messy and brave

Being brave isn’t glorifying. Being brave is messy. Being brave is walking forward when you thought you couldn’t even stand. Being brave is doing the right thing no matter the consequences. Being brave is being selfless.
—  Did you know that doing the right thing can feel like doing the wrong thing? ( c.d. )
TYPES AS CHARACTERS (and character tropes) IN MY STORIES  ~by INFP writer

So here I go once again to offend everyone (not really) 

> quiet, mistycal and wise
> ready to sacrifice everything for Greater Goals
> valuable friend (for some)
> have a really estabillished worldview
> mentor figure
> beautiful strange eyes

> miss perfect on the outside depressed on the inside
> very warm and protective
> Responsible Older Sister™
> save introverts’ asses in social situations
> smart
> care more about others than themself
> suprisingly shy but hide it very well  

> so much anger
> despotic
> very strong personality
> once again so much anger
> D E E P 
> that inner flame so bright
> determinated
> doesn’t actually realize how much they need others
> impulsive

> crave power more than anything
> know better™ (they actually do)
> “I knew it”
> just better than you in everything
> more enemies than friends
> don’t trust anyone
> tired of ur bullshit™
> judging glare

> l o y a l
> they don’t know how to handle feelings at all
> withdrawn and closed
> problem solvers
> gangsta as fuck
> logical and practial-minded
> get shit done
> need lot of alone time
> comfortably numb

> biggest nerds
> so talented oh my god
> brave
> dedicated to their passion
> gain trust of others very easily
> true to themselves, never pretend to be someone else
> probably believe in aliens

> 100% introverted    
> likes animals more than hummans
> shy and cute
> ace anything they do
> practial, problem solvers
> lot of unresolwed trauma
> warm and kind but hidding it

> fuckboi
> left their wife for their friend probably
> tired of all this bullshit
> but also feel responsible to fight for what’s right

> Q U E E N
> extremally charismatic
> rebelious, making everything their way
> debater and social animal but also inventor and sciencist
> once again SO MUCH CHARISMA
> though and confident
> can accomplish basically anything
> hard working hard working hard working

> makes friends everywhere they go
> everyone likes them
> funny and optimistic
> eager to help others
> life is a party
> friends are family

> nerd
> shy and akward but also very brave
> curious, has to check everything themself
> prefer books to humans
> have like one (1) friend
> observe everything.
> wear the same pair of boots everyday
> free spririt
> quiet rebel
> smart. intelligent.

Please don’t hate me

anonymous asked:

Thing we learned in cars 3 #7473; Mater likes to make sculptures/hats/whatevs out of random junk from his yard. Headcanon that instead of buying presents for friends and family, he likes to MAKE them instead. Both Lightning and Holley have very nice mini statues of themselves.

YES!! And when his own small junkyard does not yield the appropriate pieces, well, he has friends in high places who can help him out…!

An unlikely friendship, perhaps, given that Magnet tends to be pretty surly, but you know.


— Day 5 - Lightning

I'mma take you to the sun and the moon
That girl’s up in the atmosphere

Doctor Who Companions AU — “Where d'you think he’s taking us today?" "Hopefully not anywhere too weird.”


heres a timelapse of a quick Ringabel sketch! sorry but ive been always messy with my sketches 😂 another bravely project is in the works! 💖 #bravelydefault #bravelysecond #ringabel #patisserie #fanart #timelapse #artprocess #sketch #artvideo #drawing

Made with Instagram

i loved ghostbusters. I loved seeing loud, funny, smart, brash, messy, brave, unselfconscious women. women in baggy, quirky, comfy clothes. women with passion and fire and curiosity who weren’t afraid to get dirty and sweaty. women supporting and protecting and saving each other. i loved ghostbusters.

some GinAka thoughts

do you all remember when

upon seeing Tsunemori’s bedroom

all Ginoza has to say is that it’s pretty messy?

can you picture him tidying up her room?

can you picture them ‘accidentally’ falling asleep next to each other?

can you imagine them waking up next to each other and Ginoza is like 'get up i need to make the bed’

and Tsunemori is like 'why would you need to make it, i’ll only mess it up again’

and Ginoza facepalms so hard

because this

this is the woman that he loves

she is reckless and messy and incredibly brave

and he can’t quite believe it

all he can do is care for her the best he can

and he straightens the sheets and fixes the pillows because he knows he has no control over what happens in their lives

he tried to control everything before and look how that turned out

so now all he can do is follow her lead

and he’s okay with that

he’s happier than he’s ever been

otp: powder blue/cloudy hue

Over the Wall Again (Wirt/Beatrice) Part 1

(This fic will be told in the style of the show, starting in the middle and moving back to the beginning before we get to the end. This pairing was just haunting me, man, and I had to write for them. I don’t own Over the Garden Wall and all the info about Beatrice in this fanfiction are my assumptions from what we’ve seen of her and her family. I don’t know how many siblings she has, so I’ve decided on 12 kids in her family because that tree was just loaded with birds, man. Anyway enjoy!)

Beatrice rolled over for what felt like, and probably was, the millionth time that night. She let out another sigh, regarding her deeply sleeping younger sisters with a bit of envy. They wouldn’t have to worry about…ugh, marriage, yet. Flopping over onto her back, she wondered how Roberta and Patience had been so composed when her parents had gone through the whole courtship process with them.

She played with the ends of her braided hair. Maybe because they’d been more…sheltered? Her family didn’t move away from their large homestead often, aside from rare trips to the closest neighboring village for festivals and shopping trips. Her parents knew the Unknown was a dangerous place, everyone living in and around it knew how easy it was to get lost, so aside from their time as bluebirds she and her siblings had never spent any significant amount of time in the woods.

And even then, the rest of her family had spent all of their time living in a tree. She was the only one who’d seen adventure, who’d met other people, who knew what meeting a boy her age was like, how feelings could come out of nowhere and nag you even years after the object of your affections had gone. Roberta and Patience had never gotten to have…crushes, like that. They’d met a few boys and picked the least offensive one with the hope feelings would develop after the marriage papers were signed. That’s how everyone in her family did it, and everyone in the village too, from what her parents had led her to believe.

Shuffling her blankets, she finally decided to take a walk in the garden. She knew her parents wouldn’t approve, but she needed to quiet her worries with a distraction somehow. Quietly, she crept by Lucinda, Charity, and Beryl’s sleeping forms before hitting the creaky floorboard with her big toe and letting out a whisper of a curse when she heard Anna stir.

“Bea?” She sat up rubbing one eye. Beatrice hushed her promptly.

“Shhh, Anna, I’m just getting a drink of water.” She lied smoothly. The ten year old nodded and lay back down, muttering,

“If you’re going for a walk again, take Hercules with you.” Beatrice rolled her eyes before turning to give Anna a smile.

“I will. Promise.”

Beatrice wandered the halls of her family home as quietly as she could, stopping in the hall closet for a lantern. Keeping her promise to Anna, she roused Hercules from his place by the back door before opening it, letting the night air whisper by the little red whisps of hair loose around her ears.

Smiling, she loosened the blue length of ribbon around the end of her braid, letting her locks unwind and flow freely. She reveled in the feeling of the cool stones of the garden path, Hercules trotting beside her with an occasional affectionate nuzzle. She passed the many fountains and clusters of flowers, finding no peace in their familiarity. A flutter of anxiousness in her chest, she crossed the wide field of her homestead to sit at the edge of the woods.

Here, here was where she felt closest to him. She let out a long sigh. Five years, and Wirt was still in her heart, that brave, messy haired mistake of nature who proved to her just how brave and loving a person could be.

Beatrice hung on to trivial annoyances. They were her way of avoiding deeper conflict, they always had been. She was an expert at coming up with excuses to skirt around people. She had always thought that was the best way to go through life. And Wirt…he had taken that perspective and blown it wide open.

Trivial things were just that, Wirt had proven when he tossed away his own moodiness for his brother’s devotion. When he’d ripped Greg from those roots and held him close…Beatrice had known that her views had changed. Wirt…well, he was kind of a hero to her.

A hero she could never have. Who was gone forever. He’d never even gotten to see her as she really was. He’d never even gotten to know what he’d done to her, how he’d changed her for the better. And he was in his world now, probably happy with his-

“Sara….ugh.” She heard a muttering ahead of her. “I let her…and now I’m here again. I mean, sure, I know where I am, but where am I? I have no way to find anyone I know, there are no signs, there’s no-”

“Who’s there?!” Beatrice shot to her feet, raising her lantern. Hercules growled beside her. There was no way she was hearing what she was hearing. There was no way that familiar, deepened voice mere yards away from her belonged to…

“Who- is someone there?” She could see a figure now, slumping towards her. Taller than the was, slim build…messy hair. Definitely messy hair.

“I, I have a weapon. St-stay away!” She backed up further, but the shadow only moved towards her.

“No, I need help, please! I’m lost, and I…” The figure coughed and fell on all fours, but persisted. “Please…”

“No. No no no, that’s not you, my mind is playing tricks on me.” She insisted as the figure crawled onto the grass in front of her, out of the woods but right back into her life. The boy looked up, his dark eyes aged but familiar. His face broader, but still HIS. Beatrice was breathing fast, leaning down to look at him closer. He squinted. He was soaked to the bone, and looked like he was shaking with cold.

“You…do I know you…?” He asked, struggling to sit back up. He was clearly dazed; she was surprised he’d gotten this far from…wherever he’d come from. Beatrice surprised herself, barking out a laugh before turning to her dog.

“Hercules, go wake everyone up, we need help. Back to the house, go!” She gestured wildly and her faithful companion raced off towards the mansion, barking wildly. She turned back to the boy in the grass, stooping down to drape his wet arm over her shoulders to help him stand. She winced when his arm caught her hair at an awkward angle, but hoisted him up closer to herself nonetheless.

“Who….” He leaned on her heavily, his breath puffing against her face. She simply smiled as she saw the lights brightening the house ahead of them, and her mother rushing towards them, flustered and holding her nightcap to her head.

“Wirt, you beautiful mistake of nature.” She squeezed his side. “I’ve got you.”

“Beatrice…” He mumbled before giving another cough.

“Right-o, you big pushover.” She held him closer still. “Let’s get you inside.”

(Want more? No more? Thoughts? Questions? Leave them in my askbox! Hope you enjoyed!)