start the week off right

A: I’m so glad you’re alright…

J: Only thanks to my guardian angel.

REJOICE! Mercy76 week is here!! Ha! There you go! I start off the Mercy76 week with fluff n clishés :’D  But right now I’m mainly happy that I finished this thing at all! It’s already late n tomorrow/aka today (the 20th) is my dad’s bday so I won’t have time to draw. so, yeah, huzzah! I wanna try to do smth for all the days- may the mercy76 muse be with me!

I chose 1st kiss for day 1 which, as clishé as it is, happened in my head canon on the battle field. Jack maybe barely escaped an explosion, he’s bruised up n his ears are ringing but he’s alive n well enough. n that only thanks to mercy cause she instinctively jumped towards him when she saw that rpg or granate or whatever fly towards jack. n her healing beam protected jack from anything worse, but still. for a horrible few moments mercy’s heatbeat almost stops when she isn’t sure whether she made it in time. But then the smoke settles n there’s Jack, all dirty n bruised but he’s smiling that boyish yet soft smile at her, n so many emotions pass between them within a mere blink. n mercy can only sink to her knees to join jack on the ground aaaaaaand then they kiss. the end :’‘‘‘D

ps. pls have a look at my commission table! this little artists needs support ~

Flowers - Alfie Solomons

Can I ask for an Alfie imagine? His wife is his total oposite, sweet, calm and hes totally whipped. Im just a sucker for romantic Alfie😍 

———————————————————————-

“Mornin’ Ollie!” I call as I walk into the ‘bakery’.

“Mornin’ Mrs Solomons,” he mumbles before turning back to whatever he was doing.

It’s always the same when I walk in, a mumbled greeting and then complete avoidance of eye contact. I don’t take it personally because I know Alfie’s threatened each and every one of these men, individually, about making eyes at me, but I still always make the effort to know them all and engage in friendly conversation.

“How are you feeling now Ollie?”

“Umm, not too bad I suppose,” he replies, keeping his eyes on the book in front of him.

“Honestly? Because if you need some time to rest up you can-”

“No! Alfie would kill me, he needs me here.”

I’ve learnt over the years not to argue with Ollie when it comes to Alfie; his loyalty will always prevail over common sense.

“Well, I know a doctor who’ll see you out of hours. Want me to give him a call?”

His lack of objection says enough.

I place a gentle hand on his arm. “Take it easy though, yeah? You don’t need to go at 100% all the time.”

He nods and mumbles his thanks before rushing off clutching his books and papers to his chest.

I carry on towards Alfie’s office, greeting the men I pass on the way.

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“who are you and why have you knitted my cat a sweater” au

february 14 | “proposal”
(Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! Here’s the overview of my favorite AU of the week, plus a bonus tiny excerpt to start you off right. ;D)

Gabriel’s cat hates everyone and everything, except he’s suddenly decided it’s time to move in with their new neighbor, Jack. Gabriel only finds out about this because Reaper comes home wearing the world’s ugliest handmade sweater. Gabriel can’t believe his eyes. Reaper hisses when he tries to take the sweater off.

Gabriel sticks a note to Reaper’s collar that reads, “Who are you and why have you knitted my cat a sweater?” So begins Jack and Gabriel’s correspondence via post-it notes.

Jack’s veteran support group had suggested finding a way to keep his hands busy, so he decided to knit a sweater for the lonely cat that keeps sneaking into his apartment. It must be cold if it keeps curling up in his lap, right? Jack is a dog person so he is completely clueless about cats. He pretty much treats Reaper like a dog but Reaper is a weirdo who loves him anyway.

BONUS: Gabriel’s cat is an accurate predictor of his relationships with other people. So when Gabriel sees Reaper being a total sweetheart and purring as Jack puts Ugly Sweater 2.0 on him, he accidentally blurts, “Holy shit, marry me.”


EXCERPT

Gabriel stares down in utter disbelief. His cat is wearing a sweater. His cat—Reaper, a feisty little bastard who hates just about everyone and bites anything that moves—is wearing a sweater. A hideous, obviously hand-knitted sweater that Gabriel has never even seen before, let alone put on his sweater-hating cat.

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secretlybasictrash  asked:

So I've finally finished my first draft of my story!! This is my first time ever completing a first draft, so now that I'm done, I have no idea how to tackle it and begin editing. There are lots of things I need to change, like making the characterization consistent, brushing up on the flow of the story, adding in a few plot points, etc. There's just so much to do! Do you have any advice for where to start?

First, I always tell myself: One step at a time.

Don’t worry about adding plot points, or changing characters, or checking the flow, or anything. Don’t worry at all. You’ll only get anxious trying to “fix” every little detail. So, for now, celebrate. You’ve completed a draft. You are awesome!

I advise you to give yourself a reward.

I also advise you not to start editing right away. Take a week off. Start thinking about your next book. Maybe, outline your next book. For just a while, forget your completed draft. I’ve heard of authors that let their drafts in waiting for months. But a week is good enough. Why is this important? Because you move away from the story. You forget about details. You give yourself time switch from creative mode to critique mode. 

So, your week is gone and you are ready to edit.

But, remember, one step at a time.

First read: Read like a reader, not an author. Read all the way to the end without risking out or adding a word. Read like it’s someone else’s novel, not yours. And, when you get to the end, write a review. Just a paragraph or two giving your honest opinion on highlights and downfalls of the book. Be 100% honest. Be ruthless. Now, you have a general view over the story, what is missing, what is awesome. Make a list of every improvement you’d like to make.

Second read: Go over the story, applying the improvements, and also correcting mistakes along the way.

Third read: Read out loud. Reading out loud helps you detect grammar mistakes and strange sentences. :D   

Fourth read: Read one last time, not so focused on correcting mistakes, but on logic… pay attention for continuity errors, timeline errors, of if there’s any Deus ex machina around… this is just one last read to wrap things up.    

Fifth read: This is optional, but I love to read random pages of my books, just to force the brain not to follow the same track it’s already used to. Sometimes I find mistakes where I’d usually just brush over.

Then, publish it. It can’t be perfect, so don’t get crazy over every little phrase or word of choice. 

Publish. Open a new document. And start a new book. :D  

one last thing before I log off forever of tumblr:

I am so proud to call myself a juventina. I’m proud that I’m loyal to my club. Juve could lose all the finals in the next 10 years, I would still be here wearing our colours and singing our hymn until my very last breath. I'm proud to support Juve and not any other Italian club, or Spanish or German or English club. I don’t care if they have more trophies, more fans, more money, more success, whatever.  I owe Juve so much, I owe especially Gigi Buffon so, so much. As many times I wanted to forget about juve, there are as many times where I wouldn’t still be here without them. For nothing in the world would I want to love a different club other than Juventus. 

British Invasion | 2

Overview: In the middle of her freshman year of high school Riley Matthew’s mother gets a once in a lifetime opportunity to run her firms London Office. Much to everyone’s surprise her mother accepts the job, forcing Riley and her younger brother Auggie to leave behind everything they’ve ever known. Almost three years later the Matthew’s family moves back to New York and Riley comes to realize a lot has changed in the time she’s been gone.
Author’s Notes: As always the text in italics are flashbacks. This chapter covers her interactions with Zay, Isadora and Farkle and the last time she spoke to Maya. Next Chapter will focus on her and Lucas’ interactions now that she’s back.
Chapter Two: “Apologies and where to find them.”
Word Count: 3,370

Previous Chapter.

♡♡♡

Riley never thought it would be possible to feel like a stranger in a city she used to call home. But sitting there, front and center, in a classroom full of old friends never felt so lonely. She could feel their eyes piercing into the back of her head.

When Riley woke up that morning she thought maybe she’d have a class with one of her old friends but she never expected to walk into first period and see all of them staring back at her. She could only imagine how surprised they were to see her. For the most part it had been years since they spoke.

She notices Maya moving around in her seat, eyes glued to her old best friend as the brunette takes the only open desk that happens to be right in front of hers.

Even though they hadn’t talked in ages, she could remember clearly the last conversation they had.

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Why hello there Mr. Mystery <3

Departure - cc ficlet

Title: Departure
Pairing: Chris/Darren
Length/Rating: ~1,500 / PG
Summary: Just a little something silly, based off an IG @accidentalacoustics​ showed me. Now followed by Layover and Arrival.

[AO3]

The seat is bigger than Chris anticipated, and feels more like a some lawyer’s overstuffed business chair than anything on an airplane.

Chris finds his seat belt and watches the other passengers shuffle slowly, despondently towards coach.  Normally he’d be shuffling along with them to the cheap seats in the back, but not this morning.  This morning he’s up front.

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twenty years from now my kid will come running into the room crying and screaming and throwing things onto the floor and I’ll stand by all horrified and ask over and over “what happened” and they’ll just look at me with betrayal in their eyes, throw the complete box set of avatar the last airbender at me and whisper, “you liar…zutara wasn’t endgame. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN, HOW COULD SHE END UP WITH AANG what about all their chemistry” and I’ll get down real slow and hug them and stroke their hair as they sob. And then I’ll say emotionally, “But they’ll always be together…” Pause as I take a deep breath and place my hand over my heart, “in HERE”

quick lil’ minty people only see color for the first time when they meet their soulmate au for @madgesundersee to get her week started off on the right foot <33333333333

The first thing Miller notices is that the boy’s sweater is blue. Or, maybe it’s not blue—it’s hard to tell, what with never having blue before—but the kind of cool, deep color he always imagined blue to be when he read about it in books. Blue like the ocean, Miller thinks; blue like the sky.

The second thing Miller notices is the boy’s smile, so wide it’s dimpling his cheeks. A smile that would be unquestionably bright even in the monochromatic world Miller’s lived in all his life. He stares across the dining hall, watches as the boy snags a bite of cake from his friend’s plate, and it’s all in perfect, vivid color.

With a deep, shaky breath, Miller taps Bellamy on the shoulder. His roommate looks up from his pizza, and whatever it was he was about to say immediately dies on his lips as he sees the look on Miller’s face.

“What is it?” Bellamy asks. “You okay?”

“I think—” starts Miller. “I think I’m seeing color.”

Bellamy looks at him for a long moment, eyes wide. He follows Miller’s gaze across the hall, locks in on the group clustered at one of the tables by the windows.

“Yeah?” Even Bellamy sounds a bit breathless. It’s a rare and special thing, actually getting to meet your soulmate. “Which one do you think it is?”

“Boy in the sweater,” says Miller. “The one who’s trying not to laugh.”

Bellamy glances at Miller, grins. “You think, or you hope?”

Miller shakes his head, still a little awed. “I know.”

“Well, then.” Bellamy nudges his shoulder. “Go over there.”

Miller nods, absent. He’s already pushing to his feet.

He walks to the table in a kind of numb stupor, eyes trained on the boy in the midst of an onslaught of new shades, new tints, color everywhere. As he approaches, the boy happens to look up, catch his eye.

Miller stops. The boy blinks.

“Holy fuck.”

The boy’s friends glance at him. Clearly, this is not a phrase he uses often.

“Monty?” asks a girl with honey-blonde hair, all gentle concern. “You okay?”

But the boy—Monty—is already scrambling to his feet, stumbling towards Miller. His eyes are wide, lips parted and pink.

“Are you seeing this, too?” he asks, with something like wonder.

Miller lets out a breath, then sticks his hand forward. “I’m Nate.”

“Monty.” He smiles, taking Miller’s hand, and it’s like lightning under Miller’s skin. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting—wow.”

Miller laughs.

“You see this too, right?” Monty asks, his hand still tight around Miller’s. “It’s not just me?”

“It’s not just you.”

“Okay,” Monty says, nodding. “Okay.” He pauses, bites his lip. “Hello.”

Miller grins, takes a step closer.

“Hello.”

Feeling Alive (Part 1)

Summary: Dance school!AU (or the Step Up/Pride and Prejudice mash up nobody asked for). Bucky Barnes is forced to take twelve hours of commercial dance classes to pass the year- and that just happens to be your regular weekly dance class.

Introduction


Slow Hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter 2/?: Slow Hands

Word count: 3999

Love to @systemfailuresunshine for her endless patience. See bottom for author notes!

You dash into the studio with your bag held over your head and rainwater soaking your shoes.

“Hey, Y/N!” Wanda theatrically raises her eyebrows as you shut the door behind you. “Is it raining out there?”

You pull a face at her.

“I’m fu-fricking drenched,” You say, vehemently. “As soon as I left work, boom! The heavens opened!”

Pepper, poised and polished in the middle of the space, pulls a sympathetic face. “Do you want to borrow some spare socks? I’ve brought a pair?”

You hesitate, then nod gratefully. You’re practically squelching with every step you take. At least you’d had the sense not to put on your trainers when you left work. Pepper fishes in her bag for the socks as you cross to where Clint is stood and shuck your way out of your coat (dripping water everywhere).

“Good week?” Clint asks, even as he dodges the spray. You tilt your head in a so-so gesture.

“Not bad. Had one-” You get stuck on the sign for ‘crying’ and have to mime, “-Crying jag today- not me,” You add hastily, noting Clint’s concerned expression, “One of the students. Exams are getting to them.”

Clint shakes his head and sketches out his reply with his fingers. “And I thought libraries were boring.”

You give a small smile. Clint’s deaf- or, as he says, as near to it as it makes no matter- and although he does have hearing aids, he tends to leave them out around people he knows can sign. You’re not totally fluent, but you can get by just fine. You frame your next question with a hook of the fingers. “You?”

He nods. “Not bad. I took Laura to the restaurant you mentioned, she seemed to really like it.”

You grin at that, holding up your hand for a high-five before showing your reply. “What did I tell you? Glad you had fun.”

Clint looks a little bashful, but pleased at the same time. He and Laura have been tentatively dating for nearly two months now, and things seem to be going well. Pepper gently taps you on the shoulder and offers you a clean pair of socks.

“Thanks, Pepper. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” She says, sweetly. “Are you alright for getting home?”

You shrug. “If it’s still raining that hard I can get a bus. And a bit of water never killed anyone.” You struggle with the sign for ‘kill’: not one you use very often.

Clint raises his hand. “Objection.”

You roll your eyes. “Nobody ever drowned in rainwater. Happy?”

“I’ll be happier when you get your ass in gear, Y/N!” Wanda calls. “We’re all waiting for you!”

Oops. You quickly slide off your over-trousers to reveal your workout leggings, pull off your jumper and swap your sodden shoes and socks for dry trainers. Clint slides in his hearing aids, offers you a hand up, and together you walk out onto the floor.

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