neat writing

Me: writing my book

Character: reveals part of backstory even I didn’t know about, but makes the story better.

Me: oh, okay. So that happened.


@jaydickweek:  Talons/Court of Owls // Father Todd 

I know canon gives us formal and somber priest!Jason, but imagine snarky youth group minister Jason (a.k.a. my fave). No connection to Bruce or the afterlife, still the same snarky little shit he was as Robin. He’s a bit gruff because it wasn’t the joker that made him terrible at showing weakness, but he’s protective as hell. The kids fucking love him.


Most kids. Most kids love him. 

And then there’s Damian. 

Little feral assassin Damian, fresh out of a disastrous first meeting with Daddy Bats, and he most definitely doesn’t love Jason. But Jason knows an abused kid who needs a way out when he sees one, even if that situation is way out of Jason’s league. 

Jason has just started making real progress when Talon shows up. Luckily, and to his very great surprise, Jason’s got Damian to protect him. Of course, then Damian gets attached. 

Fast forward, Damian rehabs Talon!Dick by taking the don’t-be-a-murderous-asshole lessons he learned from Jason 30 seconds prior and teaching them inexpertly to Talon. He gets confused and territorial when Youth Minister Jason and Talon start building their own connection, which may eventually go in a slightly unexpected direction.

a.k.a. makin’ out. ♥

anonymous asked:

prompt: gentle lesbian jesus

She kneels in the autumn bushes
plucking blackberries away
from thorns. sweat glistens in Her Buzzed

Hair. She sings even as Her Hands
redden with fruit & blood-
stains, & as the hymns flutter

through the landscape, the smallest rivers
open up their tired bodies
& bloom again. She walks home

with an overflowing basket
that evening thinking of the pie
She will later make. home’s lit

windows shine out like teeming
honeycombs through the crow-colored
air. pride pamphlets litter

Her Holy Kitchen Table, & dried
lavender sprigs, & sheet music
for the half-tuned piano in the corner.

(as she steps inside, she knows a newborn
child on the other side of the planet just took
its first breath, & somewhere else two

women just kissed, their shadows petaled
through the light of the church’s stained glass,
& somewhere far above the stars,

an angel stretched xir unkempt wings.)
She is still humming as She pours
water into Her Holy Tea Kettle.

Here are some letters matched up with Dammek’s writing!!! His penmanship is pretty shitty. If any one else can find some other legible letters to pull, feel free to add on!

Thanks tumblr user yuurg for the original alphabet key. 

One neat thing I noticed while rewatching is that some of the paladins’ introductions in episode 1 coincide with their elements! Like:

The Yellow Lion’s element is Earth, and the first thing Hunk ever does onscreen is complain about being in the air and then work with metal. The fear of heights / motion sickness makes sense considering his affinity is with the ground, as does his talent for mechanics.

The first time we see Pidge, she’s working a communications unit. The Green Lion’s thing is Forests, and a big aspect of that is the idea of roots and connection with other living things (”we are all made up of the same cosmic dust”) and the first thing she does on screen is literally connect with others.

Red’s element is fire, and Keith’s introduction is literally him blowing something up and then punching some guys. Which. Speaks for itself honestly.

Weirdly, Shiro and Lance don’t seem to follow this trend. The first thing we see Shiro do is help Matt extract ice from Kerberos, and the first thing we see Lance do is fly the simulator, and neither introduction seems to be related to their given elements of air and water/ice respectively– in fact I’d say they seem swapped. I dunno if that means something, and maybe this observation is meaningless lmao, but it seems to hold up with the other three, which is interesting.


New Direction - Harry Styles is teasing the launch of his solo career

HARRY STYLES, WHO REMAINS PART OF ONE ‘ON HIATUS’ Direction, has dropped a short but dramatic trailer teasing his long-awaited debut solo single (out April 7). It’s 30 seconds long. There’s a bit of smoke. Harry’s hair looks nice and neat. Styles has been writing songs with Snow Patrol’s Johnny McDaid, who wrote ‘Shape Of You’, among other Ed Sheeran mega bangers. Last year McDaid said that Styles’ solo material would ‘blow the socks off the world”, which is a genuinely delightful image.


James/Thomas Appreciation Week 

Favorite moment/scene

The bedroom scene for so many reasons. Firstly there’s no way to ‘no homo’ this, not after the kiss scene. Some shows would leave it at that, but we got the chance to glimpse into an intimate moment between the two of them, one that also reveals what I like to think of as the birth of James’s craving for domesticity: He’s far away from the harsh realities of the sea and the navy and instead curled up with Thomas and a book. The book is also (obviously) important; it symbolizes that even though these two men come from vastly different social climes they share an intelligence and a need to look beyond everyday matters into the deeper meanings of things. This is no doubt one of the ways Thomas wooed James into believing in his idealism.


Some of my favorite details of the Double King short:

  • the double crown being too tall to fit through the doorway
  • all the windows/arches having eyes like Double King
  • tiny mouse monk getting pulled back from the trap
  • the flow of the cape when scaling the snake and coiling up inside the snake queen’s crown
  • the music choice when the crab took off with the fish’s crown
  • D: wheh
  • intimidating a castle with a gun
  • convenient third hand
  • matron skeleton’s little :D with added napkin crown
  • launching himself into space

Me: I’m not obsessed with YOI. And I have things to do.

Also me: scrutinizes and tries to ‘analyze’ Yuuri and Victor’s handwriting


  • handwriting is neat, clear, even: he is sweet, cautious, and considerate, makes writing legible in consideration to readers 
  • the ending middle stroke of the last E is long and protrudes: he’s overly excited and he’s pressing too hard
  • bilingual and amazing
  • letters are rounded and cute like him
  • carries around marker because he is #1 superstar in Hasetsu and is always being asked for autographs
  • prints in all caps for legibility and/or to express his internal screaming
  • Dancer’s Block
  • writes on tree pulp, uses mechanical pencil with ergonomic grip that he’s had since the 90s
  • characters are again soft and round like him
  • very neat and straight writing: organized, likes to keep his life ordered and under control with minimum drama
  • prefers pen-and-paper over digital in his creative planning process, lets his thoughts flow then mulls things over
  • writes in pencil and not pen: sign of lack of self-confidence? fear of commitment???
  • eraser is well-used: he has made many mistakes in life, or so his self-doubt convinces him
  • but he’s X-ed out his ideas instead of erasing them: he may have low confidence but still knows the value of his creativity
  • Red pen present: strict on himself, is his own toughest critic, or was doodling little YK❤️VNs


  • penmanship extremely uniform, neat, aligned and evenly spaced: good control and spatial awareness. Highly disciplined person. Concerned with how he is perceived by others and maintaining a visage of perfection. May be dead inside. Or, is just trying to impress Yuuri.
  • pen with ergonomic grip (only the softest for world-class athletes) borrowed from Yuuri because Victor Nikiforov™ only ever needs to carry markers for autographs. (Yuuri’s never getting his pen back.) (but that’s ok, because they are soulmates and share everything).
  • is that a autograph pad he’s writing on
  • crosses his Zs. A nerd.
  • 7 has a downward blip on the top stroke. why are you like this, Nikiforov
  • can count to 12. excellent smart boy
  • Squiggly underline: is very cute and super excited for his boyfriend’s quad toe loop
  • I obviously don’t know what I’m doing

Im in love with the theory that muggleborn students find the room of requirement and its filled with technology. Like i know stuff like cellphones dont work at hogwarts, but it’s the room of requirement so it does just in that room for some reason?
Like imagine: students dont want to write a 10 page essay with a fucking quill and parchment paper? Type that shit out on a macbook in the room of requirement and hand it in. The teachers marvel at how neat the students writing is.
Muggleborns get bored? Go to the room of requirement and have a mario kart party
Muggleborns staying up to date with their favourite shows and binge watch netflix together
Just muggleborns being completely fed up with hogwarts staying in the 1700’s and practically living in the room of requirement

I came to a terrifying realization today. I push people away because I don’t love who I am and I don’t believe anybody else could either. I push them away because I can’t handle the rejection when somebody leaves. And they always leave. I push people away because I’m a forever kind of girl and people seem so temporary. I push them away because I’m terrified of having to be honest with someone. I push them away because I am scared of myself in love. 

And it’s killing me. Because I’m alone. And that’s the last thing I ever wanted be.

1. Write down everything he said that made your heart beat faster. Every word that found a home in your soul and kept you warm on nights when you were too cold to breathe.

2. Take your time. Write as neat as you can. Elegant cursive, bubble letters, calligraphy. Make the penmanship as beautiful as the words it is saying.

3. Read it over and over and over again. Feel the way you felt when he first said it to you. Forget how much it hurts now.

4. Light it on fire in the bathroom sink. As the edges curl and the letters melt, forget it all. It’s not a part of your life anymore and you don’t need to keep it. It’s gone.

5. Now write down everything he said to you that made you blush a deep red. Everything he said to you that made your thighs tremble and your breath shaky.

6. Make the penmanship sloppy, like the way he would’ve kissed you. Write it down quick and messy and don’t worry about how the things you are writing would make a priest impure. Write it all anyway.

7. Read it. Just once. Let yourself imagine what you could’ve been one more time.

8. Then light it on fire too. Forget it too.

9. Now write down what he said to you that hurts. Write down the words he threw at you as he left, write down the excuses he made, write down the words he stabbed into your chest. Write down what he said that made you cry.

10. Make the words harsh and sharp. Scratch it out with a knife onto the page if you have to.

11. Don’t read it again.

12. Light it on fire. Watch it burn. Forget.

13. He wanted to burn you down but don’t let him. Get there first. You’re the one who’s holding the matches.

—  How to forget him– Lily Rain

fauvistfly replied to your post “Want to play a writing game?”

Derek is there when Scott and Stiles are filling out a questionnaire for an online dating thing, and Derek keeps muttering the answers under his breath. And the answers are really good and accurate. And then there’s kissing :)

(this doesn’t quite meet the prompt, sry)

“What’s your favorite color?” Scott asked, reading off the screen.

“Red,” Derek said from behind his copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy, which wow, talk about pretentious.

“Red,” Stiles said a few seconds later, kicking out at Derek with his foot.  He barely reached the reclining chair Derek was sitting on.  "Next.“

"Would you rather give roses or chocolates?”

“Neither, Stiles thinks he’s too unique for those, but in truth he’d probably give both out of desperation.  Then throw in an android tablet.”

“Hey!” Stiles yelped indignantly, bracing himself on the back of the couch so he could kick out at Derek again.  His foot connected solidly with Derek’s thigh, and the chair turned about ten degrees away from Stiles and smacked against the side table.  Derek didn’t even look up as the chair slowly rotated.  "Ok, true.“

"Ignore him,” Scott said, glaring at his older brother.  "This will work, I promise you.  Lots of people meet online dating now.“

"I’d have better chances meeting someone playing WoW,” Stiles muttered.

Derek smirked at him as he pushed the chair back at the angle he had it at.

“Describe your ideal date,” Scott prompted.

Derek reached over and grabbed his notepad and scribbled something down.

“Well,” Stiles said, eyes narrowed at Derek.  "You don’t have 2 cents to put in?“


“Yes, you.”

“No, I mean your ideal date: me.”

“Har, har, asshole. But you’re wrong, my ideal date is something low key, like take out and a movie.”

A ball of paper landed on his lap, and he uncrinkled it to find ‘burgers and a movie’ in Derek’s terrifyingly neat writing.  

Derek just shrugged.  "I was close.“

"No,” Stiles said, getting to his feet and standing in front of Derek’s chair.  "No, you were absolutely right.“ Then he started laughing.  "Oh my god, my ideal date is you.”

Derek scowled at him.

“If you wanted the job, you should have just said.”

“Stop aggravating Der…” Scott started.

“I don’t want the job,” Derek denied, mouth screwing up like he tasted something sour.  

“You want me, admit it.  That’s why you notice so much about me.  You just want all of this,” Stiles answered, kicking down the reclining part of Derek’s chair, so Derek was forced to sit with his feet on the ground.  "I bet you really want me to kiss you right now.“

"No.” Derek sneered.  "Notice? You bought me a pair of Ray-Bans for my birthday, how could I not?  What are you doing?“

"Climbing on your lap,” Stiles answered, matter of fact, as he braced both his knees on either side of Derek’s thighs.  It was a tight fit, but the chair was big enough.  "Do you think I won’t?“

"Yeah… I don’t think so.”

“Would the two of you stop playing chicken?” Scott asked.

“No?” Stiles asked, looking into Derek’s eyes.


That was definitely a dare.  A challenge.

Stiles dodged forward and pressed his mouth against Derek’s lips.  Immediately, Derek’s arms came up to hold him in place. Stiles pulled back with great difficulty, as in it was difficult to stop kissing Derek because kissing Derek was amazing, and also because Derek didn’t seem to want him to stop.

But, well… gloating was a thing that needed to happen.

“Fuck,” Derek groaned as Stiles pulled back enough.  "Yes, I do want you, you annoying little shit.“

"Oh thank god.”

“The two of you deserve each other,” Scott whined, hand over his eyes.

It’s always interesting when I see notes going past over my dash pertaining to my original work, and the comment is “wow what a neat idea, someone should write this I may just steal this” like yes, hello, you are commenting on a post that says clearly in bold that I the author, am writing this. There’s even a pre-order link to my patreon page there. It’s the thing underlined and in bold.

Plz do not steal the thing thnk u.

okay but

Singer!Graves maneuvering this type of microphone

while either screaming into it or whispering?

His fingers are hovering over it, like he wants to cup it, while his eyes close and voice goes into a tenderly sweet tone.

His lips are practically touching the cold metal as he whispers into it.

Fans are going crazy. They would do anything to get that microphone.

He also tends to pose dramatically with the pole.

Bonus: Graves shamelessly ruts against the pole thing and he’s sure some brains got short circuited.

Bonus 2: Throw into the mix the super flustered fan Newt, who is always admiring beautiful things from afar, and who just happened to be squashed into the front row by Queenie. He wants to run away. He’s so close to his celebrity crush, he barely can keep himself on feet. His knees buckle from time to time though. He’s flushed a deep shade of red as he stares mesmerized at the stage, at Graves.

He barely registers the shove Queenie gives him before he’s catching the MICROPHONE and he raises his eyes shocked, and he sees Graves smirking and then he winks at Newt.

Newt faints.