Text
31K notes
·
View notes
Text
14K notes
·
View notes
Text
You know the problem with reading a book? You get hooked and then it ends and you feel sad
90K notes
·
View notes
Text
people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago
#yeah#listen if you're looking at the date on a fic before deciding to comment#you're already doing it wrong#i comment on orphaned fics#my dudes#there is never a reason not to comment#always a reason to comment
6K notes
·
View notes
Note
Thoughts on Tudor houses?
Oh ho ho ho ho!!
Easily in the top 5 most sexy architectural styles for a single family home, would fuck
#as a resident of a tudor house#that is not a Tudor house#but i agree with the sentiment#okay i should clarify: the upper roofline doesn't indicate an original era Tudor -- this is likely a modern era tudor interpretation
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm so glad goncharov happened when it did, right before prolific public use of AI. that was pure honest gaslighting straight from the heart. real human whimsicality and trickery thru blood sweat and tears. we were a family. and we all gonched, together. you cant replicate that with any machine.
154K notes
·
View notes
Text
One of my favourite things when reading fanfiction is when you click with an author's style so much that you adore the fanfiction you're reading, and once it's over you need more. So you go to their page and hope that there's more for any fandom you might know- only there isn't any. They've written for other fandoms you aren't familiar with and never would've thought about before.
But you're down so bad for their style and talent that they got you wading in like:
36K notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP Wednesday
I have been terrible at keeping up with Wip Wednesday and Six Sentence Sunday!! But thank you everyone who has tagged me in theirs.
Not long to go until I get to post the first chapter of each of the fics I've been writing for @carryon-reverse-bang and I'm super excited!!
For now, here is a snippet of one:
I bloody well hate Baz Pitch. I’m staring at yet another tabloid with his smarmy Disney villain face all over it. His lips are curled into a devious grin as he leans forward to whisper something into Agatha’s ear. I almost kick over the entire newspaper stand. “Simon? Oh, there you are. Come on love, or you’ll miss your flight.” Ebb touches my shoulder lightly, hesitantly, giving me a moment to reset myself before I turn away from the papers I’m so clearly freaking out over. “Hey,” she waits for me to face her, then sets her hands on either side of my face, rubbing her thumbs over my temples like she did when I was a kid. I’m taller than her now by a good eight inches, but her calm voice is as reassuring today as it was all those years ago in the kids home. I try to focus on her words, though her sadness at my leaving is making everything a little watery. “This is a fresh start, remember?” She sniffs, her eyes brimming. “Don’t let thoughts of Baz and Agatha haunt you all the way to America.”
And because I just realised I haven't shared anything from my other CORB fic yet, here's some of that one:
The sky above is the kind of vibrant shade that makes me think of blue M&Ms. Or Smarties. The ones kids aren’t supposed to eat because of all the ‘E numbers’. I don’t really know what an ‘E number’ is, but there was a boring program on telly about them a few weeks ago— My mind slides off the memory at the same time the ground starts to shake. Dark thunderclouds throw everything into shades of purple and blue- the colour of bruises. I clap my hands over my mouth to suppress a scream. I can’t breathe. The sand is an ocean of movement. Stone is erupting out of it all around me and I wail- the cry of a kid much younger than eleven. Walls close up around me, blocking out the light. The smell of rotting apples fills my nose. Objects move and crash over my head and just when I think I can’t bear any more— it stops.
Pressure free tags meant with love under the cut
@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @iamamythologicalcreature @cattocavo @youarenevertooold @orange-peony
@youarenevertooold @alexalexinii @hattedhedgehog @that-disabled-princess
@cutestkilla @rimeswithpurple @larkral @best--dress @scribble-tier
@theimpossibledemon @katatsumuli @artsyunderstudy @raenestee @nightimedreamersworld
@itriednottothinkaboutit @elfvictory @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @angelsfalling16
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
17K notes
·
View notes
Text
something i have always found really weird is when english texts italicize words from other languages.
i remember reading a book as a kid and the author continually italicizing the word tamales
44K notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey, the ACLU is getting people to send letters to your Reps to have Congress pass the No Kings Act.
This act would make constitutional amendments to ensure that even sitting presidents are held liable for their actions. That NOBODY is above the law.
Their goal is 150k messages sent and at the time of writing this they're about 2.1k off from that goal!
ACLU gives you a prefilled message that you can edit to send to make the process easier, and will send it out for you.
This only takes a few minutes!
58K notes
·
View notes
Text
30K notes
·
View notes
Text
ur favourite ao3 author definitely has to go back and reread their own stuff cuz they forgot major plot points in their own writing btw it's just a fact
17K notes
·
View notes
Note
If you’re still doing the sentence thing: “There’s no way that that’s true and Alex simply can’t let it stand.”
There’s no way that this is true, and Alex simply can’t let it stand.
For one thing, Henry won’t even look him in the eye when he says it, and as much as Henry sometimes feels like he’s alone in the world and misunderstood, that’s not true anymore. It isn’t.
“You’re over me?” Alex asks, voice firm, because he knows it’s the biggest lie Henry’s ever told.
Henry’s shoulders sag, and he finally turns around and looks at Alex as he says, “No,” with his voice breaking. Then, louder, “Of course I’m not.”
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Ok, ma'am that'll be 226.03$."
I take my wallet out of my pocket and unfold it. It is empty other than a single moth that lazily flies out. The moth lands on the tap point of the card reader. There's a beat, and my payment is processed. The moth flies back into my wallet and I put it back in my pocket.
99K notes
·
View notes
Text
DAPHNE APPRECIATE POST THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT THIS IS NOT A DRILL
49 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lol you don't get sentences today. You get this mural photo! Because that's what I accomplished this weekend. Plus a child's birthday party and family visit. Ya know. Just the small stuff.
I'm feeling a bit peevish about the geometry in the final column on the right. It's just not correct and I have to fix it somehow and I don't know how. V annoying.
I'm also feeling peevish about not having much time to write this week. The good (?) news is that my wife is traveling next week and I often write while she's away. So send me the musely vibes plz!
Thanks for the tags to @thewholelemon @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles and @kiwiana-writes (MJ I tried very hard to write a 100 word drabble but DAMN it is hard. But I shall try again in future, I promise)
20 notes
·
View notes