#exceprts

[danielleelizabethhh]

“Have you ever just sat amongst nature and tuned into all the signs and sounds around you?”

-d.n

[batboys-cumdumpster]

There is nothing more beautiful than the love between Feyre and Rhysand.

“I watched him consume every spoonful, his eyes darting between where I stood and the soup. When he was done, he set down his spoon. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” he said at last. “I was going to tell you what I’d decided the moment I saw you on the threshold.” Rhys twisted in his seat toward me. “And now?” Aware of every breath, every movement, I sat in his lap. His hands gently braced my hips as I studied his face. “And now I want you to know, Rhysand, that I love you. I want you to know … ” His lips trembled, and I brushed away the tear that escaped down his cheek. “I want you to know,” I whispered, “that I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belongs to you. And I am honored—honored to be your mate.” His arms wrapped around me and he pressed his forehead to my shoulder, his body shaking. I stroked a hand through his silken hair. “I love you,” I said again. I hadn’t dared say the words in my head. “And I’d endure every second of it over again so I could find you. And if war comes, we’ll face it. Together. I won’t let them take me from you. And I won’t let them take you from me, either.” Rhys looked up, his face gleaming with tears. He went still as I leaned in, kissing away one tear. Then the other. As he had once kissed away mine.”

[mk-wizard]

Transformers Excerpts: "Raising" Mikaela

At Prowl's hideout (which has been outfitted to accommodate his KiSS Player Mikaela), he has her seated on a chair as he sits across from her looking stern...

Prowl: Let me get this straight. You trespassed on private property- Mikaela: We were just standing on the lawn in front of the building. Prowl:... You disturbed the peace by rioting- Mikaela: They wouldn't listen to us no matter how much we tried to talking to them face to face. Prowl:... You damaged the CEO of New Woman Cosmetics car- Mikaela: His driver was trying to run us over. Prowl:... And when he stepped out, you threw a dead frog in his face. Mikaela:............ Prowl: Please tell me that was NOT on purpose. Mikaela: Um.... Prowl: *rubs his temples* Mikaela Banes, I understand that you are trying to bring attention to how their factory is damaging the environment, specifically the local park, but resorting to being a thug is NOT an effective way to get your point across. Mikaela: Every time we tried to talk and do the things the reasonable way, they'd shoot us down, Prowl. Slipstream: Wait, did you really try everything? Mikaela: We tried phone calls, letters, petitions, emails and we even tried coming to the office in person to just talk. Prowl: Mikaela, that doesn't matter right now. Slipstream: Yes it does, Prowl. *turns back to her* So you did all that? Mikaela: We even had pictures and a power point ready, but they wouldn't listen. We only resorted to rioting outside with chants and signs because it really was our last resort. Slipstream: That's not right! Prowl: I agree. You should have come to me. Mikaela: I did that too and even YOU shot me down! Slipstream: What?! Prowl, is this true? Prowl: I did not shoot you down, Mikaela! You were catching me at bad times! Mikaela: Yeah, that seems to happen a lot with you. Prowl: Mikaela! Slipstream: Oh no, you don't! She has a point! You can't tell the girl that you're always here for her, but then say she was catching you at bad times! Either you're here for her or you're not! Prowl: Slipstream, I AM here for her and right now, I'm trying to discipline her! Slipstream: So you have time to discipline and punish, but not be there beforehand?! Prowl: I'm trying to put her on the right path! Slipstream: You need to GUIDE her and from what I am hearing, she was trying to be on it, but no one would listen including you, Prowl! You always talk and lecture, but you need to listen too! Prowl: I do listen when it's important! Slipstream: And Mikaela cause and concern for Witwicky isn't?! Prowl: I didn't say that! Slipstream: That's exactly what you are saying when you say you only listen to her when it's important! Prowl: Slipstream, will you stop making me into the bad guy here! Mikaela committed a crime! Slipstream: Only because the law and order as well as those who represent it failed her! Prowl: Are you actually enabling her behaviour?! Slipstream: No! I'm taking the time to understand it! Things are not black and white! Prowl: I never said they were! All I am saying is that wrong is wrong even when it's done with good intentions! She needs to learn that! Slipstream: It's not the only thing she needs! Prowl: I know that! I'm trying to do right by her! Slipstream: And I'm not?! Prowl: I didn't say- Mikaela: *gets up* SHUT UP!! I'm not worth fighting over like this! I'm not even your kid! You don't have to care about me! Stop going at each other's throats all the time! *she runs away in tears*

Later....

Prowl: *knocks on the door by tapping it with his finger* Mikaela? Mikaela: Leave me alone! Prowl:... Sigh, Mikaela, I'm sorry. We're both sorry. We're supposed to be the adults and we made fools of ourselves. You've been through enough and... you deserved better than to see us like that. You... You also deserved my attention when you needed it. Calling out New Woman for polluting the town is important to you and for good reason. Don't get me wrong. I still say you should not have resorted to breaking the law, but... I... I understand why you thought you had to. Mikaela:.... Slipstream: Mikaela, maybe we don't have to care about you, but we choose to just like you chose to care about the local wildlife. You're a brilliant young femme and you're a born fighter. A person like you deserves care and support, and you have ours. Always. For what it's worth, even though I'm not your mother, I often wish I was because... you're exactly what I always dreamed of in a daughter. Prowl:.... Slipstream... Mikaela: *she opens her door* Is that why between the both of you, you're ok with a lot of the things I do? Slipstream: I guess it is. Prowl:... And I guess I... I feel like I have to be your father figure because your actual one failed you and I don't want to fail you too. We're partners since you're my KiSS player, but you're also underage. You do need protecting and care, Mikaela. And it's ok to need those things especially at your age. Maybe I do take the protecting thing a bit too far, but... I know how much you've been hurt in the past. I don't want anything else to hurt you. And I'm sorry if... I began to hurt you. Mikaela:... I'm still grounded, aren't I? Prowl: Definitely, BUT... I would like to take a look at your power point and information. I've been hearing a lot of thinks I don't like about the New Woman and if they are indeed not following environment regulations, that's a serious crime and they should be held accountable as well as take responsibility for all the damages. Mikaela: I'll get you everything right now! Slipstream: Hee hee hee. Prowl: What? Slipstream: Nothing.

[posallys]

PERCABETH MY BELOVED 💙💙💙💙

[mania-sama]

Trick or treat!!! 😁

hello, dear! welcome to my humble abode! dig into this bowl to get some candy… ah! you’ve got a fanfiction line explanation! a rare gem indeed.

this excerpt is from if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was:

He’s on the court before Sakusa is. He’s across the net before Argentina can celebrate their victory. He’s grabbing Oikawa’s shoulders tightly before anybody else can get to him. Iwaizumi stares into his estranged best friend’s glassy, confused, uncomprehending eyes. He’s shaking Tooru’s shoulders, desperate as he yells: “You are having a heart attack!” And Hajime is fifteen and three-quarters, learning emergency CPR for his new part-time job as a lifeguard. He thinks that it could come in useful. He thinks that saving people isn’t a job he would mind. And Hajime is sixteen, watching Tooru recover from his surgery, and he realizes he will never play professional volleyball. He wants to help people like Tooru forever — people who want to dedicate their whole life to a sport but have a body that strives to prevent their goal every step of the way. He can’t do that as a player on the court. And Hajime is seventeen, trying to convince Tooru to eat a sandwich even though he is adamantly insisting he isn’t hungry. He discovers sports medicine isn’t just about the physical ills and pains. To be a good athletic trainer, he has to see every aspect of a player’s well-being, and that includes their mental health. And Hajime is eighteen, standing alone in the airport and experiencing loss for the first time. In order for Oikawa to grow as an athlete, he has to cut away the weed strangling his roots. Hajime lets him without complaint. This is part of his new career, after all; if he helps athletes succeed, they would all, one day, leave his medical care. And Hajime is twenty-seven, losing his best friend for a second time at the end of the first set of chest compressions. At least three ribs have cracked under his pace and pressure. He pinches Tooru’s nose, pries his jaw open, and breathes air into his lungs twice. His ring and pinky finger automatically find his pulse point. Nothing. Seeing that no medical equipment has arrived, he starts the second set of chest compressions. Oikawa’s bones creak and give way under his desperation. He knows CPR like the back of his hand; if the ribs are breaking, that means it’s working. It doesn’t get rid of the panic and pain at the thought of how much damage he’s doing to Oikawa’s body. The paramedics are a second too late with their LUCAS device at the end of the last compression. He dives down for another round of mouth-to-mouth, recognizing, faintly yet viscerally at the same time, that Oikawa’s soft skin is pale and rapidly cooling. At the junction between his neck and jaw, Iwaizumi searches for a heartbeat. Breathe. Nothing. Breathe. Nothing.

this entire segment, as i intended, is meant to be read completely out of breath, gasping and choking on every single word. it’s meant to feel like the world is rushing and crumbling around you. it’s meant to be read at the speed of lightning, each word cackling and breaking. the periods in the paragraphs are merely suggestions; every paragraph starts with an and because the last sentence, the last paragraph never really ended.

it’s meant to be, in all intents and purposes, to be one continuous run-on sentence. unfortunately, that would be rather bad form for me as a writer. i don’t have the skill to pull it off just yet.

when you get to the “breathe. nothing. breathe. nothing.” it’s not supposed to be a gentle breathe. it’s supposed to be a gasp, panicked and hurting and desperate. it’s a cry, a sob of pain. medically, he’s doing a very measured recovery breath to force oikawa’s lungs into the action of breathing. mentally, it’s everything but measured. the “nothing” is crying. the actual sob with tears. nothing! he is screaming, knowing that his best friend is fucking dead, but he is saying nothing as he dives into another breath.

it should be read, more accurately, as: “gasp. please, please. don’t leave.”

and this all really stems from the line directly before this excerpt:

“Holy shit,” Iwaizumi whispers, all of the air leaving his lungs.

everything just rushed out of him. he has nothing left. and then, the buzzer sounds with this:

Sixteen to fourteen. Team Argentina wins Olympic gold.

that’s the last line of clarity before everything shatters. literally, the sound breaks with the buzzer as the entire world falls away and rushes at the same time.

this is probably my favorite part of the entire fic, one of my favorite things that i have ever written to date. i put a lot of care into this. everything i wrote came from the heart, and i hope how i intended it to be read translated well.

[goldfinchwrites]

more looning, I might be easier on the excerpts from here on out? but ANYWAY. Loon really just is a story about a girl finding out other girls exist only at the age of 19, what a travesty

Taglist: @dearunreliablenarrator @transthadymacdermot @words-after-midnight @tragedycoded @llesbianwrites

@sunmerry-writes (ask to +/-!)

[iamintoomanyfandomsistg]

18 th of August, the two year anniversary of The Battle of Manahattan.

"Percy replayed everything that had happened two summers ago: Beckendorf, Silena, Michael, Ethan, Luke. Tears streamed down Percy’s face as he remembered everything before the Titan War: Zoe, Bianca, Lee, Castor. Then his mind drifted away to what had happened a year ago—Tartarus. The pit itself. The monsters, the Arai, seeing Annabeth blind, seeing Annabeth so terrified of Percy. Terrified of her usually loving and dorky boyfriend. A loud sob escaped Percy. He thought he heard something outside his cabin, but he was too caught up in it all. He sat up and dug his head deeper into his hands. He pushed back his raven black hair as he sank deeper into his bed. What if he was just a monster? He’d terrified Annabeth, THE Annabeth chase, his Annabeth Chase. He had given his mother the tools to kill someone; heck, Percy offered to do it himself. Even if Gabe was a horrible person, he was still a human, a mortal. He had killed Michael Yew using his powers—the same powers that terrified Annabeth. Percy Jackson was no "savior" or "hero"; no, he was just a monster. That was all he was: a monster. "

"

He talked about how he never got to grieve or move on from anything that happened to him; it was all bottled up inside. His mother’s “fake” death? He was forced into being an outcast because his father was Poseidon. Bianca? No, he had to continue his quest after his promise was broken. Zoe? No, he had to be there to help Annabeth and confront Nico about Bianca’s death. He had to witness that bubbly ten-year-old turn into an angry, rage-filled kid in a matter of seconds. It shattered his heart, but he had to be there for people to rely on. Yet he himself had no one to lean on.

One of his best friends, who was much more mature than he was, Beckendorf, was killed right in front of him. He had died instead of Percy. Why? He never got to grieve; he was forced to lead a war. He was betrayed by his first friend at Camp Half-Blood, but then he had to forget all the good memories and focus on defeating him. In the end, he died as the same person Percy had met at Camp Half-Blood: a good person, a hero.

After the war, Percy tried to help the campers recover while also maintaining a relationship. Only this year, after the whole war with Gaea, did he finally have time to think about all these things, and it had been too much; it overwhelmed him." "Annabeth had heard of smelly Gabe, but Percy never said much about him. Now Annabeth understood why. Percy looked so pale as he explained how Gabe had always told him to never cry, how weak he was, and what a baby he was. Percy looked more terrified than she had ever seen him. The two-time savior of Olympus was so scared of a mortal man, and Annabeth wasn't sure why. She had a speculation, but she had always hoped it wasn't true. But it was true. Annabeth felt like vomiting when Percy told them about how much Gabe used to abuse him and his mom. Now Annabeth understood. Percy was only a little kid; to him, Gabe was worse than Gaia, worse than Kronos, worse than any human alive."

Movie Date

"Percy tried and failed to pat down his disheveled raven black hair. He wore ragged black jeans and a blue  AHS swim team hoodie.  In his hand was a small bouquet of flowers. He ruffled them nervously and then racked his knuckles against the apartment door. The door was opened by a beautiful girl with curly blonde hair and sharp and reflecting gray eyes. She wore a comfy pair of jeans with a cropped sea green top. She gave him a warm smile and took the flowers from him, while he just stared in awe at her beauty. He gave her a lopsided smile and ran his hands down the back of his neck. Annabeth raised her eyebrows clearly amused. “ Uh-hi? You uh ready?” Percy stuttered. “Since I was 15 Percy '' Annabeth smiled. Back before they were dating, when they were best friends, they had planned to go to the movies before going to summer camp. They- Percy, was really oblivious back then and had not realized that it was clearly a date. Now after 2 wars and 8 months off disappearance, he finally had time to catch up on that date. Percy stretched out his hand and she took it as they walked down to Percy’s stepfather's Prius."

When the Darkness Creeps In

" Percy knew he wasn’t in Tartarus. He knew that. The problem was getting his body to believe it.

It started small. The occasional nightmare. The way shadows stretched too long in the corners of his vision. The smell of blood when there wasn’t any. He thought he could handle it. But then the battle happened.

They were ambushed near Epirus. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t faced before—monsters, dracaenae, a rogue empousa—but when Percy’s sword clashed against a dracaena’s spear, something in his mind snapped.

The battlefield flickered. One second, he was on solid ground. The next, he was knee-deep in muck, the air thick with poison. The screams of his friends warped into the howls of things that shouldn’t exist. The sky above him turned red, suffocating. His body felt heavy, slow, like the weight of Tartarus itself was pulling him under again.

He heard Akhlys laughing.

No. No, he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.

A hand grabbed his wrist, and Percy reacted without thinking. His sword swung.

“Percy!”

The battlefield snapped back into focus. His sword was inches from Jason’s throat. Jason was staring at him, wide-eyed, barely holding Percy’s arm back with his own.

Percy’s stomach dropped.

“I—” His voice failed him. His grip loosened, and Jason wrenched his wrist free. Percy stumbled back, breath coming too fast, too shallow. The dracaenae were gone. The battle was over. But his hands were still shaking.

Jason didn’t move for a moment, studying him carefully, but then Annabeth was there, grabbing Percy’s shoulders.

“Percy,” she said. Her voice was firm but gentle. “It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. He had almost—he had nearly—

Percy stepped back. Her hands fell away.

“I need air,” he mumbled. He turned and walked off before anyone could stop him.

The deck of the Argo II was quiet. The wind was steady, the ocean below a dark stretch of nothingness. Percy gripped the railing, trying to steady his breathing. His hands were still shaking. He clenched them into fists.

It wasn’t enough.

He wanted to throw himself into the sea. He wanted to disappear into the waves, let the salt water pull the memories from his skin, drown out the echoes of Tartarus still whispering in his ears.

Soft footsteps approached behind him. Annabeth. He knew without looking.

“You don’t have to talk,” she said, standing beside him. “But you’re not running away from me.”

Percy closed his eyes. “I almost killed Jason.”

“You didn’t.”

“I could have.” His voice was rough, bitter. “I didn’t even know where I was, Annabeth. One second, I was fighting, and the next—” He exhaled sharply. “I was there again.”

Annabeth was quiet for a moment. Then she reached for his hand. He almost pulled away, but she didn’t let him.

“I get it,” she said softly. “I do. Sometimes, I wake up and I swear I can still feel the rocks beneath me, hear the river. Sometimes I forget we got out.”

Percy swallowed. “I feel like I’m losing myself.”

“You’re not.” Her grip tightened. “Tartarus took a lot from us, Percy. But it doesn’t get to take you.”

He turned to look at her. Her storm-grey eyes were steady, fierce.

“How do you do it?” His voice cracked. “How do you stop it from creeping in?”

Annabeth exhaled. “I don’t.”

Percy frowned.

“I don’t stop it,” she admitted. “I just— I remind myself that I’m here. That you’re here. That we made it.”

Percy looked down at their hands, at the way she was holding onto him like she’d never let go. He squeezed her fingers.

He wasn’t okay. Maybe he wouldn’t be for a long time. But Annabeth was here. She was real.

And for tonight, that was enough."

[transgenderer]

-Voodoo, Metraux

[neembu]

we are a tiny tiny infinity

[theoffingmag]

...the docent is uncomfortable talking about your letters. She says you and old girl used to sleep in the same bed because it was cold outside, that many Victorian ladies would have done the same, that it was normal. At least we can agree on that part. She keeps bringing up the fact that you didn’t have kids like it’s confusing, as though there is something mysterious about wanting peace, quiet, and endless hours for poetry and repotting plants.

— Rita Mookerjee, "Voicemail for Emily Dickinson"

[strangerays]

THIS JUNE

[wip introduction]

(originally known as the project Nothing in Particular and Everything)

start date: february 2021

stage: 4th draft

pov: first person, past tense

tags: #nip: inspo, #nothing in particular and everything, #this june, #this june inspo

Ask to be +/- from the tag list if that is something you would like!

Story

Ray's friends are finally back home from college. But in the seaside town where they grew up, everything has changed. Madison is always distracted by work and her controlling parents. She's dating Oliver. Oliver doesn't know what he wants to do with his life anymore, but he knows he can't stay in Point Blink. Lonan has made a new home for himself in the city with his boyfriend, so nobody is quite sure what he plans to do next.

June in Point Blink isn't turning out as perfect as Ray planned.

Judith just moved to Point Blink.

A somewhat disastrous pair, Ray and Judith fall victim to an act of arson on a mysterious landmark in the woods. Whilst the girls uncover the identity of the arsonist on a dusty old camera, they develop a strong bond with one another and a connection to their mental health neither of them had before. However, as Ray gets closer to saving herself, she digs up damaging truths about her closest friends that threaten to tear the five of them - and Point Blink - apart.

Characters

Ray – 20, a somewhat optimistic college student who misses her friends but will do anything to keep them together. spends most of her time in alone her bedroom or in the woods with a camera.

Judith – 19, the energetic new girl in town with an enigmatic background and a savior complex. used to live with her brother but decidedly does not anymore.

Lonan – 20, Ray’s best friend who loves his friends dearly but struggles to put himself and his art first. struggling to live with past decisions while navigating a new relationship.

Madison – 20, hates the idea of college and is very set in her ways, which can be detrimental to her friendships. works at a local coffeehouse.

Oliver – 19, the last person to join the friend group; the first person to leave. known for his boastful grades and sour humor.

[fieldsofview]

not me hyperfixating so much on post NWH MCU Peter Parker that I've spent my entire day off writing over 6k words towards a new fic (that looks like it will be a 50-100k beast if I finish it) Anyway, keep an eye out for my upcoming, not a fix-it-fic but still a finding-how-to-move-on-and-accept-love-again-fic about Peter Parker in the MCU. Featuring Alternative Peter Parker because 5 years can change someone a lot.

[milkspoilt]

everyday i think about taking my jewellery out.. i will become me again. i never got it to be me in the first place. i got it to remember her.. and now i think i will wear it longer than i've known her.. and i don't think i can live with that. so i will take my jewellery out and pretend i never wore it.

[new-royston-cursebreakers]

Find the Word

Thank you @gummybugg for the tag! Find their post here.

I'll be tagging (with no pressure) @lyra-brie, @karangarin, @jay-avian, @wrenofthewords, and from the strangers list, @chainsaw-raven, @lexiklecksi, and @skyfireflight-writes for the words eat, water, fun, pop, create, and thank.

My words are mean, close, lead, minute, lie, and object.

From The Curse of New Royston:

mean

“Do you think there’d be a way to convince them to let me stay?” Cricket asks, peering down at Monty. “Gosh, I dunno,” Monty murmurs. “I don’t think there is. I mean, maybe…you could just ask them to stay at the same high school you started at? Going to a new school can be scary. Especially if it looks like what it does in the movies, with all those bullies and mean teachers and stuff.” “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t look like that,” Cricket sighs. “But it’d still be…I mean…it would be scary. It is scary. But they went through so much worse, moving here before I was born, then having to leave…”

close

Though Cricket wants nothing more than to turn around, go home, and cry, he follows Auster as they move out into the hallway. Each student passes with a small breeze and their thrumming footsteps shake the ground—none as violent as the shoe crashing down right in front of him, but it still sets Cricket’s heart pounding. Auster holds an arm out to stop Cricket just as someone much bigger passes by, their leg swinging in front of the two. What with how visible Auster is—crimson hair against olive skin and bright blue denim—they should’ve easily been able to see him! Cricket takes a shaky breath, a tear slipping down his cheek. With no comment, Auster continues, Cricket close behind.

lead

Heart pounding, Gio shakes his head, stepping back and taking Fletcher’s arm to lead out of the room. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize him. I saw him once before, at the school, so I don’t know what he’s doing here!” “Do you think he broke in?” “I don’t know.” Gio takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t even know if he’s real.” “Do you think it’s a symptom from the oxygen deprivation?” “I don’t—I don’t—” A wave of dizziness washes over Gio, the world in front of him swaying. He clutches Fletcher’s arm tightly, stumbling toward his friend in an attempt to lean on him “Woah!” Fletcher mutters, turning to help support Gio’s weight. He gathers Gio in his arms to keep him standing.

minute

How is it even possible to tell what’s good? How is it even possible to be a good person? As the sermon wraps up, as they stand and line up to get their wafers, Gio finds himself glancing up at that cross that Cameron had been fixating on before. How massive it is—bigger than anyone here. Certainly much larger than the one Jesus was crucified on, if that story’s even true. Jesus was a traveler, right? Assuming the Mormons are right, and Jesus did visit America, and on the minute chance that he ever visited this one tiny little region of Connecticut, he would’ve been small, wouldn’t he? Much smaller than even the smallest of Port Forver, who can at least count homeownership toward their worth—Gio assumes. Jesus would’ve been so small, no one would’ve been able to hear his words. Heck, they might not have been able to even see him. If Jesus hadn’t owned anything, then Gio doesn’t even know what would’ve happened to him.

lie

Gio’s mother clasps her arm over Gio’s shoulder, nails digging in, and pulls him close. She pauses for a moment, glances down at his tie, and quickly seizes it to pull the knot tighter, collaring Gio again. “Why don’t you two invite Unity?” she asks, gesturing toward the Abbotts. “It’s been so long since the three of you had a playdate! I’m sure she’s dying to catch up with you!” Like lightning, Gio’s options flash through his mind. Inviting Unity is out of the question; if she actually said yes, well, that’d be his own personal Hell. And there’s always the chance she could say yes! But if he refused to invite her, his mother would probably interrogate him why over dinner, and may ultimately bar him from seeing Fletcher afterwards. And how would he answer the questions she would have? If he brought up their falling out again, he’d be setting a horrible example by not forgiving as God has forgiven humanity, and by not doing enough to prove himself a good friend to Unity. He’s a Violett—he has to be the best moral example of any teen in the Grove. But he couldn’t just lie to his mom—what other reason could be possibly give for— “Unity!” Fletcher calls. “You wanna hang out with us after dinner?!”

object

When they’ve almost reached the front doors, Fletcher grabs Gio by the arm. “Dude, watch out!” he shouts, pulling him, but it’s too late a warning. Something slams into Gio’s foot and he watches, horrified, as a small body no larger than his index finger vaults in front of him and skids a couple feet. Tapping the object on his foot—a bike, it seems—aside, Gio kneels down, the shadows of his friends melding together as they lean over him to see. It’s Cricket, wearing the same brown coat he had been wearing a couple days ago. The tiny figure sits up slowly, lifting one hand to steady his head. He looks up at Gio, blinking and shaking his head to find his bearings.

[virgil-upinthestars]

YOOOOOOOOO :DD

Writer friends, I discovered a fun website today. It’s called “I Write Like” and here’s the description: Check which famous writer you write like with this statistical analysis tool, which analyzes your word choice and writing style and compares them with those of the famous writers.  Let me know which autor you got! 

[modernwitnesses]

Revive Excerpt By Author Cleere Cherry Reaves

Today, we are so excited to feature Cleere Cherry Reaves newest book, Revive: Declarations of God’s Truth to Renew Your Spirit (book launches on October 29, 2024). This beautiful book talks about staying present and how to approach each day, so that day-by-day we see God’s direction and truth unfold for us. “Instead of trusting our heavenly Father’s authority over our day, sometimes it’s easier…