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You're never too old to set another goal or dream a new dream. ~ C. S Lewis Set a new goal today; challenge yourself and achieve it!

1896. Birth of American novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald. His writings depicted the American rich of the 1920s before the era of depression.

“There is promoting , writing punishing , writing in celebration of heroism, but always Try to understand each other.” Steinbeck

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Discover whether you need to build a world or not, and how and when to use Earth analogues. The Rule of Three will help you avoid getting caught, too!

The spider gets his thread right out of his own guts + that is where the author gets his .”

Any that helps a child to form a habit is good for him. Angelou

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He Who Wants the Universe

Earth has always felt constricting to him. Travel as far as one can go, and ends up at the starting point - a full circle.

A limitation. 

As a child, he had always chased after the stars, idolizing that brilliant shine in the sky. Wanting to be where the stars are. Free and brilliant.

His view changed with time. He wished he could embrace those little sparkles he used to admire into his chest, tucking it all away. Protecting those little stars from the confinements of the galaxy. All these stars, stripped of their freedom and is destined to die off… Right where they started.

Takashi cried when he realized he felt the same confinement as those little stars. Fixed on Earth, his beginning and end. 

He doesn’t feel constricted anymore. He has broken records, first of his generation to go on multiple missions, youngest to have done so. He had it all. A good head upon his shoulders, the job of his dream, and a significant other that supports him.

He couldn’t ask for anything more. 

This is all he ever wanted. 

No, absolutely not!

Why not? He’s cleared all his physicals.

I don’t care what the doctor said. This man is sick and he shouldn’t be sent on another mission.

Everything okay?

Well, maybe he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t go on the mission.

How important am I to you?

Don’t expect me to be here when you get back.


I overheard you and Commander Holt talking with Admiral Sanda.

Nightmares haunt him behind his closed eyes. Golden eyes leering from afar. Claws sweeping his flesh. Detaching and attaching body parts. What he doesn’t remember his subconscious fills in the rest.

He would wake drenched in sweats. Skin ice to the touch. Lips parted but silent screams.

Nights like these make him wonder if everything was worth it. Has he found the world where he could feel free? Where the cage that reminds him of his limitations is nonexistent. 

A place where he could believe in himself and make the impossible - possible.

“Shiro. Takashi, you’re safe.” A voice would say.

Shiro’s gaze would find the source of the voice. His tensed muscles would start to relax under the gentle touch, coaxing him to lay back down in their bed. Kiss his tears away, and let him cling to their warmth.

Yes, it was worth it. Because along the way, he has found his universe.

anonymous asked:

House of Cards? Nice. It’s been a while since I’ve read it. - writing anon

Yep, and it’s been while since I’ve written anything for it. My friend reminds me it’s been a “thousand years” since the last part 😂

"Trust me.  I'm a doctor.  Well.  Kind of.  Not really.  I have Hello Kitty bandaids though."  (a Walking Dead drabble, Caryl + Judith, more).

Hmm.  Let’s pretend Denise never died and Alexandria never fell.  Post Season 6ish AU.  A few years have passed and Daryl’s left in charge of Judith for the afternoon.  Turns out trouble doesn’t just love her big brother. 

“Trust me.  I’m a doctor.  Well.  Kind of.  Not really.  I have Hello Kitty bandaids though.” 


Denise’s words are released in one big, babbling, breathless string, and Carol wants to laugh.  She really does.  But Judith’s tears keep coming and Daryl?  Well, he looks positively petrified, pale as a ghost and gaunt with misplaced guilt, and it’s not a look she’s used to seeing on him.  Not one she likes so she takes control of the situation.  Takes Denise by the elbow.  Calls out to Rosita.  “We’re going to need some splinting material.  A few Hello Kitty bandaids won’t hurt.”
On Manipulation and Blackmail - Chapter 1 - Nebilas - Miraculous Ladybug [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

New Story!! Well… Kind of. I started this on fanfic forever ago and got through twenty chapters. And then I… Well I didn’t lose interest but I didn’t like where it was going, so I decided to restart. And by restart I mean cut out a few subplots I don’t like, add one or two more. Basically I have twenty chapters mostly written and another 13 roughly sketched out.

Summary: With two days of high school left, Gabriel summons Adrien to his office and tells him he’s sending him to America. Adrien is devastated and is fully prepared to tell his father no, but Gabriel has ways of making his son cooperate…

Marinette, three years after meeting the love of her life, still hasn’t confessed to him. But after a conversation with her mom, she realizes that maybe her chances are running out, so she heads to school, intent on telling him how she feels, whatever feelings she may or may not hold for a certain black cat aside…

So yeah! I hope you guys enjoy Chapter one of this story! Spoiler alert, Gabriel is the absolute worst. (What’s that? He already is?) Okay he’s EVEN WORSE THAN USUAL and that’s sayin’ something. Hope you enjoy! :)

Fun fact: My document name for this is “Sabine Has No Chill”

anonymous asked:

Other big fears: Will likes El and he and Mike fight over her. Will is gay but Mike and/or the rest of the Party turn out to be homophobic assholes. Will is gay but nothing is ever done with that fact. Blatant queerbaiting. Lip service

I hope they get Hop and Joyce together if only to stop that love triangle from possibly happening.

If any of those boys are homophobic I will single-handedly hunt the DBsdown and force their hand to rewrite st3

If they just keep hinting without doing anything I’m also gonna hunt the DBs down.

Turn on your location, boys. I’m ready when you are.

I’m becoming infatuated with the notion of mutual affinity. For all infinity. But I cannot get it through my thick skull—why you would fall for a ruin like me. Warriors fight for intact kingdoms. It seems I’ve hit self-destruct and put on your armor. I could follow you forever. Of course, I’d never tell you this. I’ll write notes I’ll never send and break hearts that were only meant to bend. Queens never fight for the damned. And innocents never chase after the tyrannically sinister. I am the most decisive disaster you’ve ever met. An emperor who would set fire to her own throne. I hoped that you fell far from the smoke when you emerged with eyes burned blind and lungs scorched black. You could not breathe around me, my darling. I am a weed in the garden of Eden. I chased away the city. How dare I sit in the rubble and pray for you to come back.

anonymous asked:

101 analogical and/or prince x morality i forgot their ship name sorry >.<‘

why not both? ;3 / ships: romantic royality & romantic analogical
peep @the-incedible-sulk‘s analogical adoption head canons/luna here
101: “…they just grow up so fast.”

patton’s head on his shoulder was a warm and comforting weight. capping and uncapping the pen he was holding, roman watched the scene before him with a soft smile. finding a space on the living room floor that was covered with some sort of toy would have been hard to accomplish. getting the kids to help clean up later would be a chore but roman knew they’d get through it together. they always did. 

virgil’s quiet laughter caught his attention; roman glanced to his friend to find a streak of nail polish across the top of his hand. luna was giggling, looking apologetic and mischievous all at once. logan glanced up from where he was playing toy blocks with jemma. she was rambling happily as she stacked them as high as she could before logan carefully took the tower apart before it got too tall, just for her to build it back up. 

luna was nearing her eighth birthday - it’d be the second one with dad and papa - where jemma was still rather far out from her fifth. despite the age difference, the two got on splendidly, which all four parents were quite grateful for seeing as they were near impossible to separate as well. 

patton mumbled something under his breath. roman tilted his head curiously, careful not to move and jostle his husband from his position. “what was that, dearest?” 

when patton answered, his voice wavered: “… they just grow up so fast.”

roman’s heart stuttered. he set aside his pen and took one of patton’s hands in his own. it’d been two years since they adopted jemma. from braving getting her ears pierced, to asking if she could have pretty pink hair, to leading the way on their walks through the neighborhood - she was adventurous like her dad and kind hearted like her paw (patton never grew tired of this, for they all knew just how much he liked cats). 

“they really do,” he agreed gently, making eye contact with virgil. he grinned at him and virgil returned it before returning to his conversation with luna.

jemma stood up suddenly, knocking over her blocks, and approaching her dads. she clambered up roman’s legs, who snickered as she did so. with impressive grace, she balanced on his thighs and squished his cheeks between her tiny hands. 

“dad,” she said very seriously.

“yes, my shining jewel?” 

“i love you.” 

logan stifled a snort behind his fist when roman gasped out loud, using all those years of drama to his advantage. “me?” 

jemma, far accustomed at this point to her dad’s theatrics, huffed in pretend exasperation before planting a kiss on his nose. she proceeded to move on to patton, wiggling when he caught her around the waist before she could fall. sitting up, patton waited for her to speak, staring at her as if she’d hung all the stars in the sky.

“paw,” she said just as seriously.

“mhm?” he responded, far too overwhelmed with his adoration for his daughter to even speak properly. this, too, jemma was used to.

“i love you.” she kissed him square on the forehead. patton squeaked.

“we love you, too,” roman whispered, ruffling her hair. 

hey idk how many johavi fans there are but i saw the light of how good they are today and i’m now partway through writing a super angsty one-shot about them loosely based on hozier’s shrike and it’s already getting way longer than i meant for it to but. it’s certainly a thing that’s happening now and i have no control over it at this point, i was gonna work on the longer fic i have planned today and then this idea grabbed me and wouldn’t let go so that’s happening first lmao

Catastrophe Reigns (John Wick/Reader) Chapter 8

word count: 5.7k

warnings: NSFW!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! thank you for being so patient, i hope you guys enjoy this.

John sits on your bed while you freshen up, watching as you try to make yourself look as presentable and law-abiding as possible. But makeup isn’t going to cover up anything; they know, and you’re more than likely walking into a lion’s den. You pace back and forth in front of him as you blow-dry your hair, talking a mile a minute.

Keep reading

Fair warning, I have been such a nervous wreck tonight after posting that story I might end up deleting it tomorrow if my nerves don’t settle. I just don’t normally share my writings and don’t think they are that good. I don’t want to just delete it because I had fun writing it I’m just a giant ball of nerves right now and I’m a bit in panic mode so hopefully, my nerves settle but I feel like I need to leave an explanation in case my story disappears.


I do not feel that this needs a warning, but tw for mentions of vomit, blood, broken bones, and some violence!!

a thank you to Cas, for blessing my mind with this idea!


Connor’s breath is knocked out of him as he hits the brick wall with a firm smack. Falling to the ground just as quickly as he had hit the wall.

A metallic taste forms in his mouth, and he spits it out. The sickening pops and cracks of his bones when he was forced upon the wall fresh in his mind; fresh it was, fresh like the bile rising in his throat.

The vampire hunter pathetically tries to scramble up to face the vampire. Curses and grunts tumbling from his bloodied lips as he meets the ground again. He reaches for his gun, ready to put an end to the mother fucker that rendered him useless at this very moment.

The vampire’s worn, black adidas come into view. The sight makes Connor’s lips curl into a snarl, he can feel his blood boiling. If only he had called Anderson for backup. He quickly shakes the thoyght though, knowing exactly what the old man would say.

“There’s no use in huntin’ them down, Arkait,” Hank’s gravelly voice reasons into his ear, “They’re stronger, faster, and probably a helluva lot smarter than we are. We should lure them in, not chase them.”

“Connor Arkait,” he mumbles, sight blackening across the edges, “Born August 15th, 2011–,”

The adidas get closer. Connor drags in a painful breath, regretting that he smoked before this, regretting that he was so careless. He has failed the only thing that was of value to him.

He failed his mission.

“Tragically lost November 5th, 20–,”

He is cut off by someone, donning all black clothing, suddenly leaping before him. His mouth falls open as he realizes it’s another vampire. The voice sounds so familiar to him, yet he cannot pinpoint where he has heard it before.

“I thought I had told you to leave him alone,” the silhouette growls, “We had an agreement.”

“Yea, well, the agreement was on until your fucking prized possession tried to fucking kill me!”

Connor’s brows furrow, possession?

Prized possession?

“You will leave, and I will ensure that my human shall not attack you again,” the man’s voice is cold, calculated, “I will now take him to receive medical help, there is no doubt that you inflicted critical damage upon the poor thing.”

“You say that like it’s all my fuckin’ fault.”

“That is because it is, mutt. Now, if you’ll excuse me—,”

Connor holds his breath, the monster with glowing eyes bending down to greet him. Oh god, vampires are terrifying up close. It smiles at him, baring its teeth.

Arkait faints, and the next time he wakes, he is in the safety of the hospital bed.

Flowers are on his bedside, he hates them. However, this is the only exception he is excited for them. Chilled to the bone, he reads the note that was attached to the flowers for him. What he thought was a lead to the seemingly foolish vampire—

“Get well soon, my dearest human.


anonymous asked:

who are your favorite students to write for??

I’m assuming this is for bnha! I really like writing Tsuyu, Kirishima, Deku, Mirio, and Jirou, because they’re all balls of sunshine/very relatable lmao. These are my top faves though, because I love almost all the students! Thank you for asking!!

how ‘bout some trash poetry bc it’s just been sittin in my phone notes for a long old time like.. at least a year. there’s four of them i’ve attempted to arrange in a thematic progression but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯


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Away Again

I am 18 and I feel like I’m 80. Except I forgot to live all of the years in between.

I’ve based so much of my life on the death of my father - I’m like Batman but without the martial arts, intelligence, and fortune.

I want to be a whole person, but I don’t even know what that feels like.

I’ve got bones that crack every time I move and a name that leaves a bitter taste in people’s mouths.