Fic tags/warnings : angst, pining, friends to lovers, roommates, but they don’t live in the same actual room, flatmates, modern flat, domesticity, cooking, cooking breakfast, not cooking lunch or dinner, eggs, omelettes, non-veganism, dish ware, tea, drinking the tea, bickering, snark, watching tv, rupaul’s drag race, shangela, more pining, referring to boys as gorgeous, holding hands, interlaced fingers, legs touching, knees touching, fabrics, use of shoulder as a pillow, cuddling, breathing, hearts pounding, continued television watching, whispering, failing to act, time skips, sleeping, sleeping in separate rooms, nightmares, waking up, moving to the same bed, bed sharing, cotton sheets, awkwardness, hugging, comfort, a restful night’s sleep, morning breath, pretend disgust, staring into each other’s eyes, kissing, giggles, face touching, noses, butterfly kisses, fluff, lots of fluff, pressing together, frotting, frotting through pajamas, silk pajamas, flannel pajamas, friction, hardness, pleasure, sweat, ecstasy, sexual release, bodily fluids, mentions of laundry, implied bathroom usage, more breakfast, hugging from behind, feelings of surprise, feelings of contentment, happiness, hopeful resolution
Commenter: y wouldn’t u have a warning for doing the dishes? I hate being reminded of my chores, had to stop reading
Look, you’re human, and humans are so mortal. I mean, you pop like balloons. I mean, one heart?! It’s your most important organ, and you’ve no back up. It’s like a budget cut.
The Doctor. Source: World Enough and Time
*There be spoilers.*
Why is every episode Moffat writes like some genie-magic infested fairytale? The Doctor complains about his companion being too mortal, having just one, very unreliable heart, and voila, the universe grants Bill an upgrade which includes a magical heart which will never fail.
Yes, Bill is a cyberman (for now) but she is not your usual gun-swinging, human-upgrading, emotionless machine. She can feel pain, even EMOTIONAL pain. She still remembers the Doctor, Missy, Nardole. She is still the Bill Potts we fell in love with throughout the last 10 episodes.
You know what she’s not? Dead.
You know what this series is not? Over.
And now add the opening sequence to the equation and tell me I’m not the only one seeing what Moffat is setting up there.
What are the odds of him killing Twelve and Bill off in the same episode? All right. Let me rephrase that. What are the odds of ‘everybody-lives-and-gets-their-happy-ever-after-and-if-not-is-allowed-to-come-back-from-the-dead-to-live-however-long-they-want-to’ Steven Moffat choosing to kill Bill off by turning her into a cyberman? Do you think that’s the best, most tragic story that genius could come up with?
Do you think Moffat is not aware of the one thing he is not supposed to do with the show’s first black, lesbian companion? Do you think Moffat didn’t spam Chibnall with at least a thousand post-it notes reading 'you shall not kill Bill’?
So, what *is* he doing?
He’s giving her the best plot-armour ever, just in case Chnibnall didn’t get those at least thousand post-it notes. Because good luck with trying to kill her off now.
(PS: I think the Doctor will find a way to change her back, but the solution will require to sacrifice himself for Bill. Or Missy will come up with something proving she’s *good* (only to commit some truly awful crime in the end) but the Doctor will have to sacrifice himself for Missy to make the plan work. Or something).
On the one hand, going through this stack of vintage horror and alternative fiction magazines that I was given is fascinating. Oooh, an issue of Dreams of Decadence (I’m keeping that one)! An interview with Ray Bradbury!
On the other hand, whoo, there’s a bunch of them that are in NO WAY appropriate to be put in Eldergoth Surprise Boxes, because of soft-core photos (which are also damn unimaginative - really, how many photos of topless girls drenched in blood does the world need?), and edgelord trying to be oh-so-shocking fiction.
When I do put Eldergoth Surprise Boxes up for sale (soon-ish!), if you buy one, are over 18, and want a helping of, um, schlock in yours, let me know. I’ll toss one of these in.
(Look, I have read stuff in the “splatterpunk” genre (because David J. Schow is an excellent writer), but these magazines are … ugh. Just ugh.)
Also can we stop acting like Sansa calling Jon her bastard brother is wrong when she’s not the only one who does it? Bran uses it several times, because it’s just a fact:
Bran’s bastard brother Jon Snow moved closer. “Keep the pony well in hand,” he whispered. “And don’t look away. Father will know if you do.”
AGOT, Bran I
It would never be the way it had been, he knew. The crow had tricked him into flying, but when he woke up he was broken and the world was changed. They had all left him, his father and his mother and his sisters and even his bastard brother Jon. His father had promised he would ride a real horse to King’s Landing, but they’d gone without him. Maester Luwin had sent a bird after Lord Eddard with a message, and another to Mother and a third to Jon on the Wall, but there had been no answers. “
AGOT, Bran IV
Who are they mourning now? Had some enemy slain the King in the North, who used to be his brother Robb? Had his bastard brother Jon Snow fallen from the Wall? Had his mother died, or one of his sisters? Or was this something else, as maester and septon and Old Nan seemed to think?
ACOK, Bran I
"At the Wall?” Bran had always wanted to see the Wall. His bastard brother Jon was there now, a man of the Night’s Watch.
“What the hell-” Bucky pants, he leans over, hands bracing his thighs, “-was that?”
Steve, unaffected shrugs, “Classic, run of the mill, villain?”
There’s powdered sugar and flour coating every inch of the kitchen, the red on his pants– khakis, mind you– is probably that strawberry ganache he made earlier, and there’s knocked out men propped against his ovens. The mess alone is going to take hours and all the Pine O Pine in the world to clean, but who knows how long it’s going to take either NYPD or the Avenger’s evidence team to finish taking what they need from his establishment.
He looks up from the pants he’s never going to be able to wear again and raises an eyebrow at Steve, “This is a bakery. Crime and villainous things do not happen here. Here is where crime and villainous things come to rest.” He knows a couple of mob leaders favor his coffee and jelly filled donuts, doesn’t mean Steve has to know that, though.
Steve chuckles and holds and hand out to Bucky, “Come on, I’ll call the others to help clean up.” Pointedly ignoring the fact that organized crime leaders know Bucky’s name and have him down as their lead pastry caterer for events.
Bucky takes his hand and shakes his head, “This is not what I expected when I started dating Captain America.”
“What did you expect?“ Steve asks pulling him in, smooth like he’s done this millions of times, uncaring to the food on their clothes and the mess surrounding them.
Bucky shrugs, a sly smile crossing his lips, “Muscle to bring in the load of sugar I get each month, free access to any and all museum featuring you.”
Steve hums, grinning, “Such high expectations.“
“Yeah,“ Bucky nods, “and now all I have are sugar coated criminals knocked out on the floor and a dutch oven that probably needs to be submitted as evidence. Got that from Becca for Christmas, you know.”
“That dutch oven saved your life.“
Bucky rolls his eyes and pulls away from Steve, not wanting to stroke his ego and agree that yes, the orange dutch oven saved his life when it slamed into some goon’s head. “Guess we should stop staring at the bodies and actually call the authorities.”
He places his hands on his hips and looks around, taking a moment to look at his messy kitchen once more before heading to the swinging door leading to the front of his shop. He turns around to ask Steve if this is NYPD business or Avengers business but stops short when he sees Steve collecting any and all items that could be used as weapons in the event those goons wake up. Since this is a kitchen, it’s a lot of items.
“Yeah?“ Steve asks, reaching down for on of the goon’s guns.
“Leave the gun and take the
cannoli. I didn’t spend all day making them for a couple of bad guys to run them.“
listen, I'm real curious about the people responsible for meilius (mostly bc interspecies couples are #choice, but also just like.. who brought this pissbaby into the world? Own Up)
his mom was a human named alisha, and recently meilius found out that she was actually a pretty great person who would’ve raised him had she had the chance. unfortunately she didnt get that chance, and meilius was separated from her at a young age and has no recollection of her at all
meilius also has no recollection of his dad. and his dad is… a secret. for now.
BTS reaction to them getting emotional at a fansign
Hiiii, I’d like to request a reaction with both BTS & GOT7 please, where they were at fansign and a fan came up to them, holding their hands with tons of gifts and letters and sincerely asking them to take care of themselves because they deserve the world and all that which got them seriously emotional or something like that. Thanks love
Jungkook: “I love you” *gif*
Jimin: Looks at the crowd and every each one of ARMY’s who are there. He is emotional but he doesn’t cry, he just smiles and admires every single one of you/us.
Taehyung: He would feels so emotional but wouldn’t show it that much. He would have a big smile on his face and just grab the mic “I love you ALL, you are so beautiful, thank you”
J-Hope: Would say so many kind words and even shead a tear how emotional and happy he is.
Rap Monster: Would want to hug each one of ARMY’s. Would give them compliments “ARMY I LOVE YOUUU”
Suga: He is not the type to cry and get emotional in front everyone but he would just stop and be in his world and appreaciate every and each one of ARMY’s. He wouldn’ be able to express how much he love you/us. Can’t form his feelings into words.
Jin: He would start crying same as Jungkook. ARMY’s would shout “don’t cry, don’t cry” which would warm his heart even more and he would smile and be so thankful for every each one of you/us.
Choose handbags,high-heeled shoes, cashmere and silk, to make yourself feel what passes for happy. Choose an iPhone made in China by a woman who jumped out of a window and stick it in the pocket of your jacket fresh from a South-Asian Firetrap. Choose Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram and a thousand others ways to spew your bile across people you’ve never met. Choose updating your profile, tell the world what you had for breakfast and hope that someone, somewhere cares. Choose looking up old flames, desperate to believe that you don’t look as bad as they do. Choose live-blogging, from your first wank ‘til your last breath; human interaction reduced to nothing more than data. Choose ten things you never knew about celebrities who’ve had surgery. Choose screaming about abortion. Choose rape jokes, slut-shaming, revenge porn and an endless tide of depressing misogyny. Choose 9/11 never happened, and if it did, it was the Jews. Choose a zero-hour contract and a two-hour journey to work. And choose the same for your kids, only worse, and maybe tell yourself that it’s better that they never happened. And then sit back and smother the pain with an unknown dose of an unknown drug made in somebody’s fucking kitchen. Choose unfulfilled promise and wishing you’d done it all differently. Choose never learning from your own mistakes. Choose watching history repeat itself. Choose the slow reconciliation towards what you can get,rather than what you always hoped for. Settle for less and keep a brave face on it. Choose disappointment and choose losing the ones you love, then as they fall from view, a piece of you dies with them until you can see that one day in the future, piece by piece, they will all be gone and there’ll be nothing left of you to call alive or dead. Choose your future.Choose life.
“What is all
this?” Your wife asked as she walked into your bedroom. She’d apparently had
the longest day at work. She was ridiculously horny to the point where it hurt,
and she hadn’t wanted to go into work today. Being the good professional that
she was, she did anyway, but throughout the day she’d been texting you to say
how much she couldn’t wait to get home.
A particular text had read, “I want your tongue between my
You’d give her all that and more. How did you end up with
the most beautiful, angelic-looking, but devilishly brained woman in the world?
“These are the treasures I picked up on the way home from work. I, your loving
wife, am going to make you come over and over again and then have you fall
asleep in my arms. How does that sound?”
JJ crawled onto the bed, the various toys dipping into the
center of the mattress as she kissed you. “That sounds amazing. I don’t know
why I’m so pent up.”
You counted off on your hand. JJ was always the horniest the
week before her period, as were you. “You’re getting your period soon.”
“Goddammit,” she muttered, laughing against your neck as you
caught her and cuddled her against you. “How many times do you think you can
make me cum? Because I’m already on the edge of number one.”
For a few moments, you thought about it, wondering how many
times might be too much for her body. “I want to try for 8, but if you’re too
overwhelmed, you can call it off at any time. Just say blue.”
You glanced to the side at the array of toys, all in shades
of blue; JJ’s favorite color. “Ah,” she laughed, sliding her fingers underneath
your shirt and pushing it upward. She placed her lips against your skin and
suckled slightly, traveling up the length of your stomach until she got to your
see-through bra. She marveled at how puckered your nipples were already and
licked at them, but this was about her, so you flipped her over peeled off her
“A light blue bra,” you said, your cheeks already flushed
with need. God you had the most beautiful wife in the world. “Why am I not
Bending down, you took her nipple in between your teeth and
rolled in gently, doing the same with your hips. Although your jeans separated
you both, JJ started to pant heavily. She really wasn’t kidding about having
been on edge all day. You brought her nipples to taut peaks before moving down
and pressing your palm against her center. Before you even had the denim down
her legs, she was arching upward with the shaking of her first orgasm. “I told
you I’m on edge.”
“I can see that,” you said as you took off her panties. She
was slick and ready and waiting for you, and you couldn’t think of anything you
wanted to do more than fulfill her wish of having your head between her legs.
As you licked up her slit, she whimpered softly and arched herself into your
JJ looked down to where you lay. “I can’t tell you how sexy
I find this image.”
“Maybe you should take a picture for posterity,” you winked.
Within another few minutes, you’d brought her second orgasm to a head as she
cried out. She reached out and grabbed for one of the toys. It was a very
realistic dildo – minus the light blue color of course.
“I want you to use this one,” she said mischievously,
rolling the dildo around in her hands.
With a smile, you grabbed the dildo from her and kissed up
her body, leaving little trails of fire behind that had your beautiful wife
covered in a sheen of sweat. Not many people looked good sweating, but JJ did,
especially like right now. After taking her mouth in a heated kiss, you
traveled back down to her center and licked at the dildo before placing it at
her entrance. Inch by inch, her slickness enveloped the realistic member. You
couldn’t help but watch as her lips enveloped the lengthy object. Her body reacted
so suddenly, her skin alight with pleasure.
Once she’d fully taken the dildo, you pursed your lips
against her clit. You started out slowly, wanting to drag out this orgasm-fest
as long as possible, but when you heard her whimper, you wanted more, and you
knew what would give you those slight cries you felt in your core. Sticking
your tongue out, you flicked against her sensitive bundle of nerves and began
moving the dildo at an even quicker pace. “Oh my god, Y/N,” she cried, her
thighs tightening around your head like a vice. “Please.” You felt her fingers
in your hair, coaxing you on, and almost came yourself, your hips involuntarily
grinding against the bed.
You huffed and puffed as she let her legs relax. “I’m thinking you’re going to tap out after
another one or two,” you laughed, kissing down her legs as you reached for the
strap-on. “But before you tap out, I need to put this on, no matter how silly
it looks, and look you right in the eyes as I take you over and over again.”
Her face blushed with anticipation, watching and stifling a
giggle as you strapped on the device. It did look a little ridiculous, but
there was something about it that really, really turned you on. Maybe it was
the fact that you’d be up close and personal. Maybe it was the fact that JJ
would be taking a subservient role, when she was always so powerful at work.
You weren’t sure, but you couldn’t wait, crawling over her body.
Before you could even think, you found yourself hovering
above her head. “Suck on it.” She took the device between her lips, giving it a
little bit of lubrication before you placed it between her legs. Given that you
weren’t a guy, you had to adjust to the thrusting technique, but within minutes
JJ was cresting over the wave of yet another orgasm. Number four if you were
You’d buried your head in her neck as she cried out your
name and clutched her hands tightly at your back. “Oh fuck, I love you,” she
giggled. “I don’t think I’m gonna make eight…at all.”
“I know,” you replied, taking her lips in yours again. “But
I missed looking into your eyes as you came, so I wanna go for one more.”
Now completely comfortable with the thrusting movement, you
took in the picture of your wife’s mouth dropping open. The litany of sounds
that escaped her brought a pool of arousal between your own legs. “I love you,
Jennifer Jareau,” you breathed. Before had been frenetic. Now it was languid
and loving. She arched up into you, biting her lip as the final orgasm crested.
“Look at me.”
She’d unknowingly closed her eyes, so she forced them open
to gaze into your eyes as she fell over the edge for the fifth time. “You look
so beautiful when you’re coming.” You peppered her face in kisses and pulled
out of her, discarding the strap-on and coming to rest at her side. When you
ran your finger up her swollen slit, she arched into you.
“Blue…blue…I can’t take it anymore.”
You chuckled against her back and pulled up the comforter.
Of course it was a light blue. “Comfortable now? Feel better?”
“So much better,” she laughed, lazily bringing up her hand
to caress the side of your face. “Maybe next time we go for six. But I get to
“Torture?” You laughed. “I don’t think what I just put you
through could be qualified as torture.”
“We’ll see if you’re singing the same tune tomorrow when you’re
moaning my name.”
The Secret World Legends is being launched for everyone in a little bit and I recommend it to everyone (it’s free!). It’s an action ‘shared-world’ RPG and the story lines for each mission is just amazing. They’ve made it way more easy to get into and way less hard to fuck up, compared to it’s former version.
Also, if you love mysteries, this games investigation missions are great and require digging around on the internet as well as in game.
Hey everyone! Just a heads up! Now that SWL is launched, the #tumblrmeetup chat channel is also launched!
For those of you returning from TSW, you already know that #tumblrmeetup is our personal (OOC) channel that acts as a way to create private dungeon or scenario groups, host parties, and help one-another with the game. For those of you new to the franchise or just looking for a place to chill ingame, feel free to join us at #tumbrlmeetup.
Do you ever notice Jimmy would look at Robert and laugh or smile alot, like in the denmark set in like '69 or'70, do you think he was laughing because of the way Robert like performs? You know those little quirky dance moves and head bangs.
Isn’t that the cutest thing in the world!? I think in the early, early days, Jimmy was probably amused by some of Robert’s, uh, moves - but mostly I think it’s when they are both getting off really well in a groove or when one of the boys does something really cool (or messes something up). I love their give and take. So sweet. Not the early days but I love this little look. Thanks for the question - fun to think about! <3
That "body hair" post you did helped me a lot so THANKKKK YOUUUU YOU DESERVE PUPPIES
I’m glad it helped! I mean when you think about it, it’s pretty silly how much society judges others for trivial things. Not to mention women didn’t start shaving regularly as a beauty standard until the 1940s.
There is always a new beauty standard to keep up with. Men are told they need to have body hair to appear more ‘masculine.’ Yet clean shaved face is a more clean look? Hair isn’t dirty.
Women who don’t shave are considered ‘unhygienic.’ It’s all just weird.
You wake up to a ray of sunlight shining across your face. You rub the sleep from your eyes, and turn to your bedside table. Your phone reads 9:17am. You plop your head back onto your pillow and look over to the sleeping log that is Grayson Dolan, your boyfriend of a year and 7 months. You always enjoyed waking up before Grayson, it meant that you could admire the beauty that is your boyfriend. The way you could hear the soft snores leaving his beautiful lips, watching his chest rise and fall with every steady breath. Looking at the way his bed hair fluffed everywhere sticking up in every direction. I could just stare at him all day- “Babe, take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Grayson says in his morning voice(Damn the morning voice) breaking you from your thoughts. Opening one eye he looks towards you, “Good morning Y/N.” You lean over and give him a peck on the lips, “morning Gray. I’m gonna go make some breakfast, want anything specific?” Grayson smiles, “Banana pancakes?” You laugh, “of course,” but before you could finish you rush to the bathroom, a sudden wave of nausea washing over you. You barely make it to the toilet before the contents of your stomach came up. Grayson rushes in behind you and bunches your hair up at the back of your neck, keeping it out of the way. “Y/N, babe, are you okay?” After you’re finished you sit back against the wall and wipe your mouth. You gladly take the glass of water from Grayson’s hand, “yeah, it was probably just the fish from last night, sometimes fish and I don’t get along.” You then swish the water in your mouth, desperately trying to rid your mouth of that awful taste. You spit it out into the toilet and flush it. “Well good. If you need to rest go lay back down,” Grayson says, gently reaching for you hand and kissing your knuckles. “Nah, i’m fine. Now let’s go make those pancakes!” You exclaim, pulling yourself and Grayson up, racing to the kitchen.
————-One Month Passes————-
“It should’ve come already,” you say, looking down at your calendar on your phone. “What should’ve come by now babe?” Grayson asks, plopping beside you on the bed. “Oh, my period. It’s just late,” you reply getting up from the bed. “But everything’s okay, right?” Grayson asks, sitting up on the bed, concerned. “Of course!” You lean in giving Grayson a kiss, “Now I gotta go, I’m meeting up with Y/B/F/N in ten minutes.”
“Okay, bye babe Don’t have too much fun without me,” Grayson replies smirking, smacking your butt as you walk out, causing you to roll your eyes and giggle.
—————–With Best Friend—————
You and your best friend walk into a coffee shop and go straight up to the counter with the barista smiling, asking to take your friend’s order. “I’ll just take an iced mocha please,” your best friend orders. While she finishes up paying you go up and look at the menu. “What can I get you?” You smile, “I’ll just take a caramel latte and a cinnamon roll.” While looking at the pastry display, “Oooo, and one of those muffins, they look good, and maybe that scone. Yeah, i’ll take those please.” You look over yo your best friend who has an eyebrow raised at you, “What?! I’m hungry,” you reply grabbing your change and coffee, and the bag of pastry goodness. “Okay, whatever,” your friend says, following you to your usual booth. As you sit down and open the bag of pastries you suddenly feel nauseous. “Do you want these?” you say, pushing the bag towards your friend. Your friend looks up, “I thought you were hungry?”
“Yeah, I did too… but I feel a little nauseous looking at them. It’s weird, this has happened at least three times this week.” Your friend chuckles, “What are you pregnant?” Her smile drops, “wait, are you?” You scoff. “Y/N, when was your last period?” You look down at the table. “Well, my period should’ve come about a week and a half ago,” you look upto her in a panic, “You don’t think. Oh God. What do I tell Grayson?”
“Just be honest, I mean if he loves you it will be fine,” your friend says in a comforting voice. “Well I gotta go talk to Grayson, i’m sorry for cutting this short,” You say, getting up and grabbing your latte. Heading for the door you turn back to your friend, “I’ll call you and tell you how it goes.”
———3 Days Later———-
You and Grayson are waiting patiently for an ultrasound at the clinic, two blocks from your shared apartment. You look to Grayson, concerned, “Are you sure you won’t be mad if I am pregnant?” Grayson chuckles, and kisses your head, “babe, you’ve asked that a hundred times, and so for the hundredth time i’m telling you no, I won’t be mad. I wouldn’t want to start a family with anyone else but you.” You smile, relieved. You squeeze Grayson’s hand, replying, “I can say the same to you.” At that moment there is a knock on the door, and your doctor walks in with a smile. “Hello, you must be Grayson and Y/N?” She asks, holding her hand out to you and Grayson. Grayson smiles, “Yes, that’s us.” Your doctor smiles at you both before walking to the ultrasound machine, “Well, then let’s get to it, shall we?” You smile at Grayson. “Now this might be a little cold,” she says before applying the clear gel to your abdomen. You take in a breath sharply, “Wow, that is cold.” That earned a chuckle from Grayson and a smile from your doctor. As the doctor glides the wand across your belly your grip on Grayson’s hand tightens. Grayson leans down to whisper in your ear, “It’s gonna be fine babe, I promise.” And with that you’re relieved as Grayson kisses your ear before standing up. After what seems like an eternity the doctor breaks the silence, “Okay, so here is one little one,” she says pointing to the screen, “and here is baby number two!” she exclaims, pointing to another little blob on the screen. “Congratulations, you’re pregnant with-”
“Twins!” you and Grayson exclaim, proudly looking at the screen. “It looks like you’re about 7 weeks along, let me print off some pictures for you two to take home with you!” the doctor exclaims. Grayson looks at you, “I guess that explains you feeling nauseous all those times!” You smile at him and add, “along with the constant eating!” You both laugh. :”Gray, do you think we can handle twins?” He kisses your forehead, “if anyone can, it’s us.”
——–6 Months Later———
You were now 7 months pregnant with twins, and boy did it feel like you could pop anytime! You and Grayson have yet to find out the genders, you both wanted to keep it a surprise for the birth, but of course you had names picked out for any situation. A boy and a girl, two boys, or two girls, you were ready. But all you wanted was two healthy babies. You and Gray were currently lounging on the couch, your feet in his laps. You were rereading your favorite book, and Grayson was reading the pregnancy book. That thing was practically the bible considering the way he stood by it. “Y/N, did you know the babies are now the length of a large carrot?!” Grayson exclaims, “how do they fit together in your belly?” He leans over and kisses your very pregnant belly. “Tightly Gray, very tightly is how they fit.”
——-2 Months Later, In Hospital giving birth——-
“Okay Y/N, one more big push,” the doctor says, “I can see the head.” You push with a grunt/scream as hard as you can. Soon the sound of tiny wailing fills the room. Grayson’s smile beams at you, giving your hand a gentle, encouraging squeeze. “Baby number one is a boy!”
“A Boy!” Grayson repeats, smiling even wider. “Okay Y/N, we need to get baby number two out. Can you give me another big push?” You tense up for a big push. You let out the breath you were holding in. “Okay, we’re almost there! Push once more,” the doctor encourages. With one more big push another set of wails echo throughout the room. “It’s a girl!” the doctor exclaims. “A girl,” Grayson echos, looking down at you. He leans down and gives you a peck on the lips. After to babies were cleaned off they were handed to you and Grayson. The both of you were smiling from ear to ear. “Uncle Ethan’s here!” you hear a voice say, coming from the door. “Oh would you look at the happy family,” Ethan adds, placing a hand on Grayson’s shoulder. You look to Ethan and say, “Introducing Willow Mae,” Grayson then adds, “and Noah Xavier,” “Dolan!” you both exclaim. Ethan smiles, “well you guys make the cutest family.” You and Gray look at each other smiling, before adding, in perfect unison, “We know.”
The Adoption Part Two Posting Wednesday at 4 PM MT
Lucy swiped a few more times,
“What’s an orphanage?”
Emily looked up at that question. I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea. An orphanage, especially one in Africa, might be a little heavy for my nine year old. But Emily and I had always agreed we wouldn’t shelter her from the bad things. She needed to know how the world worked and it was up to us to teach her how to navigate it.
I wiped my hands on a towel and turned the burner down under my dinner before I faced my little girl’s questions head on,
“An orphanage is a place where kids who don’t have any parents live, Diz.”
Her eyes widened. I could tell she was confused, but she was working it out in her brain before she asked any questions. She pulled her eyebrows together,
“Well…” She seemed flustered but kept trying to get her question out, “I mean…” She took a breath, “What happened to their parents?”
I was looking through some of the games cutscenes searching for details that appear in “The World of Professor Layton” when I discovered something.
Someone may have noticed, but that’s not my case. The thing is… Claire’s farewell is not the only time we actually see Hershel Layton crying.
There’s another scene where he shows tears, and this is no other that Luke’s farewell.
You have to look really closely, and it might not be seen if the quality of the video is not enough. Just after Luke’s hug, he holds his hat and closes his eyes and when he reopens them, there are tears.
It’s quite comprehensible, as they have gone through a lot together. Specifically, Layton has gone through a lot with Luke by his side. He literally deconstructed and constructed again himself during these years, and Luke was there all along.
Because Luke is the only one who knows everything about him, I think Layton can consider him his best friend. For the professor, Luke represents friendship, but not only that. Also loyalty, passion, ‘not giving up’, 'the right thing to do’…
And I think he tries to be a little more like him.
So when he is leaving, pretty much like everyone else did in his life, Hershel might feel a little lost without these values. But, I think he will add this values to himself, because that’s what he has always done. Keeping in himself the qualities of those who left him.
So it just occurred to me that while many authors will tell people to read if they want to get better at writing, they often leave out why it is important to do this, so I decided I’d break it down real quick.
There are a ton of reasons that reading is important, but when you’re looking to read with the end goal of becoming a better writer then you must read like a writer. This is different for everyone, but is always broken down the same.
Take note of what you enjoyed in what you’re reading. The way one sentence flows into another, or the way that you are sucked into the world and entranced by the plot. It doesn’t matter if you just mentally think “Oh I like how that sentence there pulled this whole segment together.” or if you end up taking notes in a notebook as long as the information is there.
At the same time it’s important to know what you dislike or even hate in what you’re reading. For example, flowing prose that does nothing beyond explaining the twelve different flowers on the moon of Elgibris bores me to death and takes away from my overall experience as a reader, but I feel lost when the author completely neglects to tell me where the character is.
This will affect the way that you write. Instead of simply imitating the way another author writes (as I find myself doing all too often), focus on delivering a story with elements of writing that you enjoy reading. Read like a writer from time to time and go over what you’ve written. Be critical of both your work and others’ and let your thoughts influence the way that you write in the future.