#words and wwriting

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The poet is, etymologically, the maker. Like all makers, he requires a stock of raw materials — in his case, experience. Now experience is not a matter of having actually swum the Hellespont, or danced with the dervishes, or slept in a doss-house. It is a matter of sensibility and intuition, of seeing and hearing the significant things, of paying attention at the right moments, of understanding and co-ordinating. Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him. It is a gift for dealing with the accidents of existence, not the accidents themselves. By a happy dispensation of nature, the poet generally possesses the gift of experience in conjunction with that of expression. What he says so well is therefore intrinsically of value.

—Aldous Huxley, Texts and Pretexts: An Anthology with Commentaries p 5 (1932)

[Robert Scott Horton]

[youarentreadingthis]

sometimes feel like nonbinary is becoming a third gender............

[darkmatter-nebula]

your wwriting makes me 😊

Good morning! 👋😊

Thank you so much for your kind words, my dear anon! This truly means a lot to me! 💜

[spikeinthepunch]

every time i also get back in to wwriting i tell myself "hey i should take it easy, write real short things and not care about length" but then the first thing i sit down and write ends up being 4k words. and mentally i set that as the standard and cant break free lol

[disquiet-dream]

i hoped getting more sleep would make me able to think better but i think that'sstill shot

i wanted to wwrite a longer vent post but i literally just couldn't form the words rn

[patches-and-her-selfships]

patches. i am approaching u at rapid speeds. brace urself 4 i shall harass u abt ur selfship.

sooo twirls my hair and kicks my legs. ill admit i dont know a whole lot of flipline lore so these might b vague but whatever !!!! i need 2 hear u gay ramble or i will die /pos

okay okay so like what's kingsleys love languages ? both giving and receiving if u dont mind. how do u guys spend quality time 2gether ? what r dates usually like ? and a silly random one, what animal do u associate w him ?

OMG HI!!! HI AXEL HI!!!!! ive left this one in my inbox for 17 million years so i think valentine's day's the right time to answer it!! (also flipline lore can get odd at times but kingsley barely has any lore beyond his flipdeck the rest is just elaborate headcanons i made up so you don't have to worry :3)

soooo i dont really believe in love languages thats not something i really do or think about with my selfships BUT he does like giving physical touch and acts of service and gifts and stuff heehee he likes to spoil me :3

he also loves getting hugged and kissed and getting words of affirmation from me we're so obnoxiously lovey dovey with each other it's crazy 🤭

we like to spend quality time together by doing shows together at camp kingsley, joking around about stuff, or just staying at home and talking for hours on end about things! we're a very silly bunch and we've got a lot to say!!!!

and even though kingsley looks flashy with the cute little suit and the whole comedy club thing, he's usually a bit more modest date-wise! we usually go out to eat at one of papa louie's restaurants or watch a movie together at the sugarplex theater!! we may not like the movies there sometimes but that's okay cause the important thing's that we watched it together!! (and we can always riff on it when we're home)

and for what animal i associate with him.. it's a bit of a toughie cause i havent given much thought to that but one time i saw a mutual on discord headcanon him as a gay bear and i think that's 100% the undeniable truth sooooo he's a bear! but like a funny one are there funny species of bears?? like what's the objectively funniest speciesdoesn't matter I LOVE KINGSLEY!!!!!!!!

oohOHIOOHHOHHHHHHH AND WHEN I WAS WWRITING THIS POST YOU NEED TO SEE THIS OKAY!!!!! RIGHT WHEN I WAAS WRITING THE POST I PERUSED THROUGH THE FLIPLINE WIKI AND LOOOKKKKK!!!!!!1!1!!!!! loookk!!!!11LOOOKK!!!!!1

THEY MADE A FUCKING CART FOR HIM!!!!!!!! HE HAS HIS VERY OWN KART NOW!!!! OHHHHHH HIS KART!!!! HHISSS!! AAAASAAAAAA AAAAAA!!!AA!!!!!!! HA STACLES HES SO SILLY!!!! !OOHHH SO SILLY AAA A SCREAMS AAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SO SILLY SO FUNNYKISS ME SILLYMAN!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAa

[justlittleworlds]

taken from pinterest

[augchamp]

jackaby fan ending bc i am still tORN UP

[in which viv isn't quite satisfied with the ending of a certain novel. thanks to @rfjackaby . hope you enjoy!] That isn't quite the end of my story, though. Everything following the blinding light, up until Charlie was kissing me on the front porch of 926 Auger Lane later that day, was a blur of colors. Auras and people and emotions and footprints all blurred together into a fine mess of vision. I didn't marry him. Not right away, at least. Instead Charlie Barker moved into the bustling household, newly refurbished, and slightly less cluttered. The library wasn't mine, per say, but I spent a lot more time in there than my employer, who preferred to spend most days either outside or in bed, with rare in betweens. ​​​​​​Jenny tended to float in and out of her house, instead opting to accompany Jackaby on most of the walks, God knows where. She was a vibrant pink whenever she returned from those expeditions, I will say. I asked Charlie once, and he had also noticed that she seemed more... Alive. I gave Douglas better access to the pond. It's quite interesting to observe him in the new pond, still figuring things out. I realized why he had chosen to stay that way, and briefly wished I too was a waterfowl. Briefly. Charlie learned how to make the best tea in all the world, I dare say better than mine. He brought me cups of it throughout the day, and at some point throughout gallons of tea, my butterfly feelings for him faded, replaced with a sense of calm. A sense of home. There was one moment when he brought me a cup of tea late in the evening, and leaned over to kiss my head, when neither of us blushed, and neither of us shyly glanced away. I kissed him back. That's how I knew I loved him. As for I, I changed in some considerable ways after our events. Lucky for me, things were unsettlingly calm for the next two months, a time where I could grab for bearings of the new colors and senses and smells and feelings. I noticed I, however, became grayer. Duller. Sharper around the edges, and now I had perpetual bags under my eyes, even as I smiled. The vision was overwhelming, exhausting, and occasionally made me frustrated enough to break down into tears. I knew I'd have to live with it, though, and if I did get upset, it was away from Jackaby, and away from Jenny. I grew comfortable with Charlie's shoulder. I knew if my employer saw me at those breaking points, he would keep himself up at night, and he'd already done that enough for too many years. It was heartbreakingly beautiful the first time I saw him grin, ear to ear. I don't think I'd ever heard him laugh the way he did just a few weeks after he'd passed the vision on. He was happy. He had color in his cheeks, and a spring in his step, and when he shot me a grin, I knew he truly was enjoying life for what it was. And for me, it was all worth it. What wasn't worth it, were the amount of inside jokes among my three housemates, who dubbed the catchphrase "I didn't die for this". It became something they immediately bonded over, and laughed about, and something else to make me crack a smile and roll my eyes. As the years grew on, we all grew on each other. From the time that Jenny took Charlie to see the things she'd chosen for her wedding (which she insisted I try on her dress), to when Jackaby and I decided to bake a cake (you do not want to hear that story), we were no longer just a group of odd faces. We eventually became a mystery quartet. Oh, how we pissed off Marlowe. We became quite the team, however, where we each played to our strengths, and helped support the others' weaknesses. We had a few bumps in the road, times where we almost died, or got eaten, or got banished from another kingdom, but it was, for the most part, exceptional. The Mystery Quartet wasn't unbeatable by any means. We were just remarkable by all others. Months became years, and cases stacked up, and our friendships and romantics only grew for others in the group. There was one instance where I threw myself in front of Charlie and Jackaby, where I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to flicker out. I could see in the others' faces that they did too. It was another year before Charlie proposed to me. He knew that I knew. Several weeks leading up to it, he'd discussed things with me, desperate to be sure I was involved in our conversations on the matter, but not quite saying when he would ask. He asked when I made us both a cup of tea after a long day. It was one of my favorite memories from there on out, one I could remember almost without the filters of color and smears of emotion. I set a glass down on the table in front of him, sat down beside him, and leaned on him, as he leaned on me, before he whispered: "Please tell me you'll marry me, Abigail." "Of course, Charlie. Of course." I had held onto the ring after he'd been revived, and he never had asked for it back until that moment, only to slide it onto my finger, lean on my shoulder, and drink his tea. We got married in the fall, a few friends attending, among those were Jackaby and Jenny, and Miss Lydia Lee. I wore Jenny's dress. She cried. It was another few years before children even entered our minds, another few years of adventure. Neither Charlie nor I were quite ready to settle down when I became pregnant, and though it turns out that you probably shouldn't be investigating a resurfacing of a certain redcap while six months pregnant, all ended safely. I didn't throw myself headfirst into danger. ​​​​​​ When I held our daughter for the first time, very few were present, among those were Charlie, Jackaby, and Jenny. I let Jackaby hold her. He cried. We raised strong children on 926 Auger Lane, four of them, to be exact. Freckled, curly haired children they were, but they were fiercely kind and stubborn, and I knew that we had gone right somewhere along the lines when our oldest son rescued a wood nymph from certain doom, and his the creature in his bedroom for months. The first expedition our children went on was catastrophic, and that was simply to a fortune teller, so when Jackaby and our oldest daughter returned from her first official dealings with the paranormal, covered in mud, you can bet I asked if anything had been set on fire. There hadn't been, but something that did set alight were my daughter's eyes, at the young age of thirteen. She'd seen things I hadn't until I was well past my thirties, and that scared me. It also instilled confidence, though. My story is never quite over, just as the Seer's isn't. I truly hope when I die, it's long after my children have learned the love and death of life, and that my daughter will be strong when colors blur before her own eyes.

[storiesofsvu]

Random from the fanfic ask game: 4, 8, 17, 26, 43, 67, 78, 85, 90

4. What is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying around the longest? Bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written iy yet and experience deep existential dread?

LOL. Okay, so the STORY that’s been floating around longest is Unexpected Circumstances (sonny x reader) which i put on hiatus like a year ago. I was going to pick it up then realized it was going in a similar direction of another fic, which ended up going a different way anyways lol.

Otherwise i think it’s probably the parent trap au! With barba & Nevada….i have basically nothing for it but it’s there, lingering, making me try to figure it out lol.

8. What’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? Do you seek it out? How well do you take it?

Without feedback, there would be no fics in this world. (I believe). Feedback is what motivates us writers, comments are what’s keeps us going, it shows us people are actually reading it, and enjoying the content we’re putting out. I don’t think I’ve ever received *constructive* criticism? Like, i’ve gotten anon hate that was all “oh boo, your stories suck. You write the girls so ooc.” Shit, and during classified affairs i got one that was all “oh, great, you’re writing toxic relationships now” and my reply was “uh…yeah…thats kinda the POINT, keep reading, you’ll understand” lol. So i think i handle it well? But i havent really gotten any at this point.

17. What’s the fave line you’ve ever written?

Either the “i put a fucking bow on it, didn’t i?”

Or the line where Gallagher’s bragging about assaulting Rita and yn (Rita’s wife) comes in hot all “i know for a fact my dick is bigger than yours, and unlike you, i know how to use it.”

26. Do you like to wwrite one shots or series? And why?

I prefer series. It gives more time to establish dynamics, explore relationships and helps me keep the writing motivation going, knowing people are waiting for the next ch. i like to tell full stories. One shots i always end up either doing straight pwp, or they end up WAY too long with backgrounds of the characters, how they’re involved and the like. BUT, i do like little fluffy drabble one shots. And i like to keep them going to keep my writing skills up to par, like, i can easily jump around from fandom to fandom and genre to genre, it’s also how i break in a new character.

43. How did writing change you?

It helped me harness all the creativity and fantasy daydream i kept coming up with into something actually tangible. It helps focus me when there’s nothing else to do, keeps my brain active. It’s also brought me a very large circle of good friends all over the world, and introduced me to my girlfriend.

67. When have you felt the least confident in your writing?

Going back and reading the super old stuff, like, i just cringe at some of the shit i wrote. ESP some of the longer stories that i know i could do a WORLD of better on, but don’t want to rewrite them lolol. Also those times when you have a REALLY good idea fleshed out in your head and it just wont transfer to paper very well, then you say fuck it and post it anyways? And then just….always regret…esp when it’s part of a mini series or collection.

78. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Good god. Ending things is almost as hard as titling them for me. Ch’s at least i can cut off a little bit more abruptly cause there’s a continuation of the story, each individual ch doesn’t need a beg, mid and end, i can just cut to black. One shots you always need to wrap up all the lose ends and UGH, ive had 1500 word stories end up 3000 just because i can’t end it lolol

85. What would be on a moodboard for your current wips?

Lol. I made moodboards for both of them! The Nanny, is obvi, cute, adorably dressed kids, manhattan, rita & raf.

90.do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

Yes. Unless y/n is a lawyer or politician, she very much has my vernacular. And obviously i put a lot of cursing into my fics, whether the narration or from the other characters, but like…some of them do canonologically swear, and other ones would if the show had a higher rating.

I think as long as i have a good wrap on the characters from shows, that i do a good job making their voices/vernacular heard in my fics.

Thanks for asking!! 😊

[lionsjustice]

Guys, I had an epiphany while I was rereading some Tywin chapters last night, and watching a few Tywin scenes from the show.  It’s a thing I’ve sort of been chewing on for a long, long time, and never quite knew how to put into words.  It’s part of the reason I really can’t stand GRRM’s wwriting in regards to Tywin, and why I think so much of his story, personality, history, and behavior are so at-odds.  And that reason is this:

Tywin Lannister isn’t written as a character who’s expected to live, to deal with scenarios that truly challenge his beliefs or actions.  He’s written as a character who is really there to serve as a why for his children.  A true villain for Tyrion, an idol for Cersei, and a pushy parent for Jaime.

Tywin Lannister isn’t written as a character who might have to face Dany returning.  He isn’t written as someone who has for one minute stopped to ask himself if what he’s doing is best for anyone.  He’s not written as a character who loved a king but came to realize he was beyond saving.  He’s not written as a character with any real internal story.  He’s not written as someone with any loyalties at all, not even to things that everything should imply he has (see: The Shae Incident).

He’s not written as a man, at all.  He’s a plot device, like I’ve said before, but it’s actually worse than that.

Tywin’s written as a short-term character.  A character who isn’t going to make it to be faced with those challenges, so their internal logic doesn’t need to make sense.

Usually that’s reserved for thugs or henchmen, characters who you don’t meet for long and who don’t need to justify their actions - good or evil - to the reader.  It’s very rare to see it applied to a character like Tywin, who is so critical to the development of at least four major or major/minor characters, whose actions are the catalyst for at least three plotlines...you get my point.  It’s very rare to see that barebones writing in a character with so much implied history and who has such far-reaching consequences.

And let me be clear: a writer has no obligation to tell you a character is repugnant or good, to make a morality case.  But it is their job to show you that character’s internal logic, especially if they serve such a role as Tywin did in the books.  And in this regard, GRRM failed spectacularly, at least for me.

For all that I stopped watching the show after season four, what I cannot fault D&D for is making Tywin feel not just like a solid character with an internal framework and thoughts, and feelings (even before you touch on Charles’ amazing acting), but making him feel like a person.  A person who might have had some trouble facing the daughter of his one-time dearest friend.  A person who tried to teach his grandson better, who interacted with others as a man who had been Hand for almost twenty years might.

D&D wrote Tywin better than GRRM, and while I may write him primarily based on headcanons, I can never thank them enough for the good turn they did my lion.  He was some of the best writing they did, and it’s a damn shame they couldn’t give other characters who deserved it far more that treatment.

[jawllines]

Alpha!Bill and Alpha!Harry Blurb

A/N: hiya Liv! First and foremost I’m the argument blurb anon and I promise to try and get that done soon! Secondly, this is really more of a Alpha!Bill blurb but you’ll understand why when you read it. Enjoy!

okay literally LITERALLY @multipandombabe tHIS IS LOVELY AND I WANT YOU TO WWRITE EVERYTHING AND SEND IT TO ME BECAUSE I AM GREEDY THANK YOU FOR SUBMITING THIS

———–

“She’s almost in heat.” Harry smirked knowingly over his cup of coffee, eyes remaining in contact with Bill as he did so. The second the words fell from his mouth Bill tensed. He wasn’t uncomfortable, no no no, far from it. He was just surprised. Being extremely busy with the company as of late he found himself spending less and less time at their shared estate, meaning he had little to no idea what was happening within the workings of their spacious nest. It was the definite factor as to why he was unaware of his sweet Omega’s heat apparently on the horizon. Bill almost felt bad, a realization hitting him suddenly that he hadn’t been paying you the attention you needed. If he had maybe he would’ve known it was nearing your time. Though that did explain the previous night when you stumbled into his office. “Billy?” He had heard the knock at the door before to the sound of his name, but proceeded to ignore it being more concerned with the paperwork before him than anyone trying to intrude on his time. “Hmm?” He could only hum, the tips of his fingers typing quite ferociously into the keys of his calculator whilst the other wrote away on a spreadsheet of some kind. “I-I didn’t mean to bother you but I—“ when the sentence suddenly fell short Bill seemed to catch himself. Drawing away from the screen of the calculator he glanced up towards the head of the room. Standing before him in nothing but a silk cream color nightgown was you, twirling your digits and noticeably nudging your legs together. “Darling? What are you doing up—“ he seemed to follow in your footsteps as Bill himself lost his sentence in his throat. But he couldn’t help it, not when he finally smelled you. All of his senses flooded back, the work cloud now clearing distinctively from his brain to leave him concentrating on you. The familiar scent of vanilla, gardenia, rain and peppermint hit him like sultry breeze. It wasn’t your normal aroma that captured him though, it was the fervent smell beginning to drip slowly down your inner thigh. “I woke up l-like this, dreamin’ of you and Harry but I couldn’t fall back asleep.” Your  tone was whining, higher and a bit desperate sounding. Bill could instantly feel his cock begin to harden. “Sheets were all wet and I got so warm.” You mumbled, taking slow steps closer to his desktop, “H-Had to get out of bed.” Bill found himself nodding without even knowing, along with the water fountain pen tipping from his hand and the calculator resting gently on its back. He was watching your every move—all the while making sure to keep his composer. As an Alpha he couldn’t be needy or submissive, it’d show a lack of leadership. But there were definitely times (such as this) where he’d let you be in full control. “Tried to ask Harry but he said he was too tired. ‘Been a long day pet, ‘n and I want ya’ to get what ya’ deserve. So go find Billy’.” Your impression of Harry on any other given day would’ve made Bill snort but at the moment he was a bit perplexed. Why would Harry give up such an opportunity? The boys loved you at any and every moment, found you attractive from your head to your toes all the time, but when you were needy? It was some of the best sex the three of you shared. He supposed he wasn’t upset with Harry’s choice though. “Y’know I wouldn’t have bothered if you if I didn’t have to—“ “I know sweet. Come here.” The command was all you needed to hear before you were hastily making your way to his side. Bill had to ignore the twitching beginning to stir in his cock because he knew that he needed to make this moment all about you. Of course he wanted nothing more than to be buried deep inside of you, taking you right on his desktop. But as previously stated this was about you..not to mention the fact that the attendees were still here tidying up the place. He patted the top of his thigh without any sort of change in facial expressions and watch as you followed suit. Drudgingly slow your shaking legs straddled his one and the sudden feeling of your soaking core resting atop his Armani pant leg could’ve sent his cock into a full hard-on. “I can’t fuck you right now love.” You slumped against the desk in a pout, clearly very disappointed at this news. Bill knew it was probably all you wanted—why you came in here in the first place. But Harry and himself were a respected, well-known Alphas with a title so they couldn’t be bothered with the house staff going off and telling others about the sexual escapades taking place. Taking care of you though was always on his list of high priorities. You were his only omega, if possible he’d give you the world and more. He’d do anything for you. “Don’t pout.” Bill smiled. Cupping your waist he dragged you closer to his own and tightened his grip. “How about ride my thigh instead? Hhm? That sound good?” It seemed like speaking was something you were struggling with, being too antsy to respond and instead just simply nodding your head. An all too familiar smirk filled the bottom of Bill’s face as he rested back in the chair and watched. “Go on then.” He nodded. Bill could barely admit it to himself but he was genuinely excited to see you ride his thigh. And if that wasn’t enough the wet sensation starting to dampen his thigh did it. It was a slow build up, Bill noted, as you tried to find your pace. Hand resting on his opposite thigh whilst the other tightened around his neck for stability you squirmed. He attempted to guide you with a helpful hand but you denied it. “I got it.” Those words seemed to be the starting point to it all. You began to draw yourself forwards and back in silence, your rhythm now apparent as the sensation of your clit. Bill had to hide the grin that wanted to break forth. Thigh riding was something neither of you had shared before—that was why it took you more than a moment to get comfortable. And he found the uneasiness beyond attractive. There was something incredibly sexy knowing that this was a whole new  experience you were sharing solely with him. “Oh g-god.” He listened to your voice crack as your body sped up its pace, he watched your hips thrust a much quicker pace against the now damp cotton of his thigh. He wanted to pant with you—to match his breath to your uneven ones just to edge himself. Shaking the thought from his mind he grabbed your chin, the tip of his thumb purposely slipping between your lips just to watch you suck on it. He needed to remain dominant, he couldn’t let your enticing figure consume his thoughts and allow you full superiority (though you never could given the fact of you being an Omega). “That’s it darling. You’re almost there,” his thumb slipped further to dance on your tongue, “Keep going.” "Feels so good.” Tears could visibly be seen on your lower eyelids, an indication of how you were really feeling. Bill found himself puzzling over it. He knew your body inside out, as did Harry, and that meant he knew exactly how you could react to any sensual situation. Being this sensitive worried him a bit, at least until you abruptly grabbed his hand from your side to cup your breast. “B-Bill.” He took that as a large enough sign to aid you. Chuckling lowly Bill abducting the liberty given to him, devouring your left breast in his grip with ease. Another elongated moan ruptured from the back of your throat full force, the sound Bill made sure to keep at the back of his head. He would remember it for his next rut. “Oh-h fuck.” You increased your speed with any warning, your clit now brushed Bill’s thigh back and forth with a rhythmic tempo. It did very little to help with his hard on which your were constantly brushing with your thigh as you worked your body away. The urge to just pick you and slam you on to the table before them was oh-so tempting, torcherous even. But he couldn’t. Instead he squeezed your breast even harder and then directed the majority of his fingers to slide right beneath your pussy, so now instead of just riding his thigh, Bill could finger you too. And he did. Inserting not one nor two, but three whole fingers inside of you—nearly coming undone at just the mere touch. “You’re practically dripping down my hand love.” Another whine from you, thrusting forward against his touch somehow even faster. Bill couldn’t tell how much time had passed, minutes or seconds, the whole concept of it had dissipated with you in his clutch. With you soaking his digits. With his leg drenched in you and only you. He was beginning to feel it..your orgasm was approaching, and fast. So he did what was not only expected of him but what his instincts were compelling him to do—begging him to do. Right hand with a firm grip on your ass and the left buried inside of you Bill began to rock his lap back forth. It added enough pressure to set you off. “I-I’m—“ “Shhhh I know I know. Let it go darling.” Bill could’ve watched you come undone on top of his leg for the rest of his existence, there couldn’t quite possibly be anything better. Not to mention the overpowering feeling of your pussy clenching over and over and over again like he wasn’t even there. He had decided long ago that his favorite part of having sex you with was knowing he had made you cum, knowing that with strength of his own body he managed to make your legs quake and belly constrict. Caused sweat to cover your outer-most layer like a thin sheet and those eyes of yours to practically roll into the back of your head. And knowing he could do it over and over again and still get the same reaction—if not more, was a victory like none other. ——— “You’re think’n about her right now aren’t ya?” The knowing look on Harry’s face caused Bill to roll his eyes. As much as he loved the brunette he could slightly annoy him from time to time, especially when he couldn’t leave him to his own thoughts. “Well Y/N is who we’re talking about at the moment isn’t she?” “ ‘Course.” Harry beamed. Placing his bowl of oatmeal of to the side he reached forward to grab Bill by the forearm, purposely directing his green eyes to meet his own earning a soft huff. “But I think I know what ya’ were really think’n about.” As quickly as Harry had Bill in grasp, he pulled back beginning to feel quite inferior to someone who was suppose to be his equal. “Heard the poor thing moanin’ from my room! Never mind the smell.” His eyes seemed to dilate at the mere memory, tongue peeking out from his mouth to run a strip over his bottom lip in apparent hunger. “Speaking of that.” “Harry? What are you thinking?” Bill questioned lowly to his Alpha partner, the pads of his thumbs drawing back from Harry’s thighs to rest at his own sides. As much as Harry liked to act like an Omega he most definitely was a Alpha, which unfortunately meant that Bill couldn’t read him like he could read you. Most times it didn’t bother him but at this very moment, it did. Harry hopped down from the countertop with a pip in his step, briskly making his way over to Bill who watched his partner gravitate in such a childish manor. Once stood before him Harry moved even closer, until whatever was spoken between the two of them could only be heard by the two of them. “Since ya’ got to ‘er last night, I get ‘er tonight.” He leaned in even closer to Bill’s side, eyes tracing over the skin of his neck until he was close enough to speak into his ear, “When she’ll be in ‘er heat.” —————

i hope that was okay! love ya liv! and i’d be down for writing another part, unless you want to lol

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

Shit. Like shit. You already paid me back making me tear up just with your answer cause you have such a way with words to bring everything I feel and everything I might’ve forgotten to light to make it so much more poignant. I’ve been following you for ages now, but you’re gonna make me resurge with spamming you anons cause you’re making me feel things I’d forgotten I could feel so deeply about Bones and Jim (and Spock, cause frick the posts you have about him leave me all twisted up inside or giddy too depending on your tone and you make me care so much more than when I’m reading someone else’s writing) It hasn’t even occurred to me the fact that his act of saving him was contradictory in that it’s a conjunction of the things that matter most to him and also a choice between them. What am I supposed to do with myself. You’ve not only got a brilliant mind to think through these things and give deeper analysis and ideas and extrapolate from what’s there, you’ve got a spectacular way with words that the shortest of phrases from you get me all worked up and bothered on a deeper level. Just genuinely grateful to have come across your blog years ago and to bear witness to your writing cause something about it connects so well and I don’t know how I’m gonna handle the longer version of these ideas you’ve got going, I’m gonna be a blubbery mess (and I really thought I wasn’t a crier but you’ve been proving me wrong for a while now so I really should know better)

Sorry, same rambling anon, I was gonna sleep but ive now sent warning that you’ve opened the gates for terrible rambly nonsensical spamming cause I’m not good with words but i have so much praise to share and it’s really hard for me to truly analyze and pinpoint what exactly it is about your writing that I love so much. Cause, like, it’s not just Star Trek, yk? I think I started following you when you were mainly doing mcu writing and I fell in love with all the ways you wrote things back then, and even other stuff where it’s not fictional wwriting but rather analysis (like your Good Omens queer discussion to name a recent example) spark thoughts in me even when I already cared it’s like you just make me care more. Even and sometimes especially when it’s in a lighthearted direction cause it makes me crave how well you characterize certain ideas and traits within context of who people are at their core (or fictional core) while still exploring something new. Alright, I’ll stop now, have a great day/night! (Gonna start signing these in case I ever don’t ramble and thus become unrecognizable lol -c)

C!!! oh my god it's been forever!!! I have your messages written down in a notebook and I still have a lot of them in my inbox here to cheer me up because they always make me so happy! I didn't know you followed me through my fandom switch!! oh my god I hope you've been doing alright!!!!! you've been here since i was in HIGHSCHOOL jeez

[auroraphilealis]

I really enjoyed how you described blogs by just looking at them.I know the blog rates are for blogs lol but if you would describe me in those terms what would you describe my personality as(obv. from the very lil you might gather from my asks XD)?I'm just curious to know what you think my personality reflects as a season/scent etc?ofcourse,no pressure to do this! I won't ever mind if you don't want to reply to this! (Phantasticpheels)(whtmakesmehppy: rain,babies,animals,goodsoft hoomans,food,u)

Hi, lol myasksmust be coming in like a train wreck but I ran out of words :')had to cut short what makes me happy; good books/stories, people who are in love(ex: Dan Phil, rose Rosie), ppl who stop on their way home to stroke strays(lol I'm weird), running with my headphones on, people reading my writing and enjoying it, again FOOD, vanilla and coffee and paints,going on adventures with ppl who support me (p.s. I'm excited abt ur career path!I'll be looking forward to when you decide to share!)

OMG!! Omg I love all of these things!! yes!!! AHHH! This is a beautiful ask, thank you for sending it to me!! Wow! I also love good books and stories, strays and petting them, food, and wwriting, having people enjoy my writing, AH, yes!!!

season: summer // spring // winter // fall  

color: pastels // dark colors // neon // specific color? -

scent: fresh bread // flowers // backyard in the summer // generic candles // coffee // tea

time of day: sunrise // morning // afternoon // sunset // night

vacation in the: city or country

hogwarts house: gryffindor // ravenclaw // hufflepuff // slytherin

extra compliments: you’re a sweetheart, I enjoy talking to you quite a bit!!!

no more please!

[elizascorn]

Loukas’ Return

This is a story I’ve wanted to wwrite for ages, revivng my angstly old 14 y/o self’s OC! This time i hope its better! But its probably still got the Angst tbh.

Words: 1,292 Characters: Loukas Nemain (OC), China Sorrows. Fandom: Skulduggery Pleasant Set: Two Years after The Dying of the Light (TDOTL)

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Loukas walked through the sanctuary, attempting to keep his composure as he walked to the Grand Mage’s meeting room. Even as it was a normal meeting for a look into the future, it never stopped his nerves from spiking, meeting someone with such power and authority. He couldn’t even handle talking to a teacher normally, so this was quite a bit of a step up.

The room was as astounding as always, mirrors upon mirrors upon mirrors. The reflections of reflections showed everything there was to see in the room, even from one position. In the centre of this room was a long table, stretching from the north side to the south, just where he entered. At the far north of the room, was the elegant head of the room, the Grand Mages seat.

Loukas took his seat at the table near her seat, and took out the required material; incense, pen, paper. The basic materials and Seer would need to tell someone their future. Every week, he and his teacher, Parme would report the future for the Grand Mage, but he mainly just watched as she did so, bringing the materials she would need as he studied her magic.

The Grand Mage entered from the same door he had, and walked with meaning from the entrance to her seat, her body slightly tense; as if she had just been insulted and was hiding the anger.

“Grand Mage Sorrows.” Loukas said, standing to greet her. He was in awe of her beauty, as everyone was. Even though she looked tired, she radiated physical perfection.

“Seer Nemain,” she started, and he straightened his stance “Pleasure as always. Shall we get started?”

“Of course, Grand Mage… But, should we start without Seer Willow? She normally leads these sessions, does she not?”

She sighed, but stayed tense nonetheless “Not today, Seer. She is missing.”

Missing!? How is this the first he is hearing about it! Shock and confusion flashed across his face. “But I just saw her yesterday? How is it that she is already missing?”

She kept her tone as monotonous as she could “Some other sensitive was to visit her this morning but she did not answer. Upon further inspection, it was found that her house was turned to chaos, and no sign of her was there. But now is not the time Seer, I’m sure you’ve had enough training to do this for me for today, so let us continue.”

Even though Loukas wanted to press her for more answers, he felt the need to go on with the session as she intended. He sat down, pulling the materials towards him and preparing for everything as he had done with Parme so many times before.

First, lighting the incense to relax and protect, then hold the pen and paper in front of you so that if any messages were seen you would write them. Then, meditate.

It took him longer than in training, probably due to the pressure he felt in this scenario. ‘It’s only the most important person in Ireland you’re telling for, no pressure!” He thought. Soon, however, the visions came to him.

He saw the Roarhaven Sanctuary, standing as a vision that faded for Ireland – well, the world. People were standing in front of the sanctuary, discussing something of great importance. In the group, he saw Parme. Relieved that she wasn’t dead, he looked for more information with the group. He recognised another as Tanzani Coil, and another as Reagan Havoc. It was the old squad he was with for the earlier war years that Ireland had recently helped settle. Why were they there, what reason would they have to reform?

Just as he questioned this, a figure came from out of his vision. Loukas couldn’t make out who the person was, but only that they were tall. He also felt the fear in the air, the shared anxiety that the group were to experience. Then, the group ran. They ran from the unknown person. Whoever it was obviously made them feel so threatened that all of them believe that, as a group, they could not defeat him. Who was it?

Then, the vision flickered and changed, he was moving to a new scene, a new event yet to unfold. He saw the face of Hester Adamant very close to his. He saw her bright hair on top of her head, and he knew that it had to be her. She looked scared. He looked scared. When Loukas drew his focus away from Hester and… Himself, he noticed that they were near a now at the English Sanctuary. The entrance courtyard that welcomed all magical people had been doused in attacks, from Elementals and Adepts alike. Trees were burning, and flickers of shadows moving in corners that had been drawn upon for power were scattered across the scene.

Loukas was floating above the future, far enough away that he could not hear the conversation, but close enough to recognise that there was one to be heard. The panic had not left Hester’s face, and it was noticeably spreading across Loukas’s. Then, the pair stood, and ran into the sanctuary doors. Why was this being shown to him? A question that may be more important to ask: why was the world once again thrown into chaos, after such a lengthy war with so many casualties, why would another one rear its ugly head? And as he asked himself these questions, the vision vanished.

The scenario changed once more, and the angle he saw this from was unusually close to a person, and this was one time Loukas hated being a sensitive. He saw himself (which isn’t always fun, especially as he didn’t choose what to see) running, fleeing, attempting a desperate escape from something so determined to take his life that he would risk turning his back from it. And he saw himself fail. He saw himself grabbed, grabbed by the hand with such a murderous intent. The Loukas of the future was pulled down the room by the hand. The vision played out exactly as he didn’t want it to. He saw himself stabbed in the chest by a purple column, his own screams echoing through what must have been a large room. He heard himself die.

Loukas was crying when he stopped meditating. He dropped the pen and immediately wiped his tears away. After all, crying in front of China Sorrows herself wouldn’t exactly make her have a high opinion of your abilities.

“What is it?” She asked, this time with more emotion in her voice: curiousness, not worry.

“I saw the Parme and some old friends attack outside the Sanctuary. I saw the Irish Sanctuary in a state of war. And I saw myself die… That’s always fun.” He tried to add humour into his voice, and it was obvious that the Grand Mage had no time for it.

“What caused it?” Her voice flat again.

“I don’t know, a tall man was in Ireland, and I think he was the one who killed me. But there was no sign of him in England.”

“Well, thank you for your help, and as you saw Parme in your meditation I assure you that she will return safely. Pack your things, I have more people to see here.” She pushed him out of the room verbally, and he thought as he walked back to the Sensitive’s wing of the now expansive Sanctuary. How did she know Parme’d be alright? Even knowing the future can change it. Well, that was an assurance to him as much as it was to Parme’s safety. After all, knowing he is going to die means that it is now knowing he might die. Great!