I just need "Cliff Steele forced to think about his gender" side story, am I wanting too much? 🥺

Because Naruto had to marry Hinata, Neji died as a cupid for them.

Because Naruto married Hinata, Kiba couldn't be with her and so he was remain single.

Because Naruto married Hinata, Sasuke couldn't be with him (well, publicly).

Because Sakura married Sasuke (the Uchiha crest if we're being honest), Sai had to marry Ino, and because of this Choji married Karui.

So you see now, how |\||-| is the cause of all narrative problems and plotholes.

The only ones that made sense was Shikamaru and Temari.

Probably the only unaffected by this whole Shakespearean disaster was Tenten.

“We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?”

― N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

find the word

tagged by @thewriteflame (thanks!) and my words were: early, froze, grave, and hull (it's almost like you knew I just finished a chapter with the title "Haunted Hull" lol)

I'll tag: @isherwoodj @pinespittinink @daisywords and @aether-wasteland-s, and your words will be: dawn, morning, afternoon, evening, twilight (or dusk), and midnight (no pressure ofc!)

early (this made me realize how many times i have nearly in my manuscript, but that's a problem for rewrite draft me lol)

The all too familiar pounding of Cilia’s fist on our door thudded heavily through the small room. I gave a feeble attempt to open my eyes, but the most I could manage was the thinnest squint. But Solera, of course, was already up. Puttering around. Probably folding her clothes or mine…or sketching. My squint narrowed further as I listened hard for a hint of what she was doing.  But it was a bit too quiet.  Had she slipped out again to see the sunrise?  I ripped my blanket off my head, looking over at her bed, expecting to find it empty, only… She looked over at me, her smile a bright, sweet assault. It was too early for anyone to be so cheerful, especially here. Even if it did suit her a bit too well.  Groaning, I flipped the blanket back over my head and rolled over, earning a laugh from her. Alright, well, I couldn’t not smile at that.

froze

A smile split the Droma’s beard, my mouth going dry as he reached for the hem of Ma’s veil. Kolette reached for my hand again, squeezing tightly as Ma’s identity was slowly revealed. The Droma’s eyes widened as the veil slipped through his fingers. Gasps filled the latridom, and the Diamo, who had been smiling, froze, his gaze darting around at the adverse reaction.  The Stoli, as ever, remained calm. The soot-grey lady stood, took a step toward Ma, but halted at a look from the Diamo.  The Droma stepped away from Ma, shaking his head. Even from here, his anger was palpable. I shrank back, sinking further into my seat, holding Ma’s mourning veil taut over my face.  “What happened?” the Diamo asked, his voice much more reserved than it had been before. The Droma stepped toward Ma, fists clenched. “Sosta.” The Droma stopped, glaring at Ma as she lifted her chin, but did not look away. “Remember your position.” He backed away again, his chest heaving.

grave

“Where is he?” Ma asked as she looked down, surveying the carved stones. The Droma turned at the sound of her voice. He glanced between us, offering a sad yet kind smile and holding his hands out to take ours. Or, rather, just mine in both of his. My hand twitched as I fought the urge to jerk it out of his grasp, but then he pulled me closer and linked our arms.  “Come, let me show you.”  I sent a pleading glance at Ma, but the veil made it worthless, as he led us to the furthest stone. Ma sank to the grass once we reached it, and I freed myself of the Droma’s grasp to join her on the ground, wrapping my arms around her as I stared at the stone.  Arteras Galanis 921 N.H. – 977 N.H.  My grip around Ma tightened as she started rocking slightly, her hand escaping the confines of her veil to caress the carving of Pa’s name with the tips of her fingers. I pursed my lips as my throat grew increasingly tight, staving off the tears for now. She escaped my hold, her hands reaching out to brace herself as she pressed her forehead against the ground, right up against his gravestone.  She was murmuring something. Something I couldn't catch. But then, the words weren’t for me.  I placed my hand on her back, rubbing as gently as I could as I surveyed the sea. Could he hear her now, wherever he was?  Hopefully, he could.

hull

I looked up, finding the stern sinking amidst the debris. The faded red [ship's name] painted onto the side of the hull was glaring back at me in the dimly lit waters.  I was trembling again.  Not with fear, but with an unbridled rage.   I changed my grip on the dagger, holding it like I had the shard of the plate that I slain [the captain] with and surged toward the surface. Sputtering, I took in great gasps of the frigid, salty air and whirled around, torrents of rain pelting my face.  It was coming down in sheets, mingling with the blooming pools of blood surrounding the cleft ship. The [ship's crew] were pouring out of the hull, into the waiting daggers and swords brandished by the mermaids.

deep breath.

the tea is, a set of brothers in one sect in m.dzs secretly foils another set of brothers in another sect, ad infinitum

I'm so ready for an announcement about Jesse's next project.

"Carpe Diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary."

- Dead Poets Society by N.H. Kleinbaum

i am a neil perry kinnie. i am cornered in an academical burrow and books and literature. i am constantly pressured to achieve what my parents want. but i want to carpe diem my way through life and yawp barbarically and make my dreams come true. i want to open my eyes to the great beyond and feel like a human. i want to make the best out of my life because i fear that i'd die without living a great one.

i think in the future i will tag my anti stuff as anti n.h or anti s.s just to avoid ppl who go thru those tags so just fyi for ppl who blacklist that

So avoid using the word ‘very’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boys - to woo women - and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.

N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society

Everytime batman or justice league get mentioned in doom patrol I am like haha jokes cliff is comic fan definitely then I remember they live in DC universe that was not a reference he is very serious about that

Flaming Car Salisbury Beach N.H. 1979

Nan Goldin

– N.H. Kleinbaum, Dead Poets Society (Screenplay by Tom Schulman)

I was happily writing a bit during my break (as one does when they’re a slave to the capitalistic machine but really just wish they could be creatively productive 24/7) but then got to a point where i’d need an in-world date for a gravestone and had to stop and think for a while before i could 1) think of when in time this is happening in-world, because i have already added hints of events in main series and want this to be as accurate as possible, and 2) come up with an equivalent for A.D/B.C to tack onto the end of the dates, and i just figured it out! On with my previously scheduled writing lol

@cuckoo-among-beasts asked : "Yao-ge!" H.uaisang shouts, running towards him as fast as his tiny legs can, almost stumbling on his robes. While M.ingjue is gone on Sect Leader business, M.eng Y.ao will look after the young boy. H.uaisang loves that, loves Yao-ge. Not as much as he loves his dage, but almost as much. "Up! Up!" he demands when he's by his feet, arms raised and hands making grabbing motions. He's a lazy and spoiled little boy, but who can blame anyone for indulging adorable little Nie H.uaisang? - RANDOM STARTERS (ACCEPTING!)

He LAUGHS, already bent over with arms open, accustomed to these particular antics - and now sets hands GENTLY upon the young master's sides, lifting him up into his arms. Breathes out a somewhat laborious exhale, and experimentally rocks the child in his arms. Pretends to consider CAREFULLY, humming - "...You're getting a bit too heavy to be carried, A-Sang."

Can FORESEE the way the little face will crumple and the big watery eyes will begin to wobble. Sets the child against his hip. " - Alright, alright. And what does our little A-Sang want to do today?"

A Dark Academia Favourite That Everyone Should Read

Dead Poets Society, written by N.H. Kleinbaum, based on the Tom Schulman film starring the beloved Robin Williams, is the epitome of academia in book form. I know its based on a film which would then bring up the debate of whether its place is in film or books, but I would say that it should be accepted as a multi-media entity of complete brilliance. Dead Poets Society is a short read at only…

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