remember when i told you that

anonymous asked:

Hey, I remember you used to do fake pages from Steve(?)'s diary, the ones where you would write out passages or smth in a sketchbook, and add drawings of them etc, and I kind of want to do a couple of things similar to that for another show, so that I'm not always drawing the same thing, but I can't think of how to do it or where to start. Do you have any tips, or anything you found out when you were doing them?

Hi anon ^^

Hey, I remember you used to do fake pages from Steve(?)’s diary, the ones where you would write out passages or smth in a sketchbook,

Yup, you remember well anon! I used to post pages from my sketchbooks and some of them could have been Steve’s sketchbooks (well, that’s what people told me ^^)

Do you have any tips, or anything you found out when you were doing them?

1) Ok, first, you have to decide what medium you want to use, traditional art or CG art.

CG art: you can use brushes that look like a pencil (see HERE and HERE) and a sketchbook texture (see HERE). The asset is that it’s easier to do, you have a better control on the final result, you can arrange the sketches on the page as you wish and add writing with a font that emulates hand writing (or just write whatever you want yourself using the brushes I linked you above). The rendering can be really cool!

Traditional art: That’s what I used above. The problem is that you have to scan and retouch everything with Photoshop. As you can see, sometimes, the pages don’t even have the same color even if they come from the same sketchbook, I never understood the reason why xD You can have a look HERE at my drawing supplies. I scanned my sketchbooks in 300dpi with a Canon scan. It’s fun but I think that if I had to do a “Steve Rogers’ sketchbook” project, I would go digital but it’s just me.

2) Now you have to decide what you want to draw in the sketchbook. Will it be random sketches or do you want to tell a story? I think it’s great to tell a story, respect a chronology and draw for instance moments that were in the show/movie you want to draw for, missing scenes and scenes from your imagination.

Let’s take an example. Supernatural, Episode 12, Season 1, Faith. Sam and Dean Winchester are ghosts/demons hunters and during a hunt, Dean is severely wounded. While Sam is at the motel trying to find a way to save his brother (because the doctors told him that there was no more hope), he hears a knock at the door and guess what, it’s Dean who escaped from the hospital, in a rather piss poor state. Stuff happens and Dean is finally saved. Happy end! (Yes, I know, TONS of other things happen in this episode, but let’s stick to this part of the story for the sake of simplification). Now, imagine that you are drawing a sketchbook from the point of view of Dean:

- moments that were in the show/movie you want to draw for: the hunt that caused Dean to go to the hospital (ex: the monster, the house where the hunt happened, etc…), Dean at the hospital.

- missing scenes: Dean escaping from the hospital and riding the bus to join Sam at the motel. It’s never shown but we guessed that’s how he showed up at the motel.

- scenes from your imagination: Sam happy to have saved his brother and the boys at a bar/a strip club/a concert celebrating because “fuck death”. Pure headcanon.

You see what I mean? Your sketches can be a mix of familiar canon and various headcanons but what is important is always to tell a story.

Also, don’t forget to add details that will tell people what kind of character draws the sketches: fake coffee stains, doodles here and there on the page, ink stains, grocery list at the top of  a picture etc…

Voilà! I hope it helped! Good luck to you ♥

Do you guys ever forget how old you are sometimes? I don’t mean feeling old, I mean actually forgetting how many years you have been on this earth. I was talking to someone the other day and I told her I was 24, and that I would be 25 in June. It wasn’t until like ten minutes later that I remembered I’m actually 23, not 24, and I had to roll with it at that point cause so much time had already passed. If it was a few seconds or a minute it would have been different, but ten??? I may have to live the rest of my life this way now.

A Blind Path Home, part 5

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I obviously took some liberties with the storyline, but I tried keeping it as true as possible to the canon history. No beta used this time around, so excuse my mistakes.

Summary: It started with a blind date. A date you had skipped out on, but fate had led you right to the man you stood up. Steve Rogers, a man small in stature but big in heart. A chance meeting set everything in motion, but decades later when he is unfrozen, he has been told you have died. But when a mission to retrieve Hydra plans turned up some interesting information, Steve’s left to wonder whether you are still alive. Or is this all just false hope?

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4

Keep reading

Remember when I told you about someone stealing my videos and re-uploading them?

I just checked her channel to see if she’s taken the videos down peacefully, but she hasn’t, so I had to file numerous copyright strikes against the videos, but because of the limit I couldn’t get them all (yes, that’s how much she’s stolen from me). It was nice to read the comments and see the support from the people who actually like my videos and are also against stealing.

If you want to flame her channel, go ahead. It’s right over here. I would normally never link it so she wouldn’t get attention, but I am seriously pissed off… Like right now, I am working SO fucking hard on the genocide video, which is why it’s taking like two months… I am trying to animate the WHOLE thing, including a fight scene while the song plays (that is the part I’m working on right now). And do you know how fucking pissed I’d be if I found out it was just re-uploaded by someone else…?

Also, if you want to argue with me using some else’s lyrics - don’t bother. All the lyrics I use are credited and I use them in a transformative manner, as in I don’t re-upload the cover, I tune the Vocaloid to sing it as well as make a whole animation because there’s a story to this series.

And it’s not even the case of her “””liking””” my content so much that she wants to upload just the cover so people wouldn’t have to “””suffer””” through the intro. If people don’t like the animations and are only there for the cover, that’s fine - the song is always linked in the FIRST LINE OF THE DESCRIPTION to soundcloud so people could listen to it on repeat if they wished to.

You can go ahead and share this if you want, any support is much appreciated. Thanks for reading and thanks for the support.

anonymous asked:

Hello, I've never made a request before so I'm a bit nervous, but would you do headcanons for Seven having a panic/anxiety attack, and maybe ways MC could help him through it? Also, would it be okay for me to use them in a fanfic I'm writing? Thank you!

And if you give credit I wouldn’t mind using it in your story :) Send us the link, I’d want to read it :)
Hope you don’t mind ~spoilers~ for his after ending and such 
~Mod L

Keep reading

I wrote this in High School for my senior speech. The school wouldn't let me use it. Three years later, I thought it would be nice to post it.

“Something like learning” 2015

Sometimes I can feel graduation day coming at me in waves of different emotions. looking back at kindergarten through 12th grade I remember always being told that Teachers are given a curriculum to teach and complete each year. When and where we will use that curriculum is unknown to me right now but we will remember every lesson we were taught that wasn’t on the syllabus because we go to schools

Where we hear hey can you send me the homework? And feel that hatred when we don’t give in.

Where the top ten cheats on tests but I’m still the dumb one

When teachers tell me “You need to pass instead of you need to learn”

Where If you don’t know the answer fill in c

Where “senioritis” and “junioritis” aren’t real they’re just a surrendering flag

When we have SAT’s tomorrow and seven teachers give us 30 minutes of homework each

Where “The highest grade for the class was a d” but just because the whole class is failing doesn’t mean the teacher is

When life goes wrong your senior year of highschool and all anyone can say is “did you get accepted to college?”

When you call the school and say you can’t come in today. And all they can think is “oh no! what about our attendance rates?” But do they care that you are going to bury a loved one?

Where students say that “schools have stairs just so you can throw yourself down them”

When that parent cares more about the marks on a report card than the marks on their sons arms

Where you are told that Being suicidal makes you look weak to colleges and you are told that you don’t want that on your record and you should just move on. But we all know it’s because they don’t want their school to look bad for bullying

When we are taught how to hide from gun shots rather than learn to be kind to others

Where kids would rather have a school shooting than be nice to someone for one minute or even just smile

When we are more afraid to do the task at hand because we may fail rather than do it and learn from the mistakes

Where a teacher will hold up a failed paper and asks the person to come up and get it. And when they do they are faced with scoffing and piercing whispers from their peers

Where a teacher tells us that we don’t care because we’re half asleep going over the homework we did right after we picked up our little siblings from school

Where our students would rather ruin their brains instead of taking lower-level classes so they don’t look stupid

When students are treated like nothing because they don’t learn as fast as others. Because if you ask questions in class you are being disruptive

When kids are only excited to go to school to hand in a project they have been obsessing over for weeks to find that someone decided it was only worth a C

When you go on to social media and see “reblog if school anxiety makes you tremble”, “retweet if you can’t stand this school”, “like my picture if you’re awake until 3 am doing homework”, “Like my status if you hate yourself because you failed that test.” #failure #schoolsucks #ilostsleepbecause #helpme But we “hashtag” for the hope that someone will listen and we “reblog” for hope that someone will finally see, because we are taught to sit down and shut our mouths as soon as that bell rings.

Where you are called bipolar or depressed because you just can’t take it anymore

Where we are told if you don’t like what you see then you should just log off

When a younger sister already has her senior speech written sophomore year about the struggles and pressure of living up to her sisters excellence in and out of school

Where they praise you for perfect attendance but not for feeding your family the night before

Where if you are a boy and do not do a sport, you are considered nothing in this school. But some boys would rather hide because there is no crying in baseball

Where girls aren’t allowed to wear certain shirts because it’s distracting to the boys education and girls are told that we should take catcalling as a compliment

Where “blurred lines"is treated as an anthem more than "we are the world” because it brings people down rather than bring them up.

Where suicide notes are printed and sold as t-shirts

Where we are taught that looking good in a prom dress is more important than keeping the food from lunch in your stomach

When people speak about kindness and love for all but turn there back on people who are different from them

When coffee is your life line

Where books are banned for the n word and the f word but the second we get into the hallways those words deep into our skin

When some will be handed a diploma on the last day of school then the next day handed a gun for initiation

Where we are told that our hopes and our dreams are not as important as the kids that GPA’s are higher than ours. But how do you know that she won’t change the world one day if she is silenced now

When I can’t see myself going to college and a counselor says “well it will be hard to get a job” shouldn’t you be teaching me to survive without It?

Where our own history is sugar coded because it may make people feel uncomfortable. our lessons are filled with holes

When silence is forced so you cannot change your own world into something that is better for you. Something that is better for us. it is not acceptable because it makes them feel uncomfortable

Where I am told I cannot be independent but I am dysfunctional to the institutions that tell me I need to go to college to help someone else’s dream come true and not my own

Where the best lesson we will learn is not on a piece of paper.

What is your curriculum again?


mupfingriffin  asked:

Hey! About the angst prompts. What about 'kissing me breaks the promess, remember?' Or 'you think you can fall in love with me again?'

thank you so much! i’m sorry that this took a little while, but here it is :)

i’m tagging: @cupcakeblake @marauders-groupie @blyedeeks 

wordcount: 1.8k

He thinks he’s loved her for a hundred years.

And now that she’s standing in front of him, the unforgiving rain making her golden hair stick to her face, the expression of a flood caught within her gaze, he suddenly remembers every moment: Every moment that makes him wish he’d told her a long time ago, when they were nothing but a pair of kids sharing strange dreams and peanut butter sandwiches.

He remembers her warm laugh as the sound of it burns through the back of his mind, filling every chamber of him until he is a paper crumbling at the edges, left blackened by the sweet memory. Oh, how he needs her to laugh like that again, needs her to be seven years old, holding his hand while giggles bounce on the fabric of their pillow fort.

“Clarke…” Don’t leave. Those words won’t emerge as they have stuck to the inside of his throat, too heavy to fly out like they were meant to. Desperate, he cups her face that is wet from the raindrops that have mixed with tears, so he can no longer tell the difference. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, when pain is mercilessly tearing at his heart, determined to shred it to pieces.

Glancing at her mouth immediately has him squeezing his eyes shut. Breathe. Her lips are just a curve, just a small part of a masterpiece. She won’t crumble if you kiss them.

“Bellamy-“ Her voice a distant croak through the blur of his thoughts, Clarke puts an arm around his waist and her face to his chest. Then, she sobs, and he prays that his leather jacket will catch each of them as they emerge.

“Listen to me,” he begins, trying to mask the sound of his heart shattering as it threatens to make his voice crack. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pushes her off his chest, which causes their gazes to meet in a nebula of blue and brown.

Suddenly, it all flashes back…

And he’s five, knocking at the glass of her window. She is sitting on the bed, eating cold lasagna off a paper plate while the tabby cat lies on her feet, warming them.

Mom and dad are fighting, she says. His eyebrows knitting together, he nods before crawling into her room through the window like he’s already done so many times.

It makes her feel better, so he lets her draw an orange dragon on his arm… Smiling at her, he hopes she knows that she can slay it if that’s what she wants.

Then, he’s nine, in the grass by her side. To her, the clouds in the sky all look like broken hearts and moving vans, but he assures her that they look like rabbits.

It makes her feel better, so he lets her embrace him, and finds himself holding on.

Next, he’s thirteen, playing his guitar underneath her window at an ungodly hour, and the words come flying out of his mouth like sweet nothingness. Of course, he’s trying to cheer her up the way that chocolate ice cream does, but once his song is finished, she tells him, with the shadow of a smile on her face, that he must never kiss her… It makes her feel better, so he makes the promise.

Time flies, just like her at seventeen, dancing her way across his room in nothing but a sheer white shirt and dark-washed shorts; the ones with the Starry Night pocket. He remembers being with her when she saw them in the store, and how she looked at them like he thought she’d never look at him.

From his bed, he’s watching her, amusement caught in his gaze, and when she looks back, only to find him shirtless, color rushes to her cheeks, but because it makes her feel better he convinces himself that it’s nothing.  

With that, he’s back to a moment that is drowning in the rain. “Listen to me,” he repeats. “I meant what I said. Please don’t… Please don’t run from me.”

At his words, her lips part as her hand grabs onto the fabric of his soaked shirt. Releasing a quick breath from the cage of her lungs, Clarke holds his gaze. “Kissing me breaks the promise, remember?”

“Screw the damn promise, Clarke!” To his surprise, she barely blinks at his sudden outburst, but when he starts to move away from her, her eyes fill with rage: She’s thunder impersonating a girl in a cobalt dress, but he’s always known it. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Oh, of course you did!”

In the moments that pass upon those words, it feels like everything is going to shatter, him having turned his shoulder to her, his gaze directed towards the ground. The water fills his lungs, and he’s gasping for air, but after all, it’s her that brings him back to the surface with a soft pull on his sleeve.

“…But I love you too.”

Time stops, which makes him five, nine, thirteen, seventeen and eighteen all at once when he slowly turns his head to look at her, the tears in her ocean blue eyes and closes the space between them. Yet, his lips aren’t touching hers, only the tips of their noses brush, because even after all these years, he still craves permission. “I don’t know what else to say, Bellamy…” She mumbles, the words ghosting over his lips.

“You don’t-“ What cuts him off is her hands on either side of his face, pulling him impossibly closer until the storm folds around their embrace. In that moment, he knows he’s loved her for a hundred years, without question, without hesitation - it has always been her.

As if hypnotized, he looks down at her, convinced that she has changed her mind. Maybe, the truth is that it was never really made up. All that escapes is her name again, broken like the promise before he bends his head slightly to capture her lips with his own - his hand tangling in wild waves of her wet hair and his heart beating a tattoo against his ribcage.

And she’s five, laughing as she chases him down the street. Nine, splitting her cookie with him during lunchtime while he talks about heroes and emperors. Thirteen, humming as he struggles to braid her hair and seventeen kissing his knuckles after anger caused him to punch his locker.

Yeah, this kiss is a whirlwind as her fingertips run through his hair, and he believes that they both broke the promise a while ago. Together, unable to fight something so powerful and now it becomes clear that they’ve lost the war.

“Clarke–“ Breaking the kiss, Bellamy tries to regain his breath, but it’s difficult when she is looking at him, pupils dilated to the point where he can hardly see the blue in her eyes. “Let’s go.”

“Are you telling me you want to ditch the rest of the prom?” Clarke asks, a teasing edge to her voice, and Bellamy groans, because she knows that the only reason why he went in the first place was because she wanted to go with him. “What do you want to do, then?”

It’s a question that clings the atmosphere inside his car as they drive to his house, the place where they spent most of their childhood together, playing pretend and building with Legos. Now, it seems as though that was centuries ago, because suddenly the sweet, freckled boy of her memories is making her skin feel unbearably hot; her cheeks and chest flushed as she fidgets with the end of her dress.

“You alright?” Bellamy inquires, glancing at her while parking the car in the driveway.

“Yeah…” But Clarke can only bring herself to look at his hands on the steering wheel. However, that is until she remembers how they were pressed against the small of her back a few minutes ago. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that his brows have furrowed at the sound of the nerves breaking through her voice, yet she still does her best to seem calm, stepping out of the car.

“Okay…” He starts once they’re inside, and she just about expects that word to be some kind of indication that he is going to push her against a wall to make out with her, but that isn’t what happens. Instead, he says: “I’m going to change into set of clothes that doesn’t stick to me like glue. Do you want to borrow a pair of my sweatpants? A shirt?”

Perhaps it’s a stupid reaction, but Clarke nearly tears up, and she doesn’t know if it’s relief or just utter, unexplainable love for him - Maybe it’s both. In attempt to mask her reaction, she nods quickly. Nevertheless, he gives her a reassuring smile before he disappears into his room to pick out clothes, which is something that reminds her that she can never hide anything from him.

While he changes in his room, she does the same in the bathroom, just like they usually do on their weekly sleepovers, but frankly this is the first time that she has borrowed some of his clothes: His favorite dark blue sweater and a pair of gray sweatpants. It’s way too big, but it makes her feel so warm and safe that her heart can barely handle it, as it flutters with affection.

Entering the living room, Clarke finds him already seated on the couch in his usual spot, and she settles next to him, curls into his side. For a few minutes, Bellamy lets her rest her head on his chest, running his fingers through her hair, then he simply murmurs: “Which movie do you wanna watch?”


“What?” Once again, his eyebrows furrow, and as he looks at her, noticing the confused expression on her face, he signs, which manages to confuse her even more.

Chuckling warmly, Bellamy taps the tip of her nose with his finger. “Clarke… We’re just going to watch a movie, okay? So will you please tell your nerves that they aren’t welcome here?”

At the raise of his eyebrows, she laughs, leaning in to catch a wild, dark brown curl that has fallen into his line of vision. Their faces are so close that she can count the freckles that dust his cheeks, running her fingertip over them: Once it reaches the last freckle by his upper lip, he smiles and she wonders how she was ever afraid of loving him…

… It honestly feels like the easiest thing in the world.

That is what she breathes against his lips when she moves to kiss him. Their relationship, until this moment, was held back by her fear as well as his selflessness.

Not anymore… Never again.

You Never Walk Alone | Yoongi

AN: I got into my feels abt these theories and just had to write something based on some of them!! Ahhh

Do you remember that day, Yoongi? That day you were told Jin had died of suicide? It came out of the blue, completely absurd, you thought, maybe Namjoon wasplaying a prank but when you called the others to ask about what was going on, you heard the fracturing of their voices and the pain behind their whimpers; and that’s when you knew that Jin really had gone. Just like that.

Nobody knew why. Nobody wanted to know why. But at the same time, everybody wanted to know, why Jin?

It kept you up all night. Your mind would wander into tunnel blocks and whenever I tried to pull you back to sleep, you got angry and moved to the couch. I wasn’t really sure what to say say or do, Yoongi, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to be. Sometimes you have to realise that people haven’t experienced grief before and don’t know what the right thing to say is; sometimes people just don’t know. So give them time, Yoongi.

Give everything time okay? I know you want to hurt yourself so bad with that lighter you keep fiddling with wherever you go. It’s like your shadow; your alter ego waiting to light up but at the wrong time. Just put it down for one day and listen to the world around you. Listen to me. Listen to Jimin. Listen to Hoseok. Namjoon. Taehyung. Jungkook. Listen to us. They need you just as much as you need Jin.

I understand a life without Jin is a life not worth living, but what’s the purpose of life if there’s no grief? Humans were designed to feel pain. That’s how we survive: we fought our way through the hardships and sought a brighter day through it. Do you think Adam hated Eve all that time they were banished from the Garden? He probably realised he couldn’t live without her and so decided to make the most out of it.

I’m not saying you should spend time with your friends, Yoongi. I’m just saying you should just be there for them. Even if it’s just an early morning phone call or a late night message to remind them they’re never alone. All they need is someone to lead the way. You can show them to the end of the tunnel, you see? You just have to keep fighting through the darkness. You just have to keep fighting together. You never walk alone, you understand?

Originally posted by kookiesforjimin

Those Three Words

Those Three Words (Ao3)

Summary: Dean couldn’t get over the fact Cas said, “I love you”. Maybe because Dean didn’t realize until now that he, indeed, love Cas.

The words were repeating in his head.

“I love you,”

Ever since they got back to the bunker, those words were repeating in Dean’s head. When Dean got ready for bed, those three words were in his head. When he saw Cas in his bed wearing his pajamas, those three words were in his head.

Dean was trying to go to sleep, but couldn’t. He couldn’t get over the fact that Cas said “I love you”. Dean knew his feelings for the angel. He remembered that day when he finally told Cas his feelings. He remembered the kiss they had when Cas admitted his feelings too.

Dean didn’t know why Cas saying those three words was bothering him. Maybe Cas meant everyone because he did say “I love you all,” but Dean knew the first “I love you” was for him.

Dean and Cas never said the L word to each other. It was something that never came up. So when he heard Castiel say those words as he was dying, it made Dean realized that he, indeed, love the angel.

He love Cas’ smile. He love Cas’ strange humor. He love Cas’ personality. He love Cas’ fashion sense, even if it’s the same thing. He loves Cas when he’s mad.  He loves how Cas wore his pajamas when they go to bed. He love how caring Cas is, even if he puts people in front of him. Dean Winchester love Castiel. It didn’t take Cas almost dying to figured it out; it help him understood what that feeling was.


Dean turned over in the bed to look at Castiel. Cas was peacefully reading his book like he always did. Cas looked so peaceful, despite the fact that he almost died tonight.

“Hey Cas?” said Dean.

“Yes, Dean,” responded Cas; still looking at the book.

“Can we talk about what you said tonight?”

Castiel didn’t look at Dean, but Dean could sense that Cas was nervous.

“I know it was too early to say th-”

“No, no, no” Dean interrupted. “I’m not mad,”

Cas looked at Dean, blue eyes looking into green. “You aren’t”

“No, Cas. I’m not mad,” Dean said. “I love you too,”

Dean got up from his position to look at Cas. Dean put his hand on Cas’ face; stubble tickling his hand.

“Cas, I love you so much. I love everything about you and I’m so stupid that it took you dying to finally understand that I love you,”

Cas looked at Dean; Blue eyes piercing into his soul. Dean could see tears slowly wailing up in his eyes. Then, a smile grew on Castiel lips.

“I love you,” Cas said.

“I love you too,” Dean said.

That night, Dean and Cas showed how much they love each other.

Can you give us Shiro w/ a pregnant s/o headcannons? ❤❤ thank you ily - Anon

I love you too random stranger! 

  • Daddy shiro becomes a permanent title ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )  
  • When you told him, he was over the moon. Planned out or not, Shiro is absolutely thrilled with joy. He wants to embrace you so tight, but remembers that is going to be something he’ll have to resist from doing for 9-12 months.
  • Though reality starts to kick in after you start to like a yoga ball than your normal self. 
  • He starts doubting himself: What if you get hurt from one of the missions? Do you guys have enough to provide for the child? What if he isn’t a good father?
  • He’s already a naturally good caretaker, but his stress kicks into overdrive. He knows that you’re the one hurting the most in this situation and makes sure you’re in the most comfortable position possible. That means he’ll subject you to staying in the castle on missions, but you know that’s all good intentions
  • He actually learns more about how busy and important you are to other people. When performing the tasks you normally do, Shiro is amazed and sees you with the highest respect, comparing this leader position. He’s tired, but does it for you, whom he reverences much more. 
  • Sleepy late nights with his head resting on your belly, with baby naming and parenting books across the floor, becomes a habit
  • Endless caresses and touches becomes a habit. 
  • Shiro will treat you more gently and if he sees you struggling with something, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing to take over immediately. You have to remind the Paladin from time to time that you’re fine on your own, if his nitpicking gets out of hand.
Fic: If You Want Something Done

Just a little something goofy that fits into my Waiting Room series, between In Case I Never Told You and Man To Man.

Kendra hugged her tightly. “You let us know when you’ve got him back. And when you do…” her friend’s eyes got a little wicked, “Kiss him once for me.

–A Time For Great Things, Chapter 9

Kendra hugged Sara, then Len, then Sara again before stage whispering, “Did you remember what I told you to do when you found him?”

Sara chuckled, shaking her head. “We… got a little bit busy.”

Kendra snorted. “Well, then…”

Len found himself being kissed soundly, rocking back on his heels when Kendra released him to wink at Sara. “Lucky girl!”

Len glanced over at Carter, who shrugged and said, “Four thousand years. She always comes back to me.”

“Lucky guy,” Len answered. Then he kissed Sara just as soundly, dipping her before coming up with a smirk. “But I’m luckier.”


“You remember where we left off right? Cause I’ve already told Jensen everything so we don’t need to re-read it.” 

“Oh I’m sure you did Jarl, hopefully you told him everything in the right order.” 

“Of course mom, why would I do that to my favorite little brother?” 

“It’s okay mother, I’ve actually already read this series.  Proceed when ready.“ 

So I came home from work today and there was a kindle addressed to me that I did not remember ordering. I spent the afternoon trying to figure out how I accidentally purchased a kindle from Amazon, and when I came back from hanging out with Catherine, I told my parents, guys, you will not believe what I accidentally ordered for myself. 

“Huh,” said Dad very casually. “Did you get charged for it?” 

I spent the next five minutes checking my bank account and came back into the living room to announce, “No, I didn’t. Do you think it’s a mistake? But it has my name on it! what does this mean”

It was around the time that I started to sound panicked that Dad confessed to buying it for me (“I didn’t realize the mystery of it would be so terrifying”). Which was very, very sweet and slightly unfortunate because yesterday I purchased a replacement kindle for myself. 

So anyway, we now have a family kindle 

adhd friendships: a summary

-“Sorry I didn’t answer I spaced out”

-*randomly switching topics mid conversation*

-“I know this is unrelated, but”

-”I’m feeling horrible” *five minutes later* “uh nevermind that”

- “When did we start talking?” “I don’t remember”

- *both infodump to each other*

- more typos than any human being is able to handle

- when you get really excited and you stay up until 7 am taking about random shit

- accidental derailing the conversation over and over

-”have i already told you this i can’t remember” “don’t worry i can’t either”

Right! Here’s what I did this morning, bright and early, as soon as offices in DC opened: I called my (Republican, as it happens) Congressperson and said to the nice intern who answered the phone, “I have a simple, direct question to which I would like a simple, direct answer. When is Representative [N] going to begin impeachment proceedings against this president?”

Citizens. For the first time, the nice intern, who I have spoken to a few times by now, seemed taken aback, and asked me to hold on while he went after something to tell me. The eventual answer was “There are no plans at this time” but I told them I would be asking the question regularly and remembering the answers when it came time to vote.

Imma do it again in a few days. Join me if you can? If you can’t, postcards? Or whatever else you can do, it’s all good, every little thing.

“I know he loves her now,” she said, “and I’m only a memory that he tries not to visit too often.” She paused, looking so at peace, but in the saddest way possible. “I guess I just hope that he thinks of me from time to time. When he sees a sunset too beautiful for words, or when our favorite artist releases a new song, or when he passes my street. I just hope that sometimes he remembers what it felt like to be nineteen and so in love that it was almost like your heart might burst. I hope that he smells my old perfume and he can’t shake the picture of me running outside of my house, barefoot, to jump into his arms. I just want our love to still be important, you know? I just… I hope it lingers.”

“It sounds like a beautiful memory,” I told her. “How could he forget?”

She smiled. “Darling, everything fades with time. Even the most vivid of moments — realizing, for the first time, you’re in love, or your first kiss, or even the day it all came crashing down around you — fade as new moments pass. I just hope I was important enough to last a little while longer.”

—  excerpt from an unfinished book #136 // Thinking of you because Ed Sheeran released a new song