these are all over the place but i wanted to have something under my edits tag

Some of these will not apply to many people so pls take them with a grain of salt. Also I’ve been collecting these pretty much for the two years I’ve been in college so it’s not a guide, they’re just… random I guess.

Making friends 

Warning - specially tailored for super shy people aka me

  • There’s a thing called the ‘first week window of endless oportunities’. It’s when groups are still forming and everyone’s desperate to make friends. This is the time to put your best self forward (I’m not saying be fake, just a little extra friendly).
  • Leave. Your. Door. Open. Do it. Even if you have a roommate. Best way to make friends the first week.
  • Actually get out of your room. You’re not going to meet many people if you hole up in your room. If you have a tv room or people are watching a movie, I don’t care if you’re not interested in what they’re watching, go.
  • If you have the balls to go to the room nextdoor and introduce yourself then you probably can skip this section by all means do it!
  • But if you don’t, going from door to door asking for help with your laundry takes a lot less courage + you will learn how to do laundry. Asking to borrow something (pencil, hair tie, hair dryer) also works.
  • If you’re staying at a residence hall, ask to sit with people at lunch! Nobody is going to say no, i promise.
  • Similarly if you see someone alone, ask them to have lunch with you! 
  • Also if you meet someone you get along with, as soon as you can, ask for their number ‘so you can go to the dinning hall together’. 
  • Remember people’s names - it makes people feel like you actually care about them. I know it’s hard but make an effort. Also it just gets annoying when someone asks about your name for the fourth time. Use mnemonics if you have to.
  • Asking what someone’s major is and where they’re from is standard procedure when you meet them but it doesn’t make for an interesting conversation. Think of other questions!
  • Make sure to arrive about 10 min early to your classes. There’ll be very few people and so it’ll be easier to strike up a conversation (actually people will probably talk to you without you having to say anything which is g r e a t)
  • Say yes - as a rule of thumb, your social life should prevail over your academic life the first two weeks. This is the time where you’re not really pressed for time. Say yes to watching movies, say yes to going to lunch, say yes to going to campus events (and even to parties). Obviously don’t do anything that makes you really unconfortable but do try to step out of your comfort zone
  • Make friends with an upper-classman from your same major. Or at least be on speaking terms. Talk to them on Facebook, ask them about your major, just use any random idc excuse to introduce yourself, it doesn’t really matter how you do it.
  • Don’t go home every weekend, even if you live close by. You’ll miss out on the best of campus life and some of the most fun memories with your new friends.

Keeping your old friends

  • If you know you’re going home for the weekend, try to finish most of your assignments/studying and make time to hang out with your friends. Spending time with them is the best way to keep those friendships alive. 
  • But! Don’t worry too much if you can’t come home or make time for your friends too often, you just have to make an effort to text them regularly. It will come naturally if it’s your best friend, but don’t forget to set a reminder to text other close friends at least once every two weeks.
  • You may think you don’t care now but you will once you come home for the summer.
  • If any of your friends are staying in your hometown for college, be ready for them to get another friend group. That doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten about you, but don’t be mad if they seem to have a lot more plans that don’t involve you. You can always ask to tag along some time and maybe even become friends with these people!
  • Some people you’ll just lose contact with. Don’t fret it.

Organization

  • Please print out or buy a calendar that has a whole page for each month. With boxes preferably *shameless plug*. You may think you have it all under control but there’s nothing like being able to see all your due dates, hang out plans and laundry days at a glance. (Also js but the pilot frixion are perfect to use on calendars because they’re erasable).
  • There’s so much space under your bed. UTILIZE IT.

Keep reading

A Lesson in Love (The Aftermath)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,817

A/N: The tag list for this story is officially CLOSED. This part is small snippets of how the reader is feeling after the events of the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it 😊

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - you dedicate so much time to editing all of my fics and I am forever grateful to you for that

Originally posted by otabeksaltins

Forty Minutes Later

You read an article a few weeks ago about something called ‘dry drowning’. At the time, the prognosis seemed so strange. Whenever you heard the word 'drowning’, you associated it with water. That’s why you couldn’t comprehend how it could happen on land. It took a quick Google search to inform you that dry drowning was the lungs’ inability to extract oxygen from the air; it could happen just as easily on land as it could in the water.

As you sit on the floor with your arms still wrapped tightly around your body and your legs fast asleep, you realize that you’re drowning. The world is blurring into shapes you can’t make out and bright colors that make your eyes hurt. Your head is spinning. And your heart, oh your heart, it’s aching with loss. Abandonment. Rejection.

Rejection is a feeling you don’t know very well and one that is quite literally making you sick to your stomach. By avoiding relationships, you’ve avoided this. But there was only so long you could last before it found you. You might be biased or inexperienced, but you’re almost certain that it has sensed your vulnerability like a dog sniffs out fear and is using that to its advantage. It sees you trapped out in the ocean trying to keep yourself afloat and it’s like a merciless wave that refuses to let you get your bearings before knocking you under the surface again.

Keep reading

Something About a Feeling

This is it. My blood, sweat, and tears. It’s been a long time coming with this one, so I want to thank @trulymadlysydney and @outofworkactress for giving me the words I need to hear so I can finally release this into the world. I feel like a mother on their child’s first day of school. It’s a bittersweet feeling. 

In the words of @permanentcross, this is my favorite sandbox to mess with, and the more I try to explain it, the worse it turns out, but simply stated, Harry is infatuated with a girl who would never want him.

I’ve edited this a thousand times, and it’s still not perfect, but if I don’t let this little bird fly away now, it never will. So, please be kind. I’m trying my hardest. x

The first time he sees you, a mere glance from across the room, he has to remind himself he has a girlfriend. A lovely woman, she was, like most of the female counterparts he took in his life, but like most woman he chose to spend his time with, they all had one thing in common. Temporary. He knew he was growing closer to the end with this one; Hannah, a friend of a friend who was easy on the eyes, laughed at his sore attempts at jokes, and quite simply, knew she herself was as temporary as a toothbrush. They’d keep each other company for the time being and a couple of months down the road, they’d part ways, and the rest would be history. Simple as that.

But the first time he sees you, cuddled a little too close to his best mate, peering down at his phone as a small giggle escaped your parted lips, he stops dead in his tracks and backtracks. You were a catch.

Niall had his arm swung behind you, resting carelessly along the wooden seats, and Harry almost digs at himself as he resorts back to their conversation the night before wondering if he had missed the part in text where Niall stated he’d be bringing a female guest of interest. He doesn’t remember anything of the sort, but it doesn’t go unnoticed when he hands his beer out to you, and you instantly wince when the dark lager meets your lips.

Looks like he was playing third wheel tonight.

Keep reading

Why I Need You

Characters - Bucky Barnes, Reader, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson

Pairing - Bucky x Reader

Summary/Request - Yay! Could you write one with Bucky? He and the reader are in love with each other but don’t know how to tell the other. Maybe some commentary from the other Avengers? Little smut if you’re not opposed to it ;)

Word Count - 4,441

Warnings - Smut…Fingering, Unprotected sex… A little bit of language, little bit of angst..and of course some fluff
(If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - First ever Avengers/Marvel fic, so be gentle XD
Couple songs included are Think A Little Less, She thinks she needs me, and This Is Why I Need You
Huge thank you (again) to my sister Wren for helping edit! <3

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask!) - @theimpossibleg1rl​ @charliesxora@amantedelcalcio@hushothermuses@i-stole-rudolphs-nose​  @officialbroski10-blog@thepalaceofmelanie@serzhantjamesbuchananbarnes@buckyywiththegoodhair
(tagged a couple people who I know write Marvel..and have said people can tag them…I would love y’all’s input since it’s my first Marvel/Bucky fic)

Story:

Working with the Avengers was a challenge to say the least.
An enjoyable one, but still a challenge.

This was why Y/N had opted to keep her apartment in the city. So she could have a safe, familiar place to escape to when things got just too… heroically crazy.

It was rare that she would stay at the Tower over night, but Tony had a room set up for her anyway.
When nights like last night came around, she was glad to have a bed to sleep in rather than having to crash on the couch.


Just like every morning, Bucky and Steve had gotten up before everyone else in the Tower and had gone for a run. When they got back, they were a little surprised to see everyone still asleep. Each went to their separate room, to shower and get ready for the day before finding their way back to the kitchen.

Steve and Bucky settled onto the island stools, the former man looking to the latter. “So,” he began.

They had been silent their entire run, but now Steve had Bucky in his clutches…

Keep reading

Commenting on Fanfic: A how-to guide for not being an asshole. Even unintentionally.

You’ve just read a fanfic that has left an indelible impression, and the siren song of the comment box is calling your name. It begs for you to send your opinion to the author… but should you? Are your thoughts really helpful or encouraging or even all that important?

Well… lets break it down! What do you want to say, and should you say it? And if you should, what should you say?

***

I want to flail at them because their writing is amazing! My comment would be nothing but effuse praise and adulation.

Full speed ahead, captain! By all means! You post that comment! Write for days! There is not enough positive feedback in all the world if you’re a fanfic author. We drink that shit up like it’s the blood of the innocent.

And if you feel awkward about commenting on explicit fic, don’t fret. We’ve all been there. Don’t do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, but if you want to say something positive about an explicit work, go for it! We wrote explicit fic. We know why you’re here.

Something to consider: While, “THIS IS AMAZING! FLAILING FOREVER! THANK YOU!” is an awesome compliment to receive, it isn’t the same as positive feedback. If you’d like to have a bigger impact on an author that you really enjoy, comment with something specific about their writing and how it moved you. 

- “I liked the way you decribed <specific thing here>. It made me feel like I was part of the story.”

- “Your word choice here was amazing!” 

- “ *cut and paste a small section of dialogue or action* This was my favorite part.”

This is not necessary by any means. Flail-comments are still the greatest thing ever, and are the best part of any writer’s day. It’s not a matter of one being better than the other. It’s about what sort of impact you want to have on the writer. Praise and flailing are ego and mood boosters and are sure to help us keep writing, and writing more of what you like. Specific positive feedback is a great way to help a writer find and improve their voice when writing. 

And “thank you” is always nice. It’s good to acknowledge that fic writers do this on their free time, and let them know that you appreciate it.

***

This fic is amazing and I want to encourage updates or ask when it will be updated!

Tread carefully here. While on one hand, you could simply be meaning to encourage a writer to keep writing, but I know a lot of writers (particularly who start publishing before they are finished) that get anxious over requests for updates. Be mindful of your wording, and be sure you tell the author that you’re enjoying the work. Keep it positive and encouraging. 

Remember that fanfic authors have lives outside of writing fic. There may be some real world obstacles in the way of their fic writing, and guilting them about updates will not help. And in fact, it may hinder their ability to write. Not everyone responds well under pressure when it comes to creative outlets.

Something to consider: Pair your request with compliments! And avoid outright demands for updates.

Do: “This story is so amazing. I really love your pacing throughout the chapters. The suspense is amazing. I can’t wait for more! Thank you so much for writing!”

Don’t: “When are you updating? I’m dying here!” or “Update soon !!!”

***

Eeek! This fic I really love has a typo/grammatical error! Can I tell the author in a comment?

Pause for a moment! We are now treading into the dangerous land of uninvited criticism. While your intentions are no doubt good, this could very very easily be taken the wrong way. Or just flat unwanted for whatever reason. This is criticism that is coming quite possibly from a total stranger. There are a few things to consider.

First, check the author’s notes on the fic itself. Do they state that it’s unbetaed and invite corrections? Some do! Myself included when I publish something that has been edited by no one but myself. I know I miss things. When this is the case, I always put an invitation for corrections in my author’s notes, and many other fic writers do the same. Or they put it in their author bio on their main page. 

If you see no explicit invitation for corrections, do not do it. It’s as simple as that. I don’t care how egregious the errors are. It is quite simply not your place.

If you do see an invitation for corrections, a few steps are advised. First, go leave a comment on the fic. Make no mention of the corrections there. Just let them know you enjoyed it and thank them for their work. Then, send them a private message, not anonymously, with a gentle wording of the correction. Don’t do this in a comment that everyone can see. There’s no need to be exhaustive if you’ve caught a lot of errors. Sometimes just one or two corrections are enough to make an author go back through with a fine-toothed comb themselves. Then, thank them again in the private message and lay on a compliment or two there as well.  Again… this is not their day job, nor are you their writing professor.

Do: In a private message, “Hi AmazingAuthorPerson! I absolutely loved your fic “Fic from the Pairing X.” You invited spelling corrections in your author notes, and I wanted to let you know that this word was mispelled here.” *copy/paste line where mispelling takes place* “Your work is incredible. Thank you so much for taking the time to write and share with us! Sincerely, PoliteReaderPerson.”

Don’t: In a public comment, “I found errors X, Y, Z, AA, BB, and CC.”

Something to do instead: If you’ve got a good eye for editing, and you’re really interested in helping out fanfiction writers, consider becoming a beta reader. I see requests for beta readers all the time, particularly from people writing in their second/third/fiftyseventh language, and some of the more established fandoms have lists of beta readers. Just know that this can sometimes mean forming a relationship with a writer that goes beyond just comments on their work. Part of what makes unsolicited corrections icky is that they’re coming from total strangers.

***

The author did not appropriately tag something! Can I tell them?

This is a similar situation to the above scenario with corrections. Even though you may not feel like it be careful, especially with your wording. 

First, consider if there’s something seriously misleading going on? Is the maturity rating wrong? Did they fail to tag triggering material that would have been important to you to know about for safety reasons? 

If it truly is something serious, especially regarding triggering material, very gently tell them using the same method as for corrections. And remember that even though you might be upset, aiming that negativity at the author for what might be an honest mistake or just flat ignorance about tagging is not helpful in the long run.

Do:  “Hi AmazingAuthorPerson! I really appreciate that you take the time to write fanfiction for our fandom. In your fic, “Character Has a Bad Day” there is a scene that contains XYZ triggering material, but the fic is not tagged as containing XYZ material. Would you please update your tags so that your readers can be aware if they need to be? Thank you again for your work! Sincerely, PoliteReaderPerson.”

Don’t: Flame or even shame them in a public comment. Or be rude or angry in the private message. 

Regardless of what the author’s response is, move on with your life. You’re not the fandom police. 

***

Oh no! I just read a fic and I didn’t like the pairing/ending/a plot twist! I with they had done something else! I need to tell the author!

No, you don’t. 

It’s as simple as that so let me repeat it.

No, you don’t.

Here is where we get into the most valuable tool in a fic-reader’s commenting arsenal. 

Not Commenting.

Yes, it’s true! The option exists to just not comment. You can read something, not like it, and then move on with your life! 

Odds are good the author chose to write what they did for a reason that is personal to them. The idea of changing canon, keeping to canon, shipping a pair, not shipping a pair, or whatever it was spoke to them and they wanted to explore it. Or it was a request from a friend! Regardless, let them do so in peace. 

Or go write your take on the same pairing and write it how you think it should be done. I’ll be honest, I’ve read some fanfic where I’ve gone… “Yeah, I don’t know that I like that. I think I would like this better.” And then I go write it! Or at least bat the idea around awhile until it’s out of my system. Hell… isn’t that what fix-it-fics and non-canon-compliant actually is?

Do: Click the little “x” window. Go read a favorite fic you do like. Leave another positive comment for that author. 

Don’t: Leave negative comments.

***

That’s the ultimate takeaway here folks. Negative comments are not helpful to fic writers. Full stop. If you feel the author needs to know you didn’t like something, particularly if it has to do with what they chose to write about, or how they chose to portray a character/pairing, I would ask you this:

Why does the author need to know? 

Why does the author need to know about your personal tastes in fandom/fanfiction? Especially if it doesn’t include what they are writing. They aren’t here to cater to you and your personal tastes. That is what fic commissioning is for. That’s what tagging is for. So we all can find what we want to enjoy.

So enjoy things. And let other people enjoy things. And most importantly, let authors enjoy writing the things they feel moved to write about.

This has been a public service announcement.

*vanishes in a puff of feathers and caffeine.*

Super Big Brother- [edited]

Characters/Pairing: Daddy!Dean x Pregnant!Reader, Henry (OC)

Word count: 885

Warnings: Fluff, lots of it, maybe the slightest pinch of angst

Summary: It’s Dean and the reader’s second child. They have to tell their first what is going on. (Promp #44 of “60+ Dean x Pregnant!reader Prompts”@deanwinchesterxreader )

A/N: This is another editions from my personal collection, the reason I’m re-doing these is because of the babby fever taking over me, and the best way not to give in to it is writing about it, or in this case edit an old fic.

[Feedback is the best way to show your love!]

Super Big Brother


“Ok then,” you sigh and Dean nods rapidly as he speaks. “We’ll go straight to the point. We need to be direct with him, he’s a big boy.”

“Yeah,” you agree a little out of breath. “He can take it, right?” Dean eyes widen in doubt and your shoulders drop. “What if he can’t take it? Oh my goodness, he’s still a baby. My baby. This is all a mistake.”

You start to hyperventilate, Dean’s quick to rub your arms up and down. “Look at me,” he says in a sweet voice, you comply. “Is gonna be fine, he’s gonna be fine.” He bites his lower lip and you wonder how did you get so lucky.

“Okay, we’re telling him and we’ll answer any question he has.” Taking a deep breath you look back into Dean’s eyes. “What kind of questions can a three year-old make, huh?”

Dean shrugs, his arms let go of you and he pushes away from the kitchen table he’d been leaning on. You follow his lead and start walking behind him out the kitchen and down the hall.

“Wait!” you shout and run back to the kitchen, Dean stands in the middle of the corridor dumbfounded.

“Uh, sweetheart?” Dean takes a few steps your way when you rush out the door almost bumping into him, sippy cup with chocolate milk in one hand, a plate with some homemade oatmeal cookies in the other.

“Let’s go.” You nod ahead for him to lead the way one more time.

Dean’s eyes on the plate and he goes for one of the cookies. He groans when you smack his hand away away. “They’re not for you! You can have one later, I made a whole tray today.”

Dean grins like a three year-old and you roll your eyes.

Keep reading

@buryooooo

AHHHHH MORE FANFICS OH MY LORD

EXPECT ZERO!BILLxFIGHT!DIPPER IN THE FUTURE I PLAN ON MAKING FLUFF
AHHH SO MUCH FANFICS SO LITTLE TIME
BUT FOR NOW, HERES THE BROTHERS AU THING
TOOK ME FOREVER TO THINK OF SOMETHING OH MY LORD I HAVE NO IDEA WHERE THIS IS GOING AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me, and belongs to the person who created it. The only thing I own is the plot.

Also, sorry it’s short;;;; I’m writing this while I’m sick and tired and I feel like I’m dying, so I’m just gonna try and get this over with so I can take a nap or just sleep in general =^=

Also, really really sorry. It ended up shorter than I expected. Gosh I’m tired. Anyways, Imm gonna call it done, I don’t know what else to add to it. I’ll probably write something longer in the future

Classic:
Dipper - Majors in creative writing - 17
Mabel - Majors in mixed media art - 17

Reverse:
Mason - Majors in psychology - 21
Belle - Majors in fashion designer - 21

Fight:
Tyrone - Majors in sport science - 19
May - Majors in human physiology - 19

(None of the Mabel’s are in it)

Keep reading

Guzma Therapy Session 1

“Let’s talk about your father.”


“No,” Guzma said defensively.


“Then your mother?”

“No.”

“Ok, maybe we can start with your childhood?”


“Not a fucking chance.”

The therapist leaned back in his chair, he was clearly getting frustrated. “How can you expect therapy to work when you won’t talk about anything. What were you expecting to happen?”

The boss leaned forward with a serious face and asked, “don’t I just tell you I’m stressed and angry then you say some crazy shit that fucks with my head then I’m fixed?”

The doctor stared at him with a blank expression, trying to figure out if the man actually believed what he said. To his surprise the thug seemed to truly think that’s how this worked.

“If you’re angry then there is a reason for it, we just need to track down that reason,” he stated.

Guzma grumbled, “the reason is obvious doc. People are fucking morons and they piss me off.”
The doctor wrote down something on his notepad in response. This annoyed Guzma, who could only assume he and his colleagues would laugh at whatever he scribbled down later.

The therapist explained matter-of-factly, “there is a process to therapy, Guzma. When you speak about things that are hard to say you feel relieved, then once we begin to notice patterns that may explain your temperament we can begin to fix them at the source.There is negativity inside of you and my office is a safe place to let it out.”

The boss’s eyes zoned out as he began to grasp the concept. “So… your your office is like a toilet?” Guzma said as the therapist stared in confusion, “yeah it’s like poop…” He then began to elaborate, “if ya dont poop then you ain’t healthy. But you can’t just shit anywhere. So your office is like a bathroom where I can shit out all this negativity.”

The doctor looked genuinely offended that he equated his career choice to a mere bathroom. Guzma could tell the doctor was offended and gave a small smile, seemingly quite proud of that. He knew this was supposed to be a proper therapy session but he always entertained himself by getting under the skin of anyone he perceived as authority. His smirk caught the doctor’s eye and only served to annoy him further.

The therapist exhaled before quizzing him again, “there has to be something from your childhood that’s easy for you to talk about. Something fun?”

Guzma paused. In a way he knew this was where the fun was going to stop. He riffled through his memories briefly to think of the easiest story he could possibly drum up. “So… once when I was a teenager, just after I left home I started getting really good at tagging. Ya know? Paintin’ art where you’re not s’posed to. Good shit.” The casual use of foul language and references to past crimes made the therapist edgy, but piqued his interest. Guzma continued, “and so one day I sprayed somethin’ awesome behind the pokemart. ‘People bug me’ with a small Wimpod painted below it. It’s fuckin’ cheesy but I was a kid and thought I was the most clever person in the world for thinkin’ it up. The next day when I came back some lady was takin’ pictures of her Scyther in front of my tag. I was HYPED! Finally someone in town who ain’t a basic ass bitch and could appreciate good art! I walked over to see what she thought but I wanted to play it cool and not admit that I was the frickin’ genius that came up with it. Or at least I thought I was a genus… Told her ‘yo that tag is pretty fucking cool eh?’ and she turns to me and she’s like ‘I love the irony of it’ and I didn’t know what the hell that meant. So I asked… And wished I didn’t. Next thing i know she’s trailing off on how it’s simplistic and the Wimpod looks like shit and the choice of colors is bad and blah blah blah. She kept saying it was some kinda statement about how thug life mentality is bein’ mocked by the childish nature of it and how the artist did this intentionally to show the shallow mindset of a street criminal. I was fucking pissed! But I couldn’t do shit so i just kept smiling and nodding like I agreed!”

The doctor nodded and looked at him, jotting down notes as he spoke. “Did it make you mad that she said it? Or because she was right?”

“I dunno… Fuckin’ both or neither. I was just mad that people can’t like the shit I like and always gotta think their shit is better. I just thought what I did was cool… Couldn’t get it outta my head for weeks.”

“So what did you do to move on?”

“I spray painted a Scyther on her house in glow paint that said ‘my mom’s a bitch’ “

The therapist just stared at him, silently and judgmentally.

Guzma grinned back at him. “I know. Fucking funny right???”

The doctor pretended to look at the clock. “It seems our first session is done…”

He cocked an eyebrow. “The hell it is!?”

“Well you wasted half the hour arguing with me about smoking in my office. If you want show up next week and waste another hour be my guest; I get paid either way. But if you continue to share more stories like you did just then we may be able to figure out what made you how you are now.”

The boss looked at his feet momentarily before meeting eyes with the therapist and asking, “honestly, how am I now..?”

“Honestly?” the doc asked. Guzma nodded. The doctor leaned forward with a serious expression and spoke coldly, “you’re a child. A spoiled fucking child who does whatever he wants no matter how it affects others. Your past has created a personality that is comparable to a tumor that needs removed for any treatment to occur.”

The boss stared back at him, clenching his fist tightly. “I’ve knocked people out for less shit talkin’ doc…” he warned.

He didn’t break eye contact. “If you hit me is it because of what I said? Or because I’m right?”

Guzma paused for a moment, gritted his teeth then looked away. “…Fuckin’ hell… Next week same time?”

The therapist sat back up straight. “Fine, but I have homework for you. I want you to go back to that woman’s house. If she’s still there I want you to tell her you did both paintings. And I want you to tell her why and how her words made you feel.”

“Yeah… I probably won’t do that.”

“I get paid either way.”   


( Beta-Read (or Edited) by @supersquiddle . amazing writer, amazing friend )

To all my teenage and younger followers...

Let me tell you some life lessons I have learned in my 24 years on this Earth. 

1. Read the fine print. In every lease agreement, credit card application, and bill. Never take the information in large print as truth. The world is a place full of capitalist greed and people will try to swindle you for every dime you have. 

2. A credit card very rarely makes things better. While suddenly having a couple thousand dollars to spend might sound amazing, keep in mind the fact that you’re going to have to pay that back and then some. Never get a card with an annual fee if you can avoid it- because even if you don’t use it, it’ll still cost you.

3. Set up automatic payments. You will forget payments, and that can cost you (literally) a great deal. Set up automatic online payments with reminders so that you know it’s coming up, but don’t have to worry about it. 

4. In-Store credit cards are almost always terrible. Sears, Home Depot, Victoria’s Secret- all of them. They are usually packaged with fun deals like “get $50 off this purchase if you’re pre-approved!”. They fail to mention the 25% interest rate, annual fees, and the fact that it can only be used in that store. 

5. Keep your receipts. Seriously! Just keep a folder in your car and one in your house and drop every receipt you get in them.  At the end of the month dump them out and go through them. You’ll be amazed at what your spending looks like when it’s splayed out in front of you.  It makes budgeting much easier when you see real numbers. These can also come in handy around tax time- you would be surprised at the things you can write off in certain situations.

6. Learn about income tax. Visit the IRS website and educate yourself! It sounds boring (and it freakin’ is) but in no way does high school prepare you for or teach you about taxes well enough to hold your own in the real world. 

7. Claim as little as possible on your W4. When you start a new job, they always give you a W4 to fill out for tax information.  On line 5 of the form, it’ll ask how many allowances you want to claim. Now, claiming yourself may seem like a good idea because you get to keep more money on your paycheck- but it can also come back to bite you at the end of the year.  You may even end up paying in! On that same note, make sure your employer files your tax information correctly. I once ended up paying in $8,000 in taxes because my employer never had the IRS take taxes out of my checks! Whoops!

8. Start a savings fund. No matter how small it is! Even if you just put away $2 a week- it will eventually add up.  If you can, start a savings account that will earn you interest. 

9. Save your paystubs! If you plan to buy a car or rent an apartment, they’re going to want to see them.

10. Write down the start and end dates of every job you have. Making a resume and filling out job applications will be much easier with this information.

11. Make a good resume and keep printed copies as well as a digital copy at all times.  There are many excellent resume writing resources online that can help you (heck, I can help you- I used to work in HR!) buff up your resume.  You never know when you might meet someone who can present you with an opportunity! 

12. Never be afraid to ask for a raise or promotion.  If you are performing well and meeting or exceeding expectations- ask your supervisor for a raise or change of position that will pay more.  If you are aiming for a promotion, stroke the company’s ego, say something like “I would like the opportunity to prove my worth to the company and further my career with (         ).”

13. Debt collectors do not give up. They are a lot like the Terminator.  If you block their numbers or ignore their calls, they’ll find your family members or show up at your house. This is no joke. I have had hospital bill collectors call roommates, my parents, and even my dad once.  They are relentless and they do not care about your current situation or financial stability. They follow a script and expect you to pay up.  It’s hard not to panic when you get that first collections call- you definitely don’t feel in control of the situation. But remember, debt collectors are actually bound by many restrictions- they are barred from: 

-Using abusive or obscene language. -Harassing you with repeated calls.-Calling before 8 a.m. or after 9 p.m. unless you agree. -Calling you at work if you have asked them to stop. -Talking to anyone but you or your attorney about the debt. -Misrepresenting the amount of your debt. -Falsely claiming to be an attorney or a law enforcement official. -Falsely claiming to be a credit bureau representative. -Threatening to sue unless they actually plan to take legal action. -Threatening to garnish wages or seize property unless they actually intend to do it.

Always ask for written information on the debt- tell them to send you a paper statement of the debt so that you can look it over and decide what to do. Offer to make payments that are within your financial means- if they try to bully you into making larger ones, tell them you are well aware that they’ve looked into your finances and should know what you are able to afford.

14. Get renters insurance. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it! 

15. Take inventory of the things you own. If you own electronics, guns, or other expensive items, write down the serial numbers and take pictures of them in your house. That way, if there’s a break in, fire, or flash flood, you have documentation and data to provide to your insurance company. 


I’ll add more as I think of them, but here’s a start. It’ll be tagged under “successfully adulting”.

EDIT: Here’s a link to the google drive document version of this. It will be updated periodically! https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Q_YnP3euuJcfjpQY7wuE1JmB_5e60ebZFsfW5f0MtGM/edit?usp=sharing
This document also includes a resources section with links to help you get started in many areas of adult life!

WHY I HATE KUROTSUKKI

Yes, I’m tagging this. And no, I’m not putting this under ‘read more’. Yes again, I’m asking for a fight. And hell to the fucking yes, this means war! Come at me, KuroTsukki shippers!

I am so tired of having to bottle up my feelings of hate for this ship just to be nice to the rest of the fandom, and now I am done biting my tongue about it. I can talk about something I hate, just as much as I babble about the things I love on a daily basis. And I will be as loud as I want. I will be cursing at you too, because I am just so goddamn furious right now my hands are shaking.

What was my trigger? This post. Yes, it’s two-going-three years old. Yes, the OP has already moved on. But yes, it is still very much fucking relevant. Why? Because they missed the most important aspect of the hate. None of them could explain where the hate was coming from. They just went on saying it makes them feel uncomfortable, that it ticks them off, the fucking characterization, while some were just passing it off as bitterness to the popularity. And all those probably added to it too, but let me drop the bomb.

The reason there is hate for KuroTsukki is because those who ship it think Yamaguchi is too ugly for Tsukki.

Yes, I’m calling you out, bigots! And yes, feel free to deny it as much as you want. You’ll only prove my point, because it’s a fucking fact. Yamaguchi was drawn to be unassuming. I have to admit, that was also one of my initial thought processes upon entering the fandom. 'Yamaguchi is just not good enough, like he easily fades into the background. And I just love Tsukki so much, I need to pair him up with the hottest guy I could find.’

And there’s actually nothing wrong with that, I’m just explaining. People will always choose to watch the beautiful actors and actresses in porn, over the real-life true love of ugly people kissing in the park. Initial attraction only comes for the cute and beautiful.

Favoritism also plays a part. If Tsukki is your favorite, you will most probably turn in him into an uke. Why? Because you’re projecting, bitch. It’s natural, I don’t blame you. You’re probably unconscious of it too.

I understand all of that. The fact of the matter is, if I didn’t notice Yamaguchi first I probably would’ve shipped KuroTsukki too. And I didn’t notice Yamaguchi until the confrontation scene. But the thing with Yamaguchi is that, once you notice him you don’t unnotice him. And that’s what saved me. Thank God for Yamaguchi.

If you read this far, you would know that this isn’t just mindless bashing. I was just putting into words what other people couldn’t. None of this was romantic, it’s not a debate over what’s more plausible or more emotionally captivating. Everything can be made up, or forced. It doesn’t matter, it’s just fanfiction.

I’m not asking the KuroTsukki fans for anything, I don’t care. But I do understand why you ship it, I just hate that people actually ship it. I’m just saying, the very reason you are shipping KuroTsukki in the first place, is the same reason why hate for this ship festers. And as long as the implication is there, I will never forgive this fandom. Because Yamaguchi is my favorite character, and I will always put him first. Fuck everyone who thinks Yamaguchi is ugly.

Also, if you’re wondering. Yes, I noticed Yamaguchi first, it’s Tsukki I’m setting aside. And obviously, I don’t even love Tsukki half as much. But no, I wouldn’t pair Yamaguchi up with anyone else, as I don’t like feeling unfair.

I tried hard not to talk about my hate, I lasted in this fandom for this long pressing my lips in a tight line. When I saw that post last night, I tried to sleep it off. But it didn’t work, and that’s why I’m writing this at four in the fucking morning. [EDIT: I saved this under drafts so I could decide if I still felt angry enough to post it later. And after more sleep and some food, I still felt the need to post this. Not sorry.]

So the blogs hit 26k which is something I never imagined happening ever! It’s amazing to have such support behind my writing, but also to see you guys caring so much about each other and me! You’re a wonderful follower community and you’re always so lovely and supportive!

So in honour of the 26k I decided to do a fan stuff contest.

The basic premise of the fan-art and fan-fiction or better yet fan-creation contest is that you guys make anything that relates to me or something i’ve written. It could be a drawing of me, a piece about the Angela and Charlotte Hogwarts AU, a drawing for a series i’ve written etc. As long as relates to me or something i’ve written or the blog then it counts! 

It can be written, drawn, hand made, an edit, etc. if you make it whether it’s a gif set or a drawing then it counts. Winners will not be chosen on skill so much as concept, you don’t have to be an amazing artist with 50 years under your belt, as long as the concepts something I like, something that makes me smile then you have a chance of winning. 

Rules:

  • Must be following the blog, I will check
  • Must have your ask box open so I can contact you if you win
  • What you enter must be your own work 
  • You’ll be entered once no matter how many things you put in, but obviously more things might mean I choose your stuff simply because I see more of your stuff.
  • Winners will be chosen on what makes me smile, what I like, but all entries winners or not will be beautiful and just because you don’t win doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy what you did!
  • Please naturally be respectful with what you choose to do, if you’re not sure if something will upset me then ask before you do it

How to enter?

To enter either place the item in my submit box telling me it’s for the contest, send it to the email with your tumblr url (imaginesofeveryfandom@gmail.com) telling me it’s for the contest, or tag the blog and tag the post with #ioeffancreationcontest letting me know it’s for the contest! 

Prizes:

  1. 2 first place winners will receive fully drawn bust drawings by me of either themselves, a character, a friend etc. and a short drabble writing of their choice, it could be readerxcharacter, characterxcharacter, etc. 
  2. 4 second place winners will receive coloured bust sketches by me of either themselves, a character, a friend, etc. 
  3. 6 third place winners will receive a colourless sketch bust of a character, themselves, a friend, etc.

Everyone who enters will see their pieces reblogged, added, submited on the blog and put into the 26kfollowerscontest tag and will get to see my prise + comments and seeing your lovely creations. 

End date: 

The contest will end and winners will be chosen May 8th 2017 to give you all enough time to do things, decide if you want to enter, but also as i’m back home over Easter for a month this means you’re not waiting for me do prizes until I come back.

I can’t wait to see all the awesome things you guys make and thank you all for the support! 26,000 followers is amazing and I love you and am proud of you all!!

Examples of my art:

Center of Gravity

Originally posted by aom1lli

You had been procrastinating work since 3 hours and 15 minutes ago- well now- you looked up and there goes by another minute of time you’ve wasted today. You had by then wasted 3 hours and 16 minutes of your life watching random videos on YouTube which mostly involved dogs and the different kind of breeds worldwide. You weighed on whether to click another video which was around 10 minutes long and just start making your video after exactly 4 hours of procrastinating, but just as you were about to click the video, a notification pop out.

Hey babe watcha doin? Came the text from your boyfriend and you quickly sat up from lying down on your stomach on the floor for hours. Did he know you were procrastinating? If anything Jay hates it when you procrastinate. He was the always-on-the-move kind of guy and never sat down to even think or breathe. He was always clapping his hands asking you to get your ass off bed and to get moving. You quickly got up from your living room floor and went to your room getting ready to make the video you were going to make today. Then you would reply his text saying you were busy shooting your new video for your account.

Three minutes into the video, the bell rang signalling someone at your front door. You cursed out and looked at the watch hanging inside your bedroom wall. You had only been recording for three minutes and god just had to test your strength. You were barely able to even go through the 3 minutes. You quickly got up from your usual seat and walked towards the door, with foundation still on the back of your hand. You opened your door and popped your head out, not even leaving any gap wanting to show whoever was at the door that you were busy and in no state of having guest.

“Hey baby.” Jay looked up from his phone and smiled at you, holding up a plastic bag in which seemed to hold a Krispy Kreme box inside. You bit your lips and inhaled in, looking at your boyfriend with a grim smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t you read my text? I said I was coming over?”

“Oh you did?”

Keep reading

Rota Fortunae

Originally posted by taegxk

Words: 3,812.

Genre: Angst? Soul swap au? how do I classify this??

Request: You and Taehyung bump into each other and swap souls.

Summary: “Though you had never been a firm believer in fate, maybe it was her doing that constantly led to having Kim Taehyung in your life – and you could not help but to despise him.”

A/N: This was a very different request that I really wanted to write and honestly I don’t even know how this turned out but it was fun. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 lmao

Keep reading

John paused in his typing to look up at his flatmate across the sitting room. The telly was on, but the volume was turned down, so it was more of an ambient noise. Neither of them had been watching anyway. John had been typing up their latest case, while Sherlock had been sprawled in their armchair with his fingers steepled together underneath his chin.

It was disconcerting how quiet Sherlock had been since they had returned from Scotland Yard. He seemed to be staring at nothing, and the bluish-white glow coming from the telly danced eerily across his pale features. Even as John had been struggling with the right words to put on his blog, he had also been bracing himself for another of Sherlock’s dark moods following the close of another case. And even though John should’ve already been used to it, the way Sherlock had been watching him closely for the past several minutes still gave John an uneasy feeling, like he was another one of those organisms being placed on a glass slide and examined under Sherlock’s microscope.

He wondered what was occupying Sherlock’s mind at the moment for him to be so deep in thought. And he wondered what Sherlock was deducing about him now. As he ducked his head to return to his writing, however, it was then that Sherlock finally decided to break his silence.

“Why do you always follow me?”

John’s fingers froze over the keyboard. Slowly, he raised his head to meet Sherlock’s piercing eyes. “Would you care to be more specific than that?” John frowned as his gaze settled on the bandages circling Sherlock’s left hand. “How’s your wrist?”

“The swelling has reduced considerably. I’ve been keeping it elevated above my heart like you’ve said. Why do you always follow me? Why do you always go where I go, even when I don’t ask you to?”

Of course Sherlock would be as direct and blunt in this as he was in everything else. John rubbed his eyebrows tiredly. He carefully saved his blog entry for him to edit later and closed his laptop to give Sherlock his full attention. “What brought this on, Sherlock?” he asked gently. “Why are you suddenly asking me this?”

“You don’t answer a question with another question.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “You’re deflecting.”

“And you’re being irrational.” John pursed his lips. “Is this about last night? Did you not want me to be there?”

“What I want is irrelevant,” Sherlock said curtly. “You could’ve been shot. Again.

“And you could’ve broken something worse than your wrist,” John snapped. “You jumped out of a window, for Christ’s sake!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to if you hadn’t been there to be an easy target!” Sherlock shot back.

John inhaled sharply, and Sherlock clamped his mouth shut.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” John said quietly, his voice suddenly made of steel.

Sherlock glared at him for a few more seconds before he resolutely turned his head to stare broodingly out the window. John pressed his lips together indignantly before he reached for the remote and turned off the television. Dimly he noted that his left hand was steady as it slowly replaced the remote on the table. Then with a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Sherlock and silently waited for the storm to pass.

He didn’t have long to wait. “Did it ever occur to you, John,” said Sherlock, “That it might be wrong for you to follow me?”

John narrowed his eyes in apprehension. The anger and the hurt were still simmering low in his gut, but he could feel his pulse quickening with worry. “Why are you saying this, Sherlock?”

“Because I don’t always know.”

And it was this simple, quiet admission that stole the breath out of John. “What?

Slowly, Sherlock turned to face him again. Sadness, frustration, doubt, and self-pity were all warring within his grey gaze. “I don’t always know what I’m doing, John. Sometimes it seems like I do, but I don’t. I really don’t. I don’t know everything all the time.”

And underneath it all, John realized with a jolt of surprise, was guilt.

“Of course you don’t, Sherlock, that’s not why I—”

“I can’t always anticipate what will happen next. I can’t always accurately predict what the next move should be. I don’t always know where we should go or what we should do or who we should trust.” John’s eyes were widening at the almost hysterical note Sherlock’s words were escalating to. “I don’t always know what’s right or what’s true and if you follow me all the time I might lead you to a mistake, John. Because sometimes I’m wrong and—”

Sherlock abruptly stopped to catch his breath, and John unconsciously inhaled along with him. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath along with Sherlock.

“And it might cost you your life,” Sherlock finished softly.

And there it was: the crux of the matter, the source of this ridiculously convoluted misunderstanding. Sherlock’s eyes were oddly bright and he turned away, blinking furiously.

“Sherlock, you self-righteous twat,” John whispered. “I don’t follow you because you’re right all the time. I follow you because—”

He felt his throat suddenly constrict, and he swallowed, unable to continue speaking.

The chain felt heavy against his chest.

“Because what, John?” Sherlock quietly asked.

He turned at the sound of a clinking chain, unnaturally loud in the quiet that descended upon the room. Sherlock blinked as he realized that John had loosened his shirt at the collar and was clutching at the end of a chain that dangled from his neck. John caught his inquisitive gaze and smiled at him tentatively.

“Do you know what this is?” John asked.

“Yes,” answered Sherlock, before he hesitantly added, “It’s your dog tag from your days in Afghanistan.”

He watched as John stared at it with an unreadable expression on his face. “Did you know I was still wearing it?”

“I’ve… always suspected,” Sherlock began slowly, “but you always wore your shirts buttoned up to the collar, so I never really had proof.” He straightened in his seat and let his hands fold delicately onto his lap. “Until now.”

John’s gaze rose to steadily meet his. “Do you know what it’s for?”

Sherlock took his time in answering, suddenly wary of the direction the conversation was heading. “It’s worn by military personnel, required at all times especially while on the field,” he said. When John remained silent, and seemed to wait for him to continue, Sherlock took a deep breath before he elaborated. “It contains the bearer’s basic medical information, such as blood type and history of inoculations, as well as the bearer’s religious preferences. Its primary use is for identification of the dead or the wounded should they ever be left out in the battlefield.”

“And with these tags, the bodies can be properly treated or disposed,” John quietly added. He ran his fingers over the twin pendants. “If the bearer is killed, the second tag is collected for notification, and the first remains with the body for later identification. That is, if they even come back for it.”

Sherlock felt his chest suddenly tighten. “Why are you telling me this?”

John smiled at him, but there was no humor in his eyes. “You’re the genius, Sherlock. Why don’t you tell me the reason why I’m still wearing it?”

Sherlock frowned anxiously, but the intrigue of solving this puzzle – the enigmatic Dr. John Watson – proved too tempting to resist. He leaned forward in his seat and let his elbows rest on his knees as his steepled fingers touched his lips. He peered at John closely.

“It’s definitely not because of a fashion statement,” Sherlock declared. “It’s not exactly something you like putting on display for people to notice since you’ve been hiding it underneath your clothes all this time.”

The corners of John’s eyes crinkled in suppressed amusement, and he nodded for Sherlock to continue.

He cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowed in deep thought. “And it’s not because of sentimental attachment either,” Sherlock said slowly. “You’ve been having nightmares about the war, and it’s not something you enjoy reliving.” This time, John’s eyes widened in surprise. “Some of these memories… are things you’d rather forget.”

Sherlock noted with satisfaction the way John’s jaw clenched and the way his fist tightened around the chain. He probably didn’t expect that Sherlock knew that much about him.

“But wearing that dog tag isn’t helping you forget these nightmares,” Sherlock mused. “So why not just discard it or put it away? Why hold on to it?”

John was silent. Sherlock watched him closely, determined to know the answer. Then his gaze flickered to the gun resting beside John’s laptop, and he breathed out, “Oh.”

John tilted his head. “Figured it out, then?”

Sherlock looked into John’s eyes. “It’s for security. Wearing it gives you a sense of comfort.” He glanced briefly at the silver pendants. “It somehow makes you feel… safer.”

John was looking at him as if he was expecting more. When it seemed that Sherlock was done speaking, John slowly let out the breath he had been holding and shook his head, a small smile on his lips.

“So close, Sherlock,” John murmured. “So very, very close… but not quite.”

Mesmerized, Sherlock watched as John rolled his neck and raised his fist above and around his head to remove the necklace. The chains clinked against each other as John dropped his arm, the tags clutched firmly in his left hand.

John’s eyes were a deep, dark blue as he opened his fingers and gazed at the engravings. Sherlock couldn’t help but notice that, under the dim light of their sitting room, John looked more tired and world-weary than ever.

“I was scared to be without this identification, Sherlock,” John finally admitted quietly. “That’s the simplest and most basic truth, summed up for your judgment. I was scared.”

Sherlock’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Because,” John said softly, “I was scared I might disappear.”

Sherlock swore he literally felt and heard his mind grind to a halt. “What?”

Desperately, he tried to catch John’s gaze, but already John was somewhere far away, caught between a desert sun and a rain of bullets, a place where Sherlock had no hope of following.

“I went to join the war in Afghanistan because I wanted to be somebody. Not in the sense that I wanted fame or recognition, but… I wanted to be useful in this world. I don’t want to waste my life just standing by and doing nothing. I wanted to matter.”

His right hand reached over to clutch his left shoulder. “And then this happened, and I was sent back to London before I was done fighting, like some discarded piece of broken weaponry and—”

The chains rattled as John’s left hand trembled of its own accord.

“And then I was a nobody again,” John whispered. “I was a limping, wretched waste of space, whose hard-earned medical degree had been useless in curing the pain that didn’t even exist.

“John,” Sherlock interjected, and he inwardly cursed himself for being truly at a loss for words. Helpless, he could only watch as John curled his right hand over his left in an effort to control the tremors. John let out a shaky breath as he dropped his gaze and stared at the floor as he spoke.

“Did you know, Sherlock,” John murmured. “I used to stare at the walls of my old flat and think, ‘I could die here, and no one would even know. No one would even remember who I am, or what I did in my short, pathetic life.’”

And then suddenly, the gears clicked together in Sherlock’s mind, and the reason became glaringly, horrifyingly clear.

John,” Sherlock whispered.

“I figured if I’m wearing these tags when I die,” John said softly, “At least they’d know my name.”

Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat when John suddenly raised his head to smile at him. “You know, I think your brother figured me out even before you did, Sherlock. Hell, I think he knew even before I did.”

Sherlock frowned. “What does Mycroft have to do with anything?”

“He told me the truth,” John said simply. “‘When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield.’”

Sherlock’s brows creased. He had been watching John closely all this time, and after that strange pronouncement, he couldn’t understand why John looked so… at peace with it. “Because I always lead you to danger?” Sherlock asked tentatively. “Because I risk your life everyday when I ask you to follow me?”

John stared at him for a long moment. And then impossibly, against all reason, John’s smile widened. “You were right.”

“I was right.” Sherlock blinked. “Right about what?”

“You really don’t always know.” John was grinning now, and the change that overcame his previously solemn features was staggering. “So you better listen closely, because I’m going to tell you something I can’t believe you still don’t know.”

John stood up and walked to the center of the sitting room. “And I’m actually glad you asked, because I realized…”

And Sherlock could only gape in shock as John promptly dropped his dog tag in a carton box in the middle of the floor.

“I don’t need this anymore.”

Sherlock stared at the twin pieces of metal resting against his leather gloves. “Why?”

John straightened, his shoulders thrown back. His whole body felt suddenly, immeasurably lighter without the added weight around his neck. “Because your brother is right. I do see the battlefield in you. And you’re a war worth fighting for. Because regardless of what other people think of you, or what you think of yourself, you’re a good man, Sherlock Holmes. And I follow you,” John paused, reevaluated his words, and amended, “I choose to walk with you, beside you, because…”

He turned to face Sherlock fully.

“You’re my greatest victory. You’re the battle I’ve already won.”

Stormy grey eyes met a calm sea of blue as Sherlock swallowed and asked, “And what were you fighting against?”

And John’s weathered face broke into a gentle smile. “Being forgotten.”

The spell that had wrapped around them was suddenly broken by the jarring sound of a ringing phone. Both men stared at each other stupidly for a moment before John realized that the sound was coming from his own pocket. He reached inside his jacket and fumbled with his phone as he stared at the name flashing across the screen. “It’s one of my patients,” John muttered. “Hang on, Sherlock, I have to take this call, excuse me for a moment.” He stepped out into the hallway to answer.

Several minutes later, John hanged up, a worried frown creasing his forehead. “Sorry, Sherlock, but I think I have to head out tonight.” He replaced his phone back in his pocket and turned towards Sherlock.   “I have to go visit this patient of mine, he seems to be having complications with his… medication…”

John’s words trailed off. He stood in the hallway, transfixed, not trusting himself to speak, not even daring to breathe.

Sherlock was now standing in the middle of the sitting room, his body half-turned away from John. His head was bowed, and his unruly curls had fallen across his face, partially obscuring John’s view of his eyes. In his bandaged hand, he was clutching John’s dog tag.

And with agonizing slowness, Sherlock raised the twin pendants to his mouth and pressed his lips tenderly against them.

I’ll remember.” The words were murmured against the cold metal in an intimate caress, a solemn promise, a heartfelt truth. “I’ll remember.

Whisk Me Away

Update - hardly any of the tags work right now, but I’ll fix it later.

You know me, just another Rae/Finn AU. Both in their early twenties, setting - today & not the 80s or 90s. I’ve edited this chapter a fair bit, but there may be some mistakes still.

As always - tagging: @towongfu2 @milllott @lau-vm @celestev31 @tinakegg @milymargot @jackiewalsh2013 @annemarieted @mmfdfanfic @mykuhkors @i-dream-of-emus @rhi3915 @kneekeyta @kingbeeyonce @fuck-sewing-machine @irish-girl-84 @lovinglifeandlivinglove @nutinanutshell @voodoomarie @rockinthebeastmode @mirandasmadeofstone @protectfinnnelson @hey1tskat1e @eveerez @workinggirl101

Let me know if you’d like a tag. Also, hopefully these tags work - they’ve been giving me a bit of trouble!!!

(Tumblr won’t let me add this right now, but I’m going to anyway, but without @lilaviolet @arathewallflower @eveerez @hey1tskat1e @milllott @areyousad8118 and all the other lovelies I would have taken much longer to edit this chapter and it wouldn’t be coming out tonight!) As always, thank you for your feedback, kudos and reblogs.

Keep reading

733 words, Estimated reading time: 4 minutes

Brooklyn, 1940

Steve Rogers had been eying a 35mm Kodak in the store window for months. He’d never said anything about it though, because he knew times were tough and there was NO WAY he could scrape up 17 whole dollars for it.
But Steve didn’t need to say anything because Bucky saw every lingering gaze each time they walked passed that window and he swore to himself that he’d get it for him no matter how he had to do it.
Over the next few months, Bucky worked tons of overtime at the factory and any other odd job he could find. Didn’t matter what it was. If he didn’t know how to do it, he’d learn. Any sort of car repair, any and all house/apartment fixes, shoe shining.
He even pawned a few things he probably wouldn’t miss too much.
As Steve’s birthday neared, Bucky had finally scraped and saved enough to buy the camera, and even had enough left over to buy a couple new paint brushes and a new pad of paper.
“What’s this Buck?” Steve said tentatively, eyeing the package on the table in their kitchen on the morning of July 4, 1941.
“Thought we didn’t have the money for any birthday presents this year.” Steve questioned with an arched brow.
“Just open it.” Bucky coaxed, with a soft but eager smile. He held the paper and brushes behind his back to reveal after the camera.
Steve eyed him suspiciously for a moment more before stepping up to the table and examining the brown paper wrapped cube.
He carefully pulled on the tape holding the paper flaps one by one until the paper fell open, revealing the boxed camera inside.

Steve immediately froze. His mouth slowly dropped open as he blinked and stared at it.
It couldn’t possibly be… maybe it’s just the box and there’s something else inside it.

“W-,” Steve’s voice was hoarse so he cleared his throat and began again. “What’s inside?” He whispered, with a tentative look back up at Bucky, who was gazing at him expectantly.
“Open it up and see.” Bucky said with a laugh.
Steve’s nimble fingers slipped under the top flap and lifted slowly, like he was scared something was gonna come out and bite him.
As he saw that it truly was the camera sitting in the box, he felt tears prickling at his eyes.
There’s no way…
“Buck…” Started Steve, but his throat was too tight to speak further, so he just looked up at him with glistening eyes.
“Happy birthday Stevie.” Bucky said as he placed the pad of paper and two brushes on the table as well.
Steve threw his small frame against Bucky’s in the tightest hug he could manage. As he stumbled back a couple steps, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and held onto him.
“How?” Steves small voice was muffled against Bucky’s chest.
“Don’t worry about it.” Was all Bucky said.
Steve would press more about it later, but right now he was too eager to try it out.

After finally letting go, Steve immediately went to the table to position the film inside the camera, pushing aside the paper and brushes for later in his excitement.
He’d apparently been researching everything about this camera long before now and was already well aware of how it worked.
He scrambled out the door, down the stairs and skidded to a stop outside their apartment building dragging Bucky behind him all the way.
Steve walked out and stood several feet away from Bucky and brought the camera up to look through the view finder at him.
“Come on Stevie.. what are you doin with that thing? You don’t need no pictures of me.” He grumbled.
Steve ignored him and continued fiddling with the knobs and switches until he had it where he wanted it and looked up eagerly at Bucky.
Bucky sighed and let his arms drop by his sides in defeat.
“Fine… so whaddya want me to do.” Bucky conceded.
“Just stand there and stay still.” Steve answered as he looked through the view finder and squared up his shot.
“That’s it? I feel like an idiot.” Bucky flatly uttered.
“Well that’s a coincidence, cause you look like an idiot too.” Steve teased, as he snapped the picture.

challenge // hs

Originally posted by hryhoney

request:  Imagine: The reader is a famous YouTuber and Her and Harry make a couple video thanks :))

A/N: I know you were probably expecting something cute like the boyfriend tag or Harry being all adorable in a tutorial video and I really like this whole concept so maybe that will happen one day but this just sort of flowed out and it seemed so realistic to me and I just liked it so i went with it and I really hope you don’t hate it anon and I didn’t edit because it’s a bit long but I’ll probably go back later and fix some stuff if i need to and I really hope you enjoy this :)

Harry liked to consider himself as a private person.

Everyone wanted a piece of his life. They wanted to know the things he ate, the places he went, the people he saw, the things he did. They wanted every little part of his life on full display so that they could judge him, tell him how to live his life differently. He didn’t want any part of that life. So he tried his best to keep his private life, well…private. There were a lot of obstacles in the way of that form the paparazzi to people with camera phones, but the biggest obstacle of all was you. You and your camera that you toted everywhere. You’d never once asked him to assist in a video and if you ever caught a glimpse of him on your camera, you’d edit that part out. He noticed that you went to great lengths to keep him out of your Youtube career for more than one reason. When you’d first met, it almost turned him away from you, but he didn’t let something so trivial keep him from someone he liked so much. You had promised him then that you’d never put him on screen.

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anonymous asked:

tell us more about how you got your first book published/proposed/whatever the first step is??? (also sorry if you've covered this before i tried to google a bit!!!) (also i am a huge fan HIII I LOVE YOUR WORK AND YOUR ATTITUDE)

i’ve definitely talked about it before, but i know my /answers tag is… very full of things… so i don’t mind!

Anyway, my understanding is that typically you would look for a book agent first, pitching them on your concept or making the case for your book idea, then work with them to fine tune, nail down a solid pitch, and then work with them to pitch many publishers and specific editors. you benefit from their professional relationships to make something happen.

in my case, i was doing what i still do, which is share art online (mostly tumblr back then), self-publishing zines and my unsolicited advice weekly planners. an editor at penguin spotted my work, and reached out to me. editors are under pressure to spot writers and artists for books too, so they’re just out there hunting too and you never know. i got an email out of nowhere around january 2013 that was like “hi i’m an editor at penguin books and i think we should meet for coffee” and that was kind of it. i tried very hard not to die.

so we met, talked about ideas, and my first thought was like OMG A POSTCARD BOOK??? (at the time i was making and selling lots of postcards). she helped me focus in, identifying the interactive parts of my planners as a potential book idea, though it’d need to be undated so it would have a longer shelf life. even then it wasn’t a done deal, she had to go back and think about it and other people weighed in, and i mailed her a bunch of zines and other stuff from my shop (which was at the time even weirder). eventually i guess it worked and they offered me a contract! she essentially brought her world of knowledge – concepts that work, positioning that might help it cross over, and an eye for content – that helped me make 1 Page at a Time happen. I had a lot to learn and was also much more up my own ass about “my art” at that time. she reminded me that for most people it’d be the first they heard of me, that it was okay to lean into work I had already made and to be as me and weird as possible.

anyway that book did super well in brazil pretty much immediately because of the current trends there at the time (”wreck this journal” had just become really really popular but there were no other interactive journals like that yet). they released it before the USA release date and it was on bestseller lists before the english edition even came out. that success helped penguin’s foreign rights team sell the book to many other foreign publishers and combined it meant that my book was able to end up in a lot of hands. and it is still going, maybe even going stronger now that it’s in more places, has been around long enough for people to see it and think about it and then maybe decide to buy it.

for book 2 (Pick Me Up) i got an agent (i’m represented by LGR) and now i work with an amazing woman there who helps with negotiation, helped me set up meetings with different publishers when i wanted to do a stationery collection, and otherwise works as my advocate. because i already had the first book i could have continued to work without an agent but it’s nice to not be alone and also to benefit from someone’s, you know, wealth of knowledge about tiny details and industry people that i just don’t know anything about. she definitely knows the right questions to ask and understands all the intricacies of the contracts and percentages and all the different sales channels that effect how authors get paid.

so that’s sort of it for me, it was a little backwards. decently-popular book first, then an agent, then more stuff. it’s going ok so far!!!!! but there are so many paths. self-publishing is way easier than even 5 years ago and people make real money doing it themselves if they already have an audience or just have a concept that’s really strong or they sort of game amazon’s category ranking system (amazon is like its own world basically). people get book deals and huge advances and then if the book doesn’t meet expectation and the publisher has already spent a lot of money on them, they might not take a chance on a second book. there’s a lot of guessing and expectations and i guess i really benefit from being a pleasant surprise. 

which isn’t to say i am killing it because literally, i am not, i am not rich i am not selling millions of copies, but i am grateful to just get to make books at all. zines i know how to do, and now i guess i do know how to selfpublish my own books, but i’m grateful to benefit from the scale and production and distribution i have, and also penguin merged with random house so now i literally have a contract with the biggest publisher in the world so i don’t really plan on breaking that!

there are tons of different kinds of publishers but it does still come down to actual individual people buying the book and telling their friends and that’s the hardest part. please tell your friends i made some books lol.

I have finally decided it’s time to open up commissions! 

But why?

I can manage to scrap together a living, I would really like to do more. I’d like to have some money to move this summer when that time comes. I’ll be staying with my aunts until I get a job and a place, it’d be nice to have some already saved to get an actual house for me and kiddo (instead of just an apartment). I’d also like to start saving up for my top surgery, which more than likely won’t be covered by insurance and is definitely a pretty penny. 

I don’t expect to make a living doing commissions (though I would at some point like to start publishing original fiction - that’s a far off dream at this point). But everything helps, and I always feel terrible asking for donations - I’d like to give something back to you guys. So fanfic it is!

So You Aren’t Publishing Free Work Anymore?

Not at all! I’m going to continue publishing as regularly on my blog as I can. I’m a writer - commissions or not, I can’t stop the flow of ideas. Commissions are just a way to get something written as you want it written, and to give me a little extra money for real life! 

Though I will note that my output may slow down in the upcoming months - I’ve got a very busy summer coming up and I know it’ll interfere with the amount of time I have to write. Commissions will come first for writing, big events (like bangs and bingos) second, and random ideas third.

Soooo… How Does It Work?

Here’s the link for everything in detail on my blog, but the break down is under the cut:

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