I was today years old when I found out that the chapter count on ao3 will take you to the last chapter
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I was today years old when I found out that the chapter count on ao3 will take you to the last chapter
dear brain: why do we continue to have a visceral reaction to so many things including nothing at all
*sweats* >_>; ...So, what had happened was-
gifted child syndrome sucks, i fit so many of the characteristics of one and i felt that earlier today when i got a 96% on a test, especially after revising a whole bunch of stuff, and it kicked in and i was just internally like...”i could’ve done so much better, this isn’t good enough”
I’m working on a comic rn..
And this tiny Roman in the background is basically the favorite thing I’ve drawn ever
YES! AFTER FOUR HOURS OF DOWNLOADING, I CAN FINALLY PLAY THE REMASTERED BORDERLANDS 1!!!!
*Renames entire cast of Beetle Clan OCs because their current names are historically inaccurate even though Laika totally didn’t name any of their samurai characters based on the naming system the samurai used because that’s too small of a detail to worry about in a fantasy stop-motion film that borrows from various time periods of Japan’s history.*
Your doing NaNoWriMo??? I must have missed that! I think that I read you're not supposed to share large portions of the story before the end of the month. Could you maybe post a tiny bit to show us what you are writing??
I am indeed doing NaNoWriMo this year! :) I’ve mentioned it… twice? Three times? I think? …maybe.
I waffled a little bit on sharing, just because… this is my first year doing NaNoWriMo and I’m a little bit worried about being unable to finish/staying on point (I need a Taskmasteeeeerrrrrr…). Hopefully showing even a LITTLE bit will ensure that I see the project through to the end, though… XD;;
++
It could have been worse, the teen reminded himself as he inspected a particularly ugly road rash that ran along the outside of his arm. Considering what happened… it could have been a lot worse.
As the whiskey-eyed sixteen year was taking inventory, the door to his makeshift hospital room eased open and Stiles lifted his gaze to see—a goddess, strawberry blonde hair falling in graceful waves over the milky-pale curve of a shoulder, hazel eyes too large and still accenting the delicate lines of her face–
And Stiles blinked, blinked again, and something snapped within reality’s confines, details and perceptions reorienting and shifting from Fae-touched to truth–and instead of a springtime goddess, colors touched with moss and the barest hint of gold, there stood a girl: still lovely, but not supernaturally so—and eerie all that same, now painted in graveyard shades while a skull’s rictus grin hovered faintly over her features.