you keep writing

Happy Birthday to my bae of life, my tumblr bestie, the ever-amazing @maiabaneway. Here’s a BatMaia drabble, dedicated to you like you requested because you deserve the world and so much more.

“Oceanography and Marine Biology. An introduction to Marine Science.”

Maia looked up from the beer she’d been building and met warm brown eyes twinkling back at her. Bat nodded as he ran his fingers over the front page of the textbook Maia had brought with her with the hope that she’d get some reading done in between her shift and be able to pull off her assignment.

She hadn’t gotten any reading done.

“I didn’t know you were a student,” Bat said.

“Yeah well. I’m taking classes online. Hopefully I’ll be able to transfer to Columbia sometime this year.” Her hand reached to self-consciously rub at the scar on her neck, but stopped when Bat’s fingers wrapped around hers, his expression one of concern, awe, and that lingering appraisal that she always skirted away from. She knew that look. Had been the recipient of that look for way too long. Except, there was something about the way Bartholomew Velasquez stared at her that made her breath catch, sent tingles down her spine and had her swallowing.

She did right then, tongue flicking out to whet her suddenly dry lips.

Bat’s eyes caught the movement and darkened, before they flickered up to meet her. And then he schooled his expression, smiled, released her hand and stepped away from the bar. “You should be proud.” At her confused expression, he nudged his chin at her textbook. “Not many people would continue with their dreams in light of…” He gestured at the Hunter’s Moon and the numerous Downworlders that filled the bar.

Something about the tone had Maia look at him sharply. She’d had that exact same expression shortly after she’d been turned. It took Luke pushing and prodding her to keep at her dreams and sign up for school. And even with that, she’d wasted months believing that her life was over and there was no way she could have a semblance of a normal life. There was no way in hell she was going to let Bat fall into that same trap. “You can have it all you know,” she murmured. Bat braced both hands on the bar and leaned forward, the scent of his sandalwood aftershave washing over her in waves. She so didn’t need to know what the man smelt like.

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To all my writers out there, particularly fanfic writers because I am one and I’m feelin this hardcore

  • It’s okay that you haven’t written for a while, you can take breaks.
  • You can start writing again whenever you want, you don’t need an excuse.
  • If you would still like an excuse, here it is: I want you to start again, you should totally do it.
  • It’s ok if you’re out of practice, you’ll pick up traction again.
  • We’re all learners and its good to have role models, but try to be better than the writer were before, and try less to be ‘as good as’ someone else.
  • It’s alright to abandon a piece if you have no enthusiasm or passion left for it.
  • It’s okay to be needlessly dramatic.
  • It’s okay to be needlessly ridiculous.
  • Write the crackfic, write the rarepair, or write the popular pair. Write what you want to write.
  • Yes someone has probably written this scene before.
  • Write it anyway if you want to write it.
  • Yeah that trope has probably been done a million times.
  • Use it anyway if you want to use it.
  • Probably there are people who are tired of reading about that AU.
  • Write it anyway, they don’t have to read it.
  • Respect your audience, but don’t let other people dictate what you create.
  • Reblog your own work. Be proud of it. You deserve to pat yourself on the back.
  • I’m proud of you, you’re doing great.
  • Keep writing, keep making stuff. People will care. 
  • Future you will especially care.
To the people who write hundreds of chapters for their stories and get no reviews:

Originally posted by realitytvgifs

Originally posted by gameraboy

Originally posted by allreactions

Originally posted by allreactions

Originally posted by my-harry-potter-generation

Originally posted by karenhurley

Originally posted by you-wanna-kiss-the-girl

Originally posted by gameraboy

Originally posted by kinggregree

I should’ve known you didn’t love me back
because you only called me when you were lonely
and your kisses always tasted like vodka
rather than love unlike mine which was always so full of it

but i was too engrossed in the way
your hands felt in mine
to ever really get a chance
to open my fucking eyes and see
that i wasn’t the only one
you wanted to hold
hands with

i should’ve known you didn’t love me back
when i woke up that night alone
with a text message saying you had somewhere else to be
leaving me feeling empty and used

i guess that place was in her bed rather
than mine
and i shouldn’t be bitter
because you weren’t mine to begin with
and i saw it coming from a mile away

when you said you loved me
not looking me in the eye
ripping apart my fucking chest
right there as if you didn’t even know what you were doing
in that very moment

and i should’ve known i should’ve known i should’ve known you didn’t love me back

—  A.M// I hate that I didn’t figure it out sooner enough
Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.
—  Ira Glass
Post-BatB headcanons

- Adam gets Belle anything she wants. Literally. Anything. One time she offhandedly mentioned she liked art and he bought her the fucking Louvre.

- When Belle tells Adam she’s going to have a baby he acts all calm and collected for about five seconds. He then starts sweating profusely and runs away screaming. 

- Belle and the servants are very quick to convince him that he’ll be a great father, despite his own. In the end it only takes them half an hour to convince him to come out from under the dining table.

- The first time Adam holds his newborn daughter in his arms he cries. He never thought he could love someone more than Belle. They name her after their mothers (no, none of that weird Twilight combo name shit).

- LeFou and Stanley come over to the castle every Sunday for dinner. 

- Anytime Adam sees the Enchantress he hides behind Belle. It’s somewhat ineffective. 

- Mrs. Potts tells Belle horribly embarrassing stories about Adam from when he was younger. Whenever Belle laughs at him he calmly reminds her that she fell in love with a giant, talking buffalo.

- Maurice teaches his granddaughter how to ride a horse, just as he taught Belle. Adam fallows behind, arms out, just in case she falls. She, of course, never does.

- The second time Belle tells Adam she’s going to have a baby it only takes them twenty minutes to get him out from under the table.

I’m keeping you. We may not talk as much as I like but I understand that we are both hustling to better ourselves and our lives. When we do get a chance to talk you really do know how to make me laugh. Not just any laugh though, it’s the laugh where I throw my head back and I snort so loud that I keep laughing. I don’t care how busy life gets, I always want you in my life. I’m keeping you.
—  The Khool Haus
I just want to get out of here. I want to call you and tell you everything that’s wrong and i want you to tell me that its going to be okay. I need you to tell me its going to be okay.
Keeping Your End of the Bargain

I promised I’d give you all another Dark fic when we reached our next milestone, and I always keep my promises. 

Just a quick warning- this is not fluff. It’s not romance. It’s not a sympathetic portrayal. This man is a manipulator, a good one, and he does what he does to further his own interests. He enjoys control, not company. And, to use Mark’s own words:

He is not here to help you. He is here to use you.

Enjoy.

Originally posted by wrcngchcice


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whoops, my hand slipped and here is a much more fic-like set of bullet points that i don’t have to heart to actually turn into a fic. part of a trilogy it seems. parts one, two, THREE (this one!), four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.

  • something to know about michelle: she’s very good at keeping secrets
  • once, when she was eight years old, her older brother broke the brand new watch his parents had gotten him for christmas. he begged her not to tell anyone, most especially their parents or her four year old sister who would undoubtedly tattle to their parents. she never spoke a word of it to anyone and helped him fix it as best they could so that her parents never found out.
  • then, when she was eleven, she had the biggest crush on this one girl in her class, layla. and one day, one of her best friends alex told her that he had a crush on layla. so she never spoke a word of her crush, nor of alex’s, to anyone. that is, until one day alex and layla walked around the playground at lunch time holding hands and told everyone they were now dating.
  • and then after she moved to new york, spent the year trying to find a place for herself, and then finally found and joined academic decathlon, she met peter parker and liz allan. and she knew immediately that peter parker liked liz. he always stared at her during practice and smiled at her whenever she glanced at him. she heard him talking about her at lunch. everyone knew that peter had a crush on liz. but one day after practice, she was in the bathroom stall when liz and her friend betty walked into the restoom, chatting.
  • “oh my goodness I can’t believe you have a crush on that freshman.” betty scoffed. “really liz, like half the junior class is in love with you and you’ve got heart eyes for the scrawny kid from, what is it, queens?”
  • “he’s really sweet!” liz laughed. “I think he’s really cute. he’s always nice to me. can’t I like someone who also likes me? is that really a crime?”
  • “of course not.” betty sighed. “I’m just saying. he’s a freshman, you’re a junior. in two years, you’ll be going to college and he will still be here. do you really want that?”
  • “I don’t know.” liz replied, pausing for a while before michelle heard the sink start to run water. “peter is really sweet and smart. i’d like to see what could happen.”
  • “fine, fine.” betty laughs. “but don’t wait for that boy to ask you out because he seems shocked every time you even look his way.” they both laugh and with that, walk out of the bathroom.
  • michelle never spoke of that incident to anyone either. so, she’s good at keeping quiet when she needs to be. which is why she never tells peter that she knows. knows that he spends his time stopping bank robberies, muggings, and helping old ladies cross the street. knows that he saved her friends in washington dc. knows that he’s the reason liz’s dad went to prison and she had to move to oregon. she doesn’t tell anyone this. not even peter.

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You can hear it in the silence

Sometime in 8th year…

Harry isn’t exactly sure what to think at first.

There are glances across the room. Like nothing has changed. Like everything has changed.

It feels familiar and yet… new.

It confuses him.

It’s not like the hate is suddenly gone. Harry still feels it whenever he looks at him. But it’s different now.

He can’t really describe it. He has tried several times. Ron and Hermione have asked him about it. They’ve noticed something is “off”, as they call it.

“It’s not that we’re not glad you aren’t fighting anymore. There’s been enough fighting,” Hermione had said.

“Yeah, it’s just… weird, you know. Now you’re just staring at each other,” Ron  had added.

Harry sighs as he tries to remember what he told them. It was probably something vague. Because… what Ron and Hermione don’t know… Harry has been meeting him. At night. In secret. They would just sit together and talk. But, Harry supposes, not like other people would.

They each take turns talking, while the other listens. Just listens. There are no interruptions, no judgement. They just each let the other talk. It’s been weirdly therapeutic. And also soothing.

Yesterday was Harry’s turn and after talking about his godson and Quidditch and classes, he also recounted one of his nightmares. He never talks about them with anyone. He doesn’t want to hear what they mean or that maybe he should see a mind healer. He knows perfectly well what they mean. So, simply talking about it, having the opportunity to get it out in the open and out of his system… it’s freeing. Harry also never appreciated before, how much it means when somebody listens, really just listens to him. It is a whole new experience.

As Harry makes his way to the tower nobody wants to go to anymore, he wonders what he will talk about tonight. Sometimes he talks about his mother. Never about his father. Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all and they just sit there in silence. At first, Harry thought this was a waste of time. But it was in that silence, he realized that something really is different between them. It’s as if something between them has… shifted.

So when Harry sees Draco enter the tower, his body doesn’t go rigid. It relaxes. When Draco sits down beside him and their fingers touch, Harry doesn’t pull away. He welcomes the warmth. When Draco doesn’t say anything, Harry isn’t annoyed. He understands.

It’s in that moment, as Draco lays his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry puts an arm around his waist, that he knows. He never thought he could be this sure. But he is. He knows.

He’s in love.

And it makes him smile.

i still can’t believe little percy kept a photo of annabeth in his notebook to look at whenever he missed camp - even though the photo was of just annabeth, and not even at camp

i want every creator that doesn’t have a circle of friends to help spread their work to know i’m rooting for you. 

i know you’re too shy reach out, you’re too busy to make the connections, you just want to share your hard work, you want your work to stand on its own without politics and favoritism to sway opinions. 

i also know you feel really alone most days. 

try to remember your work is valid. it is good. it is worthy. 

please don’t stop. 

they might have “popularity” but you have something far more important: talent, skill, passion, and beauty. the truly gifted creators were never recognized during their time. the popular ones are all but forgotten now. 

please don’t stop creating. you are amazing.

you have to fall in love with the things around you because when its 3am and you’re up crying alone, giving up all hope. sometimes the only thing that’s gonna keep you here is the stars. and that is enough.
—  you don’t always need a grand reason to stay, let the small things be enough.