#do you see the kinda poetry they write??
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im currently spiralling down the beautifully devastating hole that is arab poetry, so feed into this obsession by voting on this poll
(the options are too long for me to add so theyre below the cut)
options:
line one:
they asked, "do you love her to death?" i said, "speak her name over my grave and watch how she brings me to life."
line two:
because my love for you is higher than words, i've decided to fall silent.
line three:
and if the devil was to ever see you, he'd kiss your eyes and repent
line four:
if someday the moon calls you by your name don’t be surprised, because every night i tell her about you.
line five:
as if the clay you were made of, was kneaded wirh rose water.
line six:
we met by chance, two arrows in opposite directions, inevitable was the meeting and inevitable was the farewell.
line seven:
make space in your ribs (chest) for me, i would like to reside eternally in my home country.
line eight:
i felt like kissing the swords, because their glimmer reminded me of your smile.
line nine:
there is water in my eyes, and fire in my heart. do you want a drink? or a spark?
line ten:
when i love, i become liquid light
line eleven:
"i love autumn" she told me and since that day i've been falling
line twelve:
i would split open my heart with a knife, place you within and seal my wound, that you might dwell there and never inhabit another
#arab poetry#poems and poetry#poetry#arabic poetry#arabic poems#arabic#arab#prose#love poem#love poems#not my poetry#nizar qabbani#mahmoud darwish#ibn hazm#farouq jwaideh#arab men are so down bad wdym theyre scary#do you see the kinda poetry they write??#theres more i wanted to add but this is all i could fit
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writing pattern game
Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns! (from most recent to least recent, starting from the top)
got tagged in this (ages ago ofc) by both @raylangivins and @tallahasseemp3. y'all flatter me so much considering how incredibly talented you are!! also y'all have no idea how much i love getting asked about my writing so thanks very much :3
1. crater:
It's cold outside, and already dark by the time Alana makes it home. The train was late, so she spent twenty minutes shivering at the station, looking at her phone every thirty seconds, watching the zero amount of messages and notifications pour in.
2. cypress save me:
Space is cold.
He knew this before. He went through an awful lot of training every time they sent him up there, and he’s been on his fair share of spacewalks, too. He never got tired of it once, but it's impossible to forget how cold it was out there.
Space is cold. Kepler’s hands have always been warm.
3. too little, too late:
Kepler is standing in the middle of the hangar bay, keeping his eyes to the floor. Riemann left a couple minutes ago, Young has better things to do, and Jacobi…
Jacobi is right there.
4. breathing in your dust (shoutout to NAMMI!!)(honestly, I'm pretty sure i didn't even write this line):
He hung up. The absolute bastard just dropped that on him, and hung up.
5. confetti:
Jacobi is in the middle of making dinner when it becomes too much.
He’s cutting carrots for his stupid fucking soup. It’s hot next to the stove, so there’s a bit of sweat glistening on his forehead, and he doesn’t turn around when he says, “Will you just leave me alone.”
Kepler doesn’t leave.
6. hang on past the last exit:
“Those are going to kill you.”
It’s cold in the room. The window has been open for the last twenty minutes, and Kepler is on his second cigarette.
7. whumptober prompts:
Kepler looks pathetic. His suit is crumpled and soaked, his hair is sticking to his face and the ends of his once-white sleeves are red with blood.
He looks at Maxwell without speaking. Determined to commit this look to memory and never forget, Maxwell looks back.
8. did you think it would be like this:
Maxwell doesn’t notice Kepler in the door for fifteen minutes. She doesn’t see why he doesn’t announce his presence right away - if he wants something, what’s stopping him from walking over to her desk and asking for it? - but she figures he has a point to make.
A point Maxwell will ignore, because she doesn’t need it right now.
9. wasteland, baby:
He finds her on the bridge.
10: a mirage in sickness and health:
For as long as she can think back, Maxwell has always spent her time convincing people.
She could make them think all kinds of things, but the only thing she ever really cared about was getting them to realise she was worth it.
That she shouldn’t be brushed aside, that she had too much to say to wait her turn to speak.
tagging @imperial-evolution, @agentmika, @dansnotavampire, @haunthouse, aaaaaand @bananawanis
#i haven't written any fic since may so not much has happened on this front#(soooo much poetry writing though. y'all let me know if you know a good platform to share)#but WAH i'm still really proud of all of these. i do definitely see a pattern but idk what i would call it#maybe a kinda in media res inner monologue LMAO. i love writing opening scenes i'm not sure i've ever struggled with one#closing scenes though.... don't talk to me#writing#babbling#tag memes
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feeling crazy might post a poem i wrote on nye 2 years ago that is still somehow better than anything i've written recently or ever
#been trying to write new poetry but getting so frustrated#i'm at that kinda bump in skill level where you know what you're doing wrong but don't know how to fix it yet#also might delete my old poetry that sucks so bad bc every time i see it i want to explode#p
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posting here bc i feel like i always reblog other people’s takes on main then make my own post about the discussion LOL but the post about writing dog cannibalism etc notifs like…..my only thing I’d say is I’d like to see the ideas of these motifs expanded ie i think there was a post about how cannibalism is a great metaphor for devotion but that’s not the only way you can utilise cannibalism for a message. and sometimes these metaphors have a complex history. and without these expansive discussions/explorations these ideas that are so rich and complex can risk being reduced to buzzwords. which i agree and also think at the end of the day if someone wants to write the same cannibalism and dog poem over and over who caressss like why would i stop them? especially if it’s just for their own expression like why would I decide what expression is worthy of creation and sharing? oh my god idk if its dramatic but literally you are not alive forever why would you stop yourself from creating bc of what others might think? because the idea is cliche?? like idk im probably going to be writing about death and grief for the next ten years at least. i wrote really melodramatic, surface level poetry about my mom when i found out she was literally about to die of cancer can you imagine telling me that i was being too cliche with that? id kill you. anyway i think when an idea or metaphor gets popular on tumblr it’s good to be nuanced about it bc i do think sometimes ideas get watered down and diluted (hence my encouragement to expand your reading and ideas of say, cannibalism as metaphor) but at the end of the day if someone is personally moved by it why do i care. they’re alive they can do what they want
#when it comes to criticism about how they approach that expression it’s like. case by case basis#I think the whole Christian trauma thing is a good example of that bc some people really do aestheticise it in a way i think is harmful to#do with what is a real life institution that hurts so many people. but again you can’t make sweeping statements I think you have to take#that kinda thing story by story poem by poem#I can’t take the very generalised criticism seriously though because like that’s an entire complex idea. and every execution of it will have#a difffent context#like if the criticism of these ideas comes from wanting to be above what’s popular on tumblr then I’m not listening lmfao#im not really into the dog stuff but a lot of people i know and admire are. i like to see them be moved creatively!!!#also I don’t like the whole just make sure it’s well executed and good like okay and who decides that#also let people write shitty poetry about Christianity if it helps them
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its so weird to read some of my old fics (do NOT do it but i'm just being hypothetical rn) and reading it. like who even was this person?? i completely was in a haze back in 2020. i literally was posting 3 chapters a day. A DAY. what in the WORLD was that shit.
anyway i remembered some STUPID sappy shit and i didnt remember if i'd put it into a fic or not BUT I FOUND IT.
She and Hope had been dating in secret for months anyway, and any attempt to go talk to Ryan only filed her disposition of displeasure upon knowing that she couldn’t tell anyone, Molly especially, it destroyed herself mentally. They couldn’t really go anywhere near the school, always having to lie to everyone about having projects together when Molly wasn’t around them. It’d consisted with 9 PM - 2 AM intervals of being able to actually see each other. Hope would sneak through her small bedroom window with a portable record player and whatever she had gotten from the vintage record store downtown, and Amy would always fall asleep around eleven because of her internal clock. She would always wake up to find a single sticky note stuck on the edge of her desk whenever she woke up to her alarm the next morning. One of them, Amy still had tucked inside of her phone case, a heavily detailed human heart, with blue and red ink sketched onto a neon pink sticky note, there was a caption that headed the small paper reading the phrase over every now and again makes her almost melt every time. “You have my heart.”
yeah idk why the fuck but i thought of this fucking idea again today and i was like "omg did i ever put that heart note thing in a fic???" yeah you fucking did.
all that to say ME AND WHO???? imagine. thats so fucking.... RAHHHH.
#NOT TOH FANFIC#see this is why i write fanfic. to enact some gay ass shit like this.#the fucking STICKY NOTE WITH A DRAWING OF A HUMAN HEART AND SAYING “YOU HAVE MY HEART” I AM ON THE FLOOR.#*sighs* sucks i cant reuse it on lumity though.#my friend making me realize i actually have rizz but am just too much of a disaster to actually understand cues with people#its a MESS. im just all over the place. i literally ranted to THE SAME FRIEND yesterday (or the day before??) abt some girl jesus.#anyway i remember writing A LOT OF POETRY back in hs about this one girl and then the same girl i got to talk to--#--my first actual conversation with her i blurted out that i wanted to shave my head. she was like.... oooooo god i was A MESS#still slid into her school dms during covid and was like “haha guess what i actually mf did???” anyway all that to say underlying dysphoria#they're nonbinary now too and i kinda ghosted them like a complete idiot :(. its been two years or so but i still think of them... a lot...#actually i have more lore about this person and its like istg they actually really liked me but i could not pick it up.#we had such SUCH good chemistry and vibes. n they were really pretty. ughhhhhh.#anyway yeah idk crushes are weird sometimes. the universe knows how unstoppable id be with a partner#i feel like i was the reason they were able to find themself and their identity because when we were talking i always encouraged them#and told them to do what felt right. im glad they did. i think sometimes that brings me peace. like i served a purpose.#STILL showed them toh. STILL SHOWED THEM TOH.#we were talking about amity LMAO “this green haired girl seems interesting” SHE SO WAS.#...yeah i wish i could text them but i kinda probably fucked it up.#shitposting shit#idk what this post is i just wanted to talk about this dumb sticky note thing because im rotating it in my brain and remembering how#mentally ill i was back in 2020#talking into the void yk how it isssss
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a muse who has silenced all other thoughts
my dove, you have tied my heart into knots
the love of christ is not as strong as this
but just as he, i would die so gladly
if i could just feel your kiss upon me
such short time, such radiant, loving bliss
you soared in so unexpectedly sweet
rescuing me, you made my heart complete
your touch so soft i could never dismiss
you are a morning glow, gentle and warm
i orbit you, bright sun, stunning art form
your sapphire eyes, your sugared rose lips
they make me believe the divine exists
in you i find sanctity, life now shifts
#poetry#kinda ig idk?#nyway someone out here got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair and doing all of that sooooooooo#i'm out here writing not-very-good sonnets#you ever down so bad for someone they're suddenly all you can think about? yeah me neither haha totally don't know what that's like#hahahahhahahahahahah#in my lover era#me just casually posting my love letters for all to see lmao#wlw poetry
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one thing about me is, i'll always always always value creativity and experimental ideas and stories and new structure-breaking narratives above established "commonly valued" creations, even if the creative idea's execution is less than ideal, even if the established story is "perfect and spotless". Like, i literally dont care, unconventional and paculiar and unexpected works of art are infinitely more valuable to me whether in subpar execution state or in perfect structure. If you did it differently and did it your way your creation will always be more important to me than any predictable and "proper" narrative made in complete and utter obedience of well reinforced explicit and implicit rules. "this is very well made in all the technicalities look at all these clean details—" catch me give a fuck. It's cliche, repetitive, it's boring, i dont care. We live in a time where obedience of known metrics seemingly ranks higher than any form of outside-the-box creativity and i'm done with it. Say something new, say something personal, say something earnest and paculiar and weird or i'm out of this theater.
#in semi continuous of the same notes; if you look up in the dictionary the definition of madness is me asking for feedback on my writing#from people who are knee deep in traditional structures and have not tried a single new imagery in their entire life#like babygirl they wont love you!!!! by definition they're looking at you from a place of dismay because you're going#against their ingrained value; you're undermining the predictable known forms they love so dearly!!!!#there's no way someone like that can offer any kind of coherent and geniune feedback on your work because –hear me out–#THEY DONT FUCKING VALUE WHAT YOU DO#like their baseline attitude is ''i couldn't care less if what you created didn't exist it's irrelevant to me'' THAT'S NOT A PERSON#WHO'S GONNA HELP YOU HONE YOUR CRAFT THEY DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR CRAFT#''i dont like poetry but–'' ''i dont write in this style but–'' ''i dont read these kinda stuff but–'' the conversation is over.#there's no buts. by the principle of being outside the framework you do not have the level of appreciation expertise and nuance it takes#to offer valuable and applicable feedback and your take may be fun but it's irrelevant ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also another form of the barely disguised disdain is ''your creation will only be valuable if it's executed to utter perfection'' and no.#everyday i wake up and see mediocre people#celebrating utterly bland and boring mediocre writing like it's the last day of their fucking lives.#i'll not be held to standards of ''perfect performance'' just because you dont have the balls#to say that you dont enjoy and have no appreciation for creativity and experimental efforts#''it needs to be better'' is just a polite way of saying#''i dont love this but i feel bad about it so i'll trick you and myself into thinking i'll love it if it's done faultless''#there's no stage in which an effort in creativity will be faultless to you because the fault#to you#IS the creativity and deviation from the norms.#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#anyway good morning in this house we have absolutely zero value for bland cliche stereotypical generic things 🌸✨️#on art#on writing
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i am a helpless child reaching upwards
the adults feign ignorance.
“up,” i say. “i need up!”
still they pretend as if they don’t hear.
is my voice not loud enough? i wonder. why don’t they hear me? why aren’t they helping me?
when a child is so clearly desperately begging for what they need, why do adults still ignore it?
as you grow up they seem to look the other way when you trip more often. soon enough you fall, your body a limp pile of limbs, your body bleeding from the inside out, you cannot pull yourself up… and there are no hands trying to keep the blood from spilling but your own.
you drown in that blood—your blood.
and they simply watch.
#when someone so clearly needs help you help them#don’t let them fall into a hole so deep that no one sees them struggling to get out#help them out of that hole#do better for them#they need you#and when they need you you be there no questions asked.#this is kinda emo i’m sorry i’ll probably private it ina minute i know no one wants to hear this shit#poetry#dysfunctional family#mommy issues#daddy issues#mentally unwell#mentally unstable#random thoughts#author#writer#writing
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#lina talks#nas#a little bit of bragging (?) to follow so scroll past perhaps? I just wanted to say it somewhere#............................................................................................................................................#reading a new fic from my favorite ao3 author set in my favorite series by him#and realized that his style has very very much influenced mine - at least what it currently is#and from the moment I finished reading the first story in the series I kinda knew I wanted to write like him#bc the way he writes is so beautiful and it flows just like poetry#but didn't realize the extent of it I guess until now when I'm reading his style againm#just a week or so after I heavily edited my writing workshop submissions to turn in as my final project for the class#kinda just hit me that I can see the influences he had on my writing and that I can also see the improvement I've made in my own style#which is nice :) bc I often do feel frustrated when I can't word things properly or when something sounds weird but I can't figure out why#but that's also a sign of improvement I think#idk I've learned a lot unconsciously and consciously about writing over the past few years and it's just nice to see#thank you for coming to my ted talk skndjgh
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My teachers don't know I'm making all my projects about Enjolras
#my art project is a fucking barricade#my classmate who sits next to me is probably very tired of my shit#you guys had to watch me run to my history teacher like two weeks ago to lemme do france for our project on liberal revs#me asking him “oh hey so how about you let me analise a whole volum on les mis so i can tell you about this scene”#and he went like “oh sure go crazy lil guy”#thankyou xavi#also#my art teacher is so freaking cool#me writing him my essay (two pages long it's really his fault he hasn't put a limit)#(I'm happy he didn't)#and he goes “what about that?” making me feel like I'm in fucking philosophy so now he's got a three pages essay#and#he sent me a message#“thanks for making my work reach moments of excelence like this” BRO THANK YOU FOR BEING THE BEST TEACHER EVER???#I WAS CRYING YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND#also yes#the project was a barricade bwcause it was a subjective portrait you see#and i applied a little of philosophy we've done to get all in place and a bit of poetry and a bit of my humanself so#shit happened#me mentioning grantaire's monologue on a school project wasn't on my bingo list of this year#me like#yeah so this guy puts his easel in like a cross AND he puts this other guy's vest on it like he's everything#and so yeah#i did that too on my barricade too#i was kinda stressed with the art part#and I'm not sure i like how it turned out#however the fucking essay EHEHEH
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#Stunted growth#writing#poetry#2021#august 2021#august 27 2021#the first Good Poem i ever wrote!#this was when I actually got into writing poetry. Id written some before but they were barely just peoms and all sucked!!#anyways this is about the fear that quarantine fucked me up forever. mainly socially#i was also scared my generally life decisions were gonna fuck me up#like i want to work in animation when im an adult but thats not very promising career so im afraid im destined to be a failure…#anyways i just uploaded a bunch of old stuff in reverse order so uh sorry about that#i try to make the navigation if this blog more bearable through tagging dates with three tags#but honestly the whole thing has a shit set up… sorry haha. Im bad at this#im very picky choosey and spontaneous with what i want to upload and when so it ends up wonky and inconsistent#i cringe at my old stuff (and plenty of my present stuff too)#but i still want to eventually upload most of my stuff even if i hate most of it… but first i have to work up the nerves to do that#and sometimes i dont upload new stuff because i want to have old stuff uploaded with more new stuff uploaded more recently#so when people click on my blog they wont see all my old sucky stuff first#but whatever. If you cant handle me at my 2021 you dont deserve me at my 2024‼️💥💯🔥💪#guess you just have to dig through shit to get gold. Sorry bud haha#okay visibility tags now…#quarantine#covid#covid 19#pandemic#school#<- its KINDA mentioned. A little bit. And it IS a focal point of the main gist of this so….#isolation#social anxiety
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Dead serious prompt cuz I never do ship prompts.
Let's give it a shot!
Danny transfers to Damian's highschool, specifically he transfers into Damian's class. Damian's immediately smitten with him, head over heels love at first sight. Maybe Danny's done some animal rights protests and fundraisers with Sam? Maybe Danny just has good vibes.
Damian has no clue what to do with this feeling. He's emotionally constipated so Danny's first day ends with him getting a note in fancy lettering that reads
"Your eyes are like sapphires."
It's only one sentence (I can't write good poetry) But there's a beautiful Drawing of him below the writing. Danny smiles and puts this in his school binder. Damian sees this as an absolute win.
If we go with the Idea that Damian has the reputation of being cold and calculated it makes this prompt cuter.
Just Damian being a fully trained assassin and part-time vigilante but the moment Danny walks in he's googling
"How do you talk to cute boys?"
"What is a crush?"
" How to romance a guy as a guy?"
Just imagine being one of Damian's classmates, oh my God they must be so confused. The kid who usually talks like a dictionary and is as cold as block of ice is suddenly leaving romantic poetry in the transfer student's locker?!? He actively participates in class activities to talk with him? What kind of witchcraft is this??
Danny is doesn't know who his secret admirer is, but he kinda hopes it's Damian.
#deadserious#dc x dp#dpxdc#dp x dc prompt#Conflicted between having Damian pull the “get out of my school” first crush bit#or just having him be awkwardly romantic#This might be the only ship prompt I post
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Hello, Mr. Neil! If it is no imposition, I'd appreciate your thoughts or advice. No hard feelings if it is, I pinky promise.
I write and, ideally, would love to do so for a living. The trouble is, I'm highkey autistic (to an often debilitating extent) and doubt my ability to write characters that'll appeal to the overwhelming majority of people. Or who, like, allegedly "normal" people will be able to see themselves in. Essentially, the fundamentally human part of writing is what's messing with me. A lot of this is, frankly, due to trauma. Communicative-based trauma, which is common in autistic people, especially late-diagnosed autists (like me.)
Most of the time, it feels/seems like I have to convince people that I'm human, at all, before they'll take what I feel/think/say/write as anything more than some half-comprehensible oddity. Idk. I'm confident when writing just for myself, but just the idea of adding an audience into this all makes me queasy and anxious. I feel like hiding. But I'd rather not become an Emily Dickinson, y'know? That seems worse than not letting people in at all.
As it is, I write poetry and heady erotic scripts, for the most part. There's a series of humanized monster novels percolating in the back of my mind. Kinky scriptwriting is fun and has potential to become an indie kinda job if I play my cards right, which is a helpful incentive. Novels and poetry are what I prefer, but them taking a backseat is probably going to be necessary. It's easy enough to appeal to people in a kinky, sexual context. That's an easier context for others to accept me in, it seems. But otherwise? That's where I faulter and doubt myself.
How do you keep self-doubt, social anxieties and overall fear from clouding your writing? Or from inhibiting the will to write, even?
You do it or you don't. There are a million reasons not to do it and not to keep doing it but you do it anyway.
Just do it, tell your stories, a word at a time, a sentence at a time, a page at a time.
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Hello , can I request barca x teen reader who loves to play prank and is the Clown of the team but is a very good player and Ballon d'or potential
The Fool
Beyond the jester of a girl that taunts her Barcelona teammates with endless pranks is a world class player that shines on the pitch
Barça Femení x teen!reader
masterlist
Warnings: ✖️
A/N: thank you anon for the request! this is kinda messy and a bit short but i think it does the job. im sorry this took so long for me to write, i hope you like it 💝💝
“(Y/N), hijo de puta!” Mapi screams, looking up to see your head sticking out over the top of the shower cubicle, pouring shampoo on her head. For the last 10 minutes, she’s furiously been trying to wash all the shampoo out of her hair, but it just isn’t coming out. Now she realises why.
Mapi grumbles and finally rinses the last of the shampoo out of her hair, cursing you under her breath with the slightest of smiles. You skid out of the locker room, abandoning the shampoo bottle and laughing to yourself in the halls. You can hear Patri’s laughter ringing from the showers as well, and it makes you smile.
Clowning around is your love language… in a way. It’s your form of putting time and energy into something special. To you, laughter is something special, and if you didn’t love your teammates, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to give them something to enjoy.
It’s your natural personality. You’re unserious, always joking around and having fun, and it is only normal for someone your age. As a teenager, all you want to do is have fun while doing what you love most; playing football.
You‘re damn good at both of those things.
El Clásicos are your favourite matchups. Every season, you look forward to it. Since you bleed blaugrana in every shape and form, you feel like it’s your duty to give the Real Madrid back line something to worry about. You want to be the one to sort them out… for the 16th time. Literally.
When you aren’t troubling your teammates with tricks, you’re troubling defenders.
It‘s kinda your thing.
One through ball from Aitana is all it takes. Your legs feel detached from your body, your strikes at the ground uprooting the grass wherever you step.
And the open space ahead is basically beckoning you in to occupy the green void, which you do.
The space beyond is as much of a blessing to you as it is a curse to the likes of Rocio and Andres.
Rocio and Andres should’ve learnt by now that their old school habit of holding you off will never work. You aren’t being stalled, you’re being invited in. The more you threaten them with small feints and sharp movements that make them twitch, the closer they draw you in to the goal until…
That satisfying swish of the net follows the sound of your foot making hard contact with the ball.
Rocio and Andres should’ve learnt by now that their old school habit of holding you off will never work.
You’re good at your position. You take your game seriously. That’s what surprises everyone the most.
Off the field, you’re regarded as ‘el embaucadora’, the trickster. You’re always pulling pranks, making jokes, finding fun in everything or making it yourself.
Even on the field, you’re no less of a trickster, but it’s less of the pranks and more of your deceptive play style and ability to make defenders dance.
When you play, you perform. To you, any pitch lit up by lights is a place in which your playing becomes poetry with the opportunity to engrave itself in the essence of the stadium, becoming your legacy.
The whistle blows, and you’re off again. The ball finds you again and it feels so right at your feet that every moment feels like you’re on autopilot.
And it finds the goal too fast for you to enjoy, because before you know it you’re walking off the pitch feeling uncomfortably sweaty beyond the swell of victory in your heart.
Alexia looks at you from a distance, the hints of a smile visible on her face, because she knows where hypnotising flair like yours gets you.
Somewhere in France, perhaps?
#woso#woso x reader#woso imagines#woso community#woso fanfics#fc barcelona femeni#fcb femení#barca femeni x reader#barca x reader#barca femeni#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas
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How do you get better at writing as a serious hobby when you're someone who only really ever maintained writing through shitty parody fanfiction and overly emotional vent poetry? I have lengthy detailed ideas for a sci-fi style universe and I want to get the idea out of my head but I have no actual assuredness in my own writing ability. I'm also borderline illiterate.
I tried writing a chapter of my idea today and when I re-read it to myself something about it felt kinda flat. It's hard for me to be descriptive about scenery and such because I have trouble visually imagining things in my head. Are there better ways of strengthening something like that?
The best thing about writing is that there is no way to do it and NOT get better at it. It's just like how there is no way you could shoot hoops three times a week for a year and, at the end of it, not be better at shooting hoops.
The thing is, as you get better at writing, you start to see the flaws you couldn't see before. If you took that chapter you wrote today and gave it to yourself a year ago, I bet you wouldn't see the flaws in it then that you see now. What's changed is you've become a better writer, and now are aware of all the things you wish you could do differently. So it's progress - it's frustrating, but it is progress! You went from not seeing the flaws in your work to seeing them - and the next step is learning how to correct them. You do that by reading and writing more, picking up more tips and tricks that you can employ!
All this to say, my advice is to read and write more, and especially read outside of the genres you're interested in. I can always tell when a comic writer has only read comics, because there's a sameness you encounter. But if you're the comic writer who reads all sorts of things, that gives you a wider breadth of experience, and a more unique one too.
My other advice is to not try to do your big idea right away. You have lengthy and detailed ideas for this universe, and you know exactly what you want it to be - and that's daunting. It'll take years to get all of that written in the way you want. So keep playing with it, keep thinking about it, but give yourself permission to do other things first. It's rare that someone's first book is their best book, and the expectorations you're building in your head may be very very hard to meet. But, to bring it back to what I said at the start - there's no way for you to write and NOT get better at it. Write other things, smaller things, bite-sized achievable things, and later on you'll probably find that this big daunting project is no longer quite so daunting - and much more within your grasp.
I hope this helps!
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sam monroe is the type of boyfriend to always keep your favorite strain of weed on him.
sam monroe is the kinda guy to smoke the same cigarettes as you so he always has one for you to bum.
sam monroe is the type of boyfriend to burn cd's for you.
sam monroe is the kind of guy to take you on dates to the skate park and teach you how to skate.
sam monroe likes to keep polaroids of you in his pockets or his wallet. the good ones he keeps in the back so no one sees them but him.
sam monroe is possessive, he'll mark you up constantly so that everyone know that you're his.
getting matching piercings with sam monroe, feels like a dream, he gets his lip pierced and you get your nose done. holds your hand as you're getting it pierced. he helps you take care of it and everything.
sam monroe loves just laying in bed with you, doesn't matter what you're doing as long as you're touching each other.
sam monroe’s favorite thing in the world is when you suck hom off, he loves how innocent you look batting your eyelashes at him.
sam monroe loves having his fingers in your hair, lazily dragging through the locks especially if your head is on his chest. it's one of the times he truly feels alive.
sam monroe who works on a broken down truck that he starts to drive. bunch of band stickers on the tailgate.
sam monroe who comes to your house everytime he fights with his parents.
sam monroe who makes sure to roll pink joints for you, because nothing but the best for his princess.
sam monroe’s favorite pet names for you are princess, baby, and angel.
sam monroe doesn't usually like pet names but there's something about you calling him pretty boy that makes him blush.
sam monroe is the type of boyfriend to cage you in between his arms in a mosh pit to make sure you don't get hurt.
sam monroe lives off of cigarettes, cokes and blunts.
sam monroe’s favorite position is doggy, particularly when he brings your back against him.
sam monroe writes poetry in his free time but if you ask him about it, he'll deny it to his grave.
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