#writer's routine

[thecanvasofmadness]

From the book “The Tao Of Writing: Imagine. Create. Flow” by Ralph L. Wahlstrom.

[cairafea]

my favourite genre of seventeen is when they're straight up lying

ref:

[ahhrenata]

Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie hears him. He keeps his eyes closed and just listens- to Steve grumbling to himself when his hair doesn’t sit quite right, who starts to hum and whisper some catchy song. Eddie turns his sleepy gaze onto Steve as he shuffles around their room- watching quietly as he slips on his clothes, his shoes, a simple chain with Eddie’s ring around his neck. A warm, affectionate smile breaks across his face. Before he leaves, Steve glances at what he expects to be a sleeping Eddie, but instead, he’s met with a rasped, ‘Hey.’ Eddie sits himself up, stretches his arm across Steve’s side of the bed, and reaches, fingers wiggling. Steve crosses the room to cradle his face.

Their foreheads press, noses bump, and Steve brushes his fingers across scars and dimples.

He breathes a quiet,

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Eddie huffs a tired laugh,

‘You know I never mind.’

Because, yeah.

Every morning Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie always hears him.

( another one from the poll | WIP )

[mangostarjam]

by your side — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x reader, gn for the most part but referred to as "sweetheart" (and "girlfriend" at the end), hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, written in response to this ask, 1.8k words

"Vice Captain! Vice Captain! VICE CAPTAIN!!"

You wince as Okonogi's voice pierces through the gunfire and explosions surrounding you and your officers. You shouldn't even have access to the Vice Captain's radio channel with Operations, but you've been friends for so long Hoshina Soshiro had simply shrugged and offered you a smirk.

"How else are ya gonna learn the ropes and beat me someday?" he'd asked. "It's not like lettin' ya listen'll keep your shots any steadier."

He was right, of course. Letting you listen doesn't do anything for your aim — but hearing the channel now, knowing he's fighting a kaiju that can talk — that's strong enough to control all these wyvern type kaiju? It's a testament to all these years of training together that your shots are deadly and precise, your heartbeat ricocheting in your ribcage as you breathe and brace your shoulder for recoil.

Another wyvern kaiju dives towards your group and you huff, planting your foot on a block of rubble and notching the rifle against your shoulder. "Minase! Hibino! Get out of the way!" you order, squeezing the trigger rapidly.

Your breaths are loud in your ears.

Static crackles down the line.

You wince as a yoju crashes into a building nearby, sending dust and concrete tumbling down. Your officers — Soshiro's officers, normally, except he's busy so they're yours, now — are tending to the wounded and taking down yoju behind Officer Shinomiya's two man squad with Officer Ichikawa.

You want to run.

You want to sprint.

Your fingers are clamped so hard on your rifle that they ache. The talking kaiju, the leader — Kaiju No. Ten — is huge, even from a distance. There's no way Soshiro can take it down on his own — he specializes in miniature and mid-sized kaiju, not this giant monstrosity with an itch for fighting. You should be there.

"Vice Cap—!" Okonogi's voice is hoarse from yelling. Does she have a visual of him? He must've been knocked through a few buildings or something, based on the smoke and sounds you can catch from their direction.

Not knowing is the worst.

"Okonogi… don't worry… I'm still kickin'," Soshiro's voice is way too cheerful in your ear.

"Are you alright? Hoshina-kun?" you ask.

Soshiro switches to your private channel with a hum. "Aw, are ya worried 'bout me? That kaiju really packs a punch! How're my lil fledglings doin'?"

You watch as Officer Ichikawa freezes another yoju out of the sky. "Shinomiya and Ichikawa could probably make platoon leader, sir," you slip back into formalities automatically, though your chest aches. You flex your hands on your weapon. "In fact, it looks like it's pretty much handled here. I'll head over to your location now."

"Platoon leader," Soshiro's voice is sharp. You wince and freeze. "Your orders are to lead my platoon. Don't worry 'bout me."

"But sir, that's a giant class kaiju now, and —"

"And I've got a job to do," he says. "I intend to finish it. Follow my orders, sweetheart. I'll be fine."

Warmth blooms along your cheeks even as dread sinks into the pit of your stomach. Fuck.

Your earpiece clicks back to Soshiro's channel with Operations and you bite at your lip as Soshiro informs them of his plan to keep fighting. Okonogi protests immediately. "But sir, you're in no condition to fight any longer —!"

She's right. His maximum release is deactivated and it's a giant now — at least if you're there, you can expose the core with your shots and Soshiro can cut it down. But —

"She left me in charge of the base," Soshiro mutters. Your stomach twists. You can barely see clearly as Officers Izumo and Kaguragi take down another yoju.

Instead, in your mind's eye, you're picturing Soshiro racing along the large limbs of his foe, slicing and slashing even with his diminished combat levels. Fuck. He's really going to do it — he'll let himself die before he gives up, and normally you admire his conviction and resolve, but right now you're sending your hopes out to anyone who'll listen to please save your stubborn stupid Vice Captain.

"Platoon leader, we'll be moving the wounded now!" Officer Minase shouts. You blink to clear your vision and nod.

This is not the time to lose focus.

"Vice Captain!"

Okonogi, again. Not good.

"Fuck," you bite out, swinging your rifle into place and shooting down a yoju. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I swear, Hoshina, if you die I'll kill you. Who else am I supposed to share coffee with in the mornings? Who else is gonna tease me about the books I read?"

You hear Soshiro's choked laugh and your heart clenches. You squeeze the trigger again and the yoju in your sights dives out of the way. Soshiro sounds bad — he sounds like cracked ribs and breaths wheezing and you hear him spit what must be blood.

"Platoon leader! The path is clear!"

You provide cover fire anyway as the officers transport the wounded. The rest of the battle is a blur — Captain Ashiro's steady voice and the loud, decisive boom of her cannon echo in your ears, but you're protecting the infirmary when her order comes to hit the deck.

The blast washes over you like a wave and you shudder against the force, bracing against it even with your shield cranked to max. Your earpiece crackles and Soshiro sighs. "He's been arrested."

"I can't believe it," you murmur, climbing back to your feet with a wince. "Sir, are you alright?"

"What, back to formalities already?" Soshiro teases. You roll your eyes. "I'll be in the medic bay for a bit, sweetheart. Are you injured at all?"

"Just some scrapes and bruises," you promise, fighting off the blush creeping up your neck. "Did you check on all of your other officers already?"

Did he check on you first?

"I know you took care of 'em," Soshiro says easily. His confidence in you makes you want to cry. "Had to make sure my favorite platoon leader was alright."

The line goes dead and your heart stops. On the ranked officer channel you hear Captain Ashiro snap, "Get him to the med bay, now. I'll take Kaiju No. 8 into custody."

Your heart wrenches itself back into pumping as a sharp pain shoots through your chest. Did Soshiro collapse? Did he seriously — seriously — check on you with the last bit of strength he had left?

You spare a precious few moments to make sure your platoon (Hoshina's platoon) is accounted for and understand their orders to rest and help with securing the base, and then you bolt.

You're panting and dusty and there's still dirt smeared across your forehead when you make it to the med bay, but Soshiro's in an operation room and you're forced to pace in the hallway outside. Thoughts tumble through your brain like rocks, memories of training together and joking over drinks and shared morning coffees and all the times he's draped his jacket over your shoulders during late nights going through reports together. All the cracked jokes over your private radio channel and the silly smiles sent your way any time you laughed at one of his stunts.

You know you're not supposed to — he's your Vice Captain, after all — but fuck. You love him.

Platoon Leader Ikaruga is the one who finds you and sends you off to get cleaned up. "He's not going to be happy seeing you all banged up, and it'd be easier on his recovery if you're clean."

You can't argue with that, so you hurry to wash off the sweat and dirt and dust. As soon as you're done, you're back in the medical ward, pacing a hallway until one of the doctors finally emerges and directs you to the Vice Captain's recovery room.

"Soshiro —" your voice catches in your throat at the sight of him. His purple hair is splayed across the pillow, his bandaged chest rising and falling shallowly with every labored breath. You make your way quietly to his side and settle into the chair, resting your head on your arms as exhaustion creeps into your bones. It's been a long night.

He's okay. Soshiro's alright — a few cracked ribs and lots of bruises and stray cuts, but he's going to be fine. Dawn glides into the room slowly, lighting up the smooth skin of his neck and catching along the contours of his bandaged biceps and chest. The blanket is drawn up his torso and it's soft beneath your arms.

You fall asleep.

There's a hand patting gently at your hair, fingers sliding through the strands as you slowly blink yourself awake a few hours later. "Hey, sleepyhead," Soshiro's voice is low and a little rough. "What're ya doin' here?"

Someone's drawn the blinds shut, but sunlight filters into the room and makes his red eyes glow. You blink. "I'm here for you."

Soshiro's mouth twists. "You should be sleepin' in your own bed, sweetheart. I'm fine."

Your hand clenches into a fist on his blanket and his gaze drops to it. "You almost died, sir."

He stops petting your hair and reaches for your hand instead, tangling your fingers together and pressing his palm to yours. Your face warms at the rough scrape of his callouses against the sensitive skin of your hand. "That's nothin' new," he murmurs. He looks at you again and you can't bring yourself to look away. "We're Defense Force officers."

"You — you're more than just a Defense Force officer, sir," you choke out.

"Right, right, I'm a Vice Captain."

"Yes, but. Sir, you're also…"

Soshiro's gaze sharpens. "What's with the formalities, sweetheart? You called me by my name earlier, didn't ya?"

Your face feels like it's on fire. He heard that??

"You were asleep!"

"I was a lil drowsy on painkillers, but I heard ya loud and clear," Soshiro smirks. "C'mon. Lemme hear it."

You stare at him. He can't be serious.

Soshiro's smirk softens into something a little hesitant, a little nervous. "C'mon. I wanna hear my girlfriend say it."

Oh.

"Soshiro…"

His smile lights up the room. "Yeah?"

"Soshiro," you're blushing so hard it's a minor miracle nothing's caught on fire. "I'm gonna kiss you now."

He laughs and tugs you closer by your clasped hands. You plant your free hand beside his shoulder and hover above him awkwardly, mindful of his many bandages and the cotton taped to his cheek. "Well?"

"Shut up, or I'll dump you," you mumble, eyes darting from his eyes to his lips. You feel his free hand come up to slide around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. He laughs into your mouth as you pause, mere breaths away.

"Don't be mean," he murmurs. "I just wanna kiss my girlfriend."

[5soswfttwtaf]

but i went back to sleep afterwards and had another nightmare (wasn't that scary tho) which gave me an idea for a new fic

woke up from a nightmare this morning and almost threw up wtf

[nenelonomh]

creative routines

many famous creatives have unique routines that help them stay productive and inspired. here are a few examples:

maya angelou: she would rent a hotel room to write, free from distractions. she worked from early morning until about 2 p.m., then spent the rest of the day relaxing and reviewing her work. (i love the sound of this routine).

ludwig van beethoven: he started his day with a precise coffee routine, counting exactly 60 beans per cup. he composed music in the morning and took long walks in the afternoon.

charles dickens: he wrote from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. every day, followed by a long walk through london, which he found essential for his creativity.

honoré de balzac: he had an intense routine, writing from 1 a.m. to 8 a.m., taking a nap, and then continuing to write until 4 p.m., fueled by up to 50 cups of coffee a day.

franz kafka: he worked a day job and wrote at night, often staying up until 3 a.m. his insomnia and vivid dreams influenced his writing style.

[hermit-frog]

so people understand that Armand uses his innocent looks perfect casting and soft smiles/eyes as a weapon to disarm/distract/gain trust, but they fail to recognize this same manipulation when he does it to Daniel?

people will write paragraphs about how Armand manipulates Louis, but then he flashes one smile at Daniel and everyone's suddenly a believer, lol

I'd love to see DV on my screen, but we (armandiel girlies) need to recognize when a soft gaze = love, and when it's calculated. it's still delicious, though. rewatched it one billion times. what was achieved with this little interaction? where did the plot go after? what was happening before?

I have already mentioned it here, it's almost like good cop bad cop play. Armand sitting next to Daniel, smiling, apologizing on Louis' behalf again, giving Dan soft eyes, as if it wasn't him who had started that whole thing. Armand was the one to abuse his power in the 1st place, letting himself inside Daniel's mind, 'It's Alice, Louis, not Claudia.'. Louis simply followed (provoked by Daniel). i'm surprised Daniel didn't rub it in Armand's face, probably distracted by Talamasca.

the shift in Armand's demeanor from ep1 to ep3, interesting😏. Armand lives in survival mode, so his never-ending adaptiveness is not a surprise.

Armand is the master of manipulations, gets everyone (us included) fooled every week lol

[authorsharonforester]

Sticking To A Writing Routine

​Welcome. Today, I will show you how hard it is to stay on track with writing and the ways to overcome it. Here at home, I will currently express that I haven't written in a long time. 

The trouble with that is that I really want to, and despite that, I am not writing. I have a hard time sticking to writing a little bit every day because I am worried about how I will finish my work and the work it takes to do my writing and then edit it.

People have different reasons why they procrastinate writing. For all of us, it doesn't mean we enjoy writing. We are just afraid of failure in some way. For example, for me it is the process of editing and how much work it is going to take. My brain tells me that I will never finish the editing process because it takes so much time. I want to do things that will take very little time.

The story I am working on is about an alien that joins his people's plans on wanting to invade planet Earth, but the alien doesn't want to partake in this mission, and meanwhile on Earth, a girl and her friend are desperate to meet a live alien. This is a novel that took me three years to write when I was a little girl. I have written the entire thing on paper and now I need to type it on the computer.

It is important to keep yourself accountable for getting the work done. I am on camera because I want to show you that it is possible to come and stay on track in the writing process if you really let yourself do this. There are different ways to hold you accountable. You just gotta pick the types that work for you because everyone is different.

-Make a schedule and stick to it -Make a goal and stick to it -Make a checklist and work on it for a duration of time -Make a sign in, sign out sheet -Set a goal for the day -Get someone else to keep you accountable -Dedicate a day for your tasks

What works for every single person is different, so it is important you find what works for you, whether it is something from this list or something you come up with on your own. What works for me is this (when I am disciplined): Setting a goal and using a day to accomplish it. ​ Let me tell you how I found this. I was roaming through YouTube one day when I found an interview with Stephen King on there. I clicked on it because the title said he was talking about how he was making books so fast. He went into the conversation to mention that he sets the goal of writing SIX PAGES a day and then having the entire day to accomplish this. He also mentions that when he is being overcome with obstacles in writing, then he will use that time to take breaks, and what he does in those breaks is either eat a meal, shop at the door for things he needs or do a chore. He uses his breaks to do something he needs to get some practice in his personal life instead of being distracted by the phone and TV, which is really important to getting anything done. It is like being at school at home. Sometimes it makes it easier to think of it as an assignment he needs to get done. All these little things work as a motivator for him while he is working. Then he will start over the next day until he reaches his day(s) off.

This was inspiring to me because everyone else always came up with ideas that didn't work for me, such as the list above. For me, working under a time limit didn't work because I didn't know what to expect to come in randomly in my life. Others are able to work under pressure… It all depends on who you are and that you pick what works for you. As long as you pick something that is realistic to you, then you are on your way.

The last thing that you need to remember is that you need to start with small goals and just write! before you set yourself up with bigger goals and worry about editing, or else you will never get anything done because you are overwhelming yourself. We will overthink everything and then end up messing up our own stories.

[northernthiefcranberry]

finding a suitable playlist for your text means writing with all possible inspiration, then starting to sing along, and then hanging out for a few minutes, shaking your head, only to then curse yourself and go on to finish writing.

and if this is not the case, then it’s the wrong playlist at all.

[creatingnikki]

plan for tonight

pumpkin soup with more freshly crushed black pepper than anyone but I can stomach. wishing your woes away woosh woosh woosh every 11:11 of every day (and night). a mature take on things and grounded responses only come out when your perspective shifts from the micro term to the medium/long term. things that have to last long in a healthy and beautiful way do not need this sense of urgency and bombarding in the now. start a new kdrama, think of what you’ll wear to work tomorrow, text your sister back, listen to that song he sent you earlier in the afternoon. take the trash out, put on your moisturiser, get into bed, and go to sleep without torturing your mind, heart, or eyes.

[thecanvasofmadness]

[wa3jetisbestpony]

revstar fans we need to put on the best talent show this towns ever seen and save ReLive!!

[intertwinedquotes]

“I want to mend your heart, but you have to give me the pieces; trust me with them, and take your time.”

i n t e r tw i n e d Quotes

[un-onnie-mousse]

I wonder if I have to wear the same makeup everywhere The same makeup, without a care. It's the same moisturizer and the same concealer It's the same foundation to my skin And the same colour to my lips It's the same routine for a party It's the same routine for a picnic

I wonder if I will ever change my way, someday If I pick another colour, another texture. A different eyeliner, a different concealer. Something rare, out of the blue, maybe, just for you.

I only wonder if you would break my same when you speak of my name

[small-spark-of-light]

some kc glows and co in these trying times

[coraniaid]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer takes place in a world full of demons and magic and werewolves and invisible girls and convincingly human-like robots; in a world where the Russian Revolution took place in 1905 and a song released in 1957 could be a hit in 1955 and high school sports coaches can use declassified Soviet research to turn teenagers into fish monsters; in a world where vampire attacks are commonplace enough that the police have a standard lie ready to deploy about them and where weekly student deaths are not reason enough to shut down the local high school.

But so far, forty-one episodes into my rewatch, the most fantastic and least plausible thing in the show by some distance is the fact that Buffy still willingly chooses to socialize with Xander Harris.