Does Not Compute
tastefullyoffensive:

[lizclimo]
witchbat:

nerd

witchbat:

nerd

stoned-levi:

stoned-levi:

stoned-levi:

stoned-levi:

what if levi doesn’t spin on purpose what if he’s just a big fucking spazz who can’t hold shit properly 

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humanity’s swiftest trainwreck

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The man who will lead us to victory, ladies and gentlemen.

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The adventures of a completely able man in his early 30’s.

you guy can totally add to this if you want

Miki Nagata’s Japanese-style sweets — “mini aquarium jellies” and “koi carp jelly.” Too cute to eat~! ♡

scifi-fantasy-horror:

Eye of Raven by Artgerm

lovelynobody00:

tookieloocookies:

You know how Cecil is always concerned with his own existence?

He is constantly questioning it, and that is absolutely terrifying. You know why?

Because he doesn’t exist.

Cecil is a fictional character. And, he may or may not be somewhat aware of that fact.

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grubbsgrady:

this was the best fucking sass in the movie

yuuba:

FMA Daddys
Ed’s bby thinks his daddy is rly tall

yuuba:

FMA Daddys

Ed’s bby thinks his daddy is rly tall

Dialogue Should Move the Story Forward, Provide Information, or Enhance Characterization, Unless You’re Really Witty

The best dialogue can do all three. This is a rule that’s often broken by great writers, but before you can get away with breaking it, you have to understand why it exists. Recently, I reread one of my first stories. I thought it would be fun to reread, but I was disappointed in much of the dialogue. In the middle of a scene, my heroine Mildred and the housekeeper broke into an exchange about what my heroine wanted for dinner. I think they were the only two people in the world who cared about it. Readers never even got to see them eat this dinner, and the exchange had no point. It didn’t advance the plot, and it told us nothing about Mildred except that she hated sour beef and dumplings.

But let’s say you’re writing a romantic mystery where several people are poisoned by arsenic in the sour beef and dumplings. Suddenly that exchange becomes crucial because the reader knows Mildred was spared because she didn’t like the dish — does this mean the killer poisoned that dish because he didn’t want her to die? Or let’s say the point of the scene is that Mildred’s late father is a famous chef whose specialty was sour beef and dumplings, and Mildred confesses that no longer eats this dish because it brings back too many memories. Now the scene tells us something about Mildred’s personality, not just about her food intake. It wouldn’t take much work to use this exchange to move the plot forward while telling us something about Mildred and sharing the information about the food she likes.

Are you a witty author? Are you sure? If so, then you can get away with writing dialogue that doesn’t advance the plot, doesn’t tell us anything about the character, and doesn’t provide information to the reader. But even if you can get away with it, why should you do this? Even the most sparkling dialogue won’t help your story if it’s completely empty of anything but wit.

Anne Marble, Writing Romantic Dialogue (via cleverhelp)