Specifically: cats, cooking, and cleaning.

Riiiight, so. Not only did my original answers get erased, but Tumblr also removed the questions from my inbox because it assumed I’d successfully posted my answers. Great! So the questions are going to be paraphrased, and I can’t remember for the life of me who asked which ones. I know two were anonymous, but the others definitely weren’t. Sorry in advance for leaving off names and/or details in the questions!!

One of these days I’d like to know why my typos are such a mess. I’ve noticed they’re less likely to be spelling errors and more likely to be the wrong word entirely… like writing “mean” for “me” and “name” for “brain”, things like this.

Most of the time they’re things my brain reads as half-rhymes, so I kind of figured it was just misfiring like a jerk, but once in a while I’ll be looking over a story and find a spot where, instead of saying “They took the elevator down”

it says

helicopter

like… what?

eyyy, managed to successfully dismember an unwanted guest so I’m feeling quite proud of myself. Giving up on Elysium while I’m ahead and looking at Asks a little earlier than usual tonight. Took a peek at what’s waiting for us, though, and we’re not gonna get through these without a bit of alcohol. Be right back.

Er, before someone calls the cops on me, the aforementioned murder was in a book. I didn’t think I was gonna be able to work that scene in, but found a way to keep it, so I’m excited.

maggie-the-red-vane-trevelyan:

thecouchwitch:

undanewneon:

astriferousaesthetic:

astriferousaesthetic:

go find what a fic of ur life would be tagged as on ao3

i   h a v e   m a d e   a   m i s t a k e

Angsty Danger Love Story

Strictly Platonic Culinary Angst

Drug fueled office fingering.

Now with more velociraptor lapsex

(via andrewmnyard)

goddess3:

vaspider:

When I was ten years old, a dog bit the back of my head. The doctor said, within earshot but out of sight – he didn’t think I could hear him – that had the dog’s teeth been a little longer, they could have gone in under my skull. Hit my brain stem. Killed me, crippled me.

I don’t know whether or not he was right. All I know is that for a decade and a half after that, I harbored a complete and unreasoning terror of dogs. It didn’t matter how big they were, or how tame, or how kind. Someone else could assure me that they were the best dog in the world, that they knew the dog, that he would never hurt anyone, and it didn’t matter, because I was convinced that any dog could suddenly turn on me, bite me hard enough to kill me.

There were two dogs I slowly learned to trust during that time period. And, eventually, I learned to understand dogs again, to understand their body language, to like them again, because my husband convinced me to get a puppy, to raise a dog from when it was small, that this would help me get over my fear.

No one ever told me I was crazy or irrational for not wanting to be around dogs after I’d been attacked and nearly killed by one.  No one. For fifteen years, it was understandable that I would be afraid – terribly, unreasoningly afraid – of dogs. A dog attacked me. I bore the traumatic scars. I found dogs terrifying, unpredictable. I could not trust any of them – no matter how kind they’d been to my friends, no matter how well-recommended they came or how well they’d been raised – not to turn on me and injure me.

When I was fifteen, I was raped.

Do I even need to finish this?

THIS IS WHAT I SAY ALL THE FUCKING TIME AND NO ONE UNDEFSTANDS.

(via laurendestefano-deactivated2017)

I definitely recommend just skipping this post unless you are really, really bored, because I literally sat down and wrote out a 2300-word post about a character you will never otherwise meet aka Robin Cross mentioned here. I blame coldsaturn for asking but who is Robin. Knowing her or not knowing her changes nothing about the AftG books–she’s a character who won’t show up for several more years–but I took the chance to ramble and I ran with it.