this book is nothing i expected

virgillikespurple  asked:

dude, roman, sweetie, hit me with all the cutie pie high school roman hc you got ☆

I AM (JEREMY) HEERE 

- Everyone expected him to join theater to act, but he actually designs the sets and costumes 

- He is an amazing actor and singer, but he his really shy and so he doesnt audition for any roles

- He is also trans, but he can’t afford a binder

- His pride gets in the way. A lot.

- he can quote musicals (and plays and books and movies… pretty much anything) at you

- loves dinsey but nothing he owns is disney

- Cares about his siblings so much, he is the one they always goes to when upset 

- he internalizes his feelings and refuses to talk about them

- refuses to drink alcohol

- he is passionate about a lot

- visual learner (Logan helps him in a lot of his classes when the teachers refuse to teach in a way all their students can understand)

- Virgil taught him how to dance

- He doesnt trust adults at all

- Dramatic

- He is bullied for being The Poor Kid

- He often skips meals because theres never enough food for three people and he doesnt want his siblings to go hungry 

- Patton, in response, always brings him something to eat it - claiming it is for a new recipe (Roman knows it isnt, but he is to proud to accept the help without Pattons lie)

- buys art supplied with his birthday and christmas money from his friends

- works at the local theater, sells art and has a part time job in a shop

(he spends the money from all of that on food for his siblings and presents for them)

- gay

- his mum his an alcoholic and his dad left them when he was only a baby, and she struggles to keep a job, so he is the only source of income for the household

- hates the smell of smoke because his mum is a heavy smoker and his clothes have always stunk of smoke

“hello,” the dark lord said, “i need a library card.”

“everyone needs a library card,” the librarian said brightly, sliding a form across the desk. “fill this out.”

the dark lord produced her own elaborately plumed quill from the depths of her robes and scrawled her name in handwriting that was completely illegible but seemed to whisper the secrets of the dark from the blinding white page. “yes, but i need mine in order to take over the tri-kingdom area.”

the librarian’s polite smile barely faltered. “funny, the last dark lord to try that didn’t bother with a card.”

“yes, and do you see that fool currently ruling our kingdom? no. of course not. utterly ridiculous, to attempt to take over any size country without a library card, much less an intermediate-sized one like this.” she accepted the thin plastic card with a gracious flourish of her gloved hand.

the librarian, adding the new card’s number to the database, privately agreed, but chose not to say anything.


the librarian balanced the pile of pulled books under one elbow and held the list of call numbers in their hand for easy consultation. “intermediate spell casting for grades three and four,” they murmured, running fingers along the peeling spines until they found it. “willing to bet that’s sorrel’s request.”

they fit the large, paperbound book under their elbow and moved on, checking the list again. “magical creatures encyclopedia, L through M. that’s jackaby trying to finish the entire set by midsummer.” they would get that one last to carry it around the shortest amount of time.

“next — the complete guide to raising the dead.” they paused in front of the row of shelves with the right call numbers. they could guess the requester of that one too, but knew better than to say it out loud.


the return slot thunked loudly as it swung open and closed, having swallowed the returned books with a wet gulp.

“good morning,” the dark lord said pleasantly as she looked up from sliding her books in — or as pleasantly as “good morning” could sound when it was uttered by a voice that sounded like gravel being chewed to pieces by the jaws of a large monster.

“it is, very,” the librarian said crisply, conjuring a clean handkerchief for the still-slobbering return slot.

the mouth just visible under the dark lord’s enormous cloak hood curved into a scythe’s blade smile, but she said nothing else.

“did you enjoy your books?” the librarian asked, since she wasn’t moving and there were no other people waiting (most likely because of the dark lord standing there).

the hood nodded up and down. “extremely. especially the taped lecture by doctor dramidius ardorius of the dark arts institute.”

“well, we have many more taped lectures. i especially recommend the one on the healing powers of tea.” they tilted their head in a now get out sign. the poor steam-powered self-checkout contraption would get overheated if people were too scared to check out at the front desk.

they didn’t really expect the dark lord to take the recommendation seriously, but the next day they noticed the cloaked, hooded specter glide out the door with the taped lecture on magic-infused herbal teas tucked between a CD of dark chants and a step-by-step art book on drawing occult symbols.


“you give good recommendations,” the dark lord said with a shrug when the librarian raised their eyes from the front desk’s computer to the shadows of her hood.

the librarian wasn’t sure what to say. “you seem to take up quite a lot of my time.”

“i’m only a simple library patron,” the dark lord replied in a saintly voice that resembled a dragon coughing up a partially digested house. “do you enjoy mermaid song?”

“yes. you can find the library’s collection in the CD section over there.” they looked pointedly back down at the computer.

“i hear there’s a concert on the shore tomorrow evening.”

“perhaps we’ll get a recording of it.”


the dark lord continued taking out books on various unsavory topics. the librarian continued suggesting books on healing, positive thinking, and community service. the dark lord seemed more amused with each visit. her smile was almost charming, once you got past the long, sharp teeth.


the librarian was trying to go about their usual morning ritual of pulling books that had been requested the night before, but the dark lord wouldn’t stop making faces at them from behind gaps in the shelves. she seemed to find it hilarious. the librarian hadn’t decided yet if they were amused or annoyed.

“ooh, look at this,” the dark lord said, pulling a sturdy but beaten up board book featuring a werewolf mid-transformation on the cover from the shelf. “this was my favorite when i was just a little menace.”

“somehow i’m not surprised.”

the dark lord tucked the book into the ridiculous basket made of a large skull that floated alongside her. “didn’t you have a favorite picture book when you were little?”

“Barker the Sentient Book End,” the librarian said promptly. “i screamed for it every night until someone read it to me, long after i’d already memorized each page.”

the dark lord cooed, sounding like a cross between an owl and something eating an owl. “adorable. i knew you had a little monster in you somewhere.”

the librarian crossly debated denying being a monster at all or pointing out they had actual kraken blood in them.


they should have guessed how close the dark lord was from how good her mood was, but it wasn’t until they arrived at work on monday that the librarian heard the news.

“the newest dark lord managed to overthrow the faeyrie monarchy last night. something about combining traditional herbal spells with a newfangled mental magic based on the power of willful thinking… or something. the news reporter mentioned the use of mermaid song in a mild kind of mind control, i think? i wasn’t listening. the good news is, our budget stays in place.”

the librarian contemplated hurling the can of bookmarks across the room, but concluded that it would be both unprofessional and unsatisfying. they settled for aggressively stamping returned, only slightly saliva-covered books with red ink.


the phone clicked loudly. “public library, how can i help you?”

“by taking my offer,” the dark lord said, slightly hesitant voice like a rock slide that wasn’t sure it was ready to slide. “the royal library in the capital needs a new head librarian.”

“why’s that?” the librarian spun in their new swivel chair, tangling the phone cord while they were at it, thinking they wouldn’t want to leave so soon after getting it.

there was a cough like the ocean spitting out a new island. “erm, hmm, last one got… eaten. tragic. these things happen when you’re very, very small, you know.”

“so i’ve heard.” the librarian stretched the phone cord and watched it bounce back. “well, i’m happy where i am.”

“well.” her voice was more disappointed than they’d expected. “it’s a very nice library, you know. large selection of mermaid song in the CD section.”

“the royal library is part of our system. i can request any materials from there that i want to be delivered here.”

a pause. the dark lord had not considered this. “well, maybe i’ll take the royal library out of the system.”

“you wouldn’t dare disrupt the workings of our very intricate library system set up at the dawn of time.”

“maybe i would!”

“no.”

“fine. i wouldn’t.”

the librarian swiveled some more, wrapping the cord around with them until it ran out of give and spun them in the other direction. “would you like to grab a coffee sometime?”

“yes,” the dark lord said, voice too surprised to resemble anything in particular. “i can travel down meet you tomorrow morning.”

“don’t you have things to do?”

they could sense the shrug from the other end of the line. “i’ll move the capital to your town. i can do that, you know. i’m the supreme ruler of the tri-kingdom area.”

“yes,” the librarian agreed, un-spinning to return the phone to its cradle. “just don’t forget who gave you the library card.”

11 writing problems and solutions

Writing is a craft. It takes time for anyone to learn and improve. But there are some shortcuts you can try, maybe adapt to your own needs. Here are 11 writing problems and their solutions, or hacks.

Too many ideas syndrome

Problem: You have too many equally good story ideas and can’t pick just one to write.

Solution: Select your top 3 favorite stories and write the first scene of all three. If you can’t decide, write the first chapter. The right project will be easier to work with, you’ll have fun writing it, you will be daydreaming about the story, you will love the characters. So, give away three chances instead of one.

Originally posted by gypsyastronaut

Outline spoiling the fun

Problem: Whenever you outline a story idea, it completely spoils your will to write it. The mystery is gone.

Solution: Instead of outlining the whole story, just make a clear goal on how your characters should end. Will they succeed? Will they fail? Will they be happy? Will they find redemption? Will they be wronged? Decide how your story should end and explore the plot as you go. Remember, no one will read your first draft, so just write.

Lost midway

Problem: If you are a pantser, you might get lost in the middle of the story, especially after the first plot point.

Solution: Give your story an ending. If you know where your characters will end up, you’ll have a better understanding of which routes to take. Always keep in mind how the story will end. Use it as the beacon of a lighthouse to guide you through stormy waters.

Creative block

Problem: You don’t have story ideas. Or nothing you have so far excites you enough for a novel.

Solution: Read a book or watch a movie completely out of your genre. This works like magic, I promise. I’m not a sci-fi person, but Akira has given me more story ideas than any movie and book from my own genre.

Originally posted by sunio

Writing anxiety

Problem: You are scared of writing, scared of starting a new story, or just scared of not doing a good job.

Solution: Write a fanfic. No one expects a fanfic to be a masterpiece (although many are). Fanfics are done for fun and for passion. So, write your book in fanfic format. You can even use fandom characters and aus in the process. When the story is completed, change back to original characters.

Editing as you write

Problem: You keep going back to previous paragraphs and editing instead of moving forward with your writing.

Solution: Write your novel by hand. This might sound like a lot of work, but it’s quite the opposite. The white screen of the computer urges you to review, to make it perfect, academic like perfect. The paper however, brings you back to the craft, to the urge of filling lines and pages. Handwriting also gives you the opportunity of sketching and doodling. 

Originally posted by kyoka-sui-get-su

Procrastination

Problem: Tumblr. Youtube. Email. Netflix. Bathroom. Fridge. Bed.

Solution: Go offline. Turn off your wi-fi. Use a device without internet connection. Or, if you keep fooling yourself and turning the internet back on, write your novel by hand. Give yourself a daily hour of internet, but live offline. And if you take unnecessary trips to the fridge or the bathroom, try the pomodoro technique.

Lack of plots

Problem: Nothing relevant is happening, your story looks kind of boring. Or the main plot is too weak for a whole novel.

Solution: Take a few days off. Just relax. When you are ready to go back, read what you have written so far. Maybe you were just tired. But, if the story really sucks, go back to basics. Ask yourself two questions. What type of story am I writing? How will this story end? Follow the answer like a map. Change what needs to be changed, even if you have to delete the whole progress. If you lack plots, don’t add fillers, just go back to basics.  

Weak main character

Problem: Your character lacks personality, voice and/or visuals.

Solution: Give your main character three things. An external battle. An internal battle. And an unique feature. The external battle is their goal, what they want to achieve, what they dream about. An internal battle is their fears, traumas, doubts, mental issues, prejudices and triggers to overcome. An unique feature is what sets them apart from other characters, maybe they have piercings, or tattoos, or pink hair, or lilac eyes, maybe they wear neon boots, or a mask, or mittens, maybe they are left-handed, or blind, maybe they have a scar, or a birthmark. Every amazing main character has external battles, internal battles and unique features.  

Originally posted by takeruandcaterpillars

Depression

Problem: You have no will to write. The passion is gone. You feel empty.

Solution: If you don’t have access to medical help, reading is a good way to reevaluate your career and regain your passion for the words. Read lots of books. Don’t worry about writing, just read. Lose yourself in fictional adventures. Read sci-fi, romance, horror, fantasy, crime, family saga, classics, foreigner fictions, fanfics, shorts, poetry. Immerse in literature. Literature can save lives.  

Strange dialogues

Problem: Dialogues seem too formal, or too much like the narration, or characters lack individuality.

Solution: Read your dialogues out loud while acting as your characters. You can find a quiet empty room for that. Be an actor. Go for the emotions. Record your acting sections, after all, you might improvise at some point.    

Originally posted by gmt1999

The Importance of The Unlikable Heroine

I’ve always had this tendency to apologize for everything—even things that aren’t my fault, things that actually hurt me or were wrongs against me.

It’s become automatic, a compulsion I am constantly fighting. Even more disturbingly, I’ve discovered in conversations with my female friends that I’m not alone in feeling this impulse to be pleasant, to apologize needlessly, to resist showing anger.

After all, if you’re a woman and you demonstrate anger, you’re a bitch, a harpy, a shrew. You’re told to smile more because you will look prettier; you’re told to calm down even when whatever anger or otherwise “unseemly” emotion you’re experiencing is perfectly justified.

If you don’t, no one will like you, and certainly no one will love you.

I’m not sure when this apologetic tendency of mine emerged. Maybe it began during childhood; maybe the influence of social gender expectations had already begun to affect me on a subconscious level. But if I had to guess, I would assume it emerged later, when I became aware through advertisements, media, and various unquantifiable social pressures of what a girl should be—how to act, how to dress, what to say, what emotions are okay and what emotions are not.

Essentially, I became aware of what I should do, as a girl, to be liked, and of how desperate I should be to achieve that state.

Being liked would be the pinnacle of my personal achievement. I could accomplish things, sure—make good grades, go to a good school, have a stellar career. But would I be liked during all of this? That was the important thing.

It angers me that I still struggle with this. It angers me that even though I’m an intelligent, accomplished adult woman, I still experience automatic pangs of inadequacy and shame when I perceive myself to have somehow disappointed these unfair expectations. I can’t always seem to get my emotions under control, and yet I must—because sometimes those emotions are angry or unpleasant or, God forbid, unattractive, and therefore will inconvenience someone or make someone uncomfortable.

Maybe that’s why, in my fiction—both the stories I read and the stories I write—I’ve always gravitated toward what some might call “unlikable” heroines.

It’s difficult to define “unlikability”; the term itself is nebulous. If you asked ten different people to define unlikability, you would probably receive ten different answers. In fact, I hesitated to write this piece simply because art is not a thing that should be quantified, or shoved into “likable” and “unlikable” components.

But then there are those pangs of mine, that urge to apologize for not being the right kind of woman. Insidious expectations lurk out there for our girls—both real and fictional—to be demure and pleasant, to wilt instead of rally, to smile and apologize and hide their anger so they don’t upset the social construct—even when such anger would be expected, excused, even applauded, in their male counterparts.

So for my purposes here, I’ll define a “likable heroine” as one who is unobjectionable. She doesn’t provoke us or challenge our expectations. She is flawed, but not offensively. She doesn’t make us question whether or not we should like her, or what it says about us that we do.

Let me be clear: There is nothing wrong with these “likable” heroines. I can think of plenty such literary heroines whom I adore:

Fire in Kristin Cashore’s Fire. Karou in Laini Taylor’s Daughter of Smoke and Bone series. Jo March in Little Women. Lizzie Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. The Penderwick sisters in Jeanne Birdsall’s delightful Penderwicks series. Arya (at least, in the early books) in A Song of Ice and Fire. Sarah from A Little Princess. Meg Murry from A Wrinkle in Time. Matilda in Roald Dahl’s classic book of the same name.

These heroines are easy to love and root for. They have our loyalty on the first page, and that never wavers. We expect to like them, for them to be pleasant, and they are. Even their occasional unpleasantness, as in the case of temperamental Jo March, is endearing.

What, then, about the “unlikable” heroines?

These are the “difficult” characters. They demand our love but they won’t make it easy. The unlikable heroine provokes us. She is murky and muddled. We don’t always understand her. She may not flaunt her flaws but she won’t deny them. She experiences moral dilemmas, and most of the time recognizes when she has done something wrong, but in the meantime she will let herself be angry, and it isn’t endearing, cute, or fleeting. It is mighty and it is terrifying. It puts her at odds with her surroundings, and it isn’t always easy for readers to swallow.

She isn’t always courageous. She may not be conventionally strong; her strength may be difficult to see. She doesn’t always stand up for herself, or for what is right. She is not always nice. She is a hellion, a harpy, a bitch, a shrew, a whiner, a crybaby, a coward. She lies even to herself.

In other words, she fails to walk the fine line we have drawn for our heroines, the narrow parameters in which a heroine must exist to achieve that elusive “likability”:

Nice, but not too nice.

Badass, but not too badass, because that’s threatening.

Strong, but ultimately pliable.

(And, I would add, these parameters seldom exist for heroes, who enjoy the limitless freedoms of full personhood, flaws and all, for which they are seldom deemed “unlikable” but rather lauded.)

Who is this “unlikable” heroine?

She is Amy March from Little Women. She is Briony from Ian McEwan’s Atonement. Katsa from Kristin Cashore’s Graceling. Jane Austen’s Emma Woodhouse. Sansa from A Song of Ice and Fire. Mary from The Secret Garden. She is Philip Pullman’s Lyra, and C. S. Lewis’s Susan, and Rowling’s first-year Hermione Granger. She is Katniss Everdeen. She is Scarlett O’Hara.

These characters fascinate me. They are arrogant and violent, reckless and selfish. They are liars and they are resentful and they are brash. They are shallow, not always kind. They may be aggressive, or not aggressive enough; the parameters in which a female character can acceptably display strength are broadening, but still dishearteningly narrow. I admire how the above characters embrace such “unbecoming” traits (traits, I must point out, that would not be noteworthy in a man; they would simply be accepted as part of who he is, no questions asked).

These characters learn from their mistakes, and they grow and change, but at the end of the day, they can look at themselves in the mirror and proclaim, “Here I am. This is me. You may not always like me—I may not always like me—but I will not be someone else because you say I should be. I will not lose myself to your expectations. I will not become someone else just to be liked.”

When I wrote my first novel, The Cavendish Home for Boys and Girls, I knew some readers would have a hard time stomaching the character of Victoria. She is selfish, arrogant, judgmental, rigid, and sometimes cruel. Even at the end of the novel, by which point she has evolved tremendously, she isn’t particularly likable, if we go with the above definition.

I had similar concerns about the heroine of my second novel, The Year of Shadows. Olivia Stellatella is a moody twelve-year-old who isolates herself from her peers at school, from her father, from everything that could hurt her. Her circumstances at the beginning of the novel are inarguably terrible: Her mother abandoned their family several months prior, with no explanation. Her father conducts the city orchestra, which is on the verge of bankruptcy. He neglects his daughter in favor of saving his livelihood. He sells their house and moves them into the symphony hall’s storage rooms, where Olivia sleeps on a cot and lives out of a suitcase. She calls him The Maestro, refusing to call him Dad. She hates him. She blames him for her mother leaving.

Olivia is angry and confused. She is sarcastic, disrespectful, and she tells her father exactly what she thinks of him. She lashes out at everyone, even the people who want to help her. Sometimes her anger blinds her, and she must learn how to recognize that.

I knew Olivia’s anger would be hard for some readers to understand, or that they would understand but still not like her.

This frightened me.

As a new author, the prospect of writing these heroines—these selfish, angry, difficult heroines—was a daunting one. What if no one liked them? What if, by extension, no one liked me?

But I’ve allowed the desire to be liked thwart me too many times. The fact that I nearly let my fear discourage me from telling the stories of these two “unlikable” girls showed me just how important it was to tell their stories.

I know my friends and I aren’t the only women who feel that constant urge to apologize, to demur, to rein in anger and mutate it into something more socially acceptable.

I know there are girls out there who, like me at age twelve—like Olivia, like Victoria—are angry or arrogant or confused, and don’t know how to handle it. They see likable girls everywhere—on the television, in movies, in books—and they accordingly paste on strained smiles and feel ashamed of their unladylike grumpiness and ambition, their unseemly aggression.

I want these girls to read about Victoria and Olivia—and Scarlett, Amy, Lyra, Briony—and realize there is more to being a girl than being liked. There is more to womanhood than smiling and apologizing and hiding those darker emotions.

I want them to sift through the vast sea of likable heroines in their libraries and find more heroines who are not always happy, not always pleasant, not always good. Heroines who make terrible decisions. Heroines who are hungry and ambitious, petty and vengeful, cowardly and callous and selfish and gullible and unabashedly sensual and hateful and cunning. Heroines who don’t always act particularly heroic, and don’t feel the need to, and still accept themselves at the end of the day regardless.

Maybe the more we write about heroines like this, the less susceptible our girl readers will be to the culture of apology that surrounds them.

Maybe they will grow up to be stronger than we are, more confident than we are. Maybe they will grow up in a world brimming with increasingly complex ideas about what it means to be a heroine, a woman, a person.

Maybe they will be “unlikable” and never even think of apologizing for it.

“Andrew, are you my boyfriend?” Neil asked.

Without actually meaning to, he’d been paying (probably) too much attention to the way the press referred to Dan and Matt sometimes – the way “captain Dan Wilds” was sometimes “Matt Boyd’s girlfriend,” or how sometimes people speculated about “Nicky Hemmick’s boyfriend from Germany.” And when it came to him and Andrew, Neil didn’t care about labels, not really, or about what people thought they were to each other. Truthfully, Neil knew that boyfriend wasn’t a sufficient enough term for their relationship, but it didn’t hurt to tease Andrew once in every while.

“I am your nothing,” Andrew said, as Neil had expected he would. He was on the couch, legs pulled up close to his chest with a book balanced on his thighs.

From his spot on the other end of the sofa, Neil said, “A rare occasion when you’re wrong,” and bit back his smile. Twisting Andrew’s own words against him was one of Neil’s favorite pasttimes. “I am your nothing.”

When Andrew said nothing, Neil nudged him with his toes. Andrew responded with a bored glance before focusing back on his book. Neil crawled the small space between them and let his head lean against Andrew’s shoulder.

I am you nothing, and you are my everything,” Neil said, knowing Andrew was listening. “You are my team, you are my family, you are my home. And you’re also my boyfriend.”

A hand turned Neil’s face towards Andrew’s, and Andrew’s golden eyes were… steady. Searching. “You,” he said, “are everything.”

And Neil knew it was true. It would always be true.

6

✨ 🌸 mildliner inspired study playlists🌸 ✨

blue pack (cool)

  • mostly instrumental music for improved concentration
  • best for “chill” study sessions i.e. re-reading lessons, rewriting notes, making annotations, flashcards etc
  • of cool breeze floating gently into the room, causing the edges of curtains to flutter. you look up from your notebook and notice how quiet the world is, how clean your desk is. books are neatly stacked in a corner; the vase has fresh daisies in it. you can hear your soft breathing in the silence.
  • everything is so calm, and yet you’re crying.

pink pack (neon)

  • for when you have something due at 7am and it’s already 4am but you’re just 50% done RIP
  • no really why did you procrastinate???!
  • YA SO TIRED BUT YA GOTTA GET THAT A
  • gotta have some power POP instead of power NAP
  • “I swear I will never do this again!!!”

yellow (warm)

  • nothing really matters in life anymore; you’re just numb™
  • but you still have to study because people expect so much of you; you expect so much of you
  • this is sitting in a room feeling tired and lonely, pale sunset light surrounding you. this is thinking you’re too old for your body; that everything good has already happened.
  • this is flipping absentmindedly through textbook pages, re-reading every sentence twice because your mind is elsewhere.
  • and maybe this is about remembering something to live for, even if it’s that one friend, that one tv show

Cleaned it at last ! It’s ruff but this is a sketch page I drew as I was finishing the first book of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials. I had to post it, because re-reading the books was SO great ! I knew I already loved it as a child and would understand it a lot better now, but I didn’t expected to love it that much !!
I took the complete three volumes for my one month internship in this tiny-village-with-nothing, and ended reading all of it in almost one week ! (That’s an awful lot of pages.) I can only recommend the series, and  would totally make a badass animated TV show out of it.

Ps - If you’ve read it, you cannot forget Him. Yeah and that’s tiny Lyra and big Iorek :3

Because some asked why I needed Truthwitch to break out...

Some people have asked me what I meant by a statement in my postmortem – about WHY I needed Truthwitch to break out (because if it didn’t, my career was over). I’m not sure how in-depth I’ve been in my newsletter, so here’s an answer for you:

Basically, my first series tanked. I mean…tanked. We’re talking, Truthwitch sold more copies in its first two weeks than the entire SS&D series COMBINED.

Bad sales hurt an author – you’re way better off as an untested debut than an author with shitty sales. So I was at a crossroads in my career, where the plan was to change my name. That way, I could be a “debut” again. (Sadly, this happens a LOT in the industry. Which is why please do not pirate our books!)

But then Tor decided to take a chance on me. Because they’re a small (and amazing) house, they have more room to take on projects that they’re passionate about (instead of just commercially successful). HOWEVER, if Truthwitch didn’t sell well…. Then yeah. That was it. “Susan Dennard” would be dead, and I’d have to reinvent/start over my career.

There’s no shame in that. I was totally willing to reinvent! The problem was that I had this great audience for my writing advice – thousands upon thousands of people who were coming back for my blog and newsletter. Yet none of them were buying my books. Which is fine – I don’t give free writing help to sell copies. I do it because I love doing it.

BUT…if I reinvented myself, I would lose what little crossover I had between writing-advice-fans and book-readers – not to mention the handful of amazing fans who did like the SS&D trilogy (I will never ever forget my wonderful Misfits!).

So…I needed + desperately wanted Truthwitch to sell well. I wanted Tor to be happy. I wanted to keep my name. That led to me going “all in” on self-promo.

Full disclosure: I allocated $15,000 of my advance to promote Truthwitch. (Which, in case you’re wondering, was most of the advance.) I ended up going over that amount…by a lot. Costs ranged from travel to important events (this was really where the bulk got eaten up!) to running/maintaining my street team (swag, postage, hiring an assistant to help me keep it going) to learning how to + making my own book trailer.***

And like…I honestly don’t even know what kind of TIME I spent promoting. It was a lot more than I thought it would be. Literally most of 2015.

But…it paid off, right? At least in terms of “success.” I’m a New York Times Bestseller now!!

That said, I haven’t earned back the money I spent yet (“bestseller” doesn’t automatically mean “rich”), and I will never get back the time I spent. Plus, the nightmare that was 2016 as I tried to rush-create Windwitch

It begs the question: were the costs worth the rewards? I don’t know. I think so since, hopefully, the rewards will continue to pay forward for a long time – and my career is definitely growing!

Best of all, though, I CAN KEEP MY NAME. Susan Dennard. C’est moi pour toujours. ❤️

Edit:

I want to add two more things – because this post has opened up a lot of conversations I wasn’t expecting to have (but welcome!!).

First: I cannot emphasize enough just how important LUCK is in this equation. On top of the time, money, publisher-partnership, and salty desperation that I poured into Truthwitch, I ALSO GOT LUCKY. I had the Right Book at the Right Moment with the Right Cover in the Right Genre coming out in the Right Month.

A publisher can pour all the money in the world into a book, but nothing will make readers buy it. There is no predicting trends.

So a lot of the success of Truthwitch (which is still pretty small, relatively speaking. I’m not a Big Author by any means!!) boils down to that intangible, finicky sprite known as Lady Luck.

Second: This is just ROUND ONE of “reinvention.” I have no illusions or expectations that my success will remain. The Witchlands series has already exceeded my wildest hopes, but no author stays “on top” forever. It’s a constant up and down, and frankly, we’re all just really lucky to even be able to share our words in the first place.

Sure, I’d love to be successful forever, but it’s not my primary dream – and definitely not my expectation. Realism is key to longevity in this industry, and more than that: gratitude.

So on that note: thanks for reading, thanks for sharing, and thanks for being the reason I keep writing.


***Note: I need to also mention that, once it was clear my own self-promotion was starting to pick up momentum, Tor really stepped in and helped me. This was not a solo journey, and it NEVER is. I had/have an amazing team, and we’ve forged a real partnership while getting the Witchlands into readers’ hands.

3

Title: Arguments & Ice Cream

Summary
Tom and Y/N are arguing a lot since he doesn’t have enough time for her. Therfore she spends more and more time with Harrison, much to Tom’s dislike.

Words: ~ 1800

Mentions of Sex

×××

I sat on the couch zapping through the channels and letting out a sigh. Grabbing the TV paper, I let myself fall back against the backrest before checking the program. “Tom?”, I called out for my boyfriend but I got no response. “Tom, which movie do you want to watch tonight?”

Still getting no response, I stood up and entered our bedroom. “Tom, where are you?”, my voice was loud, probably loud enough for our neighbours to hear.
“I’m here, darling!”, I heard his voice and turned around, heading for the bathroom. His head popped out of the door frame, his eyes curiously looking at me.

“What’s the matter?”, he wanted to know before I entered the bathroom. And then came the moment I realised he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
There was a moment of silence and a grin on his face while my eyes swiftly gazed over his abs-covered abdomen and I leaned against the door frame.
“Um, I just… eh, I wanted to know which movie we’re going to watch tonight?”, I asked him before my eyes nervously met his. I hated it when I got flustered around him. It’s just that I didn’t expect him to be shirtless!

“I told you I can’t tonight.”, the brunet boy sighed, the smile vanishing from his face.
“What? But it’s movie night…”, I pouted, knowing that he couldn’t resist my puppy face. “I know, I know…”, he breathed, his gaze going to the ground.
“And you didn’t tell me.”, I grumbled before I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Yes, I did! I got this thing tonight. It’s nothing big but…”, he began before I finished his sentence with an annoyed tone in my voice, “more important than movie night. I get it.”

I lightly pushed myself from the door frame, ready to think about another lonely evening but Tom stood in front of me, grabbing my wrists and placing my hands on his sides before wrapping his arms around me.
The look in his brown eyes was as soft as his hot skin and a few strands fell on his forehead before he spoke up, “I’m gonna take a shower. And I think you should join me.”
An annoyed scoff escaped my lips before his lips collided with mine in a passionate kiss which I couldn’t help but return. I was mad at him! But resisting him was simply impossible…
His lips quickly wandered to my neck, sucking on the sensitive skin and my face blushed while my body slowly melted into his form.
“It has been weeks…”, he whispered softly, his lips brushing over my ear while his hands caressed my hips. Yeah, somehow we didn’t have a lot of time for that since he’d been busy all the time.

With his teeth grazing over my skin and his hips pressed against mine it was incredibly hard not to moan but I managed to push him away from me slowly, my body instantly aching for his touch. “Tom, you should get ready for your thing.”, I mumbled, noticing disappointment in his eyes.
“Did you just air quote me?”, he scoffed after he completely let go of me, his eyebrows narrowing. “Yeah, I did.”, I shrugged before I headed towards the bedroom. “Whatever…”, I heard him say under his breath, making my mood fall even more.

Laying down on my side of the bed and grabbing the book I was currently reading, I let out I sigh I didn’t know I was holding.
I only heard that Tom was showering but decided to ignore the guilty feeling inside my chest. It wasn’t his fault that he was away so much… but I was so mad in that moment.
Quickly getting lost in the lines of my book, time went by pretty fast and soon my half naked boyfriend entered the room without looking at me and stood in front of the closet.

I glanced over my book, our eyes meeting through the mirror and I quickly turned my attention back to my pages.
But I had to look again, watching his shoulder blades getting covered by a white shirt and his legs by dark pants before he put on a matching jacket. Watching him putting on clothes was at least as entertaining as watching him taking them off.

He hesitated when he wanted to choose a tie, which was always my thing to do. Suddenly he stood in front of the mirror wrapping his tie around his neck and pretty soon I realised that it was my favourite, black tie with the light stripes.
Our eyes met again and I looked at my book again, acting as if nothing had happened.

The tension between us was raising with every second that passed.
“Do you expect me to stay or why are you giving me the silent treatment?”, he suddenly said, turning around to face me.
“I just can’t believe you leave me again. It’s movie night!”, I exclaimed, smashing my book on the nightstand before standing up, “And it’s not the first time you do this. I’m just pissed off that I’m always looking forward to be with you and then you ditch me.”
“I’m not ditching you!”, he objected, his fingers running through his hair, “They want me to be there, so I am there. Y/N, it’s my job. That’s what I do!”
“Yeah, but you just told me that you can’t tonight. You could’ve told me a couple of days ago!”, I grumbled, crossing my arms in front my chest.

“I told you on Wednesday!”
“No, you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did!”
“NO, YOU DIDN’T!”

A frustrated groan escaped his lips before he turned around and left our bedroom. I followed him, ready to continue our argument but he went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I let myself fall onto the couch, taking a deep breath. We had been arguing a lot lately. And I just wanted things to be easy again…

I was too busy staring at the plant next to the TV that I didn’t notice Tom approaching me from behind. “I’m going to go, now.”, he stated before touching my shoulder lightly.
And it hurt. Not physically but mentally… knowing that he was leaving me again.
“Yeah, have fun without me.”, I mumbled without even looking at him. I heard him sigh. Then he mumbled something under his breath. Then the front door slammed into the frame.

He was gone.
Curling myself into a fetus position, I pulled a blanket over me. The following thirty minutes were filled with self loathing thoughts and there might have been a few tears.

But after I had calmed myself down, I grabbed my phone and called Harrison.

“Hey, Y/N! What’s up?”, he greeted me happily, immediately answering his phone.
“Hey, Haz… Can you come over?”, I ask, a quiet sniff being audible.
“Yeah, sure! Are you… okay?”, he wanted to know and I shrugged before I realised that he couldn’t see me.
“I’m… it’s just… Tom ditched movie night.”, I replied sadly.
“Again?!”, he mumbled, probably shaking his head.
“Yes, again…He said he had, I quote, a thing tonight… and now I’m bored.”, I explained quietly.
“Okay, I’m on my way.”, he responded and hung up quickly.

Too many minutes later the door bell finally rang and I literally sprinted towards the door but opened it relatively slowly.
“Finally!”, I exclaimed after I saw Harrison smiling at me. “I bought ice cream since you sounded like you could need it.”, he laughed, holding up two cups of Ben & Jerry’s.

“You’re the best!”, I grinned, pulling him into the flat before rushing off into the kitchen to get spoons.
After I went back to the living room I saw that Harrison had placed the cups on the table. “So you wanna talk about it?”, he asked carefully, his eyes looking at me softly.
“No, let’s just watch a movie.”

But half an hour into the movie later, Harrison paused it after I had started telling him about what had happened today. I couldn’t keep all this in. I literally exploded, rambling and rambling.

“And then I said ‘Have fun without me’ and he just left! I mean, why?”, I sighed, taking another spoon of my ice cream, “It’s just… he always hugs me and kisses my cheek before he leaves.”
With my feet laying on his tighs, he drawed circles with his thumb on my shank while I mentally thanked myself for shaving my legs this morning.

Harrison looked at me, sympathy in his eyes and took a deep before he spoke up, “But you have to see it from his perspective, too, you know. You were mad at him… of course he didn’t hug and kiss you. He probably thought that you just wanted him to leave.”
“Yeah, you’re right…”, I mumbled, pinching the bridge of my nose, “I’m a horrible girlfriend.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that! You’ve been dating for three years now and Tom’s still talking about how perfect you are.”, he claimed, his head tilting towards his shoulder while he looked at me.

I smiled to myself briefly, thinking about Tom saying those words to Harrison. “Yeah, but I’m so selfish and always whiny…”, I drifted off, watching my fingers playing with the hem of my shirt, “And we’ve been arguing a lot lately. Usually we only have these slight variances. And now…”, I sighed deeply before I looked at Harrison again, whose head rested lazily against the pillow tugged between his head and the backrest, listening attentively.
After a few moments of silence I realised that he didn’t know what to say, so I continued, “And we haven’t had sex for 5 weeks now. That’s like… a new record or something.”

Harrison laughed loudly, shaking his head slightly at my open statement.
“But I thought he wanted you to join him in the shower today?”, his eyebrows narrowed while a cheeky smile was on his face and I only shrugged.

“Yeah, but the times before he was either too tired or something. I’m probably so bad…”, I mumbled quietly, lowering my head before a question popped up in my mind and I looked at Harrison with raised eyebrows. “Did he say anything to you?”

Harrison shifted uncomfortably on his seat, stumbling over some incomprehensible words.

×××

Part 2

》《 Masterlist 》《

×××

All Posts:
@imnothavingkids

Tom Holland Taglist:
@kint-sugi @bringmetomnow

I know they’re just fictional characters, it’s been 78 years and this is not good for my blood pressure, but it physically pains me when people take the best scenes of Sasuke caring as proof of how much he doesn’t care.

Sasuke can’t word. Like, at all. He’s absolutely terrible at stuff like giving verbal reassurance or even at explaining himself clearly. He’s your go-to guy if you have a meteorite problem or an alien problem or… some other highly unlikely problem like that, but to assume that he possesses the basic skills necessary to send an obligatory ‘get well soon’ card to someone without accidentally insulting the person’s intelligence and ancestors in the process would be a mistake.

To make things even more hilarious (or sad depending on the context) it’s not even a tsundere thing. He doesn’t say the opposite of what he means, he says exactly what he means but in such a succinct and blunt fashion it leaves people feeling like he’s being purposefully vague or just straight up rude. This is because Sasuke can not only not word but he also can’t people, so he’s the type who will assume that his partner in conversation will just get what he means if he gives them a nudge – or a hn, I suppose – in the right direction. A prime example of this would be every time he called Sakura “annoying” when what he really meant was, “I already decided to leave you and everyone else I care about behind so could you maybe stop actively reminding me of how incredibly difficult that was,” as well as this glorious mess right here:

What Sakura thinks Sasuke just said: My life is none of your business.

What Sasuke thinks Sasuke just said: It’s my road to redemption. You have nothing to do with my sins. [It doesn’t matter whether or not I want you with me because this isn’t your cross to bear. I can’t expect you to leave your family and friends behind and put your career on hold in favor of wandering around the continent with me while I sort out the mess that is my life. You have a life of your own and while I’m grateful for your offer, I care about you too much to take you up on it.] *forehead poke*

Keep reading

Random Assorted Starters
  1. “Well, don’t expect us to be too impressed. We just saw <insert person> in his underwear.” 
  2. “Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight.” 
  3. “The planet is fine. The people are fucked.”
  4. “Accept who you are. Unless you’re a serial killer.”
  5. “I did not attend his funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.”
  6. “It’s not true that I had nothing on. I had the radio on.”
  7. “When life gives you lemons, squirt someone in the eye.” 
  8. “If a book about failures doesn’t sell, is it a success?”
  9. “That’s why they call it the American Dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.”
  10. “Don’t be so humble - you are not that great.”
  11. “I thought I’d lie on the floor and writhe in pain for a while, it relaxes me.“
  12. “A word to the wise ain’t necessary, it’s the stupid ones who need advice.”
  13. “I don’t hate you.. I just don’t like that you exist”
  14. “Never miss a good chance to shut up.”
  15. “Don’t put your wand there, boy! … Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!”
  16. “Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?”
  17. “What makes big boobs and perkiness so attractive to boys? I mean, really. Two round, mounds of fat and a fake smile. Yeah, winning attributes.” 
  18. “Don’t gobblefunk around with words.”
  19. “I live in my own little world. But its ok, they know me here.”
  20. “You are the shuckiest shuck faced shuck in the world!”
  21. “You should eat a waffle! You can’t be sad if you eat a waffle!”
  22. “Hooray! Hooray! The end of the world has been postponed! ”
  23. “Remind me, to never piss you off again. Christ, are you secretly a ninja?”
  24. “I can’t decide whether I’m a good girl wrapped up in a bad girl, or if I’m a bad girl wrapped up in a good girl. And that’s how I know I’m a woman!”
  25. “If there were an international butt competition, <insert person> would win, hands down—or cheeks up.”
  26. “If at first you don’t succeed then skydiving definitely isn’t for you.”
  27. “I felt like an animal, and animals don’t know sin, do they?”
  28. “How is it possible to have a civil war?” 
  29. “Other crack teams get bat boomerangs and wall-climbing powers; we get Aquatruck.”
  30. “When life gives you lemons, chunk it right back.”
  31. “What about a compromise? I’ll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I’ll apologize.”
  32. “Whoa, who peed in your Cheerios?”
  33. “I’ve had great success being a total idiot. ”
  34. “This shit is easy peasy, pumpkin peasy, pumpkin pie, muthafucka!”
  35. “Telling an introvert to go to a party is like telling a saint to go to Hell.”
  36. “I’m bad and I’m going to hell, and I don’t care. I’d rather be in hell than anywhere where you are. ”
  37. “I was feeling the height of bitchiness.”
  38. “My head’ll explode if I continue with this escapism.”
  39. “I’m placing you under arrest for murder, conspiracy to commit murder and, I don’t know, possibly littering.”
  40. “If you’re trapped in the dream of the Other, you’re fucked.”
  41. “If you can’t do anything about it, laugh like hell.”
  42. “There are times when it is appropriate, even preferable, to get an erection when someone’s face is in close proximity to your penis. This was not one of those times.”
  43. “My shoulder will never be the same. I expect you to nurse me back to health.”
  44. “Well, someone slap my butt and give me a hero cookie.”
  45. “Do things that make you happy within the confines of the legal system.”
  46. “To answer your question, you want me because I’m made of awesome.”
  47. “Vampires. They wrote the book on possessive.”
  48. “I have to return some videotapes”
  49. “I’m not the smartest fellow in the world, but I can sure pick smart colleagues.”
  50. “Of course you know, this means war.”
  51. “What I actually want to call you is a hell of a lot more unprintable than your name” 
  52. “’Can the sarcasm?’ Please, I always use fresh sarcasm, never canned.”
  53. “Nothing is funnier than unhappiness.”
  54. “You know you have ADD when Look A chicken - T-shirt” 
  55. “If you die in an elevator, be sure to push the up button.”
  56. “How very wet this water is.”
  57. “My goal in life is to have a psychiatric disorder named after me.”
  58. “If I looked like him, I’d want to have sex with myself. All the time.”
  59. “All I know is just what I read in the papers, and that’s an alibi for my ignorance.”
  60. “Hey, <insert name>. <insert nickname>. Fire! Flood! Earthquake! Revolution! Godzilla’s on the loose! Get up!”
Imagine : Being Hope Mikaelson’s Twin and Kol blames the Family for constantly ignoring you (part 2)

I am sorry for not having this sooner please forgive me senpai 

Originally posted by beverlyslaurel




Young! Reader x Father ! Klaus

Young! Reader x Uncle!Kol




It had been a week since the incident with the Kidnapping . So far every one is slightly shaken up that something like that can happen to their dear hope. Or well every one would if Kol would forget about the person who was actually tortured like everyone else did to  Y/N .


She hadn’t really spoken much since the incident . But her screams in the night , showed her true emotions .


But it seemed like tonight was not one of those nights thankfully. Kol didn’t know how much longer he could stay calm , her leg was healing nicely.  Well nicely enough when your ankle is fraktured


The originals tried to give her blood but every time she would pretend to drink it or just not enough to heal her completly.



But she was healing as her family tended to Hope’s crying. Kol watches at (y/n( , whom gasps as her sister nearly falls on the steps but doesn’t move from her seat . “Hello darling How are you ,” he says walking up to her. “I am fine uncle Kol , how are you ?” He could tell she was trying to be happy but her smile didn’t reach her eyes or heart.



“Come on love you can’t be sad forever . I am sure your parents were al–”


“Already taking care of Hope and tending her needs . Its fine Uncle Kol , they were just to busy doing other things . they couldn’t focus on me and Hope. I am just glad You we’re there for me when I needed you ” she then gave Kol a hug making him smile for the little girls sake , but he knew deep down its was going to take more than a hug to comfort the young child . 


“ hey get dressed Aunty Davina wanted to give you a check up ” he says, making a smile whip onto the small girls face as she goes to prepare with her  crutches in hand to support her body.

“So do you intend to steal away my daughter every time something happens to her ,” scowled Klaus.


“I told you already Niklaus . it isn’t stealing if she want to Come with me . It’s not like.your trying to.do you job when it comes to taking care.  Of her .” kol says. “I am taking her to the cauldron to see Davina wanted to check on her leg . ” he continues.


“Do you intend to take her to some outsider , when Freya is hear with more magic and  knowledge,” he says, as his anger rises.“Thou Davina isn’t as powerful Freya. She is more around and loving to her” 

  ” Is that so brother then tell me who is the person that helps wrap (Y/n( bandages when  Hayley isn’t around , or when Y/n needs help reaching her courtches.“


"Y/n wouldn’t even need crouthes if you even batted an eye at the girl. You fear they will both push you away when they grow up. But they have nothing to push away if you don’t care for the both of them ,” Kol says walking up to Klaus . Both of them were so angry they didn’t notice that Y/n walking into the room.


“ If its such a problem that I go out with Uncle Kol then I won’t go. No need to fight over anyone . ” she said then makes her way back to her room leaving the two grown men alone .

_______________________________________________________________________


“Oh its you,” she said walking into the room . “Must be  horrible being a human . You know only to live ,survive only to be killed ” she says.

“What do you want Hope” Y/n says holding on to her sketch book. “What can’t I just come and check on my twin” she Scowls at the word . 


“I mean after all I need to be a bigger person here,"she pushes off Y/n’s crutches from the bed and snatches her sketch book from  her .

"Hey what the fuck,” Y/n said as Hope sits down and Klaus comes to the room.  Klaus gasps at Y/n words.

“So you expect to go out with Kol ,with that kind of language ,” he yells walking up the the human child as tears brim Hope’s eyes .


 "You and I are going to talk about this ,“ he said walking away with the fake crying Hope from the room . Y/n glares at her twins walking form and sighs knowing that they won’t believe her story .


Y/n POV


I take a deep breath trying to calm my nerves but nothing is working.  "Little brat” I say noticing that my sketches were all torn out .  I place the now empty sketch book on the bed side table . 


I was about to try and pick up my crutches when Uncle Elijah and Klaus walks into the room and locks the  door.  "Y/n please tell me what your father heard you say isn’t true ?“  Uncle Elijah asks. 


Uncle Elijah was always there for me when Uncle Kol wasn’t around or in this families case awake or alive. I could tell he wanted to give me the benefit of the doubt but he knew I would be lying to him .



"Hello Y/n I believe your Uncle asked you ”


“Yes Uncle Elijah I did curse at Hope ,” I said cutting off ‘my father ’ if I can even call him that . He is more like the sperm donor who didn’t leave the baby mama.  Yeah that’s it.


“And what was this reason you attacked your sister,”

“Its not an attack all I said was 'what the fuck’ is exactly like say ’ what the heck’,” I say staring dead at them.


“Are you sure that is all you said ,” said Klaus



“Are you sure you have sensitive hearing cause you sure don’t act like it ,” I cross my arms , making Klaus huff in anger . “Y/n you are not allowed to go read or practice magic . When you go to school . You go and come right back . Nor are you allowed to meet Davina at all or go to Marcellus ,”

I felt like my was heart being stabbed repeatedly . “ wha- are – Fine ,” I say knowing that arguing with the two of them is useless. Everything I loved to do and take it.  


Yet if it was Hope they would let her off with a warning . I release a sigh as they walk out the room with not another word . Yes I know what I did was wrong –


My thoughts were interupted when I notice Uncle Kol walk into the room . “Hi Uncle Coco ,” I say as he picks up my crutches from the ground and leans them on my bed side tables. “I heard what happened ,”

“Not like you wouldn’t someone would off told you eventually,” I say , my sounded sad and defeated but its not like my voice should be for from it cause of everything .


“It wasn’t such a nice thing you said to Hope . ” he sits down onto my bed . I look down to my F/c bed sheets   . “If you heard what she said you would think what I said would be angelic ,” I say leaning on my head board .

“And what would that be darling ,”


“She said my purpose in life is to grow only to killed only to be killed .”  the feeling of wanting to cry engulfed me . My own sister wanted me dead . and doesn’t even think off me as a person. 


“My sisters thinks I am made to die . Maybe those people who has kidnapped me should of killed me , or better yet  ” I didn’t notice tears were coming out my eyes until Uncle Kol pulled me into his arms. Thou I am with him I feel alone .


 * Maybe I should kill me self* I thought as he rubs my back. *But  I can let Uncle Kol know my plan * I thought hugging him back. “ Are you OK little bird ” he said putting his chin on my head. I wipe my tears and snuggle into his chest . “Yeah I am fine ” I said knowing I won’t be able to bother anyone any more .

Imagine Being The Only One To Make Dark Genuinely Smile.

Originally posted by clairinwonderland

(S/N):

  • slight cursing
  • that’s all I believe, enjoy!

~

Dark sat on the couch, one leg over the other, and a book in both hands. He delicately turned a page, then continued to straighten his tie. Typically aware of everything that went on around him, his focus was in stead deep with in the inked words reflecting from his sharp eyes. So buried in the world of flowing letters and imagination, he didn’t notice a pair of eyes watching him from the kitchen. Wilford Warfstache crinkled his nose, with squinted eyes and huffed.

“Look at him. He’s always so grouchy looking. Even when doing something as simple as reading.”, he criticized the darker ego.

Bing closed the fridge behind him, walking over and opening a can of soda.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile dude. So not cool.”, he took a swing.

“It ain’t good bruh, causes total stress!”, Bing said putting the drink down and pointing at Wilford.

Wilford sat against the island, twisting and twirling the ends of his mustache in thought. He was trying to think of ways to get the dangerous entity to smile. Partially because he had never seen him do so, mostly just smirks or dark grins. Honestly though, Wilford mostly just wanted to mess with him. While it would be interesting to see Dark’s lips turn up in a non menacing way, he also really liked to annoy him. Hmm, but how would he go about this without getting his head severed? A loud belch beside him made him grimace, and Wilford turned to see Bing.

“That was like…a ten bruh.”, Bing smiled, waving a hang lose sign.

Wilford smirked an idea coming to mind.

“Heya Bing~”, Warfstache slurred, turning in his seat.

Bing finished taking another sip of his drink, completely dense of the other ego’s underlining tone. “Suh dude?!”

“You like challenges right?”

“Ah dude! I freakin love challenges! Bottle flip challenge, maniquin challenge, don’t laugh challenge, food challenges-”

“Alright, alright I get it!”, Wilford cut him off, a bit annoyed with Bing. “How about this~”

Bing watched with interest as Wilford stood up, walking over and wiggling his finger before pointing into his chest. “How about a challenge to see who can get darky over there to crack a smile? A genuine one~!”

Bing thought for a second, his brows furrowing,“ Mmmm, I don’t know bout that bruh…”

A lot of things may have gone over the AI’s head, but even he was smart enough to know that Dark was a force to be reckoned with. He had lived with Google for a while before moving in with you, Wilford, and Dark. And even though him and Google may have not gotten along exactly, even his former roommate warned him of the dark entity sitting in the living room.

“Oh what’s the worry~?”, Wilford slurred, turning and wrapping an arm around the others shoulders.

“Too scared to take up a challenge Bing?”, Wilford grinned glancing up from under his lashes.

“What?! No way bruh!! Challenges are like, my thing!!”, Bing snapped stepping away offended.

“Great!”, Wilford clapped,“ Then you’ll have no problem with going first!”

“Wait, what?”

Bing didn’t have a moment to protest as Wilford shoved him forward to the kitchen entrance harshly. He glanced back at Wilford, who smiled and waved. Bing considered backing out, but his boldness stopped him. There was no way he’d back out of a challenge! He was Bing, and he was going to show that suspender wearing ego and every other ego that he was totally cool and could do anything.

Wilford watched with an amused smile as Bing made his way into the leaving room, skateboard by his side and striding up to Dark. Before he could see Bing utter a word to the other, his attention was drawn away when you had come into the house.

“Hey, what’s up?”, you greeted with a soft smile, laying down your bag on the counter.

You knew something was up as soon as you walked in and saw the shit eating grin on Wilford’s face. The two of you along with Dark had been living together for a long while now, and had become quite familiar with each other’s habits. You especially knew when Wilford was up to something, and it didn’t usually end well.

“Trying to get darkness over there to give us a good ol smile~”, he replied scooting next to you.

Looking over into the living room, you saw Bing, your newest roommate, speaking to Dark. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but what ever it was it had made the dark entity mad. Dark had stood up abruptly and grabbed hold of Bings shirt, catching the other completely off guard. You couldn’t hear what Dark was saying in this moment either, but what ever it was it made Bing look like he was about to piss himself. Letting go of the terrified ego, Dark sat back down and continued to read, as though nothing had happened, and Bing shakily made his way back over to you and Wilford.

“What’d he say to you?”, you asked concerned for your newest roommate.

Bing’s voice slightly trembled as he looked up at you,“I’d rather not r-repeat it.”

You frowned and glanced over at Wilford as he chuckled amused,“And what’d you say to make him want to cut your throat? I’ve never seen him get mad that quickly.”

Bing glanced at you and quickly looked away when you made eye contact,“ I-I’d rather not repeat that either bruh, for like…the safety of my life and stuff ya know?!”

Wilford smirked and brushed his mustache,“ I suppose I win then~!”

“What?! Not uh!!”, Bing snapped back to his usual self.

“What do you mean ‘not uh’? Of course I did! You lost, your disqualified, there for I win!”

“Mmmm actually~”, you cooed beside them.

Both boys turned towards you, seeing the delicate smirk upon your face. “You don’t win Wilford. There’s still one person other then you who hasn’t tried.”

“Oh, and who would that be doll~?”, he slurred with a raised brow, leaning on his elbow close to you.

“Me~”, you winked.

“…you can’t be serious.”, both ego’s said at once.

“Of course I’m serious!”, you grinned.

“Sorry to say it bruh, but Dark is colder then well…uh, cool?”, Bing tried scratching his cheek.

“I hate to agree with the five here, but he’s right (y,n). You’ll only have your feelings crushed by that manipulative ass hat.”, Wilford confirmed, twirling the ends of his stache.

You scoffed,“If I make him smile, you both owe me ice cream.”

“Fine, but it’s your death bed.”, Wilford said raising his hands.

“Good luck, bruh! You’ll need it.”, Bing wished you off as you strode confidentially into the living room.

Dark sighed softly, leaving a bookmark in the second to last chapter of his book before closing it. Cracking his neck, he felt satisfied at the sounds of popping joints.

“Hey Dark~”

Said man looked up, his eyes narrowed expecting to see Wilford, but slightly calmed when he saw it was you.

“Yes? What is it?”, he asked coldly.

You smiled and sat down beside him.

“Oh nothing~”

“Bullshit.”

“What? I can’t just hang out with my roommate?”

Dark narrowed his eyes skeptically,“ I know you (y,n). Now what do you want?”

You sighed, giving up your facade and sprawling down over his lap. You felt him stiffen some, but he didn’t make any notion of pushing you off.

“Okay, so maybe I do want something.”

“And what would that be?”, he asked with his usual, unamused expression.

“Well um…”, your eyes flicked around the ceiling, refusing to look at his face.

Dark watched you with a blank stare, his body relaxing some and becoming used to the warmth that you provided. Biting the bottom of your lip, you finally looked up at him. He raised a brow wondering what was bothering you so much to make you fidgety. Waving your hand down, you motioned for him to come closer. Again he raised his brow, but leaned in none the less. Lifting up a little, you cupped your hands by your mouth and whispered into his ear.

Meanwhile, Wilford and Bing sat on the edge of their seats in the kitchen, trying their hardest to hear what was being said. They were honestly shocked that Dark had even let you lay on him like that. To say the least, both boys were pouting slightly because of it.

Finishing what you had to say, you leaned your head back down in Dark’s lap, looking up at him with a tiny smile. Dark was still leaned forward, processing what you had just told him. Glancing down at you, his dark eyes met your (e,c) ones, and in that moment, he lost it. He threw his head back and a noise strange to the ears of the other two ego’s filled the house.

Dark was…laughing!

Not that sadistic, physcotic cackle that had been deemed his only form of showing any hint of closeness to feeling joy. No, he was laughing purely. It was deep and wholesome, completely foreign to Wilford Warfstache and Bing. Their mouths hung open, eyes wide as Dark’s laugh calmed and he wiped away a stray tear. You smiled below him, teeth showing and eyes crinkled at the edges.

“Well?”, you giggled.

Dark breathed in a soft laugh,“You’re utterly redicioulus, that’s all I have to say.”

“But you laughed~”, you pointed out endearingly.

Dark chuckled shaking his head slightly and…was that…a smile? Indeed it was. A genuine, heart felt smile spread across Darkiplier himself.

~xXx~

(A/N: what is this?! A darkiplier imagine?! Why yes, I do think its is! -3-/ )

So, You Wanna Talk to Other Bloggers

A Guide

We all have those bloggers or mutuals we adore, and we’d love to reach out and plant the seeds of a bomb-diggity friendship, but then the anxiety sets in… I’m not interesting! I’ll just be a bother! I’m sure they have better things to do! I feel you, trust me, I think most of us feel shy, awkward, or anxious trying to make friends or join in on conversations (welcome to tumblr, home of anxiety-ridden everyone). BUT NO LONGER SHALL WE KEEP TO OURSELVES, MY BRETHREN. Really, though, booklr needs to rise and the number one way to do that is through conversation, comments, and reaching out to make friends. 

Here are some tips for overcoming that pesky social anxiety!

  • Bloggers are just people! I don’t care how many thousands of followers they have, bloggers are all just people. I have a higher follower count, but I’m really just trying to manage adulthood without crying, like the majority of us. Whether they’re a super popular blogger or new on the scene, all of us are just people trying to live life, which really makes us all equal. We’re all on the same team so it’s okay to talk and reach out to one another <3
  • Bloggers love hearing from others! I think most of us wouldn’t be here if we didn’t want to talk to anyone. I’m sure there’s a few of us who aren’t too concerned with being social, but numerous bloggers love seeing comments, getting messages, or having people join conversations. This is social media, meaning being social is expected and conversing is welcome! Nothing makes me more excited than hearing from others! I used to have a lot of interaction on this blog and I miss the community feel. I know I’m not alone. Don’t you want to hear from others too? We’re all ready to talk but one of us has to make the first step.
  • Public platform. You’re watching a post as two bloggers discuss a book you love. You want to add something but… would that be butting in? NO. It’s not butting in. Blogging is public, all of this is out in the open. If people wanted others not to contribute, they’d have the conversation private on messenger! These conversations are out there, on your dash, and we’d love to hear what you’d add to the conversation!
  • You are not annoying. Really, friend, this goes with “all of us are people”. You think you’re annoying? I think I’m annoying. We’re all our own harshest critics. Chances are if you send me a message, I’ll be too busy trying not to seem super lame while thinking you must wish you never instigated this conversation. Take a deep breath, remember your perceptions of yourself are often too critical and send that message or post that comment!
  • Everyone is busy. Have you ever sent off a message and after a day or two of no response, you begin to deconstruct your message, noticing how ridiculous you are? No wonder they didn’t respond! I’m an idiot! Nope, nope, nope, you are not. We all have lives and sometimes that keeps us from responding right away. Don’t panic after reaching out and thinking you said the wrong thing. Nine times out of ten, people are just busy and haven’t got around to responding. 

Okay, you think, I’ll try joining conversations or adding comments. But what if I want to shoot a message to someone but don’t know what to say!? Breaking the ice can be painful and if you’re not sure what to say, it can be a major roadblock to talking to someone. Here are some ideas:

  • Talk about something the blogger recently posted! If a blogger just posted a photo/review/discussion/etc you really liked, it’s a great way to segue into friendship! Send them a message with your thoughts and build from there!
  • Compliments! Everyone loves compliments! Is there something about this person you really like? Are they super nice? Do they take excellent photos? Do you rely on their book recommendations? Tell them! Telling someone you admire something they do are something about them is a great way to introduce yourself!
  • Talk about books! THIS IS BOOKLR. We’re all obsessed and armpit deep in books we want to read and obsess over. Ask about their favorite book! Give them a recommendation! Talk about that new movie adaptation! Books are an easy start because we all love ‘em! So use that love to help you make friends!
  • Be honest! I’m usually pretty frank with my messages. I’ll send someone an “I think you’re really cool and would love to be friends!” message and move from there. I now have several incredible friendships I’m immensely grateful for. It may seem awkward or blunt, but sometimes it’s easy just to be up front.

And remember, sometimes you just won’t click with people. Sometimes you’ll reach out to someone, the conversation fizzles and you don’t talk again. THAT’S OKAY! We’re all different and we’re all not going to become inseparable friends. If your attempt to reach out or talk doesn’t go anywhere, remember that it’s not you. And don’t let it stop you from trying again! Maybe the next conversation you join will introduce you to a lifelong pal! <3

-Dakota

Two Nights Stand Part 3

Summary: (Modern Au) After a bad breakup, your roommate insists that you need to a one night stand to end your dry spell. Following her advice, you have a bad one night stand with Bucky Barnes, but what happened when you are forced to spend time with him?

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1500

Warnings: This is vaguely inspired by a movie of the same name. In the future, the series will be having smut so be warned.

A/n: Thanks to @drinkfantasy for being my beta.

Part 1 Part 2

Credits to the gifs owners

Awkward silence, the room is full of awkward silence and the smell of French toast. The worst part is that you don’t know what you both can talk about, the only ice breaker you can think of is the weather and you don’t think Bucky would appreciate your puns.

“We need to talk if we are going to be stuck in here for the next 24 hours.” He says taking you away from your thoughts, you take a bite of your French toast and you have to admit this is the best french toast that you’ve ever eaten. “I agree, but no upsetting questions.”

“What is an upsetting question? Because most of the things can be upsetting if we stop to think about it.” You shrug “I don’t know, who taught you how to cook?” He takes a sip of his orange juice smiling back at you. “My mother and grandmother. When I was a kid I would spend a lot of time with them in the kitchen.”

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8

“The Force Awakens: Rey’s Story” (pub. Feb 2016) 

This book is written entirely in Rey’s POV so there are no scenes of Finn saving Poe or anything, but I do like that this gives us more room for Rey’s thoughts and feelings. 

What’s neat is that there are passages here that are not present in either the adult novelization or the junior novel, like when Maz questions Rey further about her family after her force vision. Strangely, this book is missing the mysterious “I’ll come back, sweetheart. I promise.” line that’s in the other adaptations

Some highlights:

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anonymous asked:

Hi could you please write an 8th year drarry trope where they're forced to work together and end up really liking each other? :))

THANKS FOR 4K HERE’S SOME FLUFF


“Now everyone, listen here while I tell you what your project will be about.” Said Slughorn. Harry wasn’t really paying attention, he just hoped that Hermione would explain the whole thing to him later. He was thinking, as he usually was these days, about the war and of all the people that should be sat around him, but weren’t. If only he had destroyed the horcruxes earlier, or if he had told the people in the Order about their mission Voldemort would’ve been dead much sooner. His trance was broken when the chair next to him scraped on the floor. He looked up to see the tall figure of Draco Malfoy place himself in it.

“So, I say we-” He started before he saw Harry’s confused face staring at him. Malfoy sighed and rolled his eyes. “You weren’t listening, were you?” Harry shook his head. “Well, Potter, if you had been paying attention you would’ve known that we got partnered up for the project.”

Harry groaned and thumped his head on the desk. “No.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled about this either,” Harry heard a little moroseness in his voice. “But we both have to deal with this, okay? I say we put our little petty school rivalry in the past. Deal?” Malfoy held out his hand.

Harry took it hesitantly. “Fine.”

“Alright then. We’ll meet in the library at six.” Malfoy stated. He then grabbed his bag and strutted out the door.

Harry left the common room at ten to six. He walked into the library with five minutes to spare, only to find Malfoy already sitting at a table in the back with papers and books scattered all over. “I never expected you to be so messy, Malfoy.” He teased as he sat down across from him.

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Missed Connection (Bucky x Reader)

Requested by: @swtltlmrvlgrl
Summary: Can you do a ‘missed connection’ with Bucky? Like you talked to him on a bus or train for an hour but at the end you didn’t get his name or number? (will they meet again or not? I leave it to you haha)

A/N: Thank you for requesting this!! I’m sorry it took so long but this was so much fun to write omg <3 I hope it’s what you were looking for  and enjoy!
(also yes that’s the hogwarts express lmfao)

Word Count: 2945
Warnings: mention of family death / mention of spreading ashes kind of thing… 

Originally posted by whohehellisbucky

Originally posted by not-infires-its-inspires

Disclaimer: I don’t speak Romanian… Sorry if it’s wrong rip



iartă-mă… scuze… scuzati-ma…” 
(Pardon me… Sorry… Excuse me…)

You pushed your way through the crowded train, mumbling your apologies as you gripped your small suitcase tightly by your side.

It was mid summer and, finally having gotten some time off work, you’d flown to Romania for a few weeks.

Your mother had often spoken of her childhood in Bucharest when you were young, and when she’d passed away just over a year ago you’d decided to save up and see the places of her stories for yourself. You were now on the last few days of your trip and so far it had been an absolutely amazing journey. Bucharest was beautiful, the people were kind and as you got to know the country your mother had once called home, you quickly fell in love.

To be honest, you didn’t want to leave, but you didn’t have a choice so there you were.

To wrap up the trip you were spending your last weekend in Romania out in the countryside by a small farm called the “Cabana alb”. It was just outside the city and your mother had spent much of her summers there. It was her favourite place on the planet and where you had decided to spread her ashes.

And by “just outside the city”, you meant a two-hour train ride away.

Honestly, you hadn’t expected it to be that busy, but there you were squeezing through the crowded halls in search of an empty compartment to rest. They were, of course, all full. Until you happened across one at the back of the train.

You wrapped your knuckles softly against the glass before sliding the door open, catching the attention of it’s only occupant.

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Most civilized put down I have ever read!
Sherwin Dillar really put Virginia’s Governor in his place

Subject: A letter to the Virginia Governor

An Open Letter to Virginia Governor Terry McAuliffe

I was born in Los Angeles, California and raised in Ohio. I have taught Political Science at the collegiate level in Cincinnati, been published in The Wall Street Journal and am in my 12th year of research for a forthcoming book on Columbine.
For the past seven years I have made Rockbridge County, Virginia, my home.
The one and only reason I live in Lexington, Virginia is, because it is the final resting place of Robert E. Lee and Thomas J. Jackson. Their lives, character, faith, integrity, honor and testimony shone so brightly a century and a half after their decease, that there is no other place on the Earth I want to be, but where they lived and served.
There is something deeply and morally wrong with anyone, who objects to these two great Virginians—great Americans being honored by the native State, for which they gave their lives, limbs and blood in selfless patriotic service.
President Dwight D. Eisenhower kept Lee’s portrait in his executive office, while president. Churchill extolled him as the greatest American. Ulysses S. Grant threatened to resign from the U.S. Army, if Lee were tried for treason.
The statue that marks the grave of “Stonewall” Jackson was paid for not only by the veterans, who served under him, but by financial contributions from former slaves, whom he had taught to read in violation of Virginia law.
When a Lexington local assailed Jackson for breaking the law to “teach those people”, Jackson uncharacteristically lost his temper and shouted, “If you were a Christian you would not say so!”
After the war, it was Lee who broke social convention at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, by kneeling beside a former slave, who had mortified the White congregation by kneeling at the altar.
Asked afterward by a bigot why a man like himself would kneel beside a former slave, Lee simply chastised him, “The ground is always level at the foot of the cross.”
The anniversary of the deaths of Lee and of Jackson were long commemorated in this Commonwealth by veterans of the North, who were often the honored keynote speakers invited to praise the virtues of their once-foes.
Every monument to a Confederate Virginian is a war memorial to an American veteran.
It has been the mark of manhood and civility and longstanding American tradition to leave politics out of the way we honor our veterans. They fought the battles; we did not. They shed the blood; we did not. They reconciled with their enemies; we did not.
End of subject. It is not for children born a hundred and fifty years later to re-adjudicate the past and expose to double jeopardy men their own contemporaries exonerated.
It is the height of arrogance to suppose that you know more about these men and their times than their even contemporaries. The command of God remains, “Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set.”
It is to God you will assuredly answer for its violation.
If you find it impossible to respect your elders, attempt at least to revere your betters.
The destruction of Virginia’s monuments to her war dead is sacrilege and those, who urge and execute it, are nothing more than cemetery vandals. There is no honor in this course of wanton destruction and, morally, you equate yourself with ISIS, which shares your contempt for actual culture, something you both so manifestly lack. It is more than history, more than art.

No matter. No one will remember you in any 150 years. Nothing you do can make anything like the mark these great Virginians made on history’s ledger. Just being you another day is your own punishment and yet you still face God for what you propose to do as well. Something is deeply, horribly wrong with your soul, Sir. And you know it. So does all Virginia.
I have strived to be civil, but you do not make it easy. Smearing reputations, slandering saints and tearing down what better men raised has zero to do with love, unity, tolerance, acceptance, diversity and coexistence. It’s just the usual political spoils game, playing one race/class/group against another to score a win at any cost. The mean, petty loathing of Virginia’s first string heroes outs you as a raging hypocrite just as you were trying to pass for intelligent. What a piece of work.
Just leave the statues, graves, monuments and memorials right where the grown-ups put them, Terry. Just fool around doing nothing, you know, like back at Georgetown. Easy.
That’s all I ask. And about the most anybody expects of you. Aren’t you tired yet of just being the same old failure and lurching from bungled debacle to bungled debacle?

Why not shock the world: open a book, educate yourself and do something less horrible than usual. Resign, even, and leave Virginians to govern Virginia. What a concept.
Shouldn’t you be ruining Syracuse instead of Richmond?

With all due respect,
Sherwin W. Dillar

Rejecting Romance – Yennefer vs Triss

One of the things I equally love and loathe about the Witcher 3 is how rejecting either or both of the main romances, Triss and Yennefer, is heartbreaking but for such different reasons. I believe it shows how much effort the developers put into creating unique and life-like characters with their own separate merits and flaw. I’ll begin with Triss.


Originally posted by trystwithtriss

I think that the main reason I find that rejecting Triss is a challenge is that it isn’t really a rejection. One comment that the Sorceress makes in the game is how some people took advantage of Geralt while he had amnesia and she counts herself among them. I believe that one of the reasons she says this, and I’m not saying it’s true but just the way she might perceive the situation, is that she manipulated Geralt’s feelings for her so that he misjudges his emotions towards her, thinking it to be love for a partner rather than love for a dear friend. Therefore, when you don’t kiss her at the fountain and when you don’t ask her to stay, you aren’t rejecting her love as such, at least not in the same way as Yennefer, you are instead confirming what she always knew, that the way she loves him will never be reciprocated. On the other hand, it also means that by choosing to romance Triss you suddenly make the impossible, possible, and all the hopes and dreams she once thought ineffable seem a lot more in reach.

Originally posted by shinigami-dhrum

Now, I feel that the difficulty in rejecting Yennefer as a romance comes from that fact that she expects Geralt to feel the same way as she does, that nothing has changed between them thus that the emotions they have for one another in the books are still there. When Geralt admits that he no longer loves Yennefer she becomes suddenly lost because the man she has had a relationship with for 15-20years as suddenly ended just like that and this time there is no hope that they will ever be back together. She loses a big part of her life and his rejection is doubly painful because it helps to reinforce some of the very damaging and ingrained self-doubts she has, that the world is incapable of loving and accepting her, that she lost one of the only two people (the other being Ciri) she can truly be open and vulnerable with, because despite appearances, a part of Yennefer is very vulnerable which is why this hurts her so much. But, on a more positive note, by choosing to romance Yennefer you help to nurture her softer and more caring nature providing her with the love and support she needs to lessen, if not completely eradicate, the influences her traumatic childhood have on her present life.


Hope you enjoyed this read, feel free to leave your own thoughts