guys how do you start writing fanfiction. how do you start writing normal fiction. how do you start writing. what even is writing. the English language is so fucked. we torture ourselves over characters we created and for what?
#ryland grace#phm#rocky the eridian#project hail mary spoilers



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guys how do you start writing fanfiction. how do you start writing normal fiction. how do you start writing. what even is writing. the English language is so fucked. we torture ourselves over characters we created and for what?
i think i’m gonna buy a CD player….
"do you ever think about taking the bite?" it's a question seemingly out of the blue, no lead up conversation at all, boyd's gaze having previously been firmly on the window and the trees beyond that. but now his attention has shifted, gaze on stiles; eyes curious but cautious. it's not that he regrets the bite, he had wanted it after all, but there are days he seriously doubts if the reasons back then had been enough to justify the struggle they'd been through so far.
starter call for @dciisy!
ʙᴜʙʙʟᴇ, ᴘᴏᴘ, ᴇʟᴇᴄ-ᴛʀɪᴄ. | ᴄᴏʀᴘꜱᴇ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛ & ʀʏᴀɴ
the chances of getting locked up while he was away at the youni were always up in the air, but he didn’t expect it to be for as long as it was. how annoying?
he had to stifle down his urge to “matty , ryaannn, mattyyyy, ryannnn” at the door like a cat— but he opted to knock instead, biting down on his lip beneath his mask and rocking on his heels a little as he waited.
he hoped they were as eager to see him as he was them … he was chill though! totally chill. totally normal … why was he holding his breath?
[ @little-ikea-waldo @iron-magee-giant ]
@calvaried || closed
holidays are rough. at least, that's what all the distressed self-help books on her coffee table say, somewhere under the blank post-it notes and scribbled-out lists and ripped-apart envelopes. helena's sister always said she opened mail like a raccoon going through the garbage. deborah doesn't say much of anything anymore, of course. so boxing day finds agent harper sprawled on her couch with a third bottle of miller lite held loosely in her grasp, and a boxing match on the tv just for the noise. that's funny, at least. boxing on boxing day.
not that she needs noise to fill the air in her apartment. a cigarette rests on a plate-turned-ashtray, and the wisp of smoke rising from it curls into the clouds of smoke and dust and general neglect that keep her nice and cozy in her wallowing. the blinds have a telltale skin of dust over them-- they haven't been opened in a long time-- and the whole scene is lit by the television and one dim yellow lamp. she sighs, glancing at a christmas card on the table, then focuses on the cracks in her wall. some fleeting, angsty metaphor comes to mind about foundations crumbling and is anything worth saving? but that's too pathetic even for her, so she thinks instead about nothing, letting the thick air bring her into its haze.
BRITNEY YEAH DOT GIF
@unworthyheart / liked.
"thanks for this." it's a murmur as he slumps into the seat, eyes already closing as he tips his head back carefully. buck's more than a little sore, and his raw throat leaves his voice scratchy, but he feels better than he had a few hours before. right now all he wants is his bed, and maybe some cuddles from his favorite dog in the entire world. "the team had to go finish their shift, and i didn't want to drag maddie out with the baby, ya know?" he hadn't even wanted to tell his sister that he'd been hospitalized again, but he knew if he didn't that chimney would, and that'd just lead to a lecture later on down the road. he wasn't even going to touch on the fact that he could've technically called anyone from the firehouse and they would've come ( bobby had specifically told him he could ), because he just didn't have the mental or emotional capacity to deal with why he hadn't. he knew that grant would come, with minimal questions, and only a pinch of exasperation.