trying to find which way i liked it best

Onions in Witchcraft

So I had two requests, one relating to onions, and one relating to sympathetic magic, and I couldn’t get the two out of my head, so I’m going to combine them and talk about using onions in general, but especially as a poppet! All the opinions are mine, except when stated and sourced otherwise

Onions and witchcraft kind of go hand in hand for me. As a kitchen witch, they also hold a special place in my heart. I found a post once that said something to the effect of, “the smell of garlic and onion cooking feeds my soul,” and it is absolutely so true. There is no other herb/ingredient I use more in my cooking than onion. They are versatile, delicious, good for you, and chock full of uses for witches. Just to list a few;

  • Can be used in protection charms
  • Also good for fertility spells!
  • Great for spirit work
  • Use them in healing spells (or recipes :D )
  • As scapegoats and poppets
  • Also great for curses!

And now, let us delve into these different uses! 

Using Onions For Protection

The reason I think onions are so great for protection magic is about.. 75% based on the fact that they have a very offensive smell. I mean that in both the “eww gross” offensive, and also like, the “actively aggressive” way, especially when it pertains to using them in witchcraft. The stench works for you in two ways. First, it acts as a repellent, it’s the most basic ingredient for any ward I do. The smell makes people (and some other nasties) want to run in the opposite direction! If that doesn’t do the trick, then we get the OTHER offensive side of onions, that literally attacks unwanted energies and entities. Onions are both scary looking and super strong, so just in case something has the balls to try to go face-to-face with your scary looking onion pal, it can then whoop the ass of that nasty! 

Using Onions For Fertility

I consider onions great for fertility related works because they are so easy to grow! Next to potatoes, there’s nothing I am better at growing than onions! Because they seem to reproduce faster than I can use them, I always have extra on hand. While I don’t have any uses for fertility spells necessarily, you can adapt fertility to mean a few different things, including “abundance.” In this case, it means that I use onions in areas where I need “more” of something. For instance, I might include onions in a spell for drawing extra money to me, or in a charm bag to promote an abundance of joy and good health in my home. You catch my drift?

Using Onions For Spirit Work

Alright so I don’t actually do spirit work (on account of my wife being a scaredy-cat but NBD), but what I DO is make a few spell bags and charms to keep ghosties out, and that includes a very large helping of onion powder. In fact, I would say that besides for salt, I use onion the most for everything. I associate onions with spirit work and dead people because they are buried in the ground! In Hellenic Polytheism, things that are buried in the ground usually reside in the realm of Kthonic deities, like Haides, and Persephone, as opposed to Ouranic deities, like Zeus, Apollo, Hermes(in some forms). I would love to hear from people who do spirit work on their opinions on this! 

Using Onions For Healing

Onions are scientifically proven to be super awesome for your body. They strengthen your immune system, help control your blood sugar, speed up the healing process while also being an anti-inflammatory, and much much more! Of course it’s a healing herb! That means I can use it in everything from spells and charm bags to full blown recipes, or even straight on my skin, raw! One of my most favorite kitchen witchy things to do is make Fire Cider every fall! It’s a perfect example of the almighty Onions healing powers! 

Onions as Scapegoats and Poppets

Because of the nature of onions, and their diversity, I find that one of the best ways to use them are for sympathetic magic. For me, onions are pure, basically a blank slate energetically, which makes them perfect candidates to use for poppets and the like. First, they are generally easy to take apart in some form or another, whether slicing it, or carving it like a pumpkin. This makes it easy to put items, herbs and other such things inside it when trying to go for the poppet thing or even just a taglock for the scapegoat idea. Another reason they are great is because onions do overtime have an outward change of state. So, after three or four months, that onion you made into a poppet to catch up all that negativity is looking pretty fucking nasty. Well, that’s an outward and obvious sign of the way your magic and science coincided. You have this physical proof that this onion has been affected by it’s environment, physically and magically. I happen to think that’s pretty awesome. 

Using Onions For Curses

I also like using onions for curses, with the same sympathetic magic idea. One of my favorite ways to curse used to be to slice open a lemon, slide a name inside it, and to put pins through the whole thing. Now, I do that with onions and it works just as well! They also work well by slicing or dicing them and burying a poppet, piece of paper, or something else similar. I would even say that it could be interesting for a kitchen witch curse, to dice onions, shred a paper with the information for the curse on it, throw in a little bit of those *super fucking hot spices* and sautê it all together, only to dump it into the trash or in a jar to rot or what have you! 
So this is in no way an exhaustive list of what onions can be used for in witchcraft, i just wanted to give a little information about how I used them in my practice! 

Ideas for language studying

These are some of the ways you can study a language that come to my mind. Some will work better than others for you, and you should try them all to find which ones fit you best.

  • “Good old” group classes/courses.
  • A private tutor.
  • Language books divided in CEFR levels, or beginner, intermediate, etc.
  • Grammar books.
  • Vocabulary books.
  • Having a language learning notebook.
  • Using flashcards for vocab or grammar rules.
  • Interactive courses like Pimsleur, Rosetta Stone, etc.
  • Free online courses, this can be something you download or websites, for example.
  • MOOCs (massive open online courses), they are online courses, yes, but I consider them as another category. 
  • Paid online courses.
  • Bilingual books.
  • Listening to the radio.
  • Watching TV.
  • Watching movies and series with or without subtitles in your target language.
  • YouTube videos, gold.
  • Podcasts, about learning that language or in that language about any topic.
  • Websites like italki.
  • Chatting with native speakers you met on the internet.
  • Writing in a diary or journal in your target language.
  • Reading newspapers, online or printed.
  • Re-reading your favourite books.
  • Reading children’s books if you’re a beginner, or for fun.
  • Reading manga or comics.
  • Reading novels from native authors.
  • Reading books about a topic that interests you in your target language instead of your native language.
  • Reading magazines, specially if you live in the country.
  • Buying cookbooks in your target language.
  • Searching for recipes in your target language.
  • Writing the name of things in your target language on post-its and laying them around the house.
  • Change the language in your phone, PC, tablet, Facebook, etc. to your target language.
  • Using Tumblr and following the #langblr community (lol).
P.S. I Love You- A Sirius Black Imagine

A/N: I know, I know, two imagines in one night? Anyways, this is a little something that I decided to work on and post tonight in dedication to @goblackhatwithme . I hope you enjoy it, Renee! There are probably many mistakes in this so I am sorry but I wanted to get this posted tonight. This also has nothing to do with the film “P.S. I Love You,” but I thought it was a cute title. Hope you all enjoy!

Originally posted by nellaey

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. You were in the boys’ dormitory, lounging on Sirius’ bed and waiting for him to get out of the shower. You sighed in slight annoyance as you knew it was going to be a while. He was always so keen on using the “finest muggle products for his precious hair” and cursed Lily and yourself for showing them to him in the first place.

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anonymous asked:

I LOVE that you talk about Phil as his own person and that you bring attention to 'philphobia'! I see in your posts so many of my own thoughts that I've been too afraid/uncomfortable to address, and it makes me happy(? more like satisfied?) that someone is saying it so publicly. It's a disheartening reality some parts of the phandom and it's important to mention it, so thank you <3

I admire Phil so much, and for so many reasons. These are just a few:

  1. He seems like such a genuinely nice, warm, caring, thoughtful person.
  2. He seems so generous, such as when he invited Dan onstage at the BONCAs to share his accolades.
  3. He never brags about his accomplishments, even if maybe sometimes he should! He’s accomplished a lot worth bragging about!
  4. He seems like a really good friend, not only to Dan but to loads of other people, most of which we never see except in occasional little glimpses like his recent collab with Shawna. This is one of the reasons I wish he did more collabs with other YouTubers, because a lot of them seem very fond of him, but we don’t get to see it much.
  5. He seems to really try to keep a positive attitude. Sometimes in life that’s hard, like when he got sick on tour, but he seems to always really try to find a way to still be happy and to make others happy, too. He still went out on that stage every night and did his best to make that once-in-a-lifetime experience something every audience member would always remember with joy.
  6. His love for animals is adorable, but also ethically meaningful. I love that he said in his last live show that while on the tour in Florida he was really worried that they were invading the personal space of the baby alligators. Phil really thinks and cares about the well-being of other creatures, both humans and non-humans. He shows so much respect for the natural world, people and animals and plants and all!
  7. He seems like a very ambitiously creative thinker who believes he can make things happen, and that’s clearly been the case since childhood, since we’ve seen clips of the movie he made when he was a kid. Most kids wouldn’t have had the drive and perseverence to create such a large project, but kid!Phil did. Just imagine what he still has ahead of him!
  8. He seems to laugh a lot, and to quite easily laugh at himself. It requires a real belief in yourself, a sense of security and respect for yourself, to be able to laugh so easily when you realize you’ve done something stupid. I’ve always admired that about him, that he doesn’t edit out the moments when he’s filming and says something dumb … instead, he usually emphasizes it in his videos, knowing that millions of people will see it! That’s a sign of incredible comfort with himself, a level of comfort most people never achieve.
  9. He’s incredibly beautiful from a purely visually aesthetic standpoint, but doesn’t seem to think about that much. It’s rare that we see a photo of him—like the ladybug selfie—where he seems to be emphasizing his own physical beauty. I worry sometimes that this comes from a lack of recognition of his own physical attractiveness, but then pics like the ladybug selfie make me doubt that it’s ignorance, because nobody could look at that photo without thinking, “That is an incredibly beautiful man” … not even Phil, I hope.
  10. He doesn’t let society’s expectations limit him, and it seems like he never really has. He’s always seemed open and accepting (and even proud) of the ways in which he is unique, different, and even “weird.” He doesn’t let anyone’s expectations of what a 30-year-old man “should” be like determine his behavior or his attitudes. He watches anime and steals cereal and dresses up in silly wigs and giggles and doesn’t let anybody tell him that he needs to “grow up.” There are a million different ways to be a “grown-up,” and I love that Phil defines it for himself instead of letting anyone else define it for him.

Phil is not half of Dan-and-Phil.  He is his own person, and I love that person for all the things that make him who he is, even the things he doesn’t let us see, because he has a right to privacy. Whatever parts of himself he chooses not to share, those parts of him still contribute to the whole Phil, and that person is someone I admire and respect.

‘Kids Will Climb Into Ovens To Roast Themselves Alive’: 5 Questions With Gordon Ramsay

With a culinary empire that includes dozens of top-tier restaurants and numerous hit TV shows, Gordon Ramsay is the food world’s biggest star. He was kind enough to sit down with us and share some of the secrets behind his astronomical success as a chef and entertainer.

1. You just wrapped up your fifth season of

MasterChef Junior.

How does working in a kitchen full of kid chefs differ from working in one full of adults?

It requires a lot more patience and attention. If you turn away for even a moment during a challenge, all the kids will climb into their ovens to roast themselves alive. If you don’t accompany them to the pantry, they’ll inevitably stuff a seabass full of forks and radishes and use a pressure cooker to turn it into a dirty bomb. You can’t get mad at them—kids will be kids, after all—but you’ve really got to watch them closely.

2. What is the most important factor in putting together a successful dish?

It all comes down to ingredients. Use only the best, most stunning ingredients, and source them as locally as possible. I try to only use ingredients that can be found within a 10-meter radius of my kitchen, which essentially amounts to whatever can be foraged from my laundry room and bathroom. That may sound limiting, but it’s not. Nothing dances on the taste buds quite like the L.A. Looks hair gel I find under my bathroom sink. There’s no better aromatic to brighten up a roast than the dryer sheets in find in the cupboard above my washing machine. Trust me, local is the way to go.

3. Your name is synonymous with fine dining, but do you have any culinary guilty pleasures? Perhaps some junk foods you secretly like to pig out on?

In the U.K. we have this snack called Gromfrey’s Aerated, which is basically warm cod fanny that’s been whipped into a parfait and stuffed into a tube of sheep intestine with large deposits of salt and wet wool—sort of like a British Twinkie. Anyway, the Gromfrey’s Wagon comes around every morning at sunrise, and when I’m back home I’ll invariably be the first one out to greet it, eagerly waving a fistful of quid while the schoolchildren queue up behind me, all of us chanting the famous jingle, “Lord Gromfrey, Lord Gromfrey! Bring us your hot and viscous treat! Lord Gromfrey, Lord Gromfrey! Our favorite aerated meat!” It’s all empty calories and sodium, but I can’t get enough.

4. If you could give aspiring chefs one piece of advice, what would it be?

Keep your damn cock-hole the size it is. Don’t go stretching it out to the point that it hardly functions as a cock-hole anymore. Just stick with the cock-hole size God gave you, and work with its limitations. I see so many great young chefs get ruined by thinking they need this gigantic cock-hole like Wolfgang Puck or Daniel Boulud. No. Sure, cock-hole size plays a part in being a great chef, we all know that, but it’s just one of the three factors that go into creating great cuisine. Don’t let it hold you back.

5. What is one trait you’ve noticed that great chefs have in common?

A very large cock-hole.

“Mundanes are Weird”

Imagine the shadowhunters trying to survive in a mundane high school

“We have a problem.” Jace stated, stalking into the training room of the Institute.
“I swear to the Angel, Jace, if it’s about your ‘life threatening hotness’ again, I’m going to kill you.” Alec warned.
“It’s not that.” Jace leaned against the wall. “Stop training, this is important.”
“How important?” Alec sighed, stopping punching the bag and pulling on his jacket.
“We have a load of reports of vampire attacks, from a high school nearby.” Jace straightened up.
“And? Vampire attacks don’t happen often, but we’ve handled them before.” Alec walked towards Jace, confused about why this was so important.
“They were all attacked during the day. And none were killed, so either it’s someone who’s really bad at faking being a vampire, or they’ve figured something out. Come on, me, you, Izzy, Clary, and even Simon are enrolling at the school.” Jace was obviously displeased about the fact that Simon was coming, but there wasn’t much he could do about it, vampires were generally very good at finding other vampires, and the only match for their speed.

You rubbed your eyes, still not used to the extreme brightness that came with being a vampire. You were also not used to your new body clock, that basically told you you couldn’t sleep. You could, however, lie down, close your eyes, and have some vivid daydreams. Being a vampire was not easy, nothing like the books and internet told you. You couldn’t even figure out why you weren’t burned by the sun, it stung certainly, but burn, it did not. In fact, you didn’t seem to have lots of the vampire traits, which was rather disappointing. If you were going to be forced to crave blood for all eternity,  the least you deserved was some super-powers.
Sighing, you got out of bed and dressed into a pair of black skinny jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red hoodie. You didn’t wear much colour before you’d suddenly started craving blood, but black was just easier as it didn’t show any stains if you were a bit messy. You pulled on your sneakers and tied your hair back, then went down the stairs and out the front door.
You walked to school, arriving right on time. You were getting your books from your locker when a teacher stopped you. “Y/N, this is Alec Lightwood, he’s going to be in your class, do you think you could show him around, make sure he knows where he’s going?”
You nodded, smiling at the tall, dark haired boy. “Not a problem. Do you have kit? P.E. is our first class.”
He just stared blankly at you, trying to understand. “‘Kit’?” He asked.
“P.E. gear? Clothes you can work out in.” You explained, as the teacher walked away.
“What’s P.E.?” He asked. “And no, I don’t have ‘kit’.”
“P.E. stands for Physical Education.” You explained, as you started walking towards the gym, him trailing behind you. “Did you not have it in your old school?”
“It was a very different school.” He mumbled, striding beside you. “All they really taught us was how to fight, different combat situations and all.”
“Oh, like a military school or something?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”
Just then, you saw your friend Jason, who’d recently broken a leg, up ahead. “Hey, J! This is Alec, he’s new here. Do you have kit he could borrow? He didn’t know we had P.E. today.”
“Yeah it’s in my locker, hi.” He smiled, crutching over to his locker and opening it. He took out a bag and tossed it to Alec, who caught it surprisingly quickly.
“Don’t worry, the clothes are definitely clean.” You laughed. “Jason is so afraid of germs he may as well wash his clothes halfway through P.E.”
“Oh shut up!” Jason laughed, limping over to the two of you. “Alex, is it?”
“Alec.” He corrected, not quite managing to smile, which the two of you put down as nerves. “How did you hurt your leg?”
The two of you exchanged a look, and you immediately knew that now was the time to lie. “He broke it when he was helping me with some D.I.Y. in my house.” You laughed, as did Jason.
“She felt so guilty she brought me hand-made meals every day for two weeks, until I finally told her she couldn’t cook.” Jason was grinning from ear to ear now, and you gave him a light shove. “Shut it, asshole.”
Alec chuckled lightly. “I feel your pain, I have a sister who cooks sometimes. When she cooks, we generally order take-out.”
Jason stuck his tongue out at you. “And they say women belong in the kitchen.” He turned to Alec. “I can show you where the guys’ changing rooms are, class starts soon.”
“I’ll meet you there, I’ve gotta get changed.” You smiled at the guys, and slipped off to the girl’s changing room.

“Jace, relax.” Clary urged, looking at her timetable. “It’s just school.”
“But there’s so many people here, we’re all gonna have to be on high alert if we want even a chance at finding this vampire.” Jace never settled his gaze anywhere for more than a split second, trying to remember everything and everyone. “I don’t like this, there’s too much danger. For all we know, they’re all vampires.”
“Nah, not likely.” Clary smiled. “Our best way to find them would probably be to find someone who was attacked and see if they remember anything.”
“And how do we do that?” Jace asked, then tensed slightly as the bell rang.
“Well, a good start would be to go to our first class, which would be… maths.” Clary frowned. “I hate maths.”
“Let’s do this.” Jace grabbed his bag, looking like he was steeling himself for something.
When they got to class, the teacher made them stand at the front and say their names with something interesting about themselves. Clary said that she liked art, while Jace went with he was interested in sports. After this, they were both given seats, Clary was next to a guy who looked like he lived maths, while Jace was next to a pretty girl with long blonde hair who was very interested in talking to him.

“You’re in luck Iz, our first class is science.” Simon smiled at Izzy. He was the only vampire who’d developed the ability to go out in the sun, and no one knew why, but it was very useful for this hunt.
“Oh phew, that shouldn’t be too hard.” Izzy smiled at him, then looked around at all the students milling past her. “Getting any vampy senses?”
“No, not really.” Simon admitted, “There’s something, but it feels like it’s outside the grounds of the school, so I’d say it’s not our guy.” He glanced around, then rested his hand on the small of Izzy’s back, guiding her towards their classroom.
They managed to arrive neither too early nor too late, and looked around the class. They split up, Izzy going to sit with a group of girls, and Simon sitting with two of the guys. They’d agreed beforehand that the best and fastest way to find the vampire was to split up and try to cover as much ground as possible, but Simon had an ulterior motive. He knew what the Clave did to downworlders who broke the Accords, and so he was hoping to get to the vampire before the others so he could help them, the way Raphael had helped him.

i could teach you - taeyong scenario - part two

Lee Taeyong - NCT

words - 1855

genre - man idk really is jus taeyong doing his ting my guy

warnings - vulgar language?? mentions of sex

dedicated to @yongsexual  ♥ ♥ ♥

part - one / two / three / four / five

Originally posted by t-yong

You shoved your head further back into soft plush pillows beneath you and grumbled. Even through your eyes were shut the light was too brilliant in this room and someone somewhere was playing heavy metal at what felt like fucking dawn to you. Hissing, you jerked the covers over your hammering head, hoping the darkness would act as barrier against everything that was disturbing you. Unfortunately that didn’t work and you didn’t want to particularly move any of your dead muscles - maybe if you yelled something the owner of that horrendous music would at least turn it off.

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She’s got this scar,
Ever so delicately placed across her right cheek bone.
I bet most people don’t even notice it,
But I spend hours admiring her little blemish,
I can’t help but find beauty in all of her flaws.
When she’s crying and can’t stop,
I want nothing more than to wipe her tears-
Hold her tight, even if her world is crumbling
I love the parts of her that change with her mood,
The way her eyes soften to a light green as tears crawl down the side of her cheeks
I love the way I can tell when she’s anxious-
When she averts her eyes and avoids eye contact, even with me.
I love the way her upper lip curls
And the depth of her eyes speak so loudly
I always know which emotion she’s feeling in that exact moment
I love the comfort she feels with me,
When her whole world feels like it’s swallowing her whole-
I am the one she texts,
I love that she fights sleep in evenings,
Because she never wants to hang up on FaceTime.
I find so much beauty in the little things,
So much worth just in the way you try your best to get out of bed in the mornings.
I love the way you know yourself-
The way you let me know you too.
Baby, if you start to spiral
I’ll meet you at the bottom and walk up 30 flights of stairs with you.
If that still isn’t enough I’d walk up 100 flights of stairs just to hold your hand through the ever fading darkness.
I love your flaws, I love your perfections, I love absolutely everything about you.
And I promise I’ll always do my best to love the parts that cause our fights,
That cause anger to boil beneath my flesh,
I promise to always try to love the best parts of you and the worst.
I’ll keep choosing you;
Through the good and through the bad.

anonymous asked:

Hi, I'm in love with your blog! Question: I spend a lot of time planning my story, however I'm stuck because I don't know if I should narrate it by third-person omniscient or first-person. What are the pros and cons of each type of narrator? I would like to have three people as the protagonists, but it's also my first novel so...

Thank you!

Now this is a struggle that I know particularly well. It’s a debate I often have with my own stories. There’s always one that will work with your particular story the best, but sometimes it’s a really close call. 

Let’s compare the two.

First Person:

Pros:

  • It’s natural: For a lot of writers, using the first person is the easiest way to tell a story, just because it’s what we do in our daily lives. We don’t say “The anonymous asker- who is myself- sent a question the other day,” we say “I sent a question on anon the other day.”
  • Your narrating character has a unique voice: Most well-developed characters will often have their own way of talking that is different from the voices of your other characters or from your own voice. Using first person means that you can play around a lot more with the language. 
  • VIP Tropes: Like with the other perspectives, there are special tropes or tricks that you can only do with this perspective, such as the Unreliable Narrator and more. 
  • Front Row Seats to the Angst: One of my favorite parts about using first person is the ability to really tap into the main character’s emotions. Characters can directly state how they are feeling and why, which actually very much helps readers relate to or understand them.
  • Empathy and Understanding: Basically like the point above, but more specifically, it can help the reader understand decisions that might otherwise seem strange, immoral, etc

Cons:

  • Limitations: The most obvious downside is that the story is now limited to only the scenes in which your character is present, which can limit things such as your additional character arcs, etc.
  • Tinted Glasses: Because things are only seen through your character’s perspective, the details they provide are therefore tinted by their thoughts and opinions.
  • Lack of outside perspective: You don’t always know what the other characters think of the main character, because the main character is only perceiving the details of their interactions based off of what they think of themselves. Again, a colored perspective, but this time involving interactions. 
  • Poetry sounds a little weird: Most people don’t really talk like that. You say “the wind was like, biting cold today”, not “the wind bit like a sharpened blade grazing the skin.” If your character says the latter, I am a little concerned and befuddled by them. 

Third Person Omniscient: 

Pros:

  • You don’t have to use their voice: If you don’t like to use your characters’ voice, congrats, you don’t have to. You can now write with your own Special Writer Voice.
  • Details: Because third person is no longer limited to that which your character can sense, you can bring a bunch of random details that people tend not to actually notice, which means all that poetic stuff can now be included. That means you can now say the thing about the wind.
  • In fact, all the descriptions get a lot more posh. One of the other problems with first person is that your main character probably won’t be very well described unless they have a cheesy Mirror Scene or something, and as I also mentioned, you have little idea about what the other characters think of MC. In third person, that all opens up.
  • You can play around behind closed doors: Once again, since you are no longer reliant upon what your character can sense, you can now track other characters and their goings-on. That means the reader now gets to be privy to all the secrets, betrayals, and other private interactions between the other characters. This is particularly good if you have multiple character arcs to keep track of. 
  • Mindreading: You can now dive a little bit into everyone’s minds to see how they think or feel. Granted, you don’t get to know anyone as especially well as you come to know the first person MC, but now everyone has the same level of empathy, and bonus, without the “tinted glasses” of the MC.

Cons: 

Basically, everything you gained in first person is lost in third person.

  • Mindreading 2: You know everybody, but only kind of. 
  • Empathy gaps: It becomes a lot harder to establish an emotional connection from reader to character. When you cannot relate directly to the character’s feelings, it takes a lot more work on the writer’s part to make them care. 
  • Confusion: True, you now have more opportunity for moving around settings and perspectives, but sometimes, with so much to keep track of, it can be disorienting if you don’t balance all of your scene changes and movements. 

It may seem like there are a lot less disadvantages, but the whole-emotional disconnect thing is a lot more significant than it seems.

How do we know which one to use? Well, it’s hard to say sometimes. One way that modern writers have developed these days to get around a few of the disadvantages of the first person is to have multiple main characters, and alternate between their perspectives. In that way, you get multiple views, opinions, etc.

Of course, that presents its own problems as well. For one, if a reader doesn’t like a particular perspective, they’ll be tempted to skip their chapters, and for another, it can sometimes be difficult determining which scenes should be narrated by whom, just as examples.

Upon looking at the advantages and disadvantages, think of what best serves your particular story. As I frequently advise, when in doubt, try it out. Sometimes I start in third but then find that the characters are begging to tell it themselves. Other times, they are incredibly grudging and unwilling to speak.

With consideration, you might be able to figure out just by the obvious pros and cons which option is best suited for your story. If not, that’s okay. Try a chapter either way and see what conveys the correct flow.

It’s a rather important decision to make, and sometimes it takes a lot of writing it one way and then changing your mind thousands and thousands of words in, but ultimately, finding the right way is imperative.

Best of luck to you, and I hope this helps you sort it out a little easier :)

~Penemue

Piano Man

Originally posted by xehunted

Pairing: Taeil x reader
Genre: smut 
Warnings: language
Word count: 4,296


You breathed through your nostrils furiously as you scrolled down the page on the hundredth site for houses for rent you had checked that day. Nothing lived up to your expectations. Well, actually, if you were honest with yourself a lot of them lived up to your expectations, exceeding them in a lot of cases. However, even the shoddiest rooftop room seemed to be way too pricey for a college student that was trying to be independent just like you. Which also translated to “I will not be asking my parents for help” as much as it was needed in situations like this. 

You did find an apartment that was at a somewhat reasonable price, but it still being more than you could afford with the low wage of your shitty part time job. Moving out of the college dormitories was not going to be easy and you knew that, but all your plans came crumbling down as reality hit you. Neither of your three best friends could be your roommates because two of them already had one and the third one shared an apartment with their partner. Writing down the needed information about the apartment, you closed the tab and opened another one, typing in the website of your college. A lot of students could post various stuff on the home page, so it was time you typed in a post looking for a roommate. 

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STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS SENTENCE STARTERS.

  • ❝ Uh… What does he/she/they look like? ❞ 
  • ❝ Don’t worry, supreme leader. We’ll take care of him/her/them. ❞ 
  • ❝ Shoot him/her/them, shoot him/her/them now! ❞ 
  • ❝ Quickly, ready, aim, fire! Fire! ❞ 
  • ❝ That’s a lot of smoke for a surrender. ❞ 
  • ❝ Report, what’s going on down there? 224, come in!  ❞ 
  • ❝ The fight isn’t over yet, majesty. ❞ 
  • ❝ I will not deal with those who break their words. ❞ 
  • ❝ In the end, cowards are those who follow the dark side. ❞ 
  • ❝ It was a pity I wasn’t there, my old master. ❞ 
  • ❝ Belief is not a matter of choice, but of conviction. ❞ 
  • ❝ Sergeant, why are you so certain no one will coming? ❞ 
  • ❝ We can’t just turn our backs on them. ❞ 
  • ❝ I know, but the way you said it was all wrong. ❞ 
  • ❝ So which one’s mine, Master? ❞ 
  • ❝ They’ll panic? I’m just beginning to panic! ❞ 
  • ❝ The best confidence builder is experience. ❞ 
  • ❝ Where’s your sergeant-in-command? ❞ 
  • ❝ Your armor, it’s shiny and new, just like you. ❞ 
  • ❝ There’s hope for you yet, rookie. ❞ 
  • ❝ Today we fight for all our brothers back home, understood? ❞ 
  • ❝ Do we take prisoners? ❞ 
  • ❝ You need to search and find that droid right away. ❞ 
  • ❝ No, this is not, I repeat not a rescue mission. ❞ 
  • ❝ This could take a while to bypass. ❞ 
  • ❝ What is the matter with you? Are you trying to get us killed? ❞ 
  • ❝ I was leading the mission and it seemed like a good idea at the time. ❞ 
  • ❝ Go back to the ship and call for help. ❞ 
  • ❝ The ship has been destroyed. ❞ 
  • ❝ To live in fear is no life at all! ❞ 
  • ❝ Let me go and I can give you money beyond your imagination! ❞ 
  • ❝ In the meantime, I have a little gift for you! ❞ 
  • ❝ I’ll give you a merciful death. ❞ 
  • ❝ That power will only consume you. ❞ 
  • ❝ This is how you thank me for rescuing you? ❞ 
  • ❝ Lucky for you, I’m an excellent shot. ❞ 
  • ❝ For all your expertise, this isn’t a very smooth landing. ❞ 
  • ❝ It got knocked out of my hands. ❞ 
  • ❝ You know what would be helpful? A little light. ❞ 
  • ❝ You don’t suppose it was hit by a rock, do you? ❞ 
  • ❝ Looks like I got here just in time. ❞ 
  • ❝ How come I’m the one getting caught all the time?  ❞ 
  • ❝ At least you’re a master… at getting caught. ❞ 
  • ❝ We have no quarrel with you, and we seek no revenge. ❞ 
  • ❝ After everything, you’re just going to walk away? ❞ 
  • ❝ Don’t you think our priority should be escape first, eat second? ❞ 
  • ❝ What happened to the power? I was having fun! ❞ 
  • ❝ Violence breeds violence. It takes two to fight. ❞ 
  • ❝ But is it worth killing for?  ❞ 
  • ❝ How could you do this to your brothers? ❞ 
  • ❝ Fear is a disease; hope is its only cure. ❞ 
  • ❝ Perhaps they are the ones who should be eradicated? ❞ 
  • ❝ We don’t have time for games. ❞ 
  • ❝ We’re not retreating. We’re following orders. ❞ 
  • ❝ But sometimes you get carried away. ❞ 
  • ❝ We can’t just smash through that blockade. ❞ 
  • ❝ You don’t even have a plan?! ❞ 
  • ❝ There seems to be a problem. ❞ 
  • ❝ I’ll hold them off, get that bridge back up! ❞ 
  • ❝ Oh, you can’t imagine the unspeakable things I’ve suffered!  ❞ 
  • ❝ That’s not what I want. Not at all. ❞ 

anonymous asked:

i love love love how you write neil and andrew, they are literally so in character it hurts... i'm writing a fanfic for the big bang but i have no idea how to write them, thank god they're mostly background characters. do you have any tips tho??

aw thank you so much! i know i write them a little bit softer than they actually are, but that’s a deliberate choice i made (…after election day hahahahahahahaha) bc i’m a wuss and i just want everyone to be happy lol. in my big bang fic they are like anti-soft. it’s bleak.

full disclaimer, this is all my personal reading of andrew & neil and a lot of people write them differently depending on personal taste and interpretation (i highly recommend @ravenvsfox for what i think is one of the truest-to-the-books portrayals of andrew i’ve seen! also @badacts writes an AMAZING neil)

that said here is my advice (this got long so it’s under a cut):

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This Cannot Happen-Jon Snow x Reader One Shot

Summary: Requested by @aishsanap: ‘Hey can you please make a Jon Snow imagine for me where the reader loves him but he doesn’t and can you make it sad.. Thank you’

Characters: Jon Snow x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name

Warnings: Just sad


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My hands were red raw from carrying the heavy buckets of water. I could feel the blisters forming already. Catching my breath, I set down the buckets for now, I want urgently needed back at the castle, they could wait a few more minutes. Leaning against the wall, my eyes scanned the courtyard, watching as everyone went about their business. Without looking away, I picked up the buckets, only to set them down again. Stepping out of the stables with a horse was my friend, Jon.

We were good friends, mainly because he was always outcasted from things with his family, leaving him to mope around alone; until I came along and spoke to him. I was just a servant, I shouldn’t have really started a conversation but he looked so sad. At first he seemed tense, not really knowing how to speak back, though eventually it started to become a habit.

However, as I got to know him better, my heart grew for him. There was no denying how handsome he was. He was so much more than that though. Jon was clever, he had ideas, he had a different perspective of the world than anyone else. He may have been raised as a bastard but I saw so much more than that. I was a fool to fall in love with him, a stupid, naive girl. When we were together, I think he felt the same too. He only ever smiled around me, laughed with me too. That nervous feeling you got when you were around people you love always happened to me and I hope it happened to him too.

“My lord.” I called out, smiling as I walked up to him.

He looked startled to see me.“(Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here. You’re normally cleaning by now.”

I rubbed my hands tenderly.“Yeah, well, I needed a break."Where are you off to?”

He froze on the spot for a moment before saddling his horse again. I furrowed my eyebrows at his behaviour; yes, he was an awkward boy at times but this was just plain weird. It seemed as if he was in a hurry, making sure he had all his things and that everything was correct. Something was off about him.

“Jon.” I stopped him and asked him more firmly.“Where are you going?”

He sighed.“I’m heading for the Wall. There’s nothing for me here.”

I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t believe what he had said.“Th-the Wall?! My lord, are you listening to yourself?! Why go there when you could live a peaceful life here?”

“I’ll only ever be a bastard here. Maybe I could make something of a name for myself.”

“But criminals are sent there! You’re a good man.”

“I’m a criminal by just being a bastard.”

“No you’re not! You are nothing like those sent to the Wall. They aren’t missed up there.”

“Well, that won’t make much difference for me.” He grabbed his horse’s reins, walking forward.

I too held onto the reins to stop him.“You will be missed! I just don’t understand why you’re throwing this all away.”

Jon sadly smiled.“I will miss you too, (Y/N), you have been a great friend to me.”

Was that all I was to him? A servant who just so happened to have beome a friend of his? After all this time I thought…I thought that maybe something would come out of this. Was it all just a fantasy? Has I been so head over heels that my mind convinced me that he loved me back just so I wouldn’t spend my days crying in pain? Was I really that blind?

“F-friend? Is that all I am to you? I mean nothing more?” my breath for caught in my throat as my hands slipped from the reins.

“(Y/N), I do not understand what you are asking of me. Do you mean to say you had feelings for me?”

“Feelings? They were more than that! You can’t go because…because…”

“Because?”

“Because I love you!” I blurted out.

Jon closed his eyes, sighing.“I am sorry that I cannot reciprocate your feelings. I have always seen you as someone I could confide in, talk to when I am sad or just merely a friend of mine. Never had it once crossed my mind that you and I could do such a thing as courting.”

I regretted telling him any of this. I must have looked a fool.“Are you just saying this to make me angry o-o-or sad at you so that it will be less painful when you leave?!” I prayed that was his reasoning.

Sorrowfully, he shook his head.“I will not lie to you (Y/N). You cannot change my mind though. I am to spend my days at the Wall and do something useful before I die.”

“I just thought…oh gods, I was such a stupid girl.” I sighed into my hands.

“I don’t know where these thoughts have come from, but if I have ever led you to believe that I loved you, I apologise.”

I tried to pull myself together, I didn’t want to cry in front of him or anyone else around us. Without looking up,I slowly stepped forward, wrapping my arms around him. He instantly hugged back which I was relieved by. It didn’t seem that he hated me for feeling this way, only pitiful.

“I have to go (Y/N).” He whispered to me.

I could have easily held onto him forever. This is what it would have been like if we were together, we would hold each other through winter nights, trying to warm each other with just our bodies. Erasing those images from my head, I pulled away from him, realising I was now sobbing.

“You will find your man someday (Y/N). I am just not him.”

Jon smiled at me and I tried my best to smile back. He walked his horse to the gates as I watched, jumping onto it before riding out of the gates of Winterfell. As Jon left me, so did my happiness.

Camping Trip

Submitted by: http://goeffs-farming-and-mercantile.tumblr.com/

Length: Medium

I’ve lived in West Virginia all my life. The state has its downfalls and my city in particular has plenty of problems, but it is an undeniably beautiful state and I must say I’m proud to call it home. 

Now I say I’m from West Virginia but let me say, I’m from the city so I am in no way used to being in the forest. So when my best friend suggested we go camping deep in the woods, I was a little wary. But I decided that it would be fun for just the two of us to be out in the woods. We would hike to our spot, make camp, and just hang out, probably smoke a little devil’s lettuce. All in all it sounded like a fun little bonding trip for the two of us, so we decided on a day and started getting ready. 

We headed out on Friday afternoon and drove to where we would park the car for the night. Everything was going great as we started hiking through the woods and we made idle chat as we went. When we got to the spot where we would be camping, something immediately felt off. I turned to look at my best friend and by the look on her face I could tell she felt it too. After a few seconds of standing in silence, we began to laugh. We were being ridiculous. I figured that we were just overreacting because we weren’t used to being so far out in the woods, so we shook it off and started making camp. 

After we finished setting up our campsite, we decided to go looking for fire wood, which was easy enough to find, as it was autumn and had been a dry week. But as we walked the strange feeling came back, only stronger. I quickly realized it was the feeling of being watched. Kelsey, my best friend, didn’t seem to have the same feeling this time, so I decided to try my best to ignore it. As we began making our way back to camp, though, it got harder to ignore, especially when I noticed the sounds that seemed to be coming from around us. It sounded like someone or something was following us, closely. To this day, I don’t know why I didn’t tell her we should leave, but I wish I had. 

When we got back to camp, the noises stopped and I quickly forgot about it as we started our fire, got some food ready, and started smoking. Forgetting about it was yet another mistake. The evening went on decently enough, we had a lot more fun once we were high. We did all the usual camping stuff; roasting marshmallows and telling stories by the fire, and then headed to bed around midnight. 

We’d been sleeping for about an hour or so when we were woken up by sounds outside our tent. At first I thought it was an animal, maybe a deer or a raccoon or even, god forbid, a bear. But as I kept listening I noticed that the sounds were deliberate. Something was making its way purposely around our tent, like it was scoping us. When I noticed that I thought for a second it might be a person trying to rob or kill us, until the moonlight illuminated the outside, casting the thing’s shadow across the tent. I was horrified by what I saw. It was huge, at least seven feet and it looked like it had wings. I made eye contact with Kelsey and saw the fear on her face that I knew was mirrored on mine. 

Shortly after we caught a glimpse of the thing’s shadow, the moon went back behind some clouds, leaving us in pitch black again. We laid there in silence for what felt like hours, trembling in each other’s arms as we listened to the thing moving around outside. When the noises finally stopped, I looked at my phone and saw it was only 2:30 a.m. but I knew we had to go. I looked at Kelsey and told her we had to get back to the car. 

“Are you crazy?” She whispered. “That thing could still be out there.”

“I know that. But what if it comes back and decides to attack us or something?” 

She sighed. “You’re right. But we can’t take down the tent, we’ll have to just grab our stuff and run for it. We can come back for the tent tomorrow when it’s daylight.”

I nodded at that and began shoving things into my pack while she did the same, both of us making as little noise as possible for fear of drawing the thing back to us. Once we had all of our stuff packed, I grabbed the big flashlight we brought with us. Even if I was afraid to turn it on, it made me feel better to have the heavy flashlight in my hand as some sort of weapon. We slowly unzipped the tent and crept out into the night. 

We hadn’t made it very far when we heard the sounds of the thing following us again. Our eyes met and we started sprinting in the direction of the road. As we ran, we could hear the sounds of the creature running too. Getting louder, closer, faster. We ran as fast as we could, trying with all we had to get to the car before the thing got to us. At one point, I turned my head and caught a glimpse of its huge, red, glowing eyes, which made me run that much faster. 

It seemed like we had been running forever when we finally spotted Kelsey’s car through the trees and I couldn’t help but sob of relief when I saw it. We kept running, as she struggled to pull out her keys to hit the unlock button and once the car’s lights came on, I dared to hope that we would make it out of there okay. When we reached the car, we jumped in as quickly as we could and I locked the doors, as she fumbled to get her key in the ignition and start the car. I chanced a look out the window and saw the creature starting to emerge from the woods just as the car revved to life.

“Go go go!” I screamed as it got closer and she slammed her foot on the gas. As we sped away, I glanced back and watched as the creature stepped out onto the road then spread its wings and started flying at us. Tears filled my vision as I realized we might not make it out of this.

“Faster! It’s still following us!”

Kelsey pushed her foot down on the gas even harder and as I glanced back again, I noticed I couldn’t see the creature anymore. I let out a breath of relief and began to wipe my eyes when something large hit the roof of the car. Instantly I knew what it was and when I looked at Kelsey, I could see she did too. In that moment I came to terms with the fact that we were going to die out there on that small, back woods, country road. 

Kelsey never took her foot off the gas and drove much better than I think I could have in that position, but we could hear the sounds of metal tearing that let us know our hitchhiker was still there. 

After twenty minutes of driving at full speed down that country road with the thing on the roof, we finally turned onto the main road and shortly after, we noticed a car approaching in the other lane. Just as their headlights hit the road in front of us, we felt the car shake slightly as the creature pushed off and flew away. 

Kelsey didn’t slow down until we reached a more populated area and when we did she pulled into a gas station. We got out of the car, both shaking, and hugged each other before we turned to survey the damage done to her car. The roof of the car was covered in deep gouges, some of them bigger than my hand. 

“How are we supposed to explain that?” I asked her once I had recovered slightly from the shock and fear. Kelsey just shrugged and went into the gas station. And I knew that at least at the time it didn’t matter too much, we were alive and that’s what really mattered. 

I will never forget what happened that night or what happened the time we went back, but that’s a story for another time.

Credits to: http://goeffs-farming-and-mercantile.tumblr.com/

So something I see a lot in headcannons and fic  that I feel like a lot of people probably wouldn’t know: If at all possible, a therapist will never work with two friends/two people in a relationship/two people who even know each other well knowingly. It’s a conflict of interest, the therapist is then biased, and it could make the clients way less likely to discuss that interpersonal relationship in sessions which can become super problematic.

What’s more likely: Person A will say to their therapist “I have a friend who struggles with these issues, do you know of any colleagues that have experience with this?” and pass on the info their therapist gives them to Person B so that they can make calls and figure out what’s best for them. It’s fairly likely that they’ll try 2 or 3 therapists till they find one that clicks.

anonymous asked:

Hi Kenzi! (i hope it's okay to use your name haha) I was just wondering if you have any writing tips, because I wanna improve but I'm kinda lost on where to begin...writing is hard...

Of course! (And I actually love when you guys use my name, it feels much more personal and not like I’m just a faceless blogger throwing words at the internet.)

In general:

  • Keeping a commonplace book, which is simply a journal to write down quality writing you may find, is the best way to learn by ‘osmosis’. It’s the same idea as ‘if you want to write better, read good books’, except I like this method better because it’s more concrete, and helps you narrow in on the single best parts of a piece, rather than trying to learn from the whole. Any poems, sentences, or even entire short stories that blow you away, should be kept in a commonplace book for future reference. (I write down a lot of words I like, too: all of the words I zero in on during this Oda piece are ripped straight from my commonplace book.)
  • While reading, look for both the best and worst parts in a piece. No, I am not telling you to tear apart other people’s work, and you should not ever criticize unless someone specifically asks you what needs improving. With that said, finding weak points (and yes, we ALL have weak points) can help you avoid, or find and eliminate, those same weak points in your own writing. When you zero in on a high point, or strength, analyze what makes that part so amazing, and try to apply some of that to create high points in your own writing. 
  • Cut it out with the self-deprecation. Staying humble is important, and if you think you’re the best that’s out there, you’re never going to improve; but saying ‘omgomg this is so bad I’m the worst writer ever’ about everything you write is just as bad a stumbling block. Think of it this way; if you want to make a sculpture, you’re going to buy clay, or plaster, not solidified shit. Even if you carve something magical out of feces, it’s still going to be disgusting because it’s feces. Clay, while it might not be gorgeous at first, can be fashioned into a masterpiece. So, think of yourself as clay-maybe not the best, but not garbage, either- instead of shit-literally the worst ever- and you’ll create a positive mindset that allows for rapid improvement.
  • Keep excellent books in your writing area. When I’m feeling stuck, browsing a page or two of good writing can get the creative juices flowing.
  • Beg for constructive criticism. Does it hurt to have your writing picked apart and deemed insufficient? Absolutely. Swallow your pride, though, and ask what needs reworking, and your writing will improve by leaps and bounds.

In Actual Writing

  • Show, don’t tell. You’ve heard this billions of times, but its importance never fades. If I wanted to be told something straight up, I’d read a textbook. When writing for entertainment, you need to let the readers draw conclusions by themselves. This engages and enthralls them, and they’ll be hanging on your words. If you need help with this: scan your writing for the word ‘feel’. This is usually an indicator you’re telling. Ex: “She felt like she was going to be sick.” Yawn. Try this: “Stomach churning, she leaned against the wall, silently praying for her breakfast not to decorate the carpet.”  
  • Avoid adverbs. No, I’m not one of the ‘death to all adverbs grrrr’ people, but usually an adverb-verb pair can be swapped for a strong verb. Ex: “He laughed scornfully.” Bland, at best. Try: He scoffed, He jeered, or He derided.
  • Go into a piece assuming your reader knows nothing, but is devilishly smart. Not only will this help you avoid telling, and not showing, it also prevents from showing your hand too quickly. Picture that you’re James Moriarty, and you’re writing to Sherlock Holmes. You want to give him just enough information to play whatever game you’ve set up, but not see through and solve it without diving in. You and your readers are playing a game in which you want them to have a hundred ideas what may happen next, but never one, solid prediction. As soon as the reader figures out exactly what’s going on, you’ve lost. (This is not to recommend plot points coming out of the blue. Anything that may happen, or be important, needs to also have a set-up or it’s a cop-out. Play the ‘game’ with your readers, and play to win, but play fair.)
  • Cut out any sentences beginning with ‘There is.’ That construction breeds weak sentences, which you want to avoid with fiery passion. Other things to eschew: ambiguous subjects (i.e. it, that; use a specific object!), passive voice (’The enemy was defeated’; change to, ‘The enemy suffered defeat’), and using the same word in consecutive sentences (Mary was a cat lady. She owned many cats. Thesaurus.com is your best friend when you’re struggling with this.)

Follow these rules, and your writing will improve by leaps and bounds. Keep in mind that the number one rule, even if I didn’t get into it, is to practice, practice, practice. It’s self-explanatory enough that I don’t feel the need to elaborate.

I hope this helps, and good luck in your future writing endeavors!

Imagine the next concept is VIXX taking on the mafia concept and Hyuk is the ring leader with Hongbin as his number two and Ravi is in charge of their money. Ken is the likable guy in Hyuk’s circle who is actually an undercover cop. N is Leo’s best friend and not part of the mafia. Leo is the one trying to escape Hyuk because somehow his family got tied up in the mafia and now he has to find a way to run because he got dragged into this. 

Fight scenes and maybe some more suits too because they all look great in suits.

He’s Your Ex Husband and Him and Your Daughter Celebrate Christmas Without You: Part 2

Oh this is so bad.

Part 1

Masterlist


It’s still Christmas night. Harry, Y/n, and Tracie have all watched movies, ate junk food, and exchanged gifts until it was time for Harry and Tracie to go back to see Cara again. Y/n almost cried when Harry packed everything up to leave again. It was her first time seeing him in months and it made her miss him like crazy.

“It was fun, Y/n, thanks for letting us stop by” Harry smiles, leaning down to wrap his arms around her.

She frowns, but tries her best to hug him back as best as possible.

“No problem, it’s Christmas, I wanted you here anyway.”

She shuts herself up before she says anything else.

“And my little Tracie” Y/n laughs, bending down to smother her daughter in kisses. Tracie giggles, kicking her legs up and down in excitement, “I love you very very much, and I hope Santa didn’t let you down this year.”

Tracie beamed at her statement. 

“He treated me like a princess, mummy!!!”

Everyone laughed, but Harry said he had to leave before Cara got too lonely. It made Y/n feel like shit, she almost started crying again. She gave the two of them one last hug before she let them free.

Harry carried Tracie into the car, packing up the presents in an organized fashion before driving back to their home.

“What’s wrong, Trace?” Harry questions, watching as her eyes are fixed on her shoes, her body barely moving as he just sees her slumping in her chair.

“I don’t like the way mummy looked” She says, turning her head to look out of her window, “That’s how she looks before she cries.”

Harry feels his chest become heavier, and his breath hitches at the base of his throat. He grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. His blood begins to flow with sorrow, he can feel his veins being poisoned with it. He always hated seeing Y/n sad, because it took so much to tear her down. She was always so strong, she would brush off anything that stood in her way. It was one of his favorite things about her, how the world could be destroyed in a fraction of a second, and she’d still smile, laugh, and say “as long as I have my family”, that was always her reason for being happy. 

“Baby, can I ask you a question?” He mumbles.

His shaking fingers reach forward to lower the volume of his music, eyes darting to the rearview mirror to see Tracie playing with the velcro straps on her shoes.

“Of course, daddy.”

He gulps, eyes switching between the road and the mirror every few seconds.
“How much does mummy cry?”

“Hmmm,” Tracie hums, her pointer finger stroking her chin as she looks up, “She cries at night, when it’s bedtime. She reads me a book, kisses me, walks out, and cries a lot. It makes my heart sad.”

Harry sucks in a breath, his fingers clenching tighter, his eyes glossing heavier.

“Does she ever tell you why, babydoll?”

What a fucking stupid question, he thinks. She doesn’t need to tell anybody why she’s been crying every night. He knows damn well why she does, he didn’t have to play stupid to get answers.

“Because mummy loves you.”

He nods, lips trembling the second the words leave her mouth.

“Has she told you this?“

“Yes. But she doesn’t know it. Sometimes when I try to give her hugs I see her looking at the picture where you were holding her in her white sparkley dress. You know, the one where she looked like a princess? Sometimes she sleeps next to it a lot, and sometimes when she thinks I’m sleeping, she comes in my room to talk about you. Mumma loves you very much.”

He had no idea this was how it was. He should have known, he did divorce her, he did fall in love with someone else and throw away seven years of dating and three years of marriage, he did become distant with her once he left, but what else was he supposed to do? Live with the pain of knowing what he did to her each day? See what he caused each day of his life?

Something suddenly isn’t settling right in his stomach. It’s like his entire stomach had flipped inside out, and he swears his head twisted for a couple of seconds as well.

“But it’s Christmas.” Tracie breaks the silence, placing her American Girl Doll on her lap, “she shouldn’t be crying on Christmas.”

Harry’s lip close tight in a straight line. He suddenly feels his hands becoming cold. 

“You’re right, bubba,” Harry sighs, “you’re absolutely right.”


His bed feels cold. For the first time in nearly 8 years, his bed feels cold. Which is strange, especially since Cara’s arm is hooked around his waist and her lips are so close to his neck he feels the hot air blowing from between her lips. He tried desperately to sleep, to escape the undying feeling of grief that seems to have taken over his every move. But he can’t sleep, he can’t shut his eyes for a second without seeing Y/n’s face. God, how battered down she looked, it’s almost giving him nightmares. She basically admitted he was the reason for this. Hell, she didn’t even have to admit it for him to know. “As long as I have my family” was the reason she was the strong, happy, beautifully well put together woman he fell in love with. And now she doesn’t even have that anymore.

He sighs, rubbing the balls oh his hands against his eyes. There is still an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Even with the closure, even though he finally knows he’s wrong, even when he admitted he was wrong, that uneasy feeling never left him that night. He feels helpless, he can’t even put a single finger on what it is that’s making him all anxious and sick. 

But for some reason, his heart called for home. Even thinking about his house with Y/n warms up every bit of him and he’s not sure what it is. It’s like he needs to go home, to see his Y/n. He didn’t know whether it was just a second hand instinct to go to Y/n when he feels this unwell, or whether it was just a sign telling him to see her, but whatever it was, he didn’t ask questions. He slowly detached himself from Cara, rolling off the bed until his bare feet hit the floor. He had one of his shirts from the other night hanging on the edge of the bed, so he took it in one swift motion and out it on over his head. He already had sweatpants on, so all he had to do was put on socks and shoes before he (hopefully) was out the door before Cara would notice his absence. 

He hears Cara huff behind him, every bit of his movements stopping, sucking in his breath, praying Cara hasn’t woken up.

“Harry, where ya going’?” Cara slurs, eyes drooping as she lay half awake next to him.

Harry quietly swears, eyes shut in pain, trying to get out of this the best possible way he can.

“Something doesn’t feel right. I’m going to see Y/n, okay? I feel like something’s wrong.”

“What is it? Want me to come with you?”

He shakes his head, finally able to find the strength to cover his feet with some socks before putting on a pair of his brown boots, which are torn on the sides from all the usage, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is Y/n.

“This is something I have to do myself.” is all he says before he makes his way outside. 

Harry spent the entire ride trying to figure out exactly what he was doing. He hasn’t had a proper conversation with her in months. He has absolutely no idea what to say. “Hey, just checking up on you”? That sounds so scripted, it makes him want to cry. He almost does cry when he parks in front of Y/n’s house. It feels so strange to him, how he isn’t able to walk right in, say “home sweet home”, kiss Y/n and check on Tracie to make sure she was doing okay. The entire situation seems fucked to him. Knowing he has to knock on the door before he enters her home makes every muscle in his body clench. For the last 10 years of his life he was able to do anything with her without asking.

He somehow suddenly feels far away from her.

Harry unbuckles himself, taking a deep breath before shutting off his car. When he reaches her doorstep, the feeling in his stomach rises and spreads to every part of his body. A sense of horror rushes through him, and just like that, all he knows is that the feeling in his stomach was his sixth sense. He had only ever gotten it with Y/n, only when Y/n was in danger. He experiences this numerous times, all of which when Y/n was extremely hurt. He got the feeling even when he was miles and miles away from her, it was just one of the many ways his body connected with hers. It helped him help her so much, he could have never been more grateful for such a disgusting feeling, because he knew it derived from their love for each other. If the love wasn’t so strong he wouldn’t have sensed anything like that for her.

But now he does, that feeling is all over him and he has to stop himself from breaking at this point. 

Knocking on her door is the least of his worries when he pushes the door open so quick he could have sworn the nob fell off. However, he doesn’t look back. How the hell could he not pick up on that feeling before? He should have known the second he felt his stomach knot, but he didn’t. This is so unlike him, he was able to detect when she was in danger like it was second-hand nature. Is this who he’s become? Has he become a stranger to himself and to her? 

“Y/N!! Y/N!!” He calls out, just hoping to at least get a noise coming from her.

Silence.

“Fuck fuck fuck” he mumbles, fingers digging into his scalp so hard he almost draws blood.

He runs upstairs, because he would have seen her if she were down there. He would have at least heard her breathing, but he didn’t get a single sound, and the silence makes him think he’s acted too late. But when his feet land on the second floor, he sees fog covering the air ever so slightly. Y/n always took her showers hot, she said it made her feel relaxed, and made her muscles feel like clouds. She also loved the steam, the steam made her feel clean, she said it cleaned her lungs and made her feel so comforted. But this time, seeing the steam roll from underneath the cracks of the closed door, he knows this is so much more than a hot shower.

“Y/N!” He screams, wiggling the doorknob, only to discover that she locked it. No, oh God, no.

Harry pushes his body roughly against the door, his shoulder immediately in pain as he does so. 

“Fuck! Y/n, open the goddamn door!” He yells.

He rams the side of his body into the door again, but nothing budged. He swears under his breath, he can’t let this shit block him from saving her. It’s either he gives up on them and harms Y/n even more, or he tries to save the parts of her that’s still alive. He rams into the door again, this time knocking the lock right out, making the door swing open and land harshly against the wall.
He is suddenly extremely claustrophobic, his throat seems to be closing in on itself, lungs expanding to try and get more air inside. The steam from the hot water makes the air seem so thick, he can already feel his skin getting clammy.
He rushes to the shower, tearing the curtain nearly off the pole. He can barely make out her figure, laying in fetal position, an entire bottle of vodka held loosely in her hand, but he sees the horrifying sight. He almost pukes, his stomach turning inside out by the look of her red, blistered, naked body. 

He cries as he turns off the water, careful not to have the water touch him. When he turns it off, her weeps drown the room, which the water was clearly blocking out before.

“Baby, no” Harry whimpers, reaching out to slowly graze his fingers along her arm, careful not to hurt her.

“It hurts” Y/n whispers, the heat from the water almost creating an aftermath. The heat is rising within her, she actually feels like her skin is on fire. 

“IT’S BURNING!” Y/n sobs, the sides of her arms squeezing against her head.
Harry acts quick, making sure the handle is directly in between the hot and cold before turning the water back on. 

He leaves her at a medium temperature until he sees the redness of her skin go down and he hears her cries lessen. He turns off the water then, reaching to open the cabinet underneath the sink to grab a towel. He reaches to grab Y/n, as softly as possible, just so that he was able to sit her up. Her head rolled back, too intoxicated to move a single muscle as Harry wrapped her up.
He hasn’t stopped crying. What he just witnessed was his worst nightmare coming to life. Y/n, his Y/n, was hurting herself. She was so sad, she was depressed enough to inflict pain upon herself, to somehow escape her horrifying reality. He saw his love almost dying in front of him. He saw his love limp, battered and blistered, dazed and depressed, just letting pain happen. To see her like that, that was his biggest fear.

He growls, punching down on the ground before grabbing Y/n’s head in his hands.

“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!?!” Harry yells, keeping his grip on her head so that her dazed gaze stays focused on him.

Her eyes gloss over with tears, but she doesn’t budge to answer him. All that she process is Harry. Harry Harry Harry. Her Harry is here, holding her, with her. She can’t form a proper thought except for Harry being with her, she starts crying.

“IF I DIDN’T COME HERE YOU WOULDN’T HAVE MADE IT OUT OF THERE! WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING THROUGH YOUR MIND?! DO YOU KNOW HOW BAD YOU JUST HURT YOURSELF?!”

“I ’s puking” Y/n slurs, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, “Needed t’ clean me.”

Harry sighs, dropped her head from her hands so that he can rub his eyes. He swears, everything inside of him is breaking. His heart is shattered and all the strength he had left had turned to weakness. His body begins to shake, his hands turn to fists, and before he can stop himself, he’s letting every emotion out. He sobs, screams, hits himself until he can’t breathe. All he manages to do is hold Y/n against him, as if she is his lifeline. 

“I’m so sorry” he sobs, his face nuzzling into her neck, “I had no idea.”

Y/n frowns, but is too drunk to say much. She feels tears rolling down her cheeks. Big, fat, ugly tears pouring from her eyes. Holding Harry like this involves too much pain, it makes her want to down another bottle of vodka and smoke another pack of cigarettes. All she wants to do is feel numb again, lose every bit of emotion she’s felt just to cut herself a break. 

But all she feels now is painful, bittersweet love.

“Love you” she mumbles before she can bite her tongue. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s taken away by her words, he honestly feels like he’s just been told the greatest news of his life. Every color he sees is suddenly brighter, every doubt he has ever carried with him has vanished, and every bit of negativity he’s carried had been left aside completely, by just those words she spoke.

“Oh, Y/n”, he whispers, “I think I love you, too.”

My mind has been all over the place and my stress level is increasing. I’m trying to finish up my internship, but the struggle is real. Today, my stress got the best of me and I lost it. I was so embarrassed because I didn’t want the people around me to see me sweat or judge me. With the way my mind works, I tend to jump to negative conclusions. Which leads me to Alain regret that I recently stepped outside of my comfort zone and started up a conversation with a guy that I would like to talk to/find attractive. Now, I feel like he probably had something negative to say or didn’t really want to talk to me. Well, I was asking him all the questions! If I see him soon, I’m going to feel awkward and embarrassed, I just know it! Life, y'all!