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slayingfiction · 1 year

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Weak Words To Cut

Here are some weak words than you can often remove to strengthen your writing. I have made these changes as I edit my own novel, so I included examples from my writing to show you the difference.

When editing and cutting words, we are not talking about dialogue because everyone has a unique way of speaking, and it’s important to keep true to their voice.

Note: these are all general guidelines, and you don’t have to use all or any of them. Creative writing gives you a creative licence to choose how you write. Do what works best for you. Always.

Suddenly: technically speaking, everything happens suddenly, so use the word sparingly or it will lose its effect.

I don’t remember ever seeing a man in such little clothes before, and I suddenly despised the one piece left. I don’t remember ever seeing a man in such little clothes before, and I found myself despising the remaining piece.

Keep: When it disrupts your character’s life, and you want your reader to really take notice.

Cut: if removed and there is no change, then it’s not necessary

Then/Next: this is typically a filler word. All events happen in a sequential state, so it’s not always needed.

Then She was gone, her steps echoing through the halls.

Keep: You want to keep the word typically when something is changing in action, description, etc.

Cut: If removing the word does not change the meaning, then cut it. Typically if this word starts the sentence, it’s unnecessary.

Just: this is a filler word, and can almost always be removed.

I was just a game to him, nothing more.

Keep: if removing it makes your sentence confusing or changes the meaning, then keep it. Usually using the word words well as a limiter word. (Eg. it’s just me and my dogs tonight)

Cut: when it’s unnecessary and changes nothing.

Really/Very: these are weak qualifying/descriptive words, and you can absolutely find a better synonym

Your mother is really nice lovely.

Keep: typically these words are fine to keep when not used to enhance an adjective. (Eg. very next day, really think, very back of…)

Cut: if it’s being used to enhance a weak adjective, cut it and find a better word.

Is/Was: this is usually a passive voice, which isn’t usually the best for fiction novels, active voice is always preferred. Naturally this is a verb that you can’t cut from all places, so here are some tips.

Everyone was too busy focusing on their shopping to notice a human sliding between sales booths. Buyers and sellers occupied themselves with their shopping, too focused to notice a human sliding between sales booths.

Keep: when delivering information quickly its always best to just state the facts, so don’t worry about trying to find flowery words to describe everything.

Cut: If you can show what the person or object is doing instead of simply saying it, then change the sentence.

Started: every action has a start, so don’t write it unless you can tell me why it’s important now to know that’s it’s started.

The boy started to rant in his native tongue. The boy ranted in his native tongue.

Keep: if your scene is being interrupted or is still unfinished, then go ahead. This one is a little harder to see sometimes, so just see how you feel with it in vs removed.

Cut: it’s it’s unnecessary information, and nothing changes to the story or sentence when removed, axe it.

Seemed: again, this is more of a show don’t tell kind of thing

Time seemed to slow slowed as I held Vera tight against me.

Keep: if a character knows something intuitively

Cut: if you can show why the character is perceiving what’s happening

Definitely: this is typically just confirming facts that are already known to be true. Repetition is unnecessary without a purpose.

He definitely saw me, but I wasn’t mad about it. (This instance can for sure be removed, it’s unnecessary. However, I want this emphasis here, so I chose to keep it)

Keep: if it’s your character who is confirming facts as 100% accurate and ridding previous doubt

Cut: remove and nothing changes

Somewhat/Slightly: usually this is used when only trying to use a partial effect of a word, so the easiest fix is to change the word that it’s describing.

I looked away, slightly embarrassed.

Keep: if the words is truly the best way to describe what was happening in the sentence.

Cut: when you can use a better word to describe your action/emotion/whatever to be more accurate or it’s unnecessary.

Possibly/Likely/Probably/May/Might: much like some of the other weak words, these are just filler. Something either is or isn’t, and it’s best to describe here you can.

Probably Not with the way he was speaking to her.

Keep: if your character isn’t sure of something

Cut: if you can describe what’s happening, or it can be removed without changing the meaning

Somehow: this is usually an indicator of missing information

I thought I was an average girl in every way, and now I was somehow the first human to ever survive. (I don’t use somehow often. I am keeping it in this instance because none of the characters know how it happened yet.)

Keep: if your character is missing the information and doesn’t know how something became true or transpired

Cut: if you can explain how something came to be.

Adverbs: this is a great category of words to use in writing, but if used too often, it can distract from the story. A good rule is finding an even balance between adverbs and active verbs.

I squeezed her cold hand tightly in mine and made a promise to save her. Clenching her cold hand between mine, I promised to save her.

Keep: if it improves your writing by making it more clear and efficient.

Cut: if it makes more sense to use active verbs to describe what’s going on.

Totally/Completely/Absolutely: all filler words

He grinned at me, his plate almost completely full while mine was near empty. He grinned at me, his plate still full while mine sat devoid of even a crumb.

Keep: if it’s important to the story to know with 100% certainty, and this word gives the most accurate description

Cut: whenever it’s not needed

Thing/It: missing information/ lack of description

I was just accepting all the things they said as truth. I was just accepting all their fantastic explanations as truth.

Keep: if your character doesn’t know what it is

Cut: whenever you can find an actually description or name the object

Have any more words you think should be added to the list? If something does not make sense or you have questions, let me know down below.

If you’ve found this helpful: comment, like, reblog & follow for more :)

Happy Writing!

#creative writing #fiction #wip #writing community #writing #writer #writers of tumblr #writing process #book edit #editing #writing advice #writing resources #writing reference #long post #writblr #writing tips

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snippychicke · 7 months

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Kinktober Week Two-- Garp

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: these poor communication snails. Otherwise just a lot of dirty talk. Nsfw, 18+, just look at the title.

You sat at the library of the marine headquarters, mindlessly reading quite possibly the only piece of fiction in the entire place. The library was calm, quiet, with just a few soldiers as well as cadets milling about, looking through old journals and log books. Pieces of history to help them plan the future.

The quiet was interrupted by a chirping sound. Not the transponder snail on your desk, but the ear-slug in your purse.

Garp.

Your breath caught, he rarely ever reached out on the private line, usually happy using the official lines even if it was just to whine and tell you how bored he was, or how much he missed you. Often to everyone else's annoyance.

You quickly fished the small conch out of your bag as you stood and retreated into your office, sure whatever he was calling for was private. "Garp?"

"Heh. Wasn't sure you'd answer," Came your husband's reply. "You do still keep the little bugger with you."

"Of course I do!" You said, though relief wasn’t instantaneous. You knew Garp, he'd chit chat before admitting he had a massive hole where his stomach was. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just missing you." There was a huskiness to his voice, making you frown. It wasn't pain. But… "Are you able to slip away and talk in private for a little bit?"

Something about the way he said it made you blush, as if he was right there whispering into your ear. "I'm in my office with the door closed."

"Perfect. Have you got a new desk yet?"

You blushed as you looked at your desk, covered with papers and books, it wasn't nearly as grand or large as the last one. Or the one before that. Or the one before that.

All broken by your husband during his… visits.

"I do. It's not very well made, I guess they got annoyed about how many we've broken."

His laughter echoed in your ear. "I can't wait to get back and break that one too. I'll push all those boring dusty reports to the side, throw you up there and start railing you. Whole place is going to hear me fuck my wife."

If your face was't red before it was now as you slumped in your chair. Throat became dry as you listened to his slightly-heavy breathing. "So that's why you called me."

His chuckles echoed down your spine, goosebumps pricking your skin. "I've been out to sea too long. Can you blame me for wanting to hear my wife's voice as I jacked myself off."

You could just imagine him in his quarters, sitting at his desk, legs splayed wide open, cock hard as the mast as he teased himself. After all, how many times had you seen it when you worked as his secretary? First on accident, then on purpose.

"Are you already touching yourself?" You purred, switching mental gears, and heard him groan in response.

"Barely. I wanted to see if I could get you at least breathing heavy first."

You relaxed back in your chair, teasing your nipple through your outfit. "What got you all hard and bothered, sailor?"

"All this goddamn paperwork made me remember the days you used to sit beneath my desk and reward me for doing my reports," He answered. "Talk about initiave when you have a pretty woman giving you head, knowing you get to fuck her wet pussy once you're finished."

Your breath hitched between his words and memories. Hearing him growl in frustration as he tore through his work as you lazily sucked him off. "It was the only way to get you to work," You teased, making him growl.

"You fucking loved it. You start loosening the buttons on your blouse, showing your cleavage as you delivered reports. Bright red lipstick. You were begging me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

"I was," You admitted with a sigh, now fully groping yourself. Eyes closed as you focused on his voice and memory. "But could you blame me? I was serving under the vice admiral. Those huge muscles, that smile. I swear your eyes smouldered when you’d eye-fuck me. And then that is cock of yours. So big and girthy. I felt like a cat in heat wanting to be fucked by it."

"I shouldn't have wasted time. I should have just bent you over my desk that first day and claimed you right then and there, instead of hoping you didn't notice me jacking off under my desk while watching you work."

Your pussy clenched at the thought, and your hand pulled up your skirt and brushed the fabric of your underwear. "That would have been some first impression. But I admit, it felt rather nice realizing I had the legendary Monkey D. Garp lusting over little ol' me."

"Turned you into a little brat," He moaned. You had no doubt he was touching himself now from the way he was breathing. Stroking his hard cock, head leaned back with eyes closed. It was such a beautiful image. "It was like you were testing your limits. Seeing how far you could push until I snapped."

"No. I wanted you to snap. I knew you wanted me. I knew the mess you were making beneath your desk--you're hardly quiet with those growls of yours. I wanted to hear those growls in my ear as you fucked me. Those hands gripping my hair."

That growl was cutting every breath now. "Fuck darling. Please tell me I got you a little wet."

"A little?" You moaned as you pushed your underwear aside and teased yourself. "Sir, I am dripping."

"That's my girl," He snarled. "Always so wet and willing. How long would it take for you to come for me?"

"I thought you just wanted my voice," You teased.

"Plans change. I wanna hear you come. I wanna hear you whine and moan as you fuck yourself. I want to hear you begging me to come there and fill your pussy up."

You whimpered as you started to finger fuck yourself, rolling your hips in time with your thrusts. "Please, promise me you will. As soon as you're back to headquarters."

"Oh yes," He panted. "As soon as this ship's close to shore I'm jumping overboard and running straight for you. Fuck everyone else, I'm going to find you first. I'm gonna carry you into that little office and eat that pussy until you're a sobbing mess, and then we're gonna break that damn desk as I fuck you. The whole base will know I'm back just to satisfy my wife."

#garp one piece #vice admiral garp #monkey d garp #garp x reader #monkey d garp x reader #opla garp

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mrs-snape5984 · 25 days

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“As long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face…”

“Save your tears, it'll be okay. All I know is you're here with me…” (“Here with me” by D4vd)

Suffering from ME/CFS makes me feel like my whole world is falling apart in front of my eyes. Since I’ve already lost so much joy and so many abilities due to this devastating disease, my continuing loss seems to increase even further.

As some of you might know, do I love to write my own stories about Severus and Julia just as much as I enjoy using my tumblr blog as some kind of journal, whenever I’ve commissioned another artwork. It’s my way of rolling out a red carpet for the artists of Snapedom…it’s my way of honouring them for their talent in their profession. Commissioning those amazing people and letting them make my ideas and fantasies come to life, is my very own manner of coping with my physical and emotional pain.

And now, this coping mechanism seems to crumble into pieces as well as everything else, that I’ve already lost! It hurts me to admit, that my brain fog takes advantage of my capability to create vivid images with my words. My thoughts are getting blurry and chaotic. I’m struggling to find the right words to express my emotions (it’s even worse in my native language German than in English!!)…and this scares me to hell!

My mind was the only place, where I could find some shelter from my infuriating and terrifying reality of losing myself to ME/CFS. What if I forfeit my only - just barely existing- talent now?? How should I flee this nightmare of existence if writing wouldn’t be an option anymore?! How should I express my gratitude towards all those marvellous artists of Snapedom, who are all weaving my emotional comfort blanket with each piece of their art?!?

I don’t want to give up on my writing…and I won’t…even though my pride would probably fade away with each badly written chapter of my fictions…and with each unworthy post on my blog. I must admit, that I’m already acknowledging the loss of quality. 🥺

I found an inspiring poem about the importance of staying resilient, no matter how difficult the hardships of life might become, and I want to share it with you:

"KEEP GOING" (Better known as "DON'T QUIT") by Edgar A. Guest

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and debts are high, And you want to smile but have to sigh.

When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest, if you must, but DON'T YOU QUIT!

Life is queer with its twists and turns, As everyone of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won if he'd stuck it out, Don't give up though the pace seems slow, You might succeed with another blow.

Often the struggler has given up, When he might captured the victor's cup.

And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, How close he was to the golden crown,

Success is failure turned inside out, The silver tint on clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems afar,

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

My dear @mmad-lover, I can’t stress enough how grateful I am for your dedication to this stunning piece of art and believe me, it was worth every single second of waiting! Paula, I was incredibly touched to hear, that my request seemed to be something special, something personal to you. I can assure you, that, indeed, all of my ideas have a profound meaning to me and I’m glad that you’re such an empathetic person, who sensed that particular importance of your art to me. Your devotion to this drawing is palpable in every single detail, every line of your brushes. You created exactly the mood, that I wished for Severus and Julia. It doesn’t matter that the world is burning to the ground around them, they will always have each other’s backs! Just like I’m relying on Severus for more than 21 years now. Thank you for everything, you precious soul! I’m glad that I met you and I hope, we’ll stay in touch. 🥹

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

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toointojoelmiller · 3 months

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Update: I continue to work on all things! Nothing is abandoned! New chapters will come!

The actual, fun and exciting update: I'm going to start recommending a few AMAZING TLOU fics that you might have missed on my blog every Saturday for the next while.

I hope you find some new great reads to keep you going while we wait for season 2 - our fandom is seriously so freaking talented, and there are SO many incredibly written fics out there that I want to yell about a bunch of them! Please reblog!

These fics will vary re: how closely they stick to canon and what themes they explore, but you can expect them all to be wonderfully written and, obviously, heavily feature Joel Miller.

Some of these, including this weeks, may include mature content - make sure to read and heed the trigger warnings listed on ao3!

I have never really been interested in fan fiction with OCs, so I missed out on this week's recommendation for a long time and I bet a lot of you did too. It's both a wonderfully told Joel love story and a fic that, in my opinion, really honours the world and characters of TLOU.

Go Your Own Way by @chronicallyonlinewriter 232,575 words || 31 chapters rating: mature [see ao3 tags for full content warnings] featuring: post season/game 1 life in Jackson, angst, fluff, action, romance, smut, plenty of protective Joel and parent Joel

You can check out a review from @march-flowerr below, describing some of what makes this story so special: (vague general spoilers re: themes and mature content)

“Go Your Own Way stands, in my mind, as one of the most well written piece of fiction on Archive of Our Own. Nandorluna has such an intimate and authentic take on the existing characters that we know and love (on Joel and Ellie and all the Jackson gang) but it’s her ability to create stunning, well fleshed out original characters that drew me to her story initially. Her main character, Benny, moves across the story in such a visceral and realistic way; her arc spans not just the present canon timeline, but transports us through an entire lifetime: from childhood to outbreak, to first love, to first loss, to heartbreak and grief and then finally, to her heart’s final resting place: Joel Miller.

Zee manages to write about and embrace such difficult topics as assault, pregnancy loss, and grief without ever once making a show of it. She handles each moment with quiet dignity and intense self reflection; she draws beauty from the hollow depth of heart ache and despair without ever once losing the thread of hope that The Last of Us is known for.

At the heart of Go Your Own Way is the love story of Joel and Benny. Zee manages to create a compelling story about brokenness and connection and the raw, rare glory that is finding someone with whom you can begin to fit yourself together with again. It’s a story of family - of people who when left to wander, find their hearts drawn to each other. It’s a story about love - each relationship, from Benny and Alexei’s long friendship, to Ellie and Joel’s turbulent first years, to Benny and Joel’s steadfast devotion for each other, caters to the soul. It’s a story that I’ve found myself returning to, again and again, in all moods and places in life. If I could change anything about it, it would only be that it did have to end after all."

If you read and love this, please please show the author some love and leave a kudos and comment!! Happy fandoming y'all.

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thegridgoddess · 11 months

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Prove It | Charles Leclerc Pt. 6

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x fem! wolff! driver oc

Summary: Charles has a new teammate, but just because she's pretty doesn't mean he's gonna make things easy for her.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, angsty Charles, slow burn till it hits you in the face. Piningggg. George Russell best friend and ultimate mom energy, Lando Norris sibling energy, Pierre Gasly is the worst in this ngl, and Toto Wolff kinda sucks here (not a good dad!). Also did I mention the angst?

A/N: I'm the worst, I know. I've been distracted reading fanfics myself at the moment lol, so I hope you all can forgive me. The next part will be coming very soon, promise! Also, as I've updated in the warnings, Pierre is the worst in this! I love him to pieces irl, I swear, but my hand slipped while I was writing and this is where we are now so I hope we can all accept this is purely fictional. This picks up right where the last one left off by the way, so I suggest getting a refresher.

Word Count: 1.3k

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“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” George burst out of Lando’s closet. He ran his hands through his hair.

“Ewww!” Lando exclaimed, prompting Georget to quickly cover his mouth.

“Keep it down! We don’t need Riley to know we were spying on her,” George chastised. He wasn’t anticipating such a climatic resolution from his plan, but here they were. All he wanted was to know what was up with Riley. Why she had been avoiding him and keeping things from him? It wasn’t like her. Not with him. They were supposed to be best friends.

They could hear the events that took place down the hall just fine through the thin hotel walls. It also helped that Lando’s room was at the end of the hall, so he had the perfect view of the encounter from his peephole.

“What are we gonna do now?” Lando asked. “Charles kissed Riley! Never mind that, Riley kissed Charles!”

“It’s not our place to step in and do anything about it,” George said as a matter of factly.

Lando rolled his eyes. “Oh please, if you believed that we wouldn’t be here right now doing what we’re doing.”

“Incorrect, Lando. I was never here,” George corrected him.

“Mate, come on,” Lando said. “We both know you’re gonna do something about it, so stop pretending.”

George huffed in response. “She just hasn’t been herself lately,” he said glumly. “I thought maybe it was something to do with her whole dating Pierre reveal, but clearly she doesn’t seem to care much about the guy if she’s over here snogging Charles.”

Lando scoffed in derision. “Charles doesn't snog. I mean, he's much too prince like don't you think? But honestly, you’d think she’d consult her best friend–”

“Second best friend,” George jutted in correction.

“–before two-timing a guy,” he finished without falter. “What good am I for then, George? What good am I to her?” He barked dramatically as if that was what was most important at the moment.

“Keep your voice down, mate!” George said again. “Never mind, I need to get going anyway." “Sooo?” Lando asked.

“So what?” George questioned.

“So Riley! What are we gonna do? You never answered my question.”

“I think it’s high time I had a conversation with our Monegasque prince. Don't you think?”

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Out of all the places George was expecting to find Charles–his room for starters–the hotel bar was not one of them. It didn’t make sense given that Charles hardly ever touches his drinks when they’re all together. If anything, it only drew more concern in George about the situation.

“What are you doing here, mate?” Charles questioned, his eyes glazed over with the distinct feeling of disappointment.

George was surprised that Charles had spotted him at all. He quickly wiped any emotion off of his face and took a seat on the bar stool next to Charles. “I could ask you the same thing,” George responded coolly.

Charles let out a groan, possibly in frustration or annoyance. At what though, George was unsure. “Did she tell you to come here? To berate me for my actions? Demanding an apology as always?” He huffed.

“No, mate. She doesn’t even know I’m here,” George answered without giving into Charles’ childish whining. This response, however, only made Charles hang his head lower until he swung his head back taking the final gulps of his drink. George winced at the sight as if he could feel the burning in his own throat, but Charles didn’t show any signs of discomfort. He really was annoyingly perfect like a prince, George scoffed to himself. “I just want to know what’s going on. Riley is my best friend and from what I can see, you and yours are toying with her. You know what she’s been through. You know she doesn’t deserve it.”

Charles grits his teeth at the insinuation that he’s torturing Riley for fun. Not when he feels just as tortured by her in his own right. “It’s not like that. It’s not like that at all,” he spits out.

“Then explain it to me,” George shrugs. “Explain to me what it is you think you know about Riley and why I shouldn’t just cut your head off for hurting my best friend.” Charles tenses at the threat and George feels a surge of achievement at the sight.

“I don’t want to hurt her, but just being around her is agonizing for me,” Charles senses George’s glare on him and quickly explains himself. “I think I’m in love with her,” he says finally.

George is silent for a beat. “Oh. Oh,” is all he can say. This was not the take he was expecting to hear. He wanted to put a stop to all of this, but he knows well enough that there was no stopping this if Charles really means it.

“Yeah,” Charles says in agreement. “But it doesn’t matter because she doesn’t feel the same way. Not to mention, it’s my best friend she’s messing around with. Not that he deserves her, but he’s always been a bit of an idiot.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it then?” It’s only the next logical thing to ask in George’s mind.

He also takes note of the people beginning to pass more frequently through the bar. It was so late into the night that it had already given way to morning. Early risers in the hotel would notice soon enough that two Formula One drivers were sitting at a bar, one drinking his sorrows. It wouldn’t be a good look in the media.

“Nothing,” Charles shrugged.

“What?!” George almost shrieks, drawing eyes to their attention. “You can’t just not do anything about it! At the very least help me get her away from Pierre’s clutches. If you think me wanting to cut your head off was bad, it was generous compared to what I want to do to your little French friend.”

Charles shuddered at the thought. “It’s not my place anymore. If Riley wants to get her heart broken by someone who would be glad enough to do it, I can’t stop her. It’s her choice, no matter how volatile it makes me.”

“Yes, you can, you prat,” George sneers. Charles looks at him with astonishment. Up until this moment he had always thought of George as poised and dignified.

“Tell her how you feel,” George tells him as if it was that simple. “You’re saying it’s her choice,” he continues, “but how can it be her choice if she doesn’t even know she has options to choose from.” With that, he pushes his stool back and stands up.

He doesn’t wait for Charles’ response as he pats the other man on the shoulder and says, “I suggest you get out of here soon, mate. Wouldn’t want the public to think poorly of their Monegasque prince.”

Charles does leave soon enough to return to his room, but going there means having to pass by Riley’s room. And unfortunately for him, it was right as Pierre was exiting it.

His friend gives him a smirk as if the two are in on some secret, but he doesn’t say anything as he descends down the hall and out of sight.

Charles opens his door bitterly and plops onto his bed in a most unrefined manner. The comfort he felt as he sunk further into the mattress was not enough to combat his racing anxieties and the anger he didn’t know he felt. Because that was what he felt when he saw Pierre exiting Riley’s room. He wanted to punch his best friend in a way he had never felt towards him before. He didn’t know how to explain the rising feeling of anguish at the sight of him leaving her room otherwise.

Maybe George was right. He has to do something about this. He has to win her over because if he can’t, he doesn’t think he’ll survive the torment of Riley Wolff. Even if it means taking Pierre down with him.

But first, he needs sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

A/N: Let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to be added to the taglist for all future chapters!

Taglist: @leclercwifey @hihiroc511-blog @omnesmorimur3 @siovhanroy @charlesswife @chilifanacc @satanfinalgirl @nikolaisblog @91vhs @dr3lover @onlyonetifosi @chiliwhore @nataliambc @leclerc13 @moonclaine @deepestkpoponanime

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freddiemercurylegendabovelegends · 2 months

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Thanks #Leoferbeno #OfficialInternationalQueenFanClub #clarin

Leloir Park, Buenos Aires 1981 - Freddie and Ricardo Petracca

Dinner of the band at Ricardo Petracca's house after the show.

Petracca : "I remember Freddie, he was a great, great guy"

Not everyone can take a picture with a glittering artist worldwide. Ricardo Petracca (67) did it some time ago, and today he can boast of having an image no less than with Freddie Mercury, when he was 29 years old. And as if this were not enough, it is not just any, because it takes the Queen vocalist on his shoulders.

It is known that the legendary British rock band took their music to the last corner of the planet. In 1981, for example, it was the first great band to include Latin America in its tours. Many Argentines treasure in their hearts the passage of "The Queen" by the Club Vélez Sarsfield, in Capital; by Rosario, Córdoba and Mar del Plata.

Ricardo Petracca, a neighbor of Pilar for 25 years and nephew of the then president of Vélez, was one of the few people who could enjoy the stay of Queen well up close. "I did not want a normal photo, so it got on my shoulders and the photographer of the band captured the moment," he laughs.

Account that Mercury had the custom to sing the subject "We Will Rock You" raised "to caballito" of a custodian disguised of a personage of science fiction. This is how the idea came about and the moment was reflected in a photograph that is currently framed in the house of Ricardo's younger son.

As good hosts, his family invited the British group to a barbecue in his villa in Parque Leloir, in Ituzaingó. But Petracca only wanted to have a picture with the singer.

"To be honest, I was never a faithful follower of 'Queen'. I did not know them as much, I preferred to listen more to the Rolling Stones and even Latin music, "he reveals against what anyone could imagine. And he says: "One day they offered to buy me the photo, but I did not want to. It's something I keep for myself, and it transpired from one day to the next. "

The photograph shows that original moment, but the reality is that the Pilaren was with the members of the band during the 20 days of his stay in the country. That 27 of February of 1981 had to go to look for them to the Airport of Ezeiza, where hundreds of fans waited for their arrival. "There were many people willing to do anything to get close to their idols. With custody we had to invent a kind of fence to protect Freddie and make him enter the hotel, "he recalls.

"The shows in Vélez I lived on the side of the stage. During the recital, Freddie was transformed and was carried away by the adrenaline ", recognizes. The 40 thousand people who crowded the stadium vibrated to the rhythm of rock and remember that it was so powerful "the blow of the sound of the speakers that ran to the people of their place".

"I remember him as a guy, we spent hours talking about life," he admits modestly. In the course of those days, they cultivated a friendship that kept her in time with the sending of letters. "At that time my family had the largest glass company in Argentina. In the barbecue we shared, he saw one of our vitraux and commissioned one for us by letter for his house in London, "he says. Although with a hand in his heart he confesses that he doubts that the piece has reached its destination.

The photo, his anecdotes with the emblematic band and his personal bond with Mercury, make Petracca the envy of the followers of Queen. "I lived very nice moments. If he were alive, I'd love to meet him again. He was a very special character, "he says with some nostalgia

#1981 #buenosaires1981 #buenos aires #argentina #freddie mercury #queen band #london #zanzibar #legend #queen #brian may #john deacon #freddiebulsara #roger taylor #s america bites the dust tour #ricardo petracca

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missbeautyandherbeast · 4 months

Text

Ways to My Heart

Donatello X Reader

Summary: Request: Originally based on “Ways to Break My Heart” by Ed Sheeran but it got healthier

A/n: Apparently I appear every Christmas and rewrite an old prompt. And now that I'm older and healthier, it's kinda fun. And y'all were right, we're not about to be a rebound. So, for my dear @witchancunin, I hope you don't mind that it's been four years.

Autumn was settling in. With the wave after wave of rain that we had, there were little colors to the dying trees. Some scientific reason about fungi and decay. Donnie had explained it, but I barely payed attention.

Not that I wasn’t paying attention to him: I was too focused. We were working on a new lego set and I had one to many to drink to pit the small plastic pieces together so he took over and his fingers though larger than mine, were so nimble and they pursued the legos with ease as he assembled a BD-1 droid: my present to him after we finished The Fallen Order together.

The thought of us playing made me smile. I played through most of the game, getting my Star Wars fix, but when it became too difficult, I’d get so frustrated and Donnie would laugh and take the controller from me and defeat whatever stood in my way. I loved and hated him for it.

But that didn’t change the fact that New York was wet and colorless.

I took the hidden alley, now slick with today’s chilled rain, and followed the path down to his home and the warmth it offered. And when winter came and I missed the heat of my hometown—which was safe and sound in the middle of Georgia—four brothers did their best to keep me temperate: Mikey was all hugs; Raphael actually knitted me a sweater last winter (yes it was purple, no I don’t want to talk about it); Leo let me invade his space now and again if he was meditating; and Donnie… well there was no place warmer than his lab. Between the tech and the constant blush he knew how to get on my face and down my neck… it was where I spent most of my time.

“Still no color,” I sighed, shrugging off my coat and hanging it in my usual spot by his door.

“I told you there wouldn’t bet be,” His eyes flashed to mine before returning to his project.

“A girl can dream,” A smile touched my lips as I wandered over to see what he was working on.

In front of him was a circuit board and he was soldering wires to the metal with such precision. I left him to it, having no idea the plans in his head of creation, and I found my book on one of his other work stations. Picking it up, I resumed reading—a romance novel I let myself indulge in now and again when I was over stressed. This one was about chess and it was set in Jersey, which I found hysterical.

I must have made a sound, or a face, or some sort of tell because I heard his voice pulling me from the fictional world.

“What did Nolan do now?” Donnie asked, pushing back from his desk and over to where I was curled up.

“Not Nolan,” the story’s main guy. “It’s Oz. He’s definitely telling off Mallory right now,”

“Oooo what did she do?” I had his full attention. And it wasn’t the first time. He insisted that every time I read a book I tell him about it, despite the many insistings that he read them himself.

“I like your perspective,” He told me once. “Books are dull, dry, but you bring them alive,”

So, I launched into the tale, weaving the complexities of the plot with my words and gestures, the poor book being waved around. And all the while his eyes stayed on mine, and he gave the softest smile that belonged to only me.

He always kept me warm.

When it go late enough, and we had joined his family in having pizza and watching tv (we were currently going through the newer She-Ra on Netflix), I had to trek back out into the cold.

“Let me take you home,” Donnie piped up, seeing me get my coat and boots.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I rolled my eyes.

“I know,” He said with such certainty. “Let me do it anyway.” There was that warmth again.

“Okay,”

Raph gave me a knowing look but I ignored him.

And like greeting an old friend, we had our routine. Donnie would stay, and we’d curl up on my couch and watch old reruns of Doctor Who until we were both asleep in the comfort of my apartment.

And it was warm.

……………………………….

Then April came.

And God it was so nice to have a friend who was in on the secret. We explored New York together, had movie nights, and so many girl talks that may have involved some alcohol.

But it meant I had to watch Donnie fall head over heels for her—from my usual spot in his lab, as he showed her all of his projects, chattering happily.

I told myself it didn’t bother me. And it didn’t.

Sorta.

Maybe?

Shut up.

Hiding it from Donnie was easy. Hiding it from the rest of his family? Not so much.

“You okay kid?” Raph asked, standing beside me as Donnie explained the entire Shell-Razer to April.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” My voice was low.

“Because my brother’s an ass,”

I laughed humorlessly. “We weren’t together Raph.” A shrug fell from my shoulders as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the lingering chill. “It’s fine. I’m—fine.”

It was a few weeks later that I came to the lair; always having an excuse to not accompany April. I could see it in her eyes that she knew something was up, but she didn’t call me out on it—yet.

“Miss Y/n,” Splinter stopped me as I entered.

“Master Splinter,” I gave a small head nod.

“Let’s talk child,” His words caught me off guard.

“Um. Okay,” I followed him to the meditation room that was lit softly with sparse candles.

“You have not been coming around as often.” It was a statement. Not a question.

“Yeah,” I knew no excuse would work on the old master, and the father of four boys.

“Is everything alright?” He rose an eyebrow and I gave a feeble lie:

“Yeah,”

He nodded. “Let’s try that again. Everything is not alright.”

Tears glossed my vision and the familiar pain flooded my chest like ice. I tilted my chin back, holding my head high.

“Master, there’s nothing I can do.” I opened my mouth to continue trying to find the courage. “I care deeply for him,” My eyes trained on a candle flame. “But I never told him and… that’s my consequence to live with,”

“I see,” His wise voice held so much understanding that it washed over me. “And because of that choice, you do not come around as often?”

“It hurts less,” That was the simple fact. “I don’t have to watch him…”

“Chase after April?” Splinter filled in knowing.

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Perhaps you and April should talk,”

“Look, I don’t—“

“Y/n,” He cut me off and I pursed my lips. “April is your best friend, and I have a feeling she wants to help you,”

“I know,” He was right, and maybe hearing git gave me the courage to say something after all. A smile touched my lips. “Thanks Sensei.”

“I care about my family,” He said. “And that includes my daughters,”

Tears stung my eyes again as he gave me a hug.

“Thank you,”

“Of course, child,”

……………………………………….

April and I did sit down and talk. More of she called me out on moping and avoiding the subject. So, we sat on our fire escape and talked. About everything.

She knew when she first got there that there was something going on between Donnie and me. And though she loved the brothers, she didn’t like Donnie that way. She also knew that was the reason I was avoiding going to the lair.

“I’m sorry,” She said.

“For what?” I almost laughed.

“Because, before I came, there would have been no doubt that you and Donnie would be together by now,”

“Hey I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” I smiled. “And if… if Donnie wants to be… whatever the heck this is, I can handle it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” April said. “I want you to be happy Y/n. And I want you back at the lair. I… I just want you to have your life back,”

“It wouldn’t be as fun without you.”

“I know,” She laughed. “But I am going to talk to Donnie,” She must have seen the horror on my face. “Not about you! God no! But I’m gonna tell him that I don’t feel that way about him, and hopefully he gets the message,”

I nodded. “Thanks April,”

When April had told me that Donnie took their talk semi-well, I still gave it a few weeks before I headed to the lair, not wanting to have to pick up the aftermath of his shattered fantasy.

With end of Spring, I had my family back.

There was a cool distance between Donnie and I that was slowly thawing until I was back in his lab reading and he was fidgeting with his tools. It took another week for him to ask me about my book. And another week for him to take me home. And a few more days for his smile to be back. And a couple more for mine to stay. I wrestled with what had happened in the winter and spring, trying to look for the other shoe to drop.

But when the six of us played a board game, or watched movies or even had dinner, all that was felt was camaraderie. Donnie didn’t notice April anymore and he backed down. Raph kept a careful eye just like I did. When he caught my stare, Raph rose an eyebrow at me, glancing to Donnie. I shrugged and smiled.

I didn’t know.

And I think that was okay.

I think I was okay.

With summer, meant my birthday. June 14th. The boys and April insisted on throwing a big party for me in the lair with cake and presents and music and dancing. I hadn’t laughed so much in months.

Donnie offered to walk me home, like always. Like old times. Like now.

We were standing on my roof, all I had to do was climb down the fire escape to the apartment April and I shared.

“Happy birthday,” His smile was back, and God I had missed it. All of the careful walls I had built around myself came crashing down at the simple gesture.

“Thanks Donnie,”

And in the starlight of the roof, alone with the city alive beneath us, he leaned in and his lips were on mine. A stolen kiss that had me wrecked.

Donnie pulled away, wonder in my eyes, and confusion in his.

“I—I’m sorry,” He stammered out, his brows pulling together.

“It’s… it’s okay,” I managed a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, backing away. “That… I didn’t mean—it was a mistake,” He choked out.

My body jerked back with the rejection that crashed over it.

“What?” My voice was as cold as ice.

“I—I don’t know why I did that.”

“Oh, okay,” I managed.

He was gone like a shadow in the night and I stood there frozen.

…………………………………

I must have been up there for too long, because April came up to find me.

“Hey are you okay?” Her voice was concerned.

“Um,” Was all I could manage.

“What happened? Donnie came back and he’s not talking. He’s barricaded himself in his lab.”

“Um.” I said again. “He… he kissed me.”

“Oh my God that’s amazing!” April celebrated, but paused when she saw the dread in my eyes. “Then what happened?”

“He. Um. Said it was a mistake.” I choked out.

“I—I’m—I’m actually going to kill him,” April said. “He said that? To you!? After kissing you!?” She was outraged, and maybe I should have been too, but it was like my entire body had gone into a comatose. She took my hands into hers. I met her eyes. Tears finally thawed and started to fall.

“Oh, honey come here,” She pulled me into a hug and I started crying. Every tear I had denied finally rushed forward, and soon I was sobbing on that roof.

“Did I do something wrong?” I asked her, miserable. We had made it back to the flat, and we were curled up on my bed.

“No, honey, you didn’t.” April soothed, petting my hair.

The next morning he was standing in my living room. The two of us. Standing like we had not twenty four hours ago. But the morning was different. Now I couldn’t bare to be near him. It was only because April said I should at least get closure this time that I was even out here.

I stared at him, my lips pursed, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m sorry,” He blurted out. “That—what I said, it wasn’t what I meant.” He started pacing anxiously. “Look, I know that I hurt you with that whole April thing, and I haven’t apologized for that and I really should and I want to!” His words began tumbling together in his nervousness. “And I wanted to do that before I ever did anything else, and God definitely before kissing you, but you were there so close on that roof and you were just beautiful, and I—I’m so sorry,”

I blinked. My face when through a series of expressions before settling on shocked confusion.

“I know!” Donnie insisted. “God, I know and I’m so sorry Y/n. Especially for not explaining last night. But I was panicking and—“ He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for chasing after April like I did. I genuinely thought that you’d never want me like that. And that was a dick thing for me to do. And I’m sorry for hurting you for so long.” He smiled a bit. “And I’m sorry for crossing your boundaries last night. And for not sticking around and explaining. Also a dick move on my part. So… yeah,” He nodded, not daring to meet my eyes.

“Um. Okay,” I managed. “Uh… wow.”

“I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry,” He said.

“You can stop apologizing Donnie,” I gave a small laugh. “That’s um… alright. Thanks? I think?”

“Are you mad?” His eyes met mine. “I don’t know…” I confessed. “Um I think I need a minute. Or two,”

“Right! Yeah! Of course! Take as much time as you need!” He said backing away. “Um—I’m gonna go and give you space, but you can come over or call or anything anytime—we are still having game night tonight, so if you want to come—not that you have to!” He was an anxious mess again.

I placed my hand on his arm to stop him. “Thank you,” I smiled pointedly.

“Right, um… I’ll just be off then,” He nodded, backing away. “Bye.”

“Bye?” I laughed. And like that he was gone again. “Hey April?” I called, knowing she heard all of that.

She emerged from her room.

“You heard all of that right?” I clarified.

“Every word,” She was grinning.

“Why does it all feel so weird?” I asked. “Like really weird.”

“Because that my dear,” April said. “Was emotional maturity.”

“Is that what that looks like?”

“For the most part,” April nodded. “So, what are you feeling?”

“That, it all makes sense? And I want to believe him? And that its still really weird,”

“All fair feelings,” April said.

The hours ticked by until game night at the lair. April and I had gone back and forth about going or not. And when it came time to it… I was putting on my sneakers and grabbing my bag.

I walked into the lair and I felt every stare on me. I was only looking for one gaze though.

“Hey,” He said, getting up, looking genuinely surprised that I was there.

“Hey.” I smiled. “Can we talk?”

Tags: @brightlotusmoon@boatloadsofheart@legandarybeauty@crazywritingbug@bitch-kms@ravn-87@just-a-casual-fangirl-011@unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox@ilikestuffproductions@whygz@coffee-addicti@sugarspooks15@leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies@fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan@big-banging-red@iceprincess2019@raphaeladdict@thirstyforvenom @merindagriese@depressedemo-152@bengewatch@corabmarie@bitemebro522@tmnt-queen@muleka-loka@violet-sky-96 @curadopordeus@artemismohr18 @thewhisperpen @xjupitermoonsx@bisexualbumblebeesstuf f @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3 @dixonreedusfangirlforever@shanidenise@thegayestfish441@lovelyyroseee@yourlieberhoe@dolphincommander@molzies-fanfics@fuzzy-panda@msmcsmutt @zombiesnips-blog

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artemiseamoon · 1 year

Text

Preview: Sin pt 4

Miguel x f reader | bi! Pacho x f reader | ft (briefly) Cali Cartel *

Words: 6,297

I no longer write reader inserts, so consider this one of my last ever. 💕

Fic info /chapter key/ warnings (disclaimers there as well)

An: when I refer to Miguel ex wife it’s not Maria. Maria is a queen and i hate omitting her but I can’t do her dirty. I love her. Let’s imagine she is somewhere living her best life. This wife is someone else.

Warnings: overall canon show and content ones, sex, drinking, adultery.

📣Shout out to @thesolotomyhan, since it’s been so long, I needed to hype myself up by rereading some of her sexy head canons. It helped me weave my scattered notes for this chapter into place.

😤To those ppl who like to harass writers who use their imagination and pair Pacho with a women just out of pure imagination and make believe - if any of you are reading, leave me alone. There is zero reason to write me. Yes he is bi in my *make believe* fiction - I am no longer explaining myself after this. - signing off, a bisexual queer writer who uses her damn imagination.

Below is a preview ~ read on a03

Flashback - A few weeks ago

It was dark out when the plane landed. Everyone was exhausted and there was very little conversation. You couldn’t wait to get home and sleep in your own bed, to get away from all this tension for a little while. Miguel felt like a volcano about to burst and for the last couple of hours, you’ve had this bad feeling stirring in your gut, like something terrible was about to happen.

Amado was first to leave, you said your goodbyes and watched him drive off. After the car vanished in the distance, you turned to Miguel, Azul was up ahead waiting for him, and from the look on his face, you knew he had some bad news.

“I’m going to head home. I’ll see you later.” As you said, studying Miguels eyes.

He was distracted, understandably so. Miguel nodded with tense brows.

"Goodnight Miguel.” You gently touched his shoulder, then walked to your driver.

On the way over, you took a deep breath. Though Miguel's whole plan went to shit, you’re thankful he'll be occupied. The last thing on his mind won't be what you were up to. Maybe you can keep your Pacho secret a little longer.

Now, Saturday

Champagne flows freely as the guests fill the room with conversation, laughter, and general revelry. The overall vibe is upbeat and from the outside, this would look like just any rich person's party.

It was parties just like this that reunited you and Miguel all those years ago. It takes you back to that first night you kissed on the balcony, when he was a better version of himself, not yet tainted by all of this.

Before, Miguel was an old schoolmate turned bodyguard who stole your heart. Now, here you are, on his arm at a fancy political Gala. The last time he invited you to one of these as his date you told him to fuck off. You weren’t speaking to him, and in true Miguel fashion, he showed up at your door anyway.

"I told you to stay away from me. Leave me alone, Miguel!" You started to close the door.

He stopped it, "from you, yes. Not this town, not this street." He said with that air of smug confidence of his.

Now, here you are, sitting beside him at the round table with a black cloth draped across it. Gold accents on the glasses and decorations, and one of the richest meals you've ever had in your stomach.

You’re not sure why you said yes to this one, maybe it's that little part of you that feels guilty about Pacho, or the even smaller part that still wants to hold on to a piece of Miguel.

You haven’t spent a lot of time with him in the last week due to a mix of avoidance and fearing he’ll look into your eyes long enough to know your secret. Then there's the other part of you, that third part that wants him to find out. It wants to see the look in his eyes once he knows you’ve been fucking the man he hates…

Keep reading here on A03

More Narcos

No taglist. I hope to wrap this one up very soon. Subscribe to the fic on A03! Check back here and on @artemiseamoon-updates

#miguel angel felix gallardo #pacho herrera #fic: sin #bi! Pacho x f reader

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

Note

Do you do song fiction? If so, can you do 'Sabotage' from Bebe Rexha with Olivia x Reader?

---

🎵 Why do I sabotage everything I love? It's always beautiful until I fuck it up.🎵

"No, it is over with us." those words kept ringing in Olivia´s head.

Your voice shrouded in a brine of sadness, anger and betrayal. She looked at you pleadingly, wanting you to stay but with these words, you walked out of her apartment with all your belongings and left the otherwise tough woman wince in place when you slammed the door in her face with a cruel bang.

🎵 Tell myself I'm safe and lonely With nobody else to break my heart Even though I know you'd never I'm my own worst enemy and think you are🎵

Olivia sat on the floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs that were pressed firmly against her body. Tears ran freely from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks and forming a lake down her chin. She had lost her best friend. Her soulmate. The woman she never wanted to hurt and forever keep at her side.

You were her only footing, her pillar in the sea of weary and tiring days that blurred into one another without which she could not be. With you, she found peace, comfort and true love that touched her for the first time and completely enveloped her into a bubble.

But all that seemed over from now on.

🎵 Matches in my back pocket I'm the queen of burning bridges I will only let you down🎵

Olivia started hating herself. It was not her best friends fault that seduced her into kissing him. It was alone her fault. She had fallen for him because of the hopeless and tricky situation she had been during a case and he had just been there- She alone had chosen to be the bad guy in this.

Elliot was her past and you her present. And she wanted you to be her future too.

🎵Why do I sabotage everything I love? It's always beautiful until I fuck it up Why do I sabotage everything I love? The walls are closing in because I built them up🎵

The Lieutenant was suddenly overcome by an urge for oxygen and panicked when she could not get it. The feeling of her body being on fire spread through her veins while her heart grew emptier and colder from your absence. The warmth evaporated from her like a drop on a hot stone.

She felt her heart clench inside, thousand tiny, sharp needles puncturing it; a frighteningly familiar feeling.

🎵Why can't I let myself be happy? (Ooh) Why do I gotta get in my own way? (Ooh) My shoes are worn out, always runnin' From the reasons that I really wanna stay🎵

For the first time in a long while, she felt fear flare up inside her. The overwhelming silence in the lonely and deserted apartment crushed her and she cried out in desperation, but not a sound left her lips.

What had she done? Why would she jeopardize your relationship just to know how it feels to kiss her best friend in a moment of weakness?

The brunette had been stupid. Of all the horrible mistakes she made in her life, this was by far the stupidest she had ever done. How was she supposed to survive without the most important person in her life?

🎵Why do I sabotage everything I love? It's always beautiful until I fuck it up Why do I sabotage everything I love? The walls are closing in because I built them up🎵

She rocked back and forth sobbing bitterly. Lonely and alone, lost and abandoned, she sat there and her heart ached. She pressed her palm firmly against her chest, gasping with an reddened face as her hand slid over her ribs. Her cold fingers gripped her sweater, wishing she could hold your hands instead.

Many who knew Olivia might describe her as a strong woman, but that was just the side of herself she showed on the outside. Inside, life had torn her soul into pieces and hurt her as a result.

Only when you came along and gave her the time she needed to get used to you, you subconsciously had glued the shattered pieces of her heart together with love and adoration.

🎵So don't let me hope too high Don't let me hope too high🎵

The memories tugged at her heart. The atmosphere around her began to cool down as if you had soaked up the energy from the otherwise cheerful rooms and carried them with you when you left, sending a chill down her spine.

Olivia knew that she would feel empty, every second would feel like torture for as long until you were with her again.

🎵 'Cause I will find a way to tear it down every time Don't let me hope too high When everything is right 'Cause I will find a way to tear it down every time I sabotage everything I love It's always beautiful until I fuck it up Why do I sabotage everything I love?🎵

Olivia missed your stubborn, cheeky and at the same time loving nature around her already. Strong and unique, maybe even extraordinary, she had come to know and love you and sparked a close bond between friendship and relationship that ended in family.

After each setback, you'd gotten back up and kept going. You had experienced and survived the most diverse and dangerous adventures together. Defeated the worst of the worst. Together.

And now it all just ended like this. Because of a broken and crushed heart.

🎵 It's always beautiful until I fuck it up Why do I sabotage everything I love? The walls are closing in because I built them up Why do I sabotage?🎵

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sailorgundam308 · 6 months

Text

BG3 introspection bit

This one isn't edgy or funny. I just feel like sharing, prompted by seeing how, indeed, BG3 is one of the greatest if not THE greatest pieces of entertainment we've got in a long while. But I know for so many people it turned out to be much more than just that. That includes me. To make a long story short, I've been living a full world away from my loved ones for almost a decade, in a place that is particularly hostile towards me. I'm here out of necessity and choice, since my other option happens to be worse. It's been shockingly lonely, until I grew used to the isolation. Still, I made do. I make do. Around a few years back, and especially last year, things took a turn for the much worse. I've spiraled into a very, very dark place, which in turn isolated me even more from other people - but also from myself.

Being so far away from familiarity and the things I love worn me down, and disconnected from who I am and what I enjoy. To the point I effectively stayed in a limbo, frozen in time, empty, for the past years. It's been way more scary than when I was obviously and loudly sad or depressed, because at least then I had energy to react in some way. As an artist by profession and by passion, it was even more concerning that I could not create ANYTHING - words, images, even concepts. My mind had been simply silent, dead. I quite literally spent the last 3-4 years just existing, going to my job like a mindless clockwork because otherwise I wouldn't be able to make rent and end up getting deported. I knew I was utterly and completely lost, and had no idea what I could grab onto to pull me out. It was as if I couldn't move - I did not really wanted to, somehow.

It happens to everyone, I think, that sometimes a seemingly random thing that you engage with unexpectedly becomes a sort of lifeline. It happened to me once before, during a complicated part of my teens. And now it seemed to have happened again because I decided to play Baldur's Gate 3. I mentioned before, I am a bit older and have played BG1 and BG2, and also DnD and the like. I've always been the nerdy artsy type, and it had always fueled my imagination and gave me energy to keep creating, keep moving, searching, growing.

It was really a struck of luck that I heard the news that BG3 was a thing. I was so isolated I did not engage with any piece of media anymore - I watched no news, no movies, no series, read no books. When I think about it, it's really scary how I felt absolutely nothing, how truly empty of any will to live I was. But it's been wild for a while now. I happened to be on 'vacation' when BG3 got released, and I was sucked into it like I was desperate. And I probably was. I needed anything to take me away from where I was, who (or the lack of) I had become. The game did just that. It's not a coincidence I put 750+ hours in it. I could not stand looking at my own circumstances and somehow I managed to finally escape anywhere else. While I recognize I went to the opposite extreme of (problematic) engagement, I also saw how my mind seeemed to switch on again after a while - as if I was reminded of how it used to be.

Ideas, cohesive thoughts, images, the unavoidable urge to move, to create something - all these things that made me ME started to come back.

I remembered how much I enjoyed fantasy, fiction, having ideas, organizing, planning, making things come true - how much just marking a paper with a pencil brings me joy. How my own mind can be rich and exciting, and how I have the skills to translate those impulses into reality. And that is what made me, all my life. It's hard to explain how I feel after 4 years not creating a single thing, having no impulse or creative idea and watching life pass in a haze, now I feel like I'm finally reconecting to something precious. My doctor even pointed it out, how it seems I'm finally waking up after years, coming out of whatever dark hole I've been in.

While it's been a short while, I'm very aware this is essentially a hyperfixation, but for someone who (even though I tried) could not feel anything towards anything for so long, this seems like a blessing. And I'm doing my best to make a stair out of it - use the momentum to branch out into other things I know I need and miss, the other things that have always been part of my life that I'd let go of.

I'm probably not the only one who clicked with this game, and it somehow pulled us out of strange, scary places. Even though it's a lot of projection on our part, people in such situations need something they relate to in order to project onto, to grab to float. Not everything works, it must be something special to the person at the right time. Lucky me that Baldur's Gate 3 happened when it did, the way it did, and that I was where I was.

I'm really, truly happy I stumbled onto the news of the game, for whatever reason took action to actually buy it, open and play it. When I did, I had no idea it would be the lifeline I'd grab onto. But it's been, and it meant so much to me. That's all of my sad introspective blurb. I have no way of explaining how thankful I feel to everyone who put this game together. While it wasn't the intention of the creators, BG3 gave me the push I so desperately needed and that nothing else had managed to.

I'd still be lost in a very dark place without it.

:')

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #personal #tw mental health #tw depression #serious shit #introspection #kinda random #very raw #blurb

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duck-in-a-thrift-store · 14 days

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Alright, ik it's been a little while but now it's time for room/character closeup #3

~Max & El's room~

Right off the bat I think it goes without saying their room is quite a bit more *fun* than some of the others; it was heavily inspired by the early s3 aesthetic (before everything went to shit that is), like when Max was helping El try out a new style, so I hope that shows in the colors and patterns I used for the wallpaper/rug/beds

(Also- this isn't character specific- it just makes me happy how the chair matches the wallpaper and the bedspread matches some of the colors in the posters)

Speaking of the posters

I remembered Max introducing El to comics at their sleepover (also s3) so I wanted to use posters that had that comic book/pop art feel to them, hence the pieces over the beds

Max is on the left. I felt like the sheer *attitude* it conveyed was something she would appreciate, that it suited her

El is on the right, and there's like a whole tangent to that one* but it's also another call-back to that s3 moment of Max showing El her comics and telling her who Wonder Woman is (listen I just really loved their dynamic and interactions in s3 ok)

*You might be wondering "duck why would you put a superheroine poster over El's bed are you really taking such a cliche/obvious approach with the decor here"

Listen babe. It's nuanced, okay?

First of all, yeah basically. I'm fine with being cliche. I do what I want and it fit the general vibe I was going for

But more importantly, remember how I mentioned in... one of the other notes posts for this au I honestly don't remember which one at this point- how a recurring theme here will be characters reclaiming things? At least I think I posted that, I know I wrote it down somewhere-

But anywho, yes, this is one of those instances

So I think, before now, El would have gotten to a point where she really resented "superheroes" -or more accurately, being compared to them

After everything. After being taken from her mother and having her childhood stolen from her in order to train her into a mini super soldier. After always having to be the strong one and fighting every battle. After always having to be the superhero for everyone else and still feeling like she can't ever seem to hit the bad guys hard enough to keep them down for good, to keep her friends safe. After having all those expectations and all that pressure on her for years when really she just wants to move on and be a normal kid and get to live her life

And yeah, maybe also after Mike's weak ass speech at the end of s4. I'd probably feel pretty icky if my boyfriend tried to encourage me by reminding me that my value comes from being a sword and shield rather than a person, if I kept getting put on this suffocating pedestal of always having to push myself to keep everyone else safe, and if I believed that was the very reason I was loved

[Don't take this the wrong way I love Michael Wheeler he's like a son to me but I do think that his and El's relationship was very unhealthy and that he didn't handle things very well]

So uh. Yeah. El hated superheroes for a little bit. I'm not sure when they put that poster up but it wasn't when they first moved in

However

After getting away from the place tied to so much of her trauma, so many of her burdens; after getting out of the situation that kept forcing her into the superhero role, I think her views on superheroes just as an objective, fictional concept would start to soften

And also I think the way Max handles it- treating her like she's awesome and strong and special but not dehumanizing her, trusting her but not pressuring her, encouraging her to be and embrace herself- that has something to do with it as well. It teaches her that she can be a superhero if she wants to be, but she doesn't have to. She does have superhuman abilities, but she herself gets to decide what, if anything, to do with them

When they all ditch Hawkins and move into the new house, El doesn't have to fight anymore. They've left the Upside Down and all its monsters, the empty lab and all its ghosts, behind them. For the first time in... well, pretty much her whole life, she doesn't have to fight, she doesn't have to use her powers, she doesn't have to play the hero. She gets to just... be a kid. A person

And everyone still loves her. Everyone still treats her like a part of the family, like she matters

So maybe she doesn't have to be a superhero. And maybe she doesn't have to hate them, either

But the concept is still something tied to her identity, something floating in the back of her mind; it's an identity in which she found value and strength, at a point in her life when she didn't really know who she was yet

So she still thinks about heroes. And she slowly comes to appreciate them in media, like the comic book heroes Max tells her about. Distinctly separate from herself and from her reality and past. From that safe distance away, they're admirable, captivating, impressive, compelling. And, yeah, maybe a little relatable

And... she finds that she's ok with that

She finds that she likes it, actually

Until eventually El has a strong appreciation for heroes, for their strength and what they stand for, because she understands them- but she doesn't have to be one of them anymore. Removed from the dangers and the expectations, she can see heroes- and herself- simply for what they are, instead of through that lens of pain and resentment and obligation

In the place she has found herself in life, she comes to terms with the fact that she is badass, she is important, she has value, and that those facts remain even when she isn't fighting anything

And in knowing it isn't required, that the people around her see her and love her for who she is rather than just what she can do, passively being likened to a hero doesn't feel so crushing anymore. Maybe she even starts to casually refer to herself as a hero from time to time, maybe jokingly, maybe ironically, maybe sarcastically, but deep down she does still feel that tie, that connection, in some ways- only now it doesn't hurt

And now she loves superheroes, enough to put one on her wall

[Btw, this whole analysis thing was heavily allegorical for my relationship with gender and I hope that shows. Superheroes=womanhood/femininity. If you get it you get it]

That ran away from me a little bit. Um. Moving right along, I guess

The third poster isn't that deep tbh I mostly picked it because it matched the wallpaper colors lol but I do think "good things are coming" would be a nice message to wake up to for two people who have been through so fucking much already at such a young age, remind them that they still have a wonderful life ahead of them despite the horrors in their past, y'know?

And then there's Max's skateboard, at the foot of her bed

It's symbolic it's important it matters that she brought it with her

She got hurt pretty damn badly at the end of s4, and nobody knew for sure if she was even going to survive, let alone whether she'd be able to skateboard again

But she did survive, and her body got pretty fucked up but she was in recovery, and maybe she'd never be quite the same again but she wasn't going to let that stop her, she wasn't going to give up

Her legs aren't as strong and her balance isn't as good as it used to be but she's determined to use that skateboard again no matter how many times she falls over relearning how to do it (and someone is always there to help her get back on her feet, if she wants them to. Yes it's Lucas how did you know)

Anyway I just think Max Mayfield is an incredibly strong brave person and she gets what she wants and what she wants in this case is to be the zoomer of the household

I don't suppose there's really much more to say about the room, so... guess that's a wrap for this one

#full house au #stranger things fanfic #stranger things headcanons #current wip #max mayfield #el hopper byers #here have some notes #lumax #<-very briefly referenced but i love them

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creativepawsworld · 1 year

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Silence - Chapter 12

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Summary = The police are after Thomas Shelby. Ana takes John's suit to his house, the pair having another meaningful conversation.

Warnings = Language, Gang Activity, Guns, Mentions of Sex, Anger issues

Word Count = 3268

Note = Thank you all so much for the comment's reactions and reblogs, it really makes my day that you love this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

For the first time since breaking my foot, I managed to fall and stay asleep last night and it was a good sleep, so amazingly good. I woke up feeling refreshed, ready for the day instead of the usual groggy and irritable version of myself, I had been experiencing lately.

There was no sign of James when I got up. He probably went straight to work after staying at Martha’s. It wasn’t unusual for him to stay over at her place, it was unusual that he didn’t call in to say hello though as he passed through here to get to work.

I walked down in the living room, smiling at the discarded white shirt just tossed onto the floor. A stark reminder that last night did in fact happen. Picking up the clothing and throwing it back into the clean laundry pile I made myself some breakfast before heading next door.

Being the only one in the shop meant that everything fell on my shoulders. Not only did I have to do the administration side to the shop, the inventory, general upkeep but I also had to deal with any clients that came through the door needing something altered or fix. It all rested on me for the first time.

Pushing some loose hair out of my face I looked up at the sound of the door opening. Inwardly rolling my eyes praying the people of Small Heath would just go away. I had been on my foot most of the day, my underarms were red and aching from the fiction caused by the wooden crutches. I didn’t know how much more I could take.

“Everything alright in here Ana?” James’s voice laughed looking around the store. I had things everywhere. Literally everywhere. Random swatches of material were laid over the front desk and my sewing machine, samples of the materials we had in store for people to choose from. I had papers, laying in all directions with measurements, dates and names written on them. I was working in chaos.

“Thank God you are here. Close the door, lock it and keep everyone out” I sigh throwing myself back into the god-awful wooden chair. I was absolutely exhausted. First time having full control of the tailor shop and I managed to do it on a broken foot, it would be a piece of cake in the future with two feet.

“It’s after 5pm we are closed anyway” James laughed shaking his head. He started grabbing the random swatches on fabric putting them into the swatch's basket. “Busy day?” He asked walking around tidying up after me.

“It was the worst day ever. People needing trousers and dresses mended, some needed them altered within an hour. Others wanted to request a new outfit for a family wedding in five days.”

“You know you didn’t have to alter anything right then and there, right?” James asked, putting the work baskets in the far-right corner.

I smiled thinking back to the days when James worked here. We never got anything done, it was so bad, our parents had to separate us. My father taking James under his wing, my mother, me. All too soon though my brother wanted independence. He wanted away from the shop and away from our parents. It was then he got himself mixed up in gambling and the Shelby brothers.

“I know but I just, didn’t want to let anyone down” I sighed rubbing feeling back into my fingers. I lost count how many times I had stuck myself with the needle trying to hurry things along.

“Ana, that’s fine when you are at yourself, not when you have one foot” James scolded handing me the pieces of paper with scribbles on it. “What does half of this even say? That is not how father writes out a measurement sheet” He laughed shaking his head at me.

“It’s how I write it. Easier and saves time” I chuckled snapping the sheets from him using the desk to tap the loose pages together and placing them on my desk.

“If you say so” James shrugged walking around the shop, stopping when he came to a suit. “This is a fine suit Ana, Shelby not been around to collect it yet?” He asked lifting the pant leg and inspecting it.

“Nope, God only knows why. It’s not like the Shelby’s to be late” I sigh with a smile. My mind drifting to my favourite Shelby brother, nibbling on my bottom lip.

“Well with everything going on. I’d say they have their hands full” James nodded leaving the suit alone and walking over to me. “You best hope he comes tonight; father is coming home, and you know he won’t be happy with the suit still here”

“I thought they were coming home tomorrow night?”

“No it’s definitely tonight. Martha is away to some show with a few friends from work. I remember the date clearly as I was going to the Garrison with a few mates”

“Come on” I sighed rubbing my temples with my fingers before standing to my feet, grabbing a nearby empty basket. “Help me”

“Help you what?” James asked confused at my sudden panic like state.

“Grab that dress and put it in the basket with the suit.”

“What are you going to do? Deliver it?” He asked with a laugh but seeing me nod my head, his face fell. “How exactly are you going to carry a basket and two crutches without falling flat on your face Ana, be realistic.”

“I’m not. You’re gonna carry the basket”

“Hell no. I’m not going near the Shelby house are you mad? What if Arthur is there?”

“What if he isn't?” I asked, eyebrows raised. “Please James. Father entrusted me with the running of the shop, I don’t want him coming home and thinking I can’t handle it alone.”

“I’m sure he won’t…”

“James, it’s father. Come on I help you place a stupid bet you can help me deliver a suit” I brought up the incident from a few weeks back when he asked me to go to the betting shop for him. Bringing me into the life of the Shelby’s albeit unintentionally.

“I hate you”

“You love me.” I grin, balancing as best I could while putting my coat on. Taking the crutches once more and hobbling out into the street. “I can’t wait to be free of these”

“Should not of kicked a wall over a Shelby.” James growled dragging his feet behind me.

“Shut up” I tell him with a glare of my own, urging him to hurry up.

Before we even got near the shop James told me that if saw Arthur he would be gone, suit in hand or not. Rolling my eyes at my cowardly elder brother, the streetlights came on, the dark night started to take over. Hopping over the puddles in the street, I noticed a few lights were light in the main house, the betting shop door was no doubt locked now meaning Polly should be at home.

Knocking on the door, I waited for someone to answer the door, my brother was looking over his shoulder every two minutes in case a Shelby brother snuck up on us. I was about to tell him to stop fidgeting when the front door opened, the light shining on both my brother and I. Polly had a smile on her once her eyes landed on me.

“Ana dear, I was thinking just about you.” She grinned, her eyes glancing over to my brother who stood still, a glare on his face as he held the basket in one hand. The other hand casually in his pocket. “James” Polly spoke plainly at him.

“Mrs Gray” James returned, no emotion in his voice.

“Hi Polly, I have John’s suit he was supposed to collect yesterday. I wanted it out of the shop before my father returned.”

“From London, yes Tommy said you had the run of things”

“He did?” I asked with a smile. A blush appearing on my cheeks at the thought of Thomas talking to his family about me.

“Mmm” Polly nodded with a smile of her. Clearly his throat my brother made his presence known, holding the basket up. “Is that the suit then?”

“Indeed” James nodded handing the basket over to Polly. “I’ll see you at home later?” He asked me backing away from the Shelby home towards what he considered safety, even though Arthur was more than likely at the bar now that Thomas brought it for him.

“Yeah” I shouted my shoulder at him, watching him walk backwards before turning at my answer, disappearing around the corner.

“You must be freezing, come in” Polly spoke once my brother gone, like myself she was watching him leave. Carefully making my way into her home she ushered me into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for me and putting on the tea. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately; things have not been easy”

“I heard Ada had her baby. Congratulations”

“Yes, shame his father was taken from her. Haven’t seen her since the birth. Held up in a basement, not good for her or the baby” Polly groaned, shaking her head at the predicament. “Things only got worse when the boys pathetic excuse of a father turned up. Arthur and Tommy have been at one another’s throats.”

“I can come back at a different time Polly. Clearly you have a lot going on”

“No, no you are fine dear. A breath of fresh air in my world of madness.” She smiles, taking the teapot into her hands and pouring the hot liquid into my awaiting cup.

“While I was waiting on John, I finished your dress” I tell her taking a sip of the tea, ensuring I didn’t burn myself on the liquid.

“You did?” She asked, moving John’s suit of the way, hanging it on the door admiring it. “That would have been a nice suit for his wedding, shame he didn’t have it in time” She nodded admiring the work before taking the dress from the basket, holding it up to inspect it. “Ana…” She gasped

“If there is anything you don’t like I can remove it or add to it no problem” I tell her unsure if the gasp was good or bad.

“It's perfect. Oh, Ana you talented little thing” She breathed excitedly his hands running along the lace material at the hips. It was a show stopping piece, to really bring attention to one of the more prominent features of a woman. “Thank you”

“Polly, Polly the police are after our Tommy. They want to take him away” The youngest Shelby brother ran into the room breaking the moment. I felt my eyes widened at his words, what had he done now?

“What? Where is he Finn?” Polly rushed towards the younger brother, dress still in hand as she held his shoulder.

“The barmaid took him away with her. The one Arthur says makes Tommy soft” He shrugged nonchalantly, he was too young to understand what his words had meant, it hadn’t made them hurt any less though.

“Where did they go Finn?”

“I don’t know, her place I think.” The younger brother shrugged, his eyes wondering to me “Hey it’s you. I remember you. What happened your foot? Tommy wouldn’t tell me the other day.”

“Finn, go to your room.” Polly instructed, a worried looked on her face. She was standing, a hand over her mouth, her other holding the dress and ushering the boy out of the room. “Stupid boy, stupid, stupid boy”

A million thoughts ran through my head as the pieces started falling into place for Polly. The only thing I could focus on was he was with that pretty little barmaid. Just him and her, alone in her home. I swallowed back some sick, needing to get out of this house, I got up attracting Polly’s attention.

“Where are you going?”

“Home” I answered her sharply. The stupid tears I swore I’d never cry threatening to spill. How many more times was I going to allow a man like Thomas Shelby make a complete and utter fool out of me before I realised, I needed to move on, like Martha and Polly said.

“Why are you upset?” She asked once I had my back to her. Immediately she reached forward taking my wrist through the crutch to stop me moving, using it to turn me to look at her. Her hawk like eyes scanning over my face, looking down my body before back up to my face. “You slept with him?”

“No”

“But you allowed him to touch you” She pressed. Hearing the words leave her mouth had the tears falling freely from my eyes, I felt so dirty. So stupid. “Oh, my dear, Ana”

“Why is he doing this Polly?”

“He is a man; they only think with their cocks” Polly almost growled holding me against her chest. “I warned him. I told him not to lead you on, but he doesn’t listen. Stupid, stupid boy”

“I think I’m the stupid one”

“No Ana, no you’re not. He is an idiot for not seeing what he hasn’t in front of him”

“I thought he liked me. I was ready to give, you know 'it' to him last night, but he stopped me” I tell her, my voice muffled in her shoulder. “He’s such a pig”

“He is” Polly whispered in my ear before pulling back slightly. “Wait he stopped you from having sex with him?” She asked confused. I simply nodded my head at her question, Polly couldn’t help the look of surprise on her face.

Shaking whatever was going through her mind off, she held me at arm's length, hands on my shoulders, gripping them tightly. “You promise me now, you are done with him. He is not good for you Ana, sweet girl like you deserves a man who would give her the world”

"I have no doubt it is him, Ana. You bring out a side of him that only existed before the war, I thought that part of him died in France”

“So, there is still a chance?”

“No” She answered sharply, conflicting her words. “There is no doubt in my mind Thomas would give you the world. But you are too pure for this world, his world.”

“I can be who Thomas wants me to be”

“You most certainly will not. You do not change yourself for a man Ana, don’t do that to yourself” She scolded holding my face in her hand gently yet firmly. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes”

“Good girl”

“Polly the guns are gone, Campbell has them, there after Tom…” A loud booming voice yelled; it was so loud I was surprised the house didn’t shake due to the volume. “Hello dear…” Arthur stopped himself, seeing me in his aunts' arms. John trailing after him.

“John, take Ana home. We have things to discuss when you get back” Polly directed to the younger of the two men. I expected the man to refuse or kick up a fuss, but he didn’t. He simply walked forward, extending a gentle hand forward. “I’ll will call around tomorrow love, before lunch”

“Okay, goodbye” I called allowing John Shelby to escort me from the home and into the cold night once again. The atmosphere was different than it was when I first left for the house, the police whistles were blowing all over, along with shouts as they marched through the streets looking for Thomas Shelby

“You alright?” John asked after a moment

“Yeah, fell for your stupid brother again like a foolish idiot” I tried to laugh off, but it was too soon. “Congratulations on your wedding” I tell him changing the subject. Ever since our chat at the bar I started to feel safe around John, he was nice. Different than his brothers.

“Thanks. My stupid brother didn’t give me much of a choice. Thankfully she isn’t ugly, I can live with that”

“That’s good?” I questioned unsure how to respond to his reply, my response caused him to laugh.

“It is, believe me I have some standards.” He nodded, nudging me softly, a smile on his face. “I was the only sane one available left to marry anyway, Arthur is out of his fucking mind and Tommy is in love so, wouldn’t have been right for him to marry”

“Wouldn’t you have preferred to marry for love?”

“I did marry for love, but she died. I just wanted to marry for convenience for the kids. I’ll grow to love her” He answered plainly. The marriage really was a business deal, one that benefitted both sides.

“I’m so sorry John" I sigh feeling terrible, the man was the same age as me and he had already lost so much. "I know you said you feel like you have a choice when it comes to your family, but it doesn’t seem like you do sometimes”

“I know it looks that why sometimes, but it's not. I am okay with marrying Esme. As for my brothers, I think they should marry for love at least once. So, I had to give me brothers a chance.” He laughed as we reached the door to my home. “Polly is right about one thing, you're pure Ana but you shouldn't stay away. Your what our Tom needs, something to ground him. She just doesn't see it yet"

“Finn says it the barmaid that has his attention, has him going soft.”

“That’s our Arthurs. He doesn’t know much about you, so course he thinks it’s the barmaid that has my brother soft. If he knew about you, he'd know it was you.”

“John, I don’t…I can’t do this. I can’t be waiting around wondering what Thomas has done and whether or not he will be coming home to me. Maybe Polly is right, maybe I should stay away.”

“Are you giving up on my brother?”

“Can’t give up on something you never had”

“Oh, you have him Ana, you just don’t see it. Idiots the both of you” John replied shaking his head walking towards the front door “Thanks for the suit by the way.”

“You’re welcome” I replied waiting for him to leave before breaking down again, my heart breaking. I limped up to my room, a surge of angry pulsating through my veins as I used my crutch to knock things off the top of my drawers. Screaming in frustration as I hit the books and broken porcelain repeatedly with the crutch.

“Ana” A voice yelled but I didn’t care to stop “ANA” the voice got louder walking up behind me catching me as I threw the crutches across the room. The person ‘sshing’ me as they wrapped around me tightly squeezing me, bringing up both to the ground.

“I hate him” I yelled my hands smacking at their hands as they held tightly onto me.

“It’s gonna be okay, it’s gonna be okay” James continued to repeat in my ear, rocking me backwards and forwards until I calmed down.

“I hate him, I hate him” I repeated, my breathing slowly returning to normal.

“I know, I hate him to”

“I really hate him” I whispered twisting myself, so I was snuggled tight into his chest, his heart beating erratically in his chest. “I hate that he made me love him. Why, why did I have to fall in love with him?”

“I don’t know Ana; I wish I knew”

Taglist

@shelbyteller @seleneshelby @forgottenpeakywriter @babayaga67 @sweetmilkshakeluminary

#tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #originalcharacter #peaky fucking blinders #peakyblinders #thomas shelby fanfic

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sumu-samu · 11 months

Text

(Broken) Trust

This was something I thought up from two comments on Geordi’s episode Your Boyfriend Finally Draws The Line. One said something about Cutie having a panic attack after Geordi left and another kinda piggybacked off that with saying how even if Cutie got the help, and Geordi forgave them that they would never forgive themselves and live in constant fear they would hurt him again. So… angst.

Italics is things playing in Cuties head and the bold italics is what they were thinking in the moment of the fight

CW: stereotypical/fictional display of a panic attack, argument, disassociation, mental distress, and severe angst. (Lmk if I missed anything)

multiple chapters

master list | part 2

Why are you like this

Of course I’m mad. Fuck you-

I’m asking you for 20 or 30 minutes. Why is that a problem?

That is not fair to me. Don’t say that.

Why are you like this

Do you know how hurtful it is

Fuck you-

Cutie just stood there, all of Geordi’s words swirling around in their head.

Sometimes I just want some space for myself

Don’t… DON’T

Why can’t my words ever be enough for you

Geordi was right, all they did was push and push and push. They were being so fucking toxic.

Giving me space is not some gift you’re granting me. It’s… it’s a right that you’re respecting.

Don’t guilt me for asking for it

That is not fair to me

Don’t give it conditionally

You’re not really giving it at all

Subconsciously they knew that it would come to this, but they were to blind to see that the way they acted was bringing this end closer and sooner.

It’s not easy for me to just not care

My feelings aren’t just some problem you can solve

Even if that would be convenient for you.

They think everything’s about them

Selfish, that’s what they were. They were too insecure to take Geordi’s feelings into account. They were too obsessed with what others were thinking about themselves to care that Geordi needed space.

It’s like you don’t even hear me

Because I’m tired. And you don’t seem to have much to say anyway.

Are we too different

They don’t get it, they don’t get me

I have drawn a line, and they keep crossing it

Maybe trying isn’t enough

It wasn’t, trying wasn’t enough. Because regardless of how hard they tried it always ended up the same.

I’m upset. But that doesn’t mean I want you gone.

I’m not mad, just tired

I want them in my life

Did he? Did he still want them in his life? After all they had done.

They think back to the talk they had just had before he walked out.

Is the why really going to make a difference? I already know why you did it. The same reason you always do *he’s going to leave* because the thought of not knowing what someone thinks all the time pushes you to this place where you just- *loud, loud, mad. He’s mad. He should be. You fucked up*

It was everything they were scared of but they couldn’t do that to Geordi. They couldn’t lie, they couldn’t hide it from him. They loved him. He understood how hard it was to be honest. Of course he did, he was Geordi, the best thing to ever have happened to them.

Honesty after the fact… and then apology… aren’t going to be enough for me.. anymore *way to go dumbass. He’s gone, he hates you. He should. What’s wrong with you* because… because apologies are just words…. Words you keep on saying.

He was right. The amount of times they said sorry, you coulda filled a whole pool with it.

I lost three years of myself, and my health, and my happiness to that. And I’m not gonna do that again *happiness, you don’t make him happy. Miserable, he’s miserable. How could you?*

They never wanted to take his happiness away. To be compared to his ex. An ex they didn’t know much about but they knew was a piece of shit.

I need to go. I’ll text you when I get there. Goodbye.

And just like that, he walked out. And they were left there, alone, in silence, so so so much silence. They could feel their heart begin to speed up. Faster and faster, it felt like it would beat straight out of their chest. Their lungs moved with their heart, expanding and contracting faster and faster, their chest burned. They were already crying before Geordi walked out. Their legs gave out, Cutie fell to the ground right there in the kitchen. Chest heaving, mind racing, face flooded with salty tears. They began to shake, they couldn’t stop it.

“G-G-Geordi” they wheezed. But no matter how hard they tried to call out, Geordi left, he was gone. He wouldn’t even care to come to their side to calm them down.

They tried so hard to think of the next best person. But they couldn’t. All that ran through their head was Geordi and his words.

They were able to find the strength to get their phone out and call the last person they texted.

“Cutie! Hey! Wha-… Cutie?” They could hear the rapid breathing that came from Cutie. “What’s goin’ on? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Home… help… please” they struggled to get it out.

#redactedasmr #redacted headcanons #redacted audio #Geordie #redacted geordi #cutie #redacted angst

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yesireadbooks · 8 months

Text

Writer Questions Tag

This is gonna be loonggg... haha. Thank you @starbuds-and-rosedust for the tag!

Gently tagging: @the-chaotic-writer @holdmyteaplease @enne-uni @ashwithapen and an open tag for you!

1) What motivates you to write?

Ok, this is a very philosophical one. I've always had a lot of stories but never the right audience to tell them. So, I began to write. This was an on and off thing going on for a while and was basically a thing I did during holidays. But, now that school is a bit easier and the work load lighter, I can start telling my stories. So, whilst the need to tell my stories is one motivation, I also want to write something which would leave an imprint on the reader(s). Something that would either someone finds relatable or opens up someone's perspective.

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

Ooof, so, there is this one opening I'm in love with. Mainly cuz it attacks me haha. This is from Experiment 615.

Word on the streets is that if you see a scientist and a policeman together, you are either the next experiment, or the last one is near you. But no one thought of a story for when five policemen, two scientists and ten soldiers and two army generals arrive at the Chromia State High School. So, here is one.

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

This one undoubtably goes to Hoshito, whom you might already know cuz I rant about her like a lot. She is a toddler, speaks only Japanese and an adopted child following the death of her parents during a car crash (I'm sorry, little one). She is so adorable and sometimes instead of writing, I just keep smiling at my screen.

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

This is a quite hard one; I've never thought about it. But now that I did, I think my favourite part is reading through the second or third draft, which would ideally be the best version of my wip.

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Ouch, this one hurts my self-depreciating personality. I think I am good at conveying emotions via psychiatric reactions. That is becuz I tend to find ways to info dump in my wips and this is the way I info dump Psychiatry. That helps me write some realistic foreshadowing as well as maybe comical hints.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

I love the engagement and encouragement of the community. Because, after my English Teacher, this is the only community that has actually said something good about my writing. Academic and Fictional.

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

I find notepad very very useful in my writing. I use LibreOffice Writer for normal writing but sometimes when I have only sketch ideas, or poems, I first write it in notepad and then, cross edit with multiple tabs open.

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

Ooohh, now I won't bombard you with this, I have @scalmropia for that, but I will rant about the royal attire I made for the Monarch and Princess Admiral.

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

This is something I often tell myself. Take a moment and do something else, like maybe draw an OC or make a map or maybe even do something crazy like writing a national anthem or an army skit. That way, you can help yourself immerse more in the wip(s) while also reducing the pressure. Personally, doing this has made me think up better character dynamics, flow of story and even some new pre/sequel or unrelated wips.

Also, try unrelated short stories and poetry. That helps to stretch and loosen you brain muscles (not literally haha) and in the long run, help with your main writing.

Also, doing something else also might push you for balancing wips and other creatives. It did that to me.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters:

Well, it goes without question that @holdmyteaplease is my biggest supporter while @enne-uni @sanbukk3t @anonymousfoz @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @starbuds-and-rosedust are some of my biggest supporters. Thank you so much y'all, much love and appreciation! Then when I comes to people whose works, I love, I cannot stress this enough, I LOVE ALL OF YOUR (plural) WORKS.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk..!

Clean question set under the cut

1) What motivates you to write?

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters:

#tag game #thank you #writing #writeblr

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