your perfection is too much

i lost my voice for a week & nobody noticed because i never freaking talk
7 Reasons Why

So…. I am currently watching the new tv show “13 Reasons Why” and my mind decided to make a tragically-beautiful connection tooooo can you guess what?? YUP LANCE!! So here are my thoughts once again… hope you enjoy and feel free to comment any other ideas!!
*NOTE* I’m lowkey crying as I’m writing this. My heart isn’t okay. I’m not okay, okay?? *MORE NOTES* So this came out kinda different than the show/book but i hope yall kinda get the idea

  • Lance was dead. Had committed suicide to be exact. And he left his story behind.
  • The tapes appeared from nowhere. No one knew where they came from or where they disappeared to. No one knew that the tapes contained so much in such a small amount of time. No one knew that these tapes would become an ugly part of them.
  • “Hello space pals and gals. Lance McClain (KINDA LOVE THIS LAST NAME) here. Live and in stereo.”
  • Lance starts off by explaining his “7 Reasons Why” (hahaha get it? Cuz he’s the seventh wheel?? *cries*) he committed suicide and his two rules.
    • “Rule number one. You must listen to the tapes. I’m not gonna lie. This is going to be hard to do but you MUST LISTEN.”
    • “Rule number two. When you are done, you must leave them where you found them. And if you, oh lets say, decide to throw them away, tsk tsk tsk…. bad things will happen.”
  • “First and foremost, our mighty and heroic leader, Shiro.”
    • “I wasn’t good enought to be praised by you.” Lance explains that Shiro was a good leader, a great leader one might say. Unreplacable, “unlike me.” So why was it that he never told Lance “great job” or “thanks for the help.” Why did he alway care so much for Keith? Told him “great job out there” and patted him on the back after every battle. Why did he always take his side even when he was in the wrong? Why did he treat Pidge like a little sister? Always taking care of them and making sure they were getting enough sleep. Always being so nice and caring to both. “You were always my hero but why did you not act like it?” He never payed attention when Lance didnt get enough sleep or didnt eat or was sick. Always making him work and train. Always pointing out his flaws without helping him improve them. “Why, Shiro, did you not care for me?”
  • “Can you guess our number two?? Well, I’ll give you a hint. It’s not me this time. *laughs* First time being number two, our excellent number one paladin, Keith!”
    • “Keith my man, I loved you.” (Klangst? WHY TF NOT?!?) Lance always loved Keith, always looked up to him too. He loved to joke around with him, loved to rile him up, loved to bicker with him because thats how he got to talk to him. He knew that they were playing around so why did it hurt so much? “Why Keith, did you always tell me I wasn’t good enough?” Always telling him to leave you alone, always “you’re annoying me” and never “please stay.” Keith always reminded Lance that he was never good enough, never up to his level, never realizing how lance felt. But how could Lance blame him? However, sometimes Keith, you, took it to far to the point where my heart was too broken to put back together. “I’ve always loved you but you made it so easy to hate you, too.”
  • “My favorite green paladin, my little space sister (female pronouns for this), my gaming buddy, Pidge.”
    • “Pidge, did you even ever realize that I saw you as my sister?” Lance saw his little sister in Pidge. He always, like Shiro, did his best to make sure they stayed healthy. He was always fussing over her eating and sleeping habits. So why did she never appreciate him? “Pidge, you never even said thanks you.” Lance just wanted to be a brother to her. So why did she make him a disposable replacement for her missing brother? Always using him when necessary and then throwing him away when it got too much for her? “Leave me alone Lance. Im working.” Pidge sometimes said really hurtful comments to Lance and she never let him help her because why would she let someone “annoying” help? In, reality Pidge was his sister but according to Pidge, “You are not my brother, Lance. Matt is.”
  • “Hunk, my precious beautiful friend. You did nothing wrong but you also did nothing at all.”
    • “Where to start?” Hunk had always been Lance’s best friend but after Voltron things changed. “I noticed that you and Pidge would hang out together, without me.” Lance just wants to be part of their group again. He tried so hard so join, to contribute, to help. But all he got was “you’re distracting us.” Although they didn’t hang out as much, Hunk was the first one to realize that something was wrong with Lance. “You left me alone.” Hunk saw him getting worse and changing throughout the days. He saw but didn’t do anything. “Hunk, why did you not do anything, if you noticed?” Lance wondered why Hunk left him by himself, why he didn’t try to reach out to him, why he didn’t invite him over, why didn’t he? “You could have helped but you didn’t.”
  • “Our beautiful space princess who will save the universe without moi, Allura.”
    • “Sometimes, your pushing for perfection was too much, not just for me but for everyone.” Lance always felt like the odd one out. Everyone was good at something but he never had a “thing” and Allura’s nagging didn’t help. “Keep up Lance!” Keep up with Keith in the training stimulator. Keep up with Pidge’s new machinery. Keep up with Shiro’s battle plans. Keep up with Hunk’s nee inventions. Keep up. “Again.” No matter how hard Lance tried, Allura was never satisfied. Never complementing him, never saying “good job,” never letting him rest, never telling he was good enough. “Why, Allura, did you never see how hard I was trying?”
  • “Lets talk about our seventh wheel, our number one *snickers* sharpshooter, Me! Lance!”
    • “In my opinion, I was the number one at fault for this occurrence.” Lance hated himself. He hated himself for feeling jealous, angry, sad, homesick, depressed. “I just wanted to be like the rest of you all.” Lance wanted to be as good as Keith and as strong as Shiro. He wanted to be as nice and comforting as Hunk. Wanted to be as smart as Pidge and as powerful as Allura. “I wish I wasn’t so selfish.” Lance thought he was selfish. He wished to get “thanks you’s” from the rest. Wished he get praised from Shiro and Allura. Wished Keith would feel the same way. Wished he was home with his famiy. He wished and wished and he hated it. “I wished I was home.”
  • “My favorite alien, Coran, the one who took care of me and who noticed me struggling. Yes, he tried to help but I guess it wasn’t enough since I’m dead now.”
    • “You let me walk away.” Coran tried helping Lance in his own way. But how could an alien understand some Earthly emotions? “We talked but sometimes it was just you talking.” Coran tried to get Lance to open up to him but failed. He always cut off Lance with his own stories so he never let Lance say what was bothering him. “Coran, you were like an uncle to me.” Coran reminded Lance of his uncle and it kinda hurt him. He was constantly reminded of his family whenever he was with Coran. This made his emotions even worse when he talked to Coran because sometimes Coran didn’t understand him. The day Lance died, Coran had told him to just “move on.” Lance just got up and left but he secretly hoped that Coran would come after him. He didn’t. “You wanted me to move on from this and I did.”
  • “I’m sorry.”

@bluchupikaboo submitted:

“I had a picture to give you, but I’m so bad and then kei happened and now I’m going to flee.”


SpockFact #92

Uhura often recieves questions about her make up from the crew. One day she decided to give a class about it and almost everyone attended. Jim learned how to contour, Sulu how to keep his eye shadow on point and the crew how to cut a bitch with eyeliner. It quickly became apparent that there was nothing she could teach Spock that he didn’t already know.

(adapted from a prompt by anon)

Fluffy boyfriends going to see the cherry trees together :’)

(still love that Atsushi’s kimono its purple 💜)

Edit: tysm to @freezingdreamer for the precious fic Linked Hands! ;-;

That voiceover by Hubby #2 gave me goosebumps, so quick reminders

- Michael never manipulated anyone into doing anything they didn’t want to do. What he manipulated was the outcome of what they did. 

- Michael never pretended to like anyone he abhorred, no matter what he needed from them. Not for one second did he pretend to have a pinch of respect for T-Bag or Bellick or Abbruzzi or Tweener. 

- Michael cared deeply – for people, not about winning. When he cried over Westmoreland dying, that wasn’t manipulation (in fact he almost put his own escape in jeopardy). When he tried to save that guard’s life, he wasn’t manipulating anyone (again, in fact, putting their escape in jeopardy). When he let Tweener into their escape plan, it wasn’t because it would benefit him (it actually harmed the escape), it was because he felt guilty. When he saved Sara’s life during the riot and almost got himself killed, it was because he cared for her.

- Michael struggled to or straight up refused to manipulate those he cared for deeply. He gave Westmoreland the cat with no strings attached except hope (Westmoreland ultimately decided to help because of his daughter). He could’ve taken the keys from Sara when he kissed her but he didn’t because he couldn’t. He couldn’t disguise a real kiss as manipulation.

- When Michael asked her to leave that door open, it was out of desperation. It wasn’t manipulation because he knew she liked him enough to do so – his real manipulation had already failed and this was all he had left.

What the show is trying to do is very clever – trying to make us believe that Michael is a genius sociopath, really – but let’s not forget that we know better. There is no one who feels more deeply; no one whose motivations and intentions are purer. He was not cold, he was not two-faced; he was not obsessed with winning

He may have changed in the meantime but back then, when Sarah knew him, he was nothing like the man Jacob was describing.

Princess - Chapter 1


Group/Member: BTS // Yoongi

Genre: ? vampire!au

Word count: 1150

Summary: You are in the royal family, one night you walk around the big castle looking for your book. That’s when you meet him. Yoongi.

Originally posted by minyoongiaesthetic

You were the princess, living the perfect life with your oh so perfect family. It made you laugh every time you heard people outside of the castle talk about how perfect the royal family was, because you knew that your family was far from perfect. Your parents never liked you, they said you were too much of a rebel, that you weren’t ladylike and too childish. Your brother was a nice man, but the moment he turned 26 he totally changed. He became more like dad and he would tell you to grow up too, and that if you didn’t you would never get married. But you never cared about that, because you knew you wouldn’t get a word in who you were going to marry anyways.

 You sat around the dinner table as your mother was talking about some of your cousins getting married, while your father was telling your brother about the deal he had made with the vampires. Yeah you heard right, vampires. It’s official now, they’re real.

 You walked down the hall looking for your favorite book, which usually was hidden under your pillow, as you knew your mother hated that book. For some reason she didn’t like anything about you. You walked up one of the towers, thinking that she might have hidden it in one of the guest rooms at the top of the castle. You ran up all the stairs, trying desperately to catch your breath when you reached the top. You looked at the wooden door in front of you and pushed it open. The room was dark, only the moon lightning up the big room. There was a king sized bed under the window, a big bookshelf and a wooden piano. You looked around and walked over to the bookshelf when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. “Excuse me”, you heard a soft voice behind you. You slowly turned around looking at the porcelain pale man with dark hair in front of you. “W-who are you?” You asked grabbing a book nearby, just in case. “Yoongi”, he answered shortly sitting down on the bed. “May I ask what you’re doing up here at midnight?” He waited for an answer, his dark eyes looking you up and down. Your hands tightened around the book you were holding. “I’m looking for my book, now why are you here… Yoongi?” You asked him. He smirked. “Oh, I thought you knew? Guess you will have to find that out yourself, beautiful” He stood up walking over to you slowly. You held your breath. What is he doing? When he was only a few inches away from you he grabbed the book you were holding replacing it with another one.  “I believe this is the one you’re looking for” he smiled down at you. His white teeth shining in the dark as he looked at door, you could only for a millisecond see some fangs as his smiled disappeared. “That’s an unusual book for a princess to read”, he said, looking at your flustered face again. He turned around grabbing a book himself and laid down on the bed. You still shocked of what just happened, just stood there at the exact same place just staring at the handsome man. “You better go to bed, princess. You’re quite the rebel I’ve heard, don’t want someone to find out you’re up here”, He told you his eyes focused on the book he started reading. You looked at him one last time and ran downstairs and into your bedroom. You jumped into your bed staring at the ceiling. “What just happened?” You asked yourself, taking a big breath out.

 You woke up the next morning still in the same clothes as yesterday, you must’ve fallen asleep as soon as you laid down. You sat up looking to your side, picking up the book beside you. You looked at the cover thinking about what happened last night. After some minutes of being lost in your own thoughts you went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. The breakfast table was quiet as always, your dad leaving first for a meeting, your brother leaving second to meet his future wife and your mother leaving after that to do some talking with the new maids in the house. You sat alone at the big table, realizing how alone you actually were. You’ve never had a friend, well you had the maids, but you couldn’t exactly say you were friends. Some of them were just nicer than others, you liked to think that was because they liked you too, but most of the time it was only in hopes of getting some more money. You let your thoughts drift as they landed on the man from yesterday… Yoongi, a vampire, a handsome vampire you thought as you felt your cheeks burn. Ok, no stop it, you told yourself as you got up to leave.

 It was starting to darken outside and you decided to go for a walk around the castle. You threw on a big black coat as you ran out the door. The garden at the back of the castle was huge, so you decided to walk there for a bit. It was chilly outside as the stars were now shining beside the full moon. The sky was dark blue and you sat down on the white bench under the old tree. You took out your little journal that was hidden in your pocket and started writing. “So I guess I’m the handsome man, huh?” You heard a familiar voice behind you. You jumped closing the journal as fast as you could. “You scared me!” You shouted holding the journal to your chest. “I’m sorry, princess”, the man chuckled and sat down beside you. “What do you want? Yoongi?” You said rolling your eyes. Your heart was beating fast by the fact that he was sitting so close, but you took your eyes away from him trying to calm yourself. “Wow, I’m impressed” He smirked down at you. “Usually people are scared of a vampire being so close”, He turned around looking out at the beautiful garden. “I’m not scared of anything”, you simply answered with a huff. “I like you princess, you’re interesting. I don’t usually like people” Yoongi told you, as he stood up. “Why am I so interesting?” You asked, looking at his face again. He looked at moon before he said, “You’re different”, and then he walked away. You looked at his figure becoming smaller and smaller as he walked towards the castle. Your eyes fell on your lap as you opened your journal finding a piece of paper on the side you were just writing on. When did that come there? You asked yourself. You opened the piece of paper and started reading “Looking forward to see you more often, princess” What?

Note: I’m sorry for being inactive with the fanfics, but more will be coming this week. Also sorry that not much happened in this chapter, but more will happen later on, I hope you liked it and sorry if my writing/english isn’t that good, I’m trying :)


Strictly Professional (Part 1)

Summary: You’ve been Misha’s publicist and personal assistant for the past two years, and despite being in love with him, you have a strictly professional relationship with him. At least that’s what you tell yourself. (again, I’m the worst at summaries sry bout it)

Pairing: Misha x Publicist/PA!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k 

Warnings: language, kissing, maybe slight angst? ish? and a cliffhanger bc im the worst 0:-)


Strictly Professional Masterlist

Originally posted by timetraveldean

“Have you seen Misha?!” you demanded, out of breath from running around the entire damn hotel trying to find the one man you were responsible for.

The convention volunteer put her hands up in defense, the look on her face seeming to say ‘I have no idea, please don’t hurt me’.

Keep reading

[Overwatch] Jesse McCree x Reader - Misunderstood

The night was cold. It was the kind of cold that made you shiver and numbed your fingers within a few minutes. The moon overhead cast a silver glow through the light fog that settled around the base like a bride’s veil. It would disappear later, but for now, it would suffice as the perfect hiding spot for your shivering form.

Tonight had been too much for you.

Jesse had invited you to his room to have a couple of drinks earlier, but a “couple” of drinks soon turned into a mess, leaving the both of you more than a little tipsy.

What had started as playful teasing, violent bouts of laughter, and friendly jabs at each other with Jesse slowly dissolved into something more sultry. The tension between you both had changed from playful to something thick and heavy, settling over the two of you like a comforter. Jesse’s touches started to linger longer on your skin, the whispers dangerously close to your throat.

With a quiet “I love you”, Jesse’s lips had grazed along your jaw.

You froze. The very next thing that came to your mind was run, and run you did.

You sprinted outside the Watchpoint to the cliff overlooking the ocean before sitting down on the edge. The fog clung to your jeans, making them feel cold and heavy. Jesse was still in the base, probably confused as to why you ran away. You couldn’t face him again so soon, but it wasn’t like you could just walk away and pretend it had never happened. You’d have to face this problem at some point - no. Jesse could never be a problem. It was more of… your current situation with him. That was the problem.

You took a deep breath before letting it out with a sigh, pushing back your thoughts with feeling of the the chilly air entering your nose. You balled your hands into fists in a desperate attempt for warmth, but it had no effect. You badly wanted to wrap Jesse’s red serape around your shoulders tighter around you, but the serape belonged to him- and anyway, it wasn’t like you could take it off. You would freeze, even if you were used to the cold. Just half an hour ago, it brought comfort and safety. Now, it felt like a straitjacket. Breathe, you tell yourself. Let your thoughts settle down for a moment. Think.

As much as you didn’t want to think about tonight, you’d have to. It was no use having it sit in the back of your mind for ages.

A minute passes in internal conflict. You’d never would feel the end of your guilt if you left now. Jesse had done nothing wrong besides misinterpret the mood. You, who often prided yourself on the little signs of Jesse’s mood - the telltale tapping of his fingers when he was nervous, when he stuttered when he was flustered - had completely overlooked the way his voice became a husky whisper whenever he spoke to you, and the constant comments of praise and encouragement.

Of course you had taken it as a joke, because that’s all you ever did with each other - poke and push each other’s buttons until something snapped. Your breath hitches when you finally realized. You had taken Jesse’s love as a joke.

Slowly, you stand up with a final decision in mind. You knew what you had to do. You re-enter the base and make your way to Jesse’s room, revealing Jesse slouched over on the crouch, face hidden in his hands. He stiffens up at the sound of your soft footsteps.

“Look, I’m-” Jesse cuts his sentence off with a curse before starting again. “[Name], I didn’t mean to- I fucked up, okay?”

Your heart breaks at the expression Jesse wears. He looks genuinely guilty, almost pleading for your forgiveness. “Jesse,” You begin, voice hushed.

Another step closer makes Jesse shoot up, lips pressed together in uncertainty. “Darlin’, look. I misread the mood. You don’t like me the way I thought you did.” Jesse says, making a move to leave.

You take another two steps forward, blocking Jesse’s way. “Jesse. Listen to me.”

Jesse sidesteps you, but before he was able to leave, you wrapped your arms around him. He’s so warm in your freezing arms, and you can’t help but nuzzle your nose a bit into Jesse’s chest. His body is stiff against yours, not responding to any of your affections. “Jesse, it’s okay,” You whisper. “It really is.”

At this, Jesse finally wraps his arms around you. “I don’t get it,” he mutters, uncertainty laced his voice. “Ya ran out after I did that, and now it’s okay?”

“I was wrong,” You replied sheepishly, gently pushing Jesse off of you. He lets go, but still keeps a tight hold around your arm. “I didn’t realize what you wanted - I was a bit late on noticing.”

“A bit?” Jesse repeats, incredulous.

“Okay, maybe not a bit.” You admit. “I’m sorry, Jesse.”

“[Name], it’s fine, it’s just… Are you sure? Are you sure you’re okay with this?” “Yes, Jesse, I’m positive.” You assure, putting emphasis on the first word.

“You know, I was serious when I said I loved you.” Jesse murmurs.

“I…” You started, but you hesitated before you finished your sentence. Should you say it?

In a split second, you made your decision.

“I love you too, Jesse.”


Allen Ginsberg reads his poem America

by Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997)

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
When will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Christs?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When will you re-invent the heart?
When will you manufacture land?
When will your cowboys read Spengler?
When will your dams release the floods of eastern tears?
When will your technicians get drunk and abolish money?
When will you institute religions of perception in your legislature?
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
I don’t want to die young.
I want to die old and unhappy.
I don’t mind dying so long as it’s not sordid.
Now Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of playing a practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
America I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get - only two dollars and twenty-seven cents.
I don’t want to work, maybe too good looking for the job.
I can’t study anymore. I’ll never teach for a living.
I sit in my house for days on end without going out.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
The American flag is absolutely meaningless to me still just as it was in the thirties.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia.
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I pass the corner of North West Street and Montgomery Street.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
Time Magazine is always telling me about responsibility.
Businessmen are serious.
Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two sticks of marijuana, millions of genitals, an atom bomb, twothousandfivehundred mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in my flowerpots.
I have very few bordellos and that’s all there is.
I have abolished the whorehouses in France and Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his automobiles more so they’re all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes at $2,500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe as trade in and the rest of your life to pay.
America free Tom Mooney.
America save the Spanish Loyalists.
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die.
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven my mother took me to a Communist Cell meeting they sold us bubkes, a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me cry I once saw Border plain.
Everybody must have been a spy.
America you don’re really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia’s power mad. The Russia wants to eat us alive. She wants to take our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to take our factories.
Her wants to corrupt our college girls.
Her wants to put us all in slave labor camps.
Her wants to emaciate us like skeletons.
Her wants Malenko or Buganin or somebody to be our boss.
Her wants to dictify us.
Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Hah. Him need niggers. Huh. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from reading the newspapers.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

anonymous asked:

I don't know if this has been asked before, but do you have specific schedule for when you update you mafia AU? ^^ (also, I love your comic soo much, ugh!! It's too perfect)

Good question :D
I do not have a set schedule o3o
Currently I am busy with work and school, so, I kinda just get stuff done when I am able XD
this week I have two exams, so, I will probably not have the next installment up for a few more days :O
Very happy that you enjoy the comic so much!!


This is the third and last of the fics I wrote for the Destiel Secret Santa Challenge 2016. My recipient wanted Misunderstandings, Angst and Jealous/Possesive!Dean.  

Unfortunately, she dropped out at the last second, so I dedicated it to the pinch hitters and mods of the challenge instead. 

All my love and thanks to @museaway, who beta-read for me despite the holiday rush. 

And a special shout out to @wanderingcas, who read this multiple times and helped me frame it properly. 

Title: Islands

Word Count: 8476

Rating: M (this is just to be safe)

Summary: “I’m sorry.”

It takes all of a week of Cas pretending Dean doesn’t exist for him to cave in.

“It’s fine, Dean.” Cas says frostily, pulling on his jacket with a sharp tug. He doesn’t even bother to look at Dean. “Don’t wait up.”

He doesn’t come home for dinner that night. Or the next. Or on any night for the next two weeks.

Read on AO3, or click for more. (But be warned, it’s long!)

Keep reading

How to write realistic dialogues

Writing dialogues feels a lot like those dreams in which you are trying to run away from a monster, but your feet are tied, or moving in slow motion. It’s frustrating. Most of the time, writing dialogues feels unrealistic, passive and uncomfortable.

Originally posted by tomivillamil

So, here are new approaches you can try while writing conversations:

- Write long dialogues: People talk a lot and all the time. Communication and body language is what tie us together. So, while writing, allow yourself to flow with the conversation, don’t go for short and impacting phrases. The more you write, the more realistic it will sound. You can always polish your dialogues later, for now, just write like every character has the world to say.

Originally posted by meme4u

- Read out loud: While editing, read your dialogues out loud. If it sounds strange, change it. Follow your instinct. You can even try acting like your character, getting into the emotion of the scene. Acting will help you improve the dialogue like nothing else. This is your time to use your acting abilities.

Originally posted by j-u-s-t-alittle-b-i-t

- Record: If you have trouble writing dialogues out of the blue, record yourself speaking as if you were those characters. Immerse in the scene.

Originally posted by akamesenpaii

- Allow the magic: Don’t worry about getting the dialogue or the characters’ personality on point. Characters’ speaking habits will appear on it’s own if you allow it to happen. Allow. Allowing is the most important aspect of writing. If you are trying to take the control over the dialogue or the story in general, all characters will speak like you and act like you. Allow the magic to happen. Allow characters to speak their mind and take their own decisions, not what you would do in their shoes. Allow magic to happen.

Originally posted by anamartinezl1

- First draft: Don’t worry about writing a good first draft. Don’t worry about writing a good dialogue. Maybe whole segments of dialogue will be deleted during the editing. Nothing is for sure yet. So, write the first thing that comes to mind. Really. The first thing. Don’t worry too much. Your job is not to be perfect, but to put down in words the story you have in mind. Your job is not to write the perfect dialogue, but to put down in words what a character wants to say. There’s no right or wrong.

Originally posted by bob---ross

- Cover your screen: Most of us have trouble with editing while writing, especially with dialogues. We want to be perfect at every moment of the process. We write the first phrase, reread it, erase it, rewrite it, reread it… your soul is not writing the book. Your inner critic is. To disarm my inner critic, sometimes I take extreme measures. I cover my notebook screen. As I write in the dark, I have nothing else to do but get my mind focused on creating.

Originally posted by cutestcorner

I hope this post helps you somehow. :D

not-just-any-fangirl  asked:

Ok so like I literally just reblogged everything from your shoppers au bcus it was all perfection and if it wouldn't be too much bother I'd die to know what Pidge and Hunk get up to like those two are horrible together and I nEED TO KNOW THESE TWO DORKS (tbh I see them like fucking hardwiring something ((probs the cosmetics cash)) to fuck with Lance so like it somehow makes a screaming sound every time it opened) (((Pidges idea but who was Hunk to say no?)))


unfortunately, the jobs pidge and hunk have wouldn’t give them much time to interact with each other, because they’re both in different areas of the store, buuuuut there are some rare times they could team up to mess around:

  • hunk will be working in the incontinence (which is at the end of the aisle right before cosmetics) and he’ll see lance standing there bored, resting his chin on his hand kinda out of it looking towards where keith is restocking the little candy racks at the front
  • and hunk will sneak into the pharmacy (behind incontinence) and call pidge and say “hey… go accidentally drop something so keith has to pick it up” and pidge is like “…..why the fuck would i do that” and hunk’s like (fondly) “to fuck with the most lovestruck moron in the world” and pidge is like “COPY THAT IM ON IT”
  • so they do
  • and they’re like “oooOOOooh noo!! im sorry keith!!” and keith is like “it’s fine i do it all the time!!” and bends over to pick it up
  • lance on the other side of the store chokes on his spit and has to crouch down and hide behind the counter to die in peace
  • another time pidge and hunk take turns paging “lance call (extension)” and they’ll just play “never gonna give you up” every time and lance falls for it EVERY. TIME.
  • they’ll also team up and pidge is like “hey hunk can u bring this paperwork to lance for me?” and it’s not actually paperwork it’s printed vintage memes like ORLY? owl and doge and rage faces

and since i have to fuck with keith, too:

  • when its really busy at the front and the cashiers are swamped, they’ll page a merchandiser (hunk) for backup and the merchandiser will go on the “floater” cash, which is just the one anyone can sign onto. 
  • one time when pidge and keith are working the close shift and it gets busy keith pages for backup, and hunk comes on over and signs into the floater cash (across from keith)
  • once it dies down hunk has to get back to work, but sometimes he’ll stick around and chat, and he and pidge will usually find some way to fluster keith (he’s just standing there trying to live his life…) 
  • like maybe hunk will crane his neck and look over towards the cosmetics department and be like “oh it looks like lance tried that new dark red permanent lipstick that just came in, he told me it doesnt smudge or come off no matter WHAT you do (read: pidge is seductively wiggling their brows as hunk is saying this) isn’t that neat?” 
  • and keith dies
  • rip keith kogane 

Originally posted by sam-and-dean-winchesters

Characters: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2315

Summary: Dean finds the reader with the Supernatural books.

Warnings: Smut, Slight Angst, Some Fluff, Unprotected Sex, Slight Pain!kink, Angry!Dean, Swearing

A/N: This is the last installment for this series, Jealousy/Acceptance.  Hope it isn’t too strange or preachy.  Thank you so much for all the awesome feed back I received from Jealousy.  I’m really blown away.  Special thanks to @notnaturalanahi and @justanotherwaywarddaughter, for helping me get over my writers block for this story.


You took another sip of coffee and turned the page.

The boys were out. They’d finished a hunt and were on their way home.  Presumably you had a few more hours to yourself.  You were content with waiting, curled up on the bed in Dean’s room.

Dean had been almost resistant to leaving you.  Since the night you’d first slept together, he’d hardly let you out of his sight, even in the bunker.  Not that he’d discuss why with you.

You smiled distractedly, turning another page.  It was Dean and you knew his aversions to vocalizing his feelings.  He opted for a more physical approach.  

You shivered.  Not that you minded.

He hadn’t sad it in so many words, or put voice to the relationship between you two, but he held you tightly each night in his sleep and filled you in way that left your body pleasantly aching from being loved too hard.

You squeezed your muscles tightly, trying to recapture the faded echo of Dean’s touch, dimmed somewhat from the days he’d been gone.

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