An Angel (:

One of the best writing advice I have gotten in all the months I have been writing is "if you can't go anywhere from a sentence, the problem isn't in you, it's in the last sentence." and I'm mad because it works so well and barely anyone talks about it. If you're stuck at a line, go back. Backspace those last two lines and write it from another angle or take it to some other route. You're stuck because you thought up to that exact sentence and nothing after that. Well, delete that sentence, make your brain think because the dead end is gone. It has worked wonders for me for so long it's unreal

shoutout to writers who:

have chronic fatigue or brain fog

have memory issues

experience chronic pain

have focus issues

experience frequent malaise

have anything else that may make it difficult to type, come up with ideas, and/or stay motivated & working

you can do this, you belong here, and you deserve to treat yourself with kindness and care

My cat has to wear a cone this week and it made me think of an angel whose halo is a cone.

Hey. I have a message for aspiring authors (or already published ones) out there. It’s a little story I wanted to share~

When I was a kid, I spent at least half of my free time in the local library. I was that one kid who basically refused to go anywhere near the “popular” book racks, unless I was given a good recommendation for something. So you know what I did instead?

I went to the furthest back shelves, the depths of the young adult section, chose whatever I thought had a cool cover or an interesting synopsis, and sat down and read it. Many of those books were by lesser known authors, maybe they’d been out for a few years, but most hadn’t ever had time to shine.

If the story was terrible, I stopped after the first few pages and put it back to pick out another. And I was picky. But I found so many gems. I found so many books that I fell in love with, that I still remember. I was inspired by so much of that wonderful writing.

So. If you’re planning on publishing your work, either by traditional or other means, but you’re feeling discouraged because you don’t think it will ever get that much attention?

Put it out there, anyways. Put it out there for kids like me. Put it out there for adults like me. Put it out there because there will always be someone who reads your book and loves it, who adds it to their favourites list, and who goes on a search for all of your other writing.

If you love your story, put it out there for those who are bound to love it, too.

Know what I’m salty about?

In all my art classes, I was never taught HOW to use the various tools of art.

Like yes, form, and shape and space and color theory and figure drawing is important, but so is KNOWING what different tools do.

I’m 29 and I JUST learned this past month that India Ink is fucking waterproof when it dries. Why is this important? Because I can line something in India Ink and then go over it with watercolors. And that has CHANGED the ENTIRE way I art and the ease I can create with.

tldr: Art Teachers: teach your students what different tools do. PLEASE.

Angels and pomegranates

Behold, birds who have lost the ability to can!

Just kidding, guys.  These birds are just trolling the hell out of ants.  I really, really wanted to show you this clip of a Galapagos finch or something harassing the shit out of formica ants and then being all “Yes, yes, bathe me in your fury!  Your chemical defenses are now my own!  Mwahahahaha!”, but the closest thing I could find is this video of David Attenborough pissing off some wood ants.  It was basically like that, only instead of an Englishman with a stick, it was a bird stomping around with its wings spread just being an absolute asshole about everything.

This behavior is actually called anting, and there are two types of anting that birds can engage in.  One is just anting, where birds will rub ants all over themselves to get that precious, precious formic acid all up in their feathers.  They’ll also do it with mothballs, cigarette butts, and certain sorts of beetles and millipedes.  The other one is passive anting, where a particularly lazy bird will find an anthill and just flop down on it with all their feathers spread and puffed and annoy the ants until they hop to and try to make them leave, at which point the bird rubs its wings together and goes “Yeeeeeess.”

They do this to get rid of external parasites, because external parasites are annoying.  Ant-eating birds who do this are getting a two-for deal out of it, because they get the ants to empty their acid sacs in a beneficial location (the bird’s feathers) and then get to eat them without having to deal with the acid in their crops, so it’s basically like if your bug-spray or deoderant came in a bacon bottle.

Formica ants get the brunt of this, because they’re super-common and quite frequently spray the acid instead of trying to inject it, so the bird can get itself doused and then preen it into its feathers.  Considering the spraying of acid is like the ant way of saying “Oh my god go away you dickhead I hate you we all hate you why are you still here jesus christ what is wrong with you,” we can be reasonably sure that they’re not super-thrilled by this bird behavior.  Since the birds keep doing it, we can be reasonably sure that they don’t care about the ants’ feelings.

With JoAnne Fabrics going out of business I feel it is my duty as a cosplayer, historical costumer, and general sewing gremlin to help teach y'all how not to be reliant on evil overpriced mediocre big box stores for fabric and cosplay supply, cause if I catch y'all going into Homophobia Lobby to get cosplay fabrics imma have to start throwing hands. And frankly you guys all deserve better.

- Find a neighborhood full of brown people. Probably a slightly poorer neighborhod. I know, I know, but they will have small independent fabric stores. Selection in each may vary. Hispanic and Caribbean areas will give you prints that EAT. Muslim areas will give you fabrics with amazing drapery. Indian and Southeast Asian areas will give you beading that would make the House of Worth wet with envy. (Try to avoid oldwhitelady quilting stores unless you are a knitter or are specifically trying to cosplay Kirsten Larson.) (Also ask while you're there for lunch/dinner spot recommendations. Your fabric store guy usually has a buddy with a joint nextdoor with the best *insert relevant ethnic food here* you'll ever put in your mouth.)

- DEVELOP A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE OWNER OF SAID STORE. This I cannot stress enough. Abdul, my fabric guy, can and will get me whatever I want cause he knows me, knows I bring in other young people, and knows I will be back every month for more. Indie fabric stores tend to have older clients. They are anxious to see faces under 60. Just chat with whoever is in there about the kind of stuff you want and need and they will help you. This also frequently leads to discounts. I have not paid listed price for fabric in years and just walked out of Abdul's with 7~ yards of gorgeous teal satin for 10 bucks. Not a yard. Total.

- Do not be afraid of mess. The best shit comes from stores that look like a hurricane went through them. Don't try to understand the organization. (One day, 4 years into your relationship with the store, suddenly the fabric gods will reveal the knowledge to you.) Again, talk to whoever is in there about your project. They'll help.

- Give up on one stop shopping. Get your crafting supplies elsewhere. Like a small independent hardware store. There's usually an old guy in there that reminds you of an uncle who will also help you.

-Worbla and whatever other Cosplay Specific Material you're using is a fatphobic material straight from Satan's hot taint, you do not need it, and any old hardware/tractor supply dad will help you find better, more durable armor/weapon/detailing material. Don't snub your nose at paper mache and plaster of paris. Venetian Mask makers have been using it for years. Balsa wood is also your friend. Hardware store Uncles will teach you to work with both.

- Elderly people are your bffs. If you see an old person TALK TO THEM. They know how to do all kinds of shit. I know there's a hesitation around old people because of the political climate and a fear that they may be homo/trans/whatever-phobic, but hey....minds are changed by making friends. My elderly Muslim fabric supplier is an Our Flag Means Death fan because of me gushing about the teal I needed for Stede Bonnet. He wishes me happy pride now. He put bolt of rainbow in the window in June and kept it up all summer. And he'd never had a thought about queers before me.

- Don't feel limited to Craft and Fabric stores. Hardware stores are cool. They stock outdoor fabrics and umbrella and furniture covers that are very durable....my first cosplay was made out of patio furniture covers. Also upholstery stores and upholsterers have velvets and damasks and faux leather and real leather and all sorts of rich textures. Most of them will part with a few yards pretty cheap. Second hand sheets and bedspreads and curtains also make some really cool garments. A significant amount of my ren fair garb started as household goods.

- If you are forced to order fabric online, please for the love of all that is holy DO NOT BUY FROM MOOD or any other famous store. You're paying for their branding and their place on certain reality shows I will not mention. Indie is always cheaper for the quality and usually not abusing their workers.

- If the fabric/hobby/hardware/upholstery/etc store you develop a relationship with is inconveniently far from you, see if said owner is willing to take your order via phone and send it to you. You'd be surprised how accommodating people in the crafting and sewing world can be.

It all really comes down to having to form a community. I know finding multiple small stores is a lot less convenient than Joannes. But forming a relationship with a local supplier will, in the long run, yield you much better results AND put money and good back into a community near you.

(And if you're in the NYC area DM me and I'll put you in contact with Abdul. He's the absolute best and I'd do anything to help him and his business grow!!!)

kinda basic but a dragon shifter woman w scales and a tail and dragon eyes x vampire woman who fall in love, and nsfw if thats okay? the vampire is also queen of the vampire clan and the dragon is a cult escapee

also!! i forgot to add but the dragoness’s name is celant and the vampire queen’s name isviolet! thank you!! 

Hope you actually remember sending this ask in!! Sorry it’s taken me so long to do. This was for the 10 free thank you stories in honour of the blog hitting 1000 followers. I’ve got two more left now, and you can find others here. Those requests are now closed.

Vampire Queen x Female Dragon Shifter (nsfw)

Violet laystretched out under an endless canopy of stars above. Her eyes, the irises sosubtly different from humans’, picked out colours of the spectrum no one elsehad access to, and she savoured – craved– these rare nights alone on the plain.

As far as even hereyes could see, the grasses blew, wafting and shifting, hissing, whispering thesecrets of the land and bringing with them the scents of the night. A haremoved quietly with barely a rustle; a fox stalked it. An owl glided on silentwings, seeking mice, and far enough away to maintain his respectful distance,her most faithful servant and bodyguard stood watch over her.

She had learned tobe alone with Endon in a way that she could with no one else.

Everyone assumedthat she would one day wed Endon, but she had no interest in men. Theirrelationship was closer to brother and sister, though he was ever deferentialto his queen.

As she lay on herback, Endon’s horse stamped a hoof and snorted, and the warder patted themare’s black neck. “Easy, Orchid,” he murmured, his voice deep and quiet as thenight itself.

Violet knew shewould have to return to the castle, to her duties, to her empire of the night,but just a few moments longer was all she could hope for.

Endon’s headsnapped around, his attention fixed on something to the east, and his sword wasout of its scabbard in a heartbeat, and Violet sat up, fingers pressing intothe grass.

Keep reading