#and immediately after that started adding things to my notepad app on my phone

[powdermelonkeg]

Novelist thoughts (aka I am holding myself accountable so help me)

I waited to make this post for over a month, just to make sure it wasn't a passing worldbuilding idea that I liked the thread of (I have a LOT of those, in the hundreds), but this one's stuck around and continued to develop into its own thing.

I need to state that this happens very, very rarely for me. Finding ideas is extremely easy, and finding ones I like enough to obsess over isn't much harder than that. The trouble is hanging onto it without getting bored—it has to develop, partly on its own, and hang onto my attention. As I get deeper into it, rather than approaching a topic and going "I need conflict from this, what can I do?" an idea that sticks long-term continues to give me threads to follow without my bidding.

My biggest (and arguably first) world like this is one called Oremus. I started it in October of 2018 after watching Mary and the Witch's Flower, and I'm still adding things to it to this day. It's a fun world I like to play with, from history to fauna to magic, and my roommate and I sometimes make mini-stories that take place in it that let me expand on it more. However, it's very much a kitchen sink sort of world; it started from a collection of concepts I just found vaguely cool and ran with, and some evidence of that can be seen in its construction—the names of different places having little cohesive identity, the bits and pieces borrowed from media I was into at its inception (which have evolved to become their own things, but still have transparent threads), the kinds of settings I like to explore with it.

This also plays into its size; while it's huge and expansive, with me doing things like making entire biomes just to account for the fact that I wanted giant foxes, there are parts of the world that have much more identity than others, and a cast of nearly a hundred unique characters with their own lives and stories. That's not a bad thing, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it's evidence of how much I've been able to grow as a writer over time, and how much practice I've had at making settings and people feel unique with minimal input.

The problem with it is, I built a world without a story to tell.

You could tell a lot of stories in Oremus, but it wasn't made to tell a story. Which means that the things I want to show about it are completely isolated from each other, and trying to build a novel out of it is a daunting task, if not outright impossible. Which country do I start in? What characters do I use? How will cameos of characters I like not derail whatever I'm trying to tell with it, knowing what they're doing at that moment but not being able to show its entirety?

I've tried writing that very story, and I can never really get past the first half of the first chapter, both because the characters I've decided are my protagonists didn't get the same treatment as the characters IN the world, and because I'd have to cut and change so much of the world I made, just to fit them, that it might as well not be that world at all.

I still love it. I still plan to continue to play around in it, build and crash empires and make more and more nuances between countries. But it's not novel-making material, just like a composition notebook wouldn't work as a movie poster.

Another world I've constructed from this feeling is on a much smaller scale, called Amara. That one's a fanfiction exclusive; it takes the world of Fullmetal Alchemist and gives it an opposite foil. For those of you who play Zelda, Amara is FMA's Lorule. The characters have the same names and faces, but a few different traits that set them apart, and the world they live in is dying.

Because it's so small, and because it's fanfiction only, it's very self-contained. It's easy to make it make a story if I want it to. But that then presents the flipside of the coin from Oremus; because it's fanfiction, it wouldn't work as a standalone piece. Even if I renamed everybody and used the world I built as I pleased, without the context FROM the original world, the way I've twisted it doesn't hold any weight to it.

Both of these have been instrumental in my ability to grow as a writer. I learned how to make complex characters. I learned how to craft plots that were interesting and hammer out plotholes—I have my roommate @doin-a-heckin-science to thank for that, since any characters we put into the setting WOULD find those plot holes by interacting with them and asking questions.

Back to my original point.

I think I've caught that shooting star again. It started from an idea, then gathered up more sparks as I thought about it and what it could mean. It's an original idea I've held for a month, building a world around it and giving it its own identity. And the new thing about this one is, I actually have a plot.

Not just a cool story to tell.

Not just characters I want to play with.

Not just an environment I want to show off.

I have an actual plot. With themes. I have subplots and foreshadowing and an ending. I have an outline.

I never make outlines.

I'm writing this here partly, as stated, to hold myself accountable. I love this idea and I don't want it to burn out, which so often happens with fresh new worlds once the novelty's worn off.

But another big part of it is excitement. It's a world I want to see on paper. It's a STORY I want to see on paper. It's something that's actually motivating me to read, and study, and practice, with the hopes of publishing it one day and signing copies, running a blog about its worldbuilding and conlangs.

I don't know how to end this essay thing off. It's just sort of an update on where I am in terms of…ME. It's a thrill and a daunting task and it's something I really, really look forward to.

I'm going to keep it under wraps, at first. I don't know what exactly I can say or not say without wrecking my publishing chances before they've started, and I don't want to disappoint people by talking about things I might have to axe later. But as I get closer and closer to making this book a reality, expect to see more details and ramblings and other such pieces of this puzzle I'm cutting.

Thanks for the read.

[odash17]

Favourite Numbers :)

"Did you know that if you can't stop your stream of thought at night, you can just write them down and think about it in the morning? It puts your mind at ease and you can sleep faster that way," I told him while staring at my fingers.

I wanted to stop talking because I felt like I was embarrassing myself. I had no idea if he has finally noticed that I only did that whenever I got nervous. That I'd just find some weird psychological fact when I didn't wanna start fidgeting.

"Really? And you've tried it before? And it worked?" he queried, seeming extremely interested like he always was.

"Yeah, I have and yes, it does. It gives your mind the reassurance that you can have that thought later when you wake up," I explained and raised my eyes to his.

I liked how his interest and casual conversation with him made my nerves die down.

"Where do you write? Like a notepad or something?" He asked after a brief moment of silence.

"Anywhere really. But I mostly write them as notes on my phone," I stated and before I knew it, I was taking out my phone, unlocking it, pulling up the app and showing him what I meant.

"Fifty-two notes," he said with a tinge of shock in his voice.

"I clean them out every week. Those are since last Thursday," I mumbled but almost immediately regretted saying that.

" 'I think burgers are weird. Why do they have both cooked and raw ingredients? It should decide whether it's cooked food or not already'," I watched as a smile slowly spread across his face.

He was getting in my head (quite literally) but I didn't mind at all.

" 'Am I the only one who wakes up and goes back to bed until the clock hit exactly seven just to go back to sleep after grabbing a snack on Saturdays?' " he chuckled at that one then added, "no you're not."

" 'I think Jax is an amazing person. He's kind and generous and has a lot more things than I can't type out right now. I hope I one day gather enough courage to tell him that," he said nothing in response to what he read, and didn't spare me a glance.

He just tapped his way to the next note while trying to fight the smile that was undoubtedly forming on his face.

" 'Jax has the most intriguing smile I've ever come across. I'm not exactly sure what's so interesting about it. All I know is I hope to one day to kiss the lips that form that smile'," his voice got quieter as he went through the words.

His eyes finally met mine and I sucked in a slow and really quiet breath at the intensity of his eyes.

I'd pay a million bucks to know what he was thinking.

But I didn't have to.

"The feeling's mutual," he muttered.

I froze.

But melted then evaporated when he suddenly leaned forward and... granted my wish.

Note number thirty-two.

My new favourite number.

.

.

.

>•<

My first random. Hopefully, first of many.

Not sure if it's gonna be part of anything bigger.

If there's any similar work anywhere, it is by pure coincidence.

Please do not copy my work

And do enjoy 😉

[angryschnauzer]

Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

 Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

 You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

 The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

 “Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

 “Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

 You glanced at the clock;

 “Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

 You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

 “You got any Chilli left?”

 “Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

 He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

 “No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

 “Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

 You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

 “Hey, you want a free muffin?”

 “I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

 The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

 “Have a good evening Detective”

 As he turned he smiled at you;

 “Call me Walter”

 -

 Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

 The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

 “Detective” you greeted him happily

 “Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

 “I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

 He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

 “What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

 “I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

 “Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

 “Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

 As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

 “... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

 He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

 “Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

 “Sure thing”

 Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

 “You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

 “I… I have no idea what that is…”

 “Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

 He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

 “You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

 He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

 “That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

 You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

 “Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

 -

 Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building. 

 Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

 The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

 He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

 “Fuck!”

 He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

 “Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

 Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

 “Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

 “You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

 “I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

 “I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

 Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

 “Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

 “Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

 You tighten your grip around his waist;

 “I wasn’t complaining…”

 There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

 He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

 “Leave those on…”

 You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

 As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

 When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

 “You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

 “You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

 Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

 “I need you inside me”

 “I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

 “I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

 With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

 “Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

 He paused, a smirk on his face;

 “You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

 “NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

 “You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

 “Please… please fuck me…”

 He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

 “Well, as you said please…”

 You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

 You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

 “Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

 Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

 “That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

 At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

 “I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

 Nodding you smiled;

 “That'd be nice”

 -

 A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

 “Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

 Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

 “Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

 You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

 “I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Part 2 >>>

[apathycarestostudy]

Motivate me to get my butt in gear friend !! Uni opens again in a month !! Must finish syllabus before then !! Must stop reading fics and being in denial! Help! (P.S ily :p♡)

Hello hello love. Here are some tips I think will help, mixed in with a bit of nagging, wrapped up with some tough love!

So here we are. First, I’d like to commend you for recognizing that it’s time to get back on the hamster wheel so soon. You’ve a month left, which is ample enough. 

Don’t beat yourself up with time lost

You might be thinking you should’ve gotten up sooner, or done more, or done something some time ago. That doesn’t matter anymore. Yes, I’m an advocate of owning up to your faults, but for one second - recognize it, acknowledge it, and then move the hell on. Never mull on it unless it poses a problem and mulling on it would fix it. So stop all those thoughts - make a firm decision that you will drop all berating, toxic, or otherwise negative thoughts at the door. It won’t go away soon, you’ll need to keep stopping yourself mid-thought, but try to get it down. It’s a simple thing to start with, and I believe you can do this much. My mom always tells me, once someone apologizes, take their apology and leave it at that. The resentment won’t go away quickly, but release it. And I believe when you apologize to yourself, you should forgive yourself, and release.

So please release it.

The three Ps I just made up - paper, pen & plan (or phone, pad & plan)

I tried lmao. Phones be ruining everything. If you didn’t get it tho, by pad, I meant notepad or memo or whatever’s on phones these days. Specialized apps, all of it. It’s just that none of them started with a P and I -

Get your preferred medium of...recording stuff, and don’t make a plan. Yet. I want you to write down a list of things you need to get down before the month is up. A sentence per task. For example:

Get more connections on LinkedIn

Save up 20% of my allowance

Finish a writing commission

Finish a course I signed up for

(..........)

So something like that. One liners you need to finish up. And then don’t plan yet. After you’re done listing everything that needs to get done, you split the page in half (or just write it next to it in parentheses on your phone like this) and write “constraints”. Not emotional ones at first - try and write a logical constraint. Like for the course I signed up for, the logical constraint would be I have no time for it anymore because I got something better - an internship opportunity - and the emotional constraint would be I’m not interested in it anymore, or I don’t wanna lol. So write up some logical constraints. Is the workload a lot? Are you family members sending you off to do stuff for them and you have no choice but to do them and forsake your time? Do you not have an empty notebook to get started? These are all valid hurdles you may face.

Now, if you have some that have no constraints yet, write your emotional ones. You don’t want to. You’d rather do something else. Fanfiction. All of that. 

Look back at your list. What’s causing the emotional ones? How can you get rid of the logical ones? Remove them, run away from them, address them, or ignore them - pick one.

Now, plan.

Distractions

So when I feel like I should get up and do something, I’m learning to seize that feeling prematurely and do it. I say prematurely because you know when the thought matures, you’re gonna talk yourself out of it or dismiss it, so you gotta grab that as soon as it crosses your mind. How to stop doing what you’re doing immediately? Remove access to the distraction. And I don’t mean use those apps - although if it works for you, go on with your bad self. If not, do the old school method of throwing your phone to the roof of your cupboard. 

Yeah. I had this period of time where nothing stopped me from indulging in fanficion - not even deadlines and consequences, which are the biggest things that drive me to do stuff, and the only way I could get over it was to throw my phone over the cupboard. I gave myself a hurdle to stop me from pulling it back towards myself, and not only that, imagine the shame of getting a chair, dragging it all the way to the cupboard, climbing up on that thing, and then pulling your phone down - just squeezing lemon juice in your damn eye and living with that burn. So, put a hurdle up.

(cupboard = dresser btw, not sure which word y’all use so)

You don’t need a whole lot to get started

Going back to not having an empty notebook. There was a time I needed one to get started, but I didn’t want to go out and buy one, and so I kept putting off my work and blaming the fact that I don’t have a notebook. You don’t really need the notebook to get started. I could’ve easily pulled out my laptop and used One Note or MS Word or whatever if I really wanted to work. I mean I hate using digital stuff, but I could’ve sucked it up if I really didn’t want to go out and really wanted to work. The right answer was I really didn’t want to work, not the notebook.

Just start. Screw the notebook, screw your shitty pen, screw the messy table - just start. Shove all the mess to the edge and cram your arms in that tiny space and just start. You don’t need highlighters or a bottle of water or quiet time or the lights dimmed three notches down or your face moisturized or your plants watered - just start.

Not saying all of that is unnecessary, or wouldn’t help, but when it comes down to it, you don’t need all that to start. Don’t waste your time preparing to study or work. Just start.

Just start. Get your scrappy paper that’s 1/4 cut in a weird angle and just start.

One thing is better than nothing

I know I’ve said that a whole lot. A WHOLE LOT. But it’s true, and you truly need to take that to heart. If you’ve scratched one thing off your list, that’s good. 

But here’s what I’d do if I felt like I needed to do more.

First, seize that feeling. Next, do more. Start a little mantra of, “Just one more!” and do it like you’re taking one more cookie out the cookie jar. One more cupcake. One more chip. One more practice question. Romanticize it. Say it like you desperately want it, even if you don’t and do it. Oftentimes it’s the start that has us feeling some type of way, but once you accept what it is - as in you start eating it a little more quickly - you’ll sink into it and release that feeling. Next thing you know, you’ll find yourself done with one more thing.

Still tho, one thing today is one thing off your plate. Celebrate that, and promise you’ll do one more - at that moment or some other time.

Lesson from Naruto: give yourself a self-rule!

So there was this character in Naruto that was a total failure. He didn’t make it into the ninja academy, so he decided to give himself a self-rule: “If I run 500 laps, I’ll be accepted as an alternate.” which means he’ll be placed as a back up in case an already accepted student drops out. His father finds out, scolds him, and says that’s not a self-rule. That’s a wish. A self-rule doesn’t involve anyone else. A failure to accomplish what you say is accountable to you. Not circumstance, not anyone else. 

His father says, “Because of that [a self-rule on your self only], you are able to gather your strengths and focus on your efforts...That is how a self-rule works!” So how does the character change it? “If I can’t do 500 laps on my hands, I’ll do 500 push-ups!”

You see what I’m going for? 

I am not saying do 500 laps on your hands - this is a ninja anime we’re talking about here - I’m saying apply a self-rule that keeps you accountable and feeds into your efforts. Say, “If I can’t do ten practice questions, I’ll do ten rounds of this example question!” Give yourself an alternative you have to do if you fail your first attempt, and have it be of the same magnitude. What happens if you can’t do both? Keep adding on of course! The character would say, “If I can’t do 500 laps on my hands, I’ll do 500 push-ups! And if I can’t do 500 push-ups, I’ll do 500 sit-ups!”

Limitations exist, and you may not be able to get it the first few times, but eventually, the character manages to do 5000 laps - and he falls tiredly into his father’s waiting arms.

Just a little nice bonus I thought would be fun to add. I do something like this, but not as well thought out of course - I’d say something like, “I’ll do process design questions right now, and if I give up half-way, chemical separation processes is waiting for me.”

I thought I’d stop here because it’s getting kind of ramble-y and I think this’ll be enough of a push to get you started. Maybe not a push even - a nice little pat from your friend that’ll evolve into a push by your fine self. You can do it. Just start LOL.

I’mma end this with a positive note from that same episode of Naruto. Here’s a quote from that father to his son when he asked him why he was so chipper when he failed so much and couldn’t be “strong” (as in overcome the obstacles in his way). I see this in our lives, be it with friendships, biting your tongue when your boss yells at you, or giving up after failing a class.

“True victory isn’t about winning from someone strong. It’s about defending what’s important to you!”

[fionnlydarling]

Interview

Tell me why I took weeks to start on this request, procrastinated for ages, and then decided it’d be a good idea to stay up until the crack of dawn and finally just get it done? 

Anyway, to the anon who requested this piece and anyone else who reads, I hope you enjoy! I feel a bit weird about this work but I just wanted to put it out and not delay any longer. If you want to read some of my scrambled thoughts on it I added a little author’s note at the end if you care to read it. If not, understandable. But enough of me. 

Happy reading! 

Request: “OK ok hear me out, I have major feels after that pic of Fionn at the opening of "Admissions". Reader is a journalist and interviews Fionn, reader underestimates weather (not used to the unpredictability that is weather in Britain)and Fionn offers a jacket (boi has layers upon layers so it don't matter) which they accept and tries to give back at the end of the night, only to get asked out.”

Pairing: FionnxReader

Words: 3282

If you feel so inclined, use the tag “fionnly darling” on my blog to read more of my works. I’m open to requests! 

So it’s been a bit of a shit day.

Alright.

To be fair, maybe you shouldn’t be whinging so much. You’re only twenty years old and you’ve got a nice job watching films and interviewing attractive and interesting celebrities. It’s a job other people would kill to have, not to mention it pays the bills.

It’s just not exactly what you thought you’d be doing in life at this point.

It if were up to you, you’d be a foreign correspondent bringing the world’s events to home, reporting with the dedication and insight of badass journalists like Christiane Amanpour or Marie Colvin.

Instead, you’re outside Trafalgar Studios holding a phone with the sound record app open and a notepad in hand, shivering where you stand because you’re a fool who underestimated London weather in March and didn’t bring a coat, thinking your tights and long-sleeved dress would be enough. Add in the fact that your feet are killing you because you’re wearing heels and you hate heels, but your boss had told you to dress up so you hadn’t had much choice.

You were sent to watch Joshua Harmon’s new play Admissions and later write a little about it, but you know what your boss really wants is for you to talk to some of the celebrities who would be attending the premier. Personally, you think it’d be more interesting to review the play than try and find out more about celebrity love lives, but that’s the job.

You’re in a brief break between interviews and you glance at your phone worriedly, noting that you’re at 5%, but you’re not sure how long that’s going to last even on power-save mode. You comfort yourself with the thought that if you do end up having to resort to writing notes by hand, at least your fingers will be warm.

You look up to see there’s a guy walking over to your little spot along the press line and you immediately note it looks like he didn’t get the ‘dress to impress’ memo. He’s actually got a beanie and hoodie on under a Carharrt jacket that literally has open seams in the right pocket.

You’re wondering if this bloke is another ill-prepared journalist like you but the closer he gets you recognize this guy isn’t just lost and wandering on the wrong side of the red carpet. That’s Fionn Whitehead from Bandersnatch and he’s coming straight towards you.

“F-Fionn!” you say

He nods at you and for a moment you forget that only a second ago you were freezing because the next thing you know Fionn’s standing right in front of you and you’re a bit speechless because, fuck, he’s a lot more attractive than you’d thought, even as the most under-dressed person at this event.

“Hello,” Fionn says, and that’s yet another distraction because he has a lovely voice, deeper than you’d think.

“H-Hi.”

Fionn looks a little confused and rightly so. There’s a beat of silence that maybe goes on a bit too long and Fionn’s sort of smirking sort of smiling at your gaping face before you shake yourself out of it and introduce yourself and the magazine you’re affiliated with before diving right into it, asking what he’d thought of the play.

Fionn nods amenably, talking about how he enjoyed seeing Harmon’s work on stage and how he’d been happy to come and support a couple of friends he had that were involved with the play.

You’re mind’s racing with any bit of research you might have previously done on Fionn and remember a play of his you watched when you first got your position at the magazine.

“So, you obviously have an interest in theater. You, Ella Purnell and Manish Gandhi were great in Natives. Is there any more theater work in the future for you?”

Fionn blinks, as though he hadn’t been expecting that particular question, the corner of his lips pulling up into a smile. “Thanks, I didn’t think too many people still remembered Natives. To answer your question though, not at the moment no. No theater work but I’m totally open to it. Like most actors I guess I found a passion for acting through theater, I was in a theater group as a teenager for a bit and all of that.”

Inside your preening a little, glad you’ve managed to ask Fionn something he doesn’t typically still get asked about and that he no longer looks as bored as he had when he was first walking over along the press line. It’s enough to almost distract you from how bloody cold it is but you still shiver a little before speaking again.

“So if not theater, what can we look forward to seeing you in next?”

You swear, you’re really doing your best to listen to Fionn’s upcoming projects as he lists movie titles and directors, mostly because you want to keep up with his career, but the cold really is starting to drive you past the point of uncomfortability and it’s hard to concentrate, nevermind that Fionn’s enticingly handsome and that’s not helping you focus on what he’s saying either.

“That’s exciting, I’ll be looking forward to that,” you say when he’s done. You blush a little because you’d meant to say ‘we’ meaning everyone at the magazine, but you quickly brush past that. “So, it’s been a couple months since it was released but people are still raving about it so, of course, I have to ask about Bandersnatch.”

“You’re not going to make me play some sort of game are you?” Fionn smiles, nose scrunching adorably.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you. You know he was joking but in most interviews you’d seen of him, Fionn always seemed so serious.

“No, no games, I promise,” you say. “I’m just curious, obviously Charlie Brooker is brilliant and I know you’ve spoken on what it’s like to work with him, but I’m interested also in what it’s been like working alongside Will Poulter who’s also very young and talented like you and just what it’s like making a name for yourselves in film when your career are in this sort of unique beginning stage and just taking off.”

Fionn looks pleased to be reminded of Will and he doesn’t skip a beat on raving about Will as an actor and as a person, even mentioning that they still keep in touch, but you don’t miss out on how Fionn had winced embarrassedly when you’d mentioned that his career was taking off and how he carefully doesn’t speak on it. You leave it be for now.

When Fionn’s finished you go on, “Obviously you were amazing in Dunkirk and it was your big break, but Black Mirror has such an enormous reach with audiences, I wonder if life has changed at all for you since it’s release?”

It’s as you’re asking that question that you notice, Fionn seems maybe a little distracted as well. Since he’s walked over he’s been looking very directly into your eyes, which is nice but not always common when you’re interviewing people. You’d thought that maybe he was just very engaged, and maybe he was, but now, you’re not sure if it’s your imagination, but is he distracted gazing at your face?

“Um, not really. I mean, I just kind of keep on doing what I’m doing,” Fionn says slowly after a moment, focusing back on your question. “I mean it’s nice to hear that so many people liked it so much.”

“I imagine you’re getting more and more recognized on the street,” you say, trying to keep a friendly smile on your face but you’re afraid it might come across as somewhat mad because it’s gotten so cold you almost can’t feel your fingers and you’re shivering so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if your teeth were chattering.

Fionn shrugs and nods at the same time, and you can’t help but think that maybe he’s a little embarrassed and it’s actually quite adorable. “I mean, a little more yea, that’s been strange.”

“I mean, sorry if I’m prying but you’ve definitely become more familiar over the last couple of months and y-you obviously don’t have any social media, I imagine y-you don’t mean for it but the m-mysteriousness about you p-probably has p-people only more interested in g-getting to know you as a p-person.”

Great, now you’re making an outright fool of yourself. You’re rambling, because you’re cold, but not only that, your teeth are actually chattering and Fionn’s staring at you like he’s confused as well and you’re about to just keep pushing through the cold when he stops you.

“Are you alright?”

“W-what do you m-mean?” you ask, feigning obliviousness even as your teeth chatter.

“Just, you seem a bit cold,” Fionn smiles. You don’t think he’s laughing at you but he definitely finds this amusing.

How are you supposed to get on the same level as Christiane Amanpour or Marie Colvin who’ve literally recorded and taken notes for their writing with literal wars going on in the background, and you can’t stand a bit of a chill.

“You’re avoiding giving me a straight answer,” you accuse teasingly, deflecting the attention from yourself, or you try to at least even as you’re literally shaking in front of him.

“I swear I’m not trying to avoid answering your questions,” Fionn laughs through his concerned look. “I’m just genuinely worried you’re about to freeze to death right in front of me.”

“I’m fine, I swear-”

But you’re obviously not fine because you shake so hard your phone slips out of your grasp and clatters harshly onto the ground. You curse before you can catch yourself and it’s with a blushing face that you start to bend to grab it but Fionn beats you to it.

“Let me,” he says, bending down to pick up your phone and he looks at it for a moment before wincing and then looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, but I think you might need a new screen.”

You wilt a little looking at your phone Fionn’s offering back to you and he’s right. The screen is cracked and black.

“How appropriate this happens when we were just talking about Black Mirror,” you say dryly and Fionn bursts out laughing.

It’s a nice laugh, enough to ease the annoyance at having to get a new screen and you can feel yourself laugh as well. It’s a small moment, but with your phone dead and now laughing together, it’s strange but you feel like you’re just two people right now, not an actor and an interviewer.

You wonder if it’s just all in your head but as Fionn calms down from his laughter, his eyes are still bright as they meet your gaze and there’s just something about it that makes your stomach tighten. It makes you nervous, because at this point you’ve interviewed dozens of actors, some of them famous A-list actors and many of them very, very handsome, and it’s not that Fionn isn’t talented or handsome as well, but no one who you’ve interviewed has made you feel this way with just their laugh.

“Sorry about your phone, I don’t mean to laugh,” Fionn says clearing his throat and offering you a bashful smile.

“It’s fine, it’s a work phone anyway” you say honestly, taking the phone back from Fionn, aware of how warm his fingers are as they brush against your for a moment. “If it hadn’t been so cold-”

“Here,” Fionn says and he starts shrugging out of his brown jacket and it takes you a moment to figure out what he’s doing but once you’ve figured it out you’re blushing even more.

“Oh, no I couldn’t-”

But any other words of protest die in your throat because then Fionn’s reaching around you in what could almost be a hug as he drops his jacket over your shoulders. For a few unreal moments he’s impossibly close and not only can you feel the warmth radiating off him, your senses are completely overwhelmed by him.

It’s over quickly and then he’s stepping back, a teasing smile on his face that probably mirrored yours from earlier. “It’s fine, I’m pretty well layered.”

You grin because it’s true, looking at his outfit again. It shouldn’t work and almost doesn’t, but somehow does? Though you’re not sure if you’re biased because he really is handsome even pale and freckled and you think you might’ve thought he looked handsome in just about anything. When you look up at Fionn again he’s smirking and you blush because you know it must have looked like you were just checking him out which to be fair, you were.

“Well, I guess our interview’s over,” you say, even as you hate the fact that whatever moment you’ve had with him is about to end. You try to make light of it, joking, “I guess you don’t have to answer any of the questions I was going to ask about your personal life.”

“Shame,” Fionn says and you blush again. “Well, about your question…off the record?”

“Oh,” you say, thrown off a little before shaking yourself out of your daze and focusing again on what Fionn’s saying. “Yeah, of course.”

Fionn thinks about it for a moment before saying, “It’s interesting because for me, it’s not me trying to be humble or anything but it really just is about the work and my enjoyment of it. It’s really strange thinking that people watch what I’ve been in, and obviously I’m really happy when people enjoy it, it’s just odd to think that after people sometimes want to know more about me when I’m just...me.”

It’s a surprisingly honest answer. It’s been rare that you’ve met actors that don’t have social media, especially any as young as Fionn is. Usually when actors don’t have social media it’s because they simply have no interest in it, or so they say. You think this must be the same for Fionn, but you also get the sense that there’s more layers to this guy than meets the eye.

You’re curious about him, more so than you usually are about the people you’ve had to interview before, and again you feel that nervous twitch in your belly because just looking into Fionn’s eyes you feel like you can get lost in them trying to know him. You know you need to pull yourself back before you really fall in.

You smile at him, “I mean, you still didn’t tell me very much about you the person, not the actor, but I’ll take it.” Fionn laughs and shrugs and it’s just so endearing you don’t stop yourself from saying, “And for the record, I’m sure just you is great and worth wanting to know more about.”

Fionn’s looking at you with that little smirk and you can see him thinking about something as he stares at you. You’re on the point of saying how nice it was to meet him and saying goodbye, but then...

Fionn laughs a little, his hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, “Well, maybe you and I could grab a drink and you can get to know me better - off the record of course - and maybe I can get to know more about you?”

You blink, surprised and wondering if you’d heard him right, but Fionn’s still smiling at you and his cheeks have gone a bit pink as he waits for your answer.

“Fionn!”

“Fionn!”

“Fee-on!”

“Fionn!”

You both look over at the journalists yelling out Fionn’s name and you’re starkly aware of how much more time Fionn has spent with you than most people going down the press line. There’s a commotion going on the other side of you two as well and when you turn to look over you wilt a little because Iwan Rheon is here and he’s slowly approaching your spot in the press line and you know your boss would have a field day if he found out that the Game of Thrones star was at this event and you didn’t get a single word with him because you were too distracted getting asked out by Fionn Whitehead.

You and Fionn look at each other and you just know you’re both wishing you were anywhere else not surrounded by all these actors and interviewers and flashing lights and cold night, but it’s part of both your worlds, meeting people all the time for just a handful of moments before having to move on. But both you and Fionn don’t want to just move on.

“I have to step in to this after-party thing for a little while, congratulate everyone on their work and all of that, but maybe we could meet up after?” Fionn asks again, and he sounds so genuinely eager for you to say yes.

Your mind’s racing because you’ve never been in this situation before with work and you’re frozen because maybe this isn’t entirely professional of you but Fionn’s looking at you with those bright green eyes and then he says, “Somewhere warm, I promise.”

He grins as he says it and it makes your heart warm and so you just go with you’re feeling and nod. “Okay! We’ll meet up.”

Fionn grins so wide that any regret you think you might have felt about accepting an invitation like this while at work just melts away.

Your work phone is obviously dead and Iwan Rheon is only getting closer, so you and Fionn quickly arrange to meet up at a nearby pub in about an hour. You’re dizzy with the thought that you’re actually doing this, you’re going on a date with someone you were meant to be interviewing for work, and not just anyone but Fionn Whitehead.

Once you’re both sure you’ve got the same pub in mind, Fionn smiles softly at you, “I’ll see you soon.”

You grin and then he’s stepping away, moving on and nearly at the next interviewer when you realize.

“Wait, your jacket!” you call and Fionn turns around but only to grin brightly at you.

“Hold onto it for me. It’s a cold night. You can give it back on our next date,” he says and your heart nearly stops.

“Next date?” You squeak, wondering how you’re already talking about next dates when you’ve only just agreed to go on one date that hasn’t even begun.

Fionn just grins and then he’s having to turn to the next better-prepared interviewer asking him questions about Bandersnatch.

So you’re not exactly Christiane Amanpour or Marie Colvin and you still think you’re a bit of a fool for not having come better prepared for a cold London night, but then again, that’s what got you here bundled up in a worn but warm Carhartt jacket and a date with Fionn Whitehead in just an hour, all in the same night. So can you really be upset with how the night turned out?

You blush and smile softly to yourself, hoping Iwan Rheon doesn’t catch on to the fact that you’re only half-listening to whatever he’s saying, because as handsome and charming as he is, your eyes can’t help straying further down to the green eyed Surrey boy you were just talking to until he’s moved down so far the press line he’s out of your line of sight.

That is, at least until you meet up with him again later tonight.

You’re no longer cold as you interview people for another hour. You’re warm with Fionn’s jacket and the possibility of where the night will take you.

Author’s Note: So this was actually really difficult for me to write and I’m not totally satisfied with this and I don’t know if I ever will be just because I found it really hard using so much dialogue in this way with Fionn who is a real person who we know so little about and who’s just so private.  Obviously I don’t at all know what Fionn makes of social media, his self-view as a person and actor, how people view actors, etc. All I know is homeboy just really likes his privacy and it even felt really odd writing this piece in particular because of what I had Reader asking him as an interviewer. 

I’m still of course willing and wanting to write more FionnxReader works and despite the challenge I enjoyed writing this, I just felt I had to put a little disclaimer out there. I have no idea how Fionn’s mind works and I’m not trying to project anything onto his personality or who he is. An idea just popped into my mind from the request made and I went with it. Hope it comes across alright! 

[iwriteficsnottragediesladies]

I Saw the Signs

Request: I don’t know if this is offensive?? (I hope not :[ ) but can I get some Brendon x Deaf!Reader ? Like maybe meeting on a train and Brendon tries to talk but the reader is like “hey I can’t hear”

A/N: I consulted my two deaf friends to see if they thought writing a deaf character would be disrespectful (didn’t tell them it was me who was writing it, though), and they were actually excited about it! As long as it’s accurate, they were happy to see that they would be represented in fanfiction :) This fic flips back and forth between the reader and Brendon, so hopefully it still makes sense flow-wise. Enjoy!

Brendon

Brendon stood in the aisle of the subway car, holding onto the overhead bar as the train bounced along. He was on his way home and it was pretty late, so the car was practically empty. The subway came to a grinding halt and the doors slid open.

He watched as you entered. He smiled at you and the smile you returned was one of the most gorgeous things he had ever seen.

He took out his phone and swiped through his apps, attempting to occupy himself. It was no use, because he was distracted by how beautiful you were. He was wearing his ridiculously tight pants that girls seemed to love, so he hoped maybe you were checking him out too. There was something about you that he found so interesting, but he wasn’t sure exactly what.

Reader

You stepped onto the train and a guy standing in the aisle immediately catches your eye. He sends you a sweet smile and you happily return it. He looks down at his phone and you take it as an opportunity to look him over, especially in those ridiculously tight pants.

You wish you could say something to him. You’re sure he probably can’t sign, and you don’t want to hand your phone over to some stranger on the subway. Oh well.

You get off at your stop and head towards the stairs.

Brendon

You got off at the next stop, and Brendon was kind of sad to see you go. He wished he had worked up the courage to talk to you, strike up a conversation. As you stepped off, he watched your subway pass fly from your purse and dance to onto the floor. Brendon immediately picked it up.

“Oh, hey,” he said, “You dropped this.”

Your back was turned to him and you were now on the platform, walking away. Brendon ran out the door after you.

“Hey, wait!” He called. He was now directly behind you.

“Wait!” He saw that you still didn’t acknowledge him so he walked up alongside you and gently placed his hand on your shoulder. 

Reader

All the sudden someone is touching your shoulder and you jump halfway across the room.

Being a girl in the city at night is scary. Being a deaf girl in the city at night is even worse. You realize it’s the guy from the train.

Brendon

“Sorry, sorry!” Brendon apologized quickly, holding up your ticket, “You dropped this.”

A gasp escaped your parted lips and a smile took over your face. You take it in your hand. Brendon decided it was now or never.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Brendon started, “You’re so beautiful. I was wondering if maybe I could have your number?”  He began to speak at the speed of light, his normally cool attitude fading into uncertainty. He didn’t look up to notice the puzzled expression on your face. “I mean, not like, you know, a booty call thing, I mean actually just so we can talk or maybe meet up or something like that—"

You place your fingertips lightly on his chest, signaling to stop. He held his breath, pleasantly surprised by your touch but simultaneously confused.

Reader

You can tell he is apologizing for scaring you, then he holds up your ticket. Oh my god, you hadn’t even realized you dropped it. You are so thankful and you can’t help but smile gratefully. The guy continues to talk and you feel bad for him. You would have to break it to him that you had no idea what he was saying. It always made people feel so embarrassed. You push your fingertips to his chest to stop him.

Once he silenced himself, you pull out your phone and open the notepad.

“Hi, I’m Y/n. Thank you for saving my pass! I’m deaf, so I can’t hear what you’re saying. Can you type it for me?”

You hand it over to him and sure enough, you watch the flush of embarrassment fill his cheeks.

Brendon

Oh. Now Brendon knew why you didn’t respond when he was calling out to you, and how he had startled you, despite making quite a ruckus. His cheeks pinked up, embarrassed that he had just talked to you, asked you out, and you didn’t even know.

He had a second chance—risk asking you out again, or play it off and say goodbye. Some sort of confidence came over him.

“Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Brendon.”

He stopped typing and looked up at you, biting his lip in thought. You cocked your head with question in your eyes. Fuck it, he thought to himself. It was now or never. He added.

“This is kind of weird, but could I have your number? I’d love to meet up with you sometime.”

He handed it back to you. He saw you read it with little expression and he waited with baited breath. Oh no, what if he had crossed the line? Was she creeped out?

Reader

He was typing. Suddenly he paused and looked at you for a moment, biting his lip. Dear god he was so attractive. He then looked down and started to type again. He gave it back to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Brendon. This is kind of weird, but could I have your number? I’d love to meet up with you sometime.”

You read it and play it completely cool. To be honest, you kind of want to screw with him, just to be flirtatious and cute. So, you pretend to be completely unimpressed and ask for his phone.

Brendon

He understood your simple sign of “telephone” and saw that you were pointing to his pocket, signaling for him to give it to you. Brendon obeyed, even unlocking it for you. He had no idea what to expect. He watched you tap away.

Reader

You kept a straight face while secretly entering your phone number, complete with cheesy heart and wink emojis, and hand it back to him.

Brendon

Brendon looked down to see you had filled out a contact in his phone.

Y/n <3 ;)

Brendon looked back to you and you were wearing that beautiful smile.

He felt your hand on his shoulder, fingers running down his arm as you started to walk past him. He smiled back and giggled, turning as you went.

Reader

You decide to leave him hanging, leaving the power of contacting you in his hands.

You made your way up the stairs and couldn’t stop smiling, your face aglow. You’re very glad you took the train that night.

Brendon

He was then alone and ran his fingers through his hair with a chuckle. Goddamn.

A/N: I hope you liked this little one shot! Like/reblog if you’re feelin’ it!

[bluebirdflyingby-blog]

tips for recieving a cancer diagnosis and beginning treatment

I wrote the advice below as a response to a facebook group I’m in, as a massive number of people in there have been sent for tests, diagnosed and starting treatment. Most of the advice is from my experience as a British teen in the nhs system but I have tried to make it as accessible to everyone. Someone in the group then suggested that I put it on a blog so others could see it.

As someone who has been going through cancer treatment on and off since February 2015, i thought i would post a few tips/some advice to dealing with cancer and treatment. this is not everything that has helped but a things i can think of off of the top of my head.

1. The doctors appointment where you find out if you are clear or do have cancer, take a friend/family member if you can. I was quite shocked when i found out (not as shocked as I would have been if I hadn't had the meeting in a building called 'the macmillan cancer centre') and as a result didn't take in a lot of what was being said. Also it's nice to have someone for comfort. If you do have to go alone, ask for some leaflets/pamphlets and ask for them to write down keywords to reread at a later date. 2. acclimatise yourself to the word cancer. It gets spoken often in oncology. I spent the first month flinching whenever i heard it and probably looked a bit strange. If you want call the big c, the battle, anything really but get used to word and what it means. 3. In the uk at least, you will get a key worker whose job it is, is to support you while you receive treatment. They will explain any questions you have, support you and be your point of contact while at home. They will also organise home visits from a local community care team if needed. They are generally there to help 4. Write questions down to ask at appointments! Because I was still a minor when i started my treatment, my mum came with me to everything (still does). She would often wake up in the middle of the night with questions and forget them in the morning. She started to keep a notepad with her to jot down anything she wanted to ask. 5. Things tend to move quickly once started so it's like a whirlwind a bit, the calendar app on the phone is wonderful - it sends reminders and treatments/appointments can be added or changed immediately. 6. You'll probably get a permanent intravenous line inserted. I can tell you i was so nervous about having it put in and then accidentally knocking it but its a fairly painless procedure and you quickly adapt to having it in. 7. Before each chemo you get a load of slightly embarrassing questions asked. The quicker you realise everyone has to be asked them and that no other patient particularly cares that you're constipated the easier your life will be. 8. Take a few books, a kindle, cards, headphones, a tablet or laptop with you each time. There is a LOT of waiting around and it can get really boring really quick. I ended buying a netflix subscription and watch that while i'm at the hospital. 9. I've also had radiotherapy, which has to be done in the exact same spot each day. Because of were my cancer was, i had to have a stretchy mask thing made of my head and shoulders. It does feel weird to make and put it on but some hospitals allow you to make one over your hand to show you how it works. I made a rude gesture in my practise one. Radiotherapy is also a lot quicker than chemo (mine was for 5 minutes each day) although its usually more frequent. 10. Travelling to and from the hospital can quickly get costs adding up. See if you can claim back your travel expenses from the hospital - not everyone can, but many people qualify and don't even know. 11. In fact ask what benefits, help, grants, money, that you may be entitled to. (Personally i have a social worker that i can ask for help, as where i stay while having treatment, requires one of their own to be assigned to the patient) 12. After returning from treatment, my mum and i find it helpful to have cooked dinner the day before and reheat it or if someone else can cook it, get them to cook. 13. Macmillan are genuinely there to help! They have councillors to talk to (for you and your family), advice to give, help to fill in forms and if they have a drop in centre at the hospital, you can go have a cuppa. 14. After a treatment i haven't had before, i find it handy to have a bowl, a bottle of water and anti-sickness tablets by my bed incase i am ill in the night. 15. Also prevention is key - if you are given anti-sickness tablets i would take them on a schedule for a few days (your nurse will help with a plan, when they explain what the tablets do) as noone feels like popping pills when they're vomiting. 16. Don't be afraid to ask questions or to have things re-explained. The staff are there to help and would hate for you to become ill over a misunderstood/unasked question. In the words of keith lemon, if you don't ask, you don't get. 17. A sense of humour is pretty much essential and your cancer experience will be much more enjoyable *for a lack of a better word* with laughter. 18. Be kind to yourself- let yourself sleep for an extra couple of hours. Satisfy your food craving. Take it easy. The physical side alone of fighting cancer is an immense challenge and allowing your body to rest up is one of the best things you can do. 19. On the days i have treatment, i tend to have a substantial breakfast or lunch depending on whether my chemo is late morning or mid- afternoon. Then in the evening (after chemo) i have a smaller blander meal. With small snacks such as cereal bars, chopped fruit, crisps, basically stuff you can pick at over several hours. 20. If the treatment you are on will make you lose your hair, buzzcut it and wear a pillowcase (or shower cap) round your head to bed. Saves getting hair on your pillow case and having to change it every single day (hair will get embedded in the pillow - sticking out at angles to poke your face and it will hurt!)