novel collection

theguardian.com
Ten things I learned about writing from Stephen King
The novelist James Smythe, who has been analysing the work of Stephen King for the Guardian since 2012, on the lessons he has drawn from the master of horror fiction
By James Smythe

Stephen King is an All-Time Great, arguably one of the most popular novelists the world has ever seen. And there’s a good chance that he’s inspired more people to start writing than any other living writer. So, as the Guardian and King’s UK publisher Hodder launch a short story competition – to be judged by the master himself – here are the ten most important lessons to learn from his work.

1. Write whatever the hell you like

King might be best known – or, rather, best regarded – as a writer of horror novels, but really, his back catalogue is crammed with every genre you can think of. There are thrillers (Misery, Gerald’s Game), literary novels (Bag Of Bones, Different Seasons), crime procedurals (Mr Mercedes), apocalypse narratives (The Stand), fantasy (Eyes Of The Dragon, The Dark Tower series) … He’s even written what I think of as being one of the greatest Young Adult novels of all time: The Long Walk. Perhaps the only genre or audience he hasn’t really touched so far is comedy, but most of his work features moments that show his deft touch with humour. It’s clear that King does what he wants, when he wants, and his constant readers – the term he calls his, well, constant readers – will follow him wherever he goes.

2. The scariest thing isn’t necessarily what’s underneath the bed

Horror is a curious thing. What scares one person won’t necessarily scare another. And while there might be moments in his horror novels that tread towards the more conventional ideas of what some find terrifying, for the most part, the truly scary aspects are those that deal with humanity itself. Ghosts drive people to madness, telekinetic girls destroy whole towns with their powers, clowns … well, clowns are just bloody terrifying full stop. But the true crux of King’s ability to scare is finding the thing that his readers are actually worried about, and bringing that to the fore. If you’re writing horror, don’t just think about what goes bump in the night; think about what that bump might drive people to do afterwards.

3. Don’t be scared of transparency

One of my favourite things about King’s short story collections are the little notes about each tale that he puts into the text. The history of them, the context for the idea, how the writing process actually worked. They’re not only invaluable material for aspiring writers – because exactly how many drafts does it take to reach a decent story? King knows! – but they’re also brilliant nuggets of insight into King himself. Some people might think that it’s better off knowing nothing about authors when they read their work, but for King, his heart is on his sleeve. In his latest collection, The Bazaar of Broken Dreams, King gets more in-depth than ever, talking about what inspired the stories in such an honest way that it couldn’t have come from another writer’s pen. Which brings us to …

4. Write what you know. Sort of. Sometimes

Write what you know is the most common writing tip you’ll find anywhere. It’s nonsense, really, because if we all did that we’d end up with terribly boring novels about writers staring out of windows waiting for inspiration to hit. (If you like those, incidentally, head straight for the literary fiction section of your nearest bookshop.) But King understands that experience is something which can be channelled into your work, and should be at every opportunity. Aspects of his life – addiction, teaching, his near-fatal car accident, rock and roll, ageing – have cropped up in his work over and over, in ways that aren’t always obvious, but often help to drive the story. That’s something every writer can use, because it’s through these truths that real emotions can be writ large on the page.

5. Aim big. Or small

King’s written some mammoth books, and they’re often about mammoth things. The Stand takes readers into an apocalypse, with every stage of it laid out on the page until the final fantastical showdown. It deals with a horror that hits a group of characters twice in their lives, showing us how years and years of experience can change people. And The Dark Tower is a seven (or eight, or more, if you count the short stories set in its world) part series that takes in so many different genres of writing it’s dizzying. When he needs to, King aims really big, and sometimes that’s what you have to do to tell a story. At the other end of the spectrum, some of King’s most enduring stories – Rita Hayworth & Shawshank Redemption, The Mist – have come from his shorter works. He traps small groups of characters in single locations and lets the story play out how it will. The length of the story you’re telling should dictate the size of the book. Doesn’t matter if it’s forty thousand words or two hundred, King doesn’t waste a word.

6. Write all the time. And write a lot

King’s published – wait for it – 55 novels, 11 collections of stories, 5 non-fiction works, 7 novellas and 9 assorted other pieces (including illustrated works and comic books). That’s over a period of 41 years. That’s an average of two books a year. Which is, I must admit, a pretty giddying amount. That’s years of reading (or rereading, if you’re as foolishly in awe of him as I am). But he’s barely stopped for breath. This year has seen three books published by him, which makes me feel a little ashamed. Still, at my current rate of writing, I might catch up with him sometime next century. And while not every book has found the same critical and commercial success, they’ve all got their fans.

7. Voice is just as important as content

King’s a writer who understands that a story needs to begin before it’s actually told. It begins in the voice of the novel: is it first person, or third? Is it past or present tense? Is it told through multiple narrators, or just the one? He’s a master at understanding exactly why each story is told the way it’s told. Sure, he might dress it up as something simple – the story finding the voice it needs, or vice versa – but through his books you can see that he’s tried pretty much everything, and can see why each voice worked with the story he was telling.

8. And Form is just as important as voice

King isn’t really thought of as an experimental novelist, which is grossly unfair. Some of King’s more daring novels have taken on really interesting forms. Be it The Green Mile’s fragmented, serialised narrative; or the dual publication of The Regulators and Desperation – novels which featured the same characters in very different situations, with unsettling parallels between the stories that unfolded for them; or even Carrie’s mixed-media narrative, with sections of the story told as interview or newspaper extract. All of these novels have played with the way they’re presented on the page to find the perfect medium for telling those stories. Really, the lesson here from King is to not be afraid to play.

9. You don’t have to be yourself

Some of King’s greatest works in the early years of his career weren’t published by King himself. They were in the name of Richard Bachman, his slightly grislier pseudonym. The Long Walk, Thinner, The Running Man – these are books that dealt with a nastier side of things than King did in his properly attributed work. Because, maybe it’s good to have a voice that allows us to let the real darkness out, with no judgments. (And then maybe, as King eventually did in The Dark Half, it’s good to kill that voice on the page … )

10. Read On Writing. Now

This is the most important tip in the list. In 2000, King published On Writing, a book that sits in the halfway space between autobiography and writing manual. It’s full of details about his process, about how he wrote his books, channelled his demons and overcame his challenges. It’s one of the few books about writing that are actually worth their salt, mainly because it understands that it’s about a personal experience, and readers might find that useful. There’s no universal truths when it comes to writing. One person’s process would be a nightmare for somebody else. Some people spend years labouring on nearly perfect first drafts; some people get a first draft written in six weeks, and then spend the next year destroying it and rebuilding it. On Writing tells you how King does it, to help you to find your own. Even if you’re not a fan of his books, it’s invaluable to the in-development writer. Heck, it’s invaluable to all writers.

Shy (Harry Hook X Reader)

Originally posted by ehdsisjado

A/n: This is probably my favourite idea for an imagine that I’ve had in a long time. I hope you guys like it
Requested: Yes!
Words: 3770
Warnings: Angst (not a lot but it’s there)

Prompt:
A: It’s just…. It’s just that people like you shouldn’t fall in love with people like me
B: Are you fucking serious
A: What?
B: I get to decide who I do and don’t fall in love with. That’s mine okay?. No one else’s choice, not even yours. It belongs to me. I. Love. You

You had always knew you were different to the other kids on the Isle. Always. Even as a toddler you were clearly set apart from the other villain children; choosing to sit and watch their boisterous behaviour instead of partaking in it yourself. You were unmistakably good, there wasn’t a hint of bad in you. Unfortunately, your father Shan Yu, possibly the most ruthless and merciless of the villains, was not the most accepting of your passive behaviour, so you dreamed of Auradon, a place where thought you wouldn’t feel like a stranger in your own home. You couldn’t help it, you had no interest in terrorising others or making their lives miserable, instead you wanted to make friends, you wanted to help people, you wanted to learn.

When Ben eventually accepted all of the villain kids into his kingdom you thought all of your wishes would come true. You had a fresh start, a chance to surround yourself with people like you, a chance to be happy. It turned out there really was no people like you. You were instantly shunned by the princes and princess’ at the school once they figured out who your father was, turning there backs on you immediately as if his actions where your own. There was no chance of forming a friendship with any of the VK’s, you had exhausted that possibility many years ago, you were too fundamentally different to them, so you found you were left by yourself once again. To be honest, you had kind of grown accustomed to your own company and didn’t mind being alone. You began to realise that Auradon wasn’t so different to the Isle, sure it was cleaner and fancier but it could be just as lonely and isolating.

Despite little change when it came to friendships, you had discovered one new thing about yourself since arriving at Auradon; a distinct love for reading. The first time you stepped foot in the school library, you felt suddenly giddy, hardly able to contain your excitement as you stared at the seemingly never-ending shelves of hardbacks, tracing your fingers across the spines. As reading and academic interest in general was frowned upon back on the isle you had never even known libraries existed, so you took it upon yourself to make up for lost time. Any spare time you would have you would spend reading, curled up in your special corner of the library as you slowly worked your way through the endless collection of novels. It was quiet and you rarely saw people there but it was just how you liked it, peaceful and un-interrupted, fully submerged in whatever universe you were reading about. Then one day, completely by accident, everything changed.    

Harry ran down the corridor, a wicked smirk plastered across his face as he sprinted from the enraged Tourney players behind him. The pirate may have been fast, but he knew they were faster, Chad leading the angered mob. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to put fish guts in their Tourney helmets, he thought to himself as he sped around a corner. Then he glanced back at the remnants of the slimy filth dripping from Jay’s hair as they charged after him and sniggered. Who was he kidding? He lived for the adrenaline rush. Still, while they were still behind him, he ducked out of their way, running through the doorway of a random classroom instead of continuing down the hallway. He pressed his face against the glass panel in the door, crouched down watching the Tourney players run straight past where he was hiding, sighing in satisfaction. Harry, slumped with his back to the door, laughing to himself as he caught his breath, slowly looking around the room he was in. It was bigger than he had anticipated and certainly not a classroom, the space occupied by neat rows of bookcases, overflowing with novels but was seemingly empty. His blue eyes scanned the corridor, in case anybody was still out there looking for him. The coast was clear, so he jumped up, gripping the door handle before stopping. Harry’s head whipped around as the pirate froze. He could have sworn he heard a noise.

A soft giggle, barely audible but a giggle all the same, that’s what Harry thought he heard. He brushed it off, putting it down to paranoia, and went to leave the room again. He was interrupted. Another giggle, this time louder, more prominent. He knew he wasn’t hearing things then and took a step towards the noise, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he tried to work out where it was coming from. He trod carefully through the maze of book shelves, trying not to make a sound when he saw you. Instinctively he ducked down, hiding behind more books as a small smirk stretched across his lips.
“Now who are ye?” he whispered to himself as he fixated on your small frame, curled up beside a fireplace, holding an old book in your hands. A hint of recognition flickered across his eyes as he watched you grin at the hardback, beginning to laugh even louder at whatever you were reading. He was mesmerised by you, intrigued by how absorbed you were in the story, grinning to himself as huge belly laughs escaped from your lips.
“Where do I know ye from?” He said to himself, chuckling quietly from your infectious laughter. He rested his hand on a pile of binders as he craned his neck further to study you better, jumping backwards as he knocked them to the floor.
Your nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the book you were reading and shooting up.
“Hello?” You called out, hoping there would be nobody there to answer you.
Harry was half-way down the hallway before you could take another step.

He was back again. Why? He had absolutely no idea, but the next night he found himself back in the library, hoping you would be there too. Harry wasn’t disappointed, as after filtering through the aisles of books he found you in your familiar corner, this time wrapped under a blanket, a small lamp beside you. Making sure he was hidden from view, he watched you again, trying to stop himself from chuckling.
You were reading a horror book and it was fair to say you weren’t enjoying it, but you had vowed to read every book in the library in alphabetical order and you could hardly back out half way through the the ‘A’s. You read a particularly frightening sentence and slammed the book shut, holding it at arms length away from you, before painfully slowly re-opening it. You read another word and shut it again, this time staring at the novel as if it was the devil incarnate itself.
That was the point when Harry lost it, having to bit down on his own hand to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

It had been over a week since Harry saw you the first time, and he had returned to the library everyday to find you. Every time he would find you in the arm chair beside the open fire, the little crevice of the castle you had claimed as your own. It had been over a week since you had felt like you were being watched, and you were starting to feel slightly unnerved. Every time you would convince yourself you were just feeling paranoid but something was telling you to trust your instincts.

When Harry entered the library one evening he was confused. As he walked towards your usual spot,  but he couldn’t hear a thing, no snorts of laughter, no gasps, no occasional tutting. Silence. He frowned a little before it clicked. You weren’t there. The armchair was complete empty, the fire hadn’t been started, there was no pile of books on the floor.
“Where are ye then?” He asked himself, puzzled.
“Who? Me?” You replied triumphantly from behind him, arms crossed and tapping your foot as you gave the pirate boy a knowing look. He shot around, unable to figure out a response, so instead choosing to stand with his mouth open. So you weren’t going crazy
“Oh come on,” you laughed, no longer intimidated by the boy “Don’t tell me the infamous Harry Hook is at a loss for words”
Harry relaxed, slightly shocked that you weren’t weirded out by him, and flashed you one of his signature smirks laced with a little insanity. He was curious as to how you knew what he was.
You grinned back at him, as if reading his mind.
“I mean, this kind of gives it away doesn’t it,” you motioned towards the sliver metal of his hook, glinting in to the dim light.
He smiled again, licking his bottom lip slightly.
“Ye know for someone who spends all there time in a library ye don’t half talk a lot” Harry teased, regaining his smug demeanour and taking a step towards you.
He tried to reach his hook to meet your face but you turned on your heels before he could.
“And for someone who spends all there time stalking people you are oddly confident”
“Touché” Harry laughed, following you as you collapsed into your armchair.
“What do you want Harry” you grumbled, unimpressed that the boy was invading your reading time.
He leaned back on the arm rest and grinned at you, deciding that he wanted to know more about the mysterious library girl.
“Nothing,” he said innocently enough but still with a devilish gleam in his eyes “I came here to read”
You rolled your eyes.
“We’ll go do it somewhere else, this seat is occupied” you replied, retrieving a book from your bag and opening it to the first page.
“Well if ye insist,” whispered the pirate, walking away from you.
You tilted your head, that was far too easy. You were kind of disappointed that Harry had left so soon but you dismissed the thought and started to read, happy to be left in the quiet. That was until, you hear the screech of wood against the library floor.

“Harry! I told you to leave!”
“Nu-uh, ye told me to get my own chair,” he said smugly, dragging one of the libraries benches from the other side of the room to the fireplace “So I did”.
He winked at you
“You are ridiculous”
“I think ye mean endearing”.
The bench was now directly next to your chair, Harry sprawled out on it, his hands behind his head in a mock super model pose. You giggled.
“You’re not seriously, going to stay here are you?”
“Ye already know the answer to that question sweetheart” Harry whispered.
“I can’t believe you” you said under your breath but seeing Harry’s two piercing blue eyes stare back at you charmingly, you relented.
“Fine, read this” you thrusted a book into his arms, “But I have rules. You don’t talk to me and I don’t talk to you”
Harry smirked.
“You won’t even know I’m here”

You knew he was there alright. Every five second the boy tried to talk to you and in the hour you had been sat there you hadn’t even finished the first page of your book.
“Just put me out of my misery sweetheart and tell me ye name” he pined, creeping closer to the end of his bench and you.
“Shut up and read your book Hook”
“I am reading,” he protested “Ye know I can be very persuasive when I want to be”
Harry was whispering to you, his lips brushing against your ear. You shuddered a little, not used to being this close to somebody. Annoyed, you pushed Harry playfully by the shoulder away from you.
“If I tell you will you leave me alone”
“I’m not making any promises” You jabbed him in the ribs “Okay! I’ll leave you alone”
Harry wiggled away from you and picked up the book, pretending to read it. You did the same, returning to your novel. Neither of you could concentrate on any kind of story, taking it in turns to steal glances at one and other when you thought they weren’t looking. It was Harry who caught you first.
“I can see ye looking at me ye know” he said raising an eyebrow.
“L-looking at you? Pffft I’m not….. looking at you” you stuttered embarrassed at being caught. You were a terrible liar.
“You’re sitting right next me. I can see ye”
“W-well then you need to get….. some glasses”.
After realising how terrible your excuses were you made eye contact with Harry again. The two of you tried to keep straight faces but faltered, laughing until you cried and your sides actually beginning to ache. When the sniggers finally subsided you turned to the pirate.
“My names Y/N Yu,” you said at last causing Harry to sit up.
“I thought I recognised you from the Isle” he replied, looking at you slightly differently.
“I doubt it. I have never really been a people person. Nobody really remembers me”, your voice sounded slightly sadder than you had intended it to, so you shut your mouth abruptly.
“I remembered you” Harry stated quietly, before, for the first time that night, picking up his book and  starting to read it.

It had been months since your first encounter but you and Harry had grown in-separable. It baffled everybody, the quiet shy bookworm and the obnoxiously flirtatious pirate, it wasn’t a mix that most expected to work. But it did. Soon friendship progressed to something much more. You understood Harry unlike anybody else, your relentless kindness something he had been missing but craved. Harry was fiercely protective of you, threatening to hook anybody who gave you any trouble. Yes, you knew it was a little much, but he was trying. Neither of you had any trouble admitting you were madly in love with the other. You and Harry still had your nightly reading sessions, only now you shared the armchair, you curled up on his lap, your head against chest. Harry would rest his chin on the top of your head, reading over shoulder and kissing your forehead occasionally, your bodies engulfed by a thick tartan blanket. Often, you would fall asleep like that and Harry would carry you back to your dorm, careful not to wake you. It was perfect.
For a while.

*teeny tiny time skip*

“It’s the end of the world as we know it!” You exclaimed, you pouted at Harry who just laughed at you and ruffled your hair.
“Has anybody ever told ye you’re over dramatic?”
“I’m being serious Har! The library is shut! All day!”
He chuckled at you again.
“I guess ye’ll have to sit at an actual table at lunch and actually talk to people”
You sighed melodramatically and Harry copied you, mocking your movement.
“I’d watch it Harry, you’re forgetting who my father is. I could have you flattened on this floor in a second”
“Y/N, ye may indeed be the daughter of Shan Yu, but ye haven’t flattened anything in your life”
You swatted the back of his head.
“I’m in a bad mood” you grumbled quietly.
“Come on Little Miss Yu, we’re going to sit with Uma”

You and Uma had a mutual dislike for each other. The kind of mutual dislike for each other that often caused countries to go to war. Which was a shame, her being your boyfriends best friend and all, but you tried to not let it bother you. Uma had begun to hate you since Harry started spending more time with you, annoyed that he no longer wanted to try and destroy Auradon. She lost her shit when she caught him reading a book in his room instead of training one time.
“I thought you hated Y/N” Gil said goofily as you and Harry sat down at Uma’s picnic table.
“I do” Uma said bluntly, giving you a death stare. You pretended to ignore it, instead pulling out a piece of chocolate cake from your bag. Harry sent a warning glare back to Uma.
“Well I think Y/N’s very nice,” Gil added, giving you a genuine smile and nodding his head.
You smiled back. Gil might not have been the sharpest knife in the draw but he was pretty harmless.
“She always was, wasn’t she. So nice”. Uma spat, sneering at the word nice as I it was an insult.
“If you’ve got a problem with me, I can go you know” You stood up for yourself, imitating Uma’s tone.
“Fine by me”
“Uma,” Harry growled, an fierce edge in is voice
“Oh, I’m sorry I forgot you developed feeling for the girl. Did you forget she was just part of the plan”
“Uma, shut it!” Harry banged his fists on the table.
“The plan?” You nearly choked on your cake.
“Oh honey didn’t you know” Uma said with fake concern “He only dated you because I told him to”
You spat the remaking chocolate cake out.
“What” you whispered venomously, staring at Harry who was sat with his mouth wide open.
“I thought we needed to expand our crew a bit so I told him to go out and find some vulnerable girl who would follow him blindly. Don’t know why he chose you though, you’ve always been weird haven’t you. Always been a loner. Always been a fr-”
“UMA ENOUGH!” Harry screamed.
You felt suddenly dizzy, black hazing your vision. Harry tried to grab your hand but you snatched it away. You were crying now, your heart slowly shattering. Turning around you stumbled away as quickly you could, as far as your eyes could see.

You ran into the woods, needing to be as far away from the school ,and the people in it, as possible. You were sobbing now, heaving and wailing like a child, as you sprinted. Refusing to stop, you ran deeper and deeper into the forest, your legs snatching on brambles and the wind biting at your cheeks. You never wanted to go back. How could you? The only person that had made Auradon bearable was Harry but it seemed even that was just some cruel joke. You stopped only when you thought your lungs would collapse, throwing yourself down beside a tree trunk.
“She’s right,” you blubbered to yourself “I don’t belong here. I don’t belong on the Isle. I don’t belong anywhere!”.
Your thoughts where interrupted by the snapping of a tree branch. You peered behind a tree defensively, to see a familiar pirate stood behind you.
“Y/N darling, Ye know that’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard”

He attempted to pull you into a hug but you refused.
“Harry,” you started.
“Uma’s a liar. Ye knew that already, she’s temperamental that’s all, she doesn’t mean anything she says-”
“Harry, don’t bother” You pulled away from your embrace, slumping back down to the ground.
Harry sat beside you.
“Don’t bother with what?” He asked softly, sweeping the hair away from your face with his hook so he could look into your eyes.
Before you could get lost in them, your tore your eyes away from him his.
“Stop pretending that you love me, or that you care, or that I mean something to you. It’s only hurting me more.”
Harry grabbed hold of your jaw, and twisted it towards you so you would look at him.
“You’re seriously not saying all of this because Uma threw a hissy fit are ye?”
“No actually. That’s the sad bit, I’ve been thinking about it or quite some time”
“What the hell are ye on about now!” Yelled Harry suddenly exploding, taking you slightly be surprise “Ye know I’d do anything bloody for ye!”
You ignored him, continuing your little speech.
“Do you know what people say when they see us together. They think how the hell did he end up with that, they think that-”
“When did I ever care what people think? When did ye ever care what people think?” He was still shouting, his yells echoing around the forest trees.
“I’ve always cared,” you whispered so quietly it could have gone undetected.
Harry heard though and got to his feet
“Then why don’t you care what I think then, eh? Because you know full well I love you!”
You stood up beside him, tears still streaming down your face.
“It’s just…. It’s just that people like you shouldn’t fall in love with people like me”
“Are you fucking serious” Harry whispered, cooling down again and turning towards you.
“What?”
He wrapped his arms around you, refusing to let you go no matter how hard you squirmed until you eventually melted into his touch.
“ I get to decide who I do and don’t fall in love with. That’s mine okay?. No one else’s choice, not even yours. It belongs to me. I. Love. You”
“Harry,”
“I love you,” he repeated.
“I love you too”
You nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in the unmistakable scent of the ocean that never seemed to leave the pirate. Standing on your tiptoes you reached up and planted a short kiss on Harry’s lips, before lowering down and simply staring at him.
“I was going to wait till ye birthday but-”
Harry pulled away from you, untucking a small pendant necklace from his shirt and took it off. He placed it carefully in your hand, folding over your palm and pushing it gently to your chest.
“It was my mothers. I want you to have it.”
“Harry, it’s beautiful but… But I can’t take this from you,” The necklace was small and ornate, a silver crescent moon charm adorning the chain. You rubbed the cool metal between your thumb and forefinger.
“I told ye,” Harry whispered with a smile “It’s yers”
You flung your arms around his neck and he picked you up, spinning you around and round in circles until you begged him to put you down.
“We should probably get back Har” your said, still feeling a touch dizzy.
“Yer right Y/N. I’ll race ye back to the library,” Harry winked, twirling you around a final time.
“You know full well it’s closed, why torture me like that? You know we can’t go”
“Yeah well yer forgetting I’m a villain Y/N, breaking the rules is what I do”
You stared up at the boy you loved one more time, gazing at the way his eyes shone in the dappled sunlight.
“Harry Hook,” you stated “I’ve never met a more lovely villain”

The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.
—  Cheryl Strayed, excerpt from Tiny Beautiful Things
That night I wrote in my journal: “Trees are schizophrenic now and beginning to lose control, enraged with the shock of their fiery new colors. Someone — was it van Gogh? — said that orange is the color of insanity. Beauty is terror. We want to be devoured by it, to hide ourselves in that fire which refines us.”
—  Donna Tartt, The Secret History 
Small Moments of Witchiness

-Storms

-When the air pressure changes and the wind picks up

-Arctic Monkeys songs

-Radiohead songs

-Going to witchy shops on rainy days

-Black, green, purple, or red dresses

-Ravens or crows hanging about

-black, heeled shoes

-London when it’s grey and windy

-Forests

-Full moons

-Tarot cards in little coffee shops

-The smell of lavender inscence cones

-Long dark acrylic nails

-Long corridors in old houses in England

-When the rain hits your window and the wind howls late at night

-Lightning illuminating your room for just a second

-Matches

-Dark full-brimmed hats

-Cursive handwriting

-Cumbria, England

-Cornwall, England

-Necklaces with little bottles on them

-Enigmas

-Agatha Christie novels

-Collections of tea

-Seeing spirits in public and knowing no one else can

-Using a pendulum

-Using one word spells in your daily life

-Driving in the rain

-Carrying crystals in your pockets

-Writing in your grimoire on a rainy day

-The smell of leather

These are just a few things that makes me feel especially magical, I’ll probably make another part to this! xxx

It’s here, it’s here, it’s finally here!! I am so excited and proud to announce that the release of the “Love is Love” graphic novel is tomorrow, 12/28, and we have plenty at the Gamer’s Gambit!


The graphic novel was created through the joint efforts of IDW Publishing and DC Comics in order to support the survivors and honor the victims of the Pulse Nightclub shooting that happened earlier this year. Containing stories by multiple artists and writers such as Jim Lee, Gail Simone, Patton Oswald, and many more, the graphic novel is a collection of stories and reactions that were felt across the world as the news of this horrific hate crime broke.

I had to hold back tears as I flipped through this book; on one hand we see the reactions from characters as they watch the news unfold about the attack on the LGBT community. We see the sadness, the anger, the confusion as to how one human being could twist themselves around such hatred and let it consume them. And then, through other pages, we are treated to vibrant and beautiful colours featuring couples finding strength, family members accepting those who take a brave step and come out to them, a resurgence of love that refuses to simply break down and let anger taint everything. We see the faces of heroes and villains we know and love–Harley and Ivy, Batman, Batwoman, the Lantern Corps–reach out to help us find the power we’ve always had inside us. The power to push back.
The power to love and keep loving.

All proceeds from “Love is Love” will go to the families of the victims and the survivors via Equality Florida.

To quote a page of “Love is Love” that resonates with me personally:
“Keep creating your art. Tell your stories and celebrate life. Because that’s how we beat this thing…”

-Kelly

anonymous asked:

Do you have any thoughts or analysis about Magnus that have changed from season 1 to season 2? About the way he acts or behaves or headcanons for him? This is such a vague question, but I JUST ENJOY YOUR MAGNUS DISCUSSIONS. I always sit here like *chinhands*

aweoja this is such a cute comment ty! but that’s a really good question hmm. i think the major thing that changed for me was my interpretation of his fashion choices. in season 1, i assumed that they had him change his looks frequently as an inherent part of his character. it didn’t occur to me it was meant to be unusual for him until harry said it at wondercon and then season 2 confirmed it visually by giving him a more defined look. i’m glad it was something they did. i like him having a style that he’s clearly comfortable with: goatee, spiked hair, smoky eye, dark but rich colors.

the other is his drink of choice. s1 he mostly seemed to go for whiskey so i kind of just went with that as a preference but s2 established that’s what he breaks out when he’s having a rough time. when he’s drinking for pleasure his preference seems to be a classic martini. i mean he’ll have them when he’s taking the edge off, too – we see him drink it in 2x15 and 2x04 for example – but the whiskey seems to be more reserved for that specifically.

idk if these seem like superficial things but i actually think about it a lot just bc i love considering his habits/preferences. i find they say a lot about him and they’re usually the more mysterious things. like his core traits/personalities were established early on and will never change, but learning about his preferences is stuff that can be surprising and i like thinking about how things we learn about his likes/dislikes fit into his character.

boyfriend changkyun

A/N: all right so i love monsta x and my babies don’t get enough attention so i’m making boyfriend!monsta x posts like this for all the members!!! this probably won’t be coherent so i hope it’s at least cute!!! masterlist!!!

Originally posted by kihyeun

  • this is going to be a shitpost please enjoy
  • omo this weirdo please love him he’s just a kid
  • you know that person who randomly shows up in your life and completely changes it? that’s changkyun
  • he has so many sides 
  • soft changkyun
  • sassy changkyun
  • genlteman changkyun
  • childish changkyun
  • extra changkyun
  • he’d be a weird romantic
  • none of the romantic stuff you expect oh no
  • it’s your birthday? he’s jumping out of a cake
  • you tell him about your favorite show? he binge watches it and then whispers lines of it out of nowhere to scare you late at night
  • okay but ever since i saw the episode of “right now” in which he kept a straight face for 88% of the ride i expect him to just try and make a game out of keeping a deadpan expression for everything
  • “i bet i can keep a straight face while cleaning the kitchen that’s how a real man does it” “okay changkyun don’t forget to wipe water off the counter when you finish the dishes” “-_-”
  • he be interesting to cook/bake with because it could go from 0 to a 100 to 25 so fast
  • i don’t think he’d really be into pda other than simple handholding but you’d share this really special intimacy with him
  • like the warmth you can feel when he’s next to you would be so !!! because it’s just between you two
  • i also see him lying his head on your shoulder and looking up at you while you talk or just staring forward into space
  • i dunno every time he touches you you’ll be able to feel how special you are to him
  • dates with this kid ??? they go from “wait we’re on a date” to “who are you and what did you do with changkyun this is so well put together”
  • he seems like a casual guy so i expect his dates to go the same but don’t be mistaken he does put lots of thought into it because he really wants you to be comfortable and happy
  • okay but his voice…….just…….remember you’re blessed to hear how wonderful and calming it is all the time especially when you’re hanging with monsta x and changkyun leans to whisper in your ear because he wants to have a conversation with you without everyone hearing it
  • changkyun !!!!! coming !!!!! home !!!! after !!!! practice !!!!! and !!!!! rapping !!!! to !!!!! show !!!! you !!!! what !!!! he !!!!! did !!!! in !!!!! the !!!! studio !!!!
  • the look on his face will be so precious after he finishes rapping
  • he just wants you to be proud of him 
  • please be proud of him
  • he’s trying his best and always does the most
  • LOVE CHANGKYUN
  • get ready for lots of competitions between changkyun and jooheon and having to be either the referee or changkyun’s number one fan
  • seriously there will be tons of freestyle rap battles between these dweebs in your home i’m warning you now 
  • changkyun would be such a lowkey hype man for everything you do like you reorganize your place? “holy shit!!!! my love is so skilled!!!!” 
  • traveling with changkyun !!!
  • honestly changkyun would have lots of chill adventures on vacation 
  • and then you’d be walking around the city and he would pretend to know where he’s going and you’d both get really lost but who cares when you two are taking aesthetic pictures together in front of the nighttime cityscape
  • grocery shopping with him is probably really relaxed and fun and he always knows the best snacks to buy
  • so many boyfriend material pictures (that you take of him or he takes himself)
  • highkey think he would use gifs/derp pictures of you as reaction photos in text conversations (with you and everyone else he knows)
  • he is probably the type of person to have lots of inside jokes with himself so expect a lot of your laughter together to be received with weird looks from everyone around you because no one understands
  • changkyun speaking english randomly
  • like he’d just say “what’s up” to the sofa or something who is this kid
  • his surprises for you would always be something he wouldn’t draw attention to but it would be sO tHoUgHtFuL like he would learn how to cook your favorite dish if you were feeling down and you’d be like ??? who is this boy and why is he so perfect ???
  • petnames !!! not anything like “fluffy-kins” more like nicknames that are useful in any environment but are individual to your relationship
  • he would make you so many mixtapes you can’t even fight me on this they would be compilations of songs he thinks you will enjoy/knows you like or ones he wrote
  • get ready for lots of subtweets in monsta x lyrics because changkyun loves you
  • i think he’s the kind of person who just does awkward stuff or says something that makes no sense and whenever it happens you just look at him and laugh and then he does his weird aegyo and the world is normal again
  • “why are you like this?” “i.m. who i am” 
  • expect a lot of sighing. from you. you’ll probabl sigh at him a lot and he’ll just grin.
  • you get to make fun of all of monsta x so please take this opportunity and run with it 
  • (also be prepared to run away because monsta x is a lot to handle they are insane)
  • rap all of his parts in songs. just do it.
  • honestly this boy is warm and weird and you won’t really expect falling in love with him but it will hit you and it’ll feel so natural you won’t even question it because the way he makes you laugh or furrow your brow in confusion is the realest thing you’ve ever known and when he smiles at you man oh man you know that’s true love