#it's just titles nothing more.. i feel like I'm trying to prove to myself that i can do this but i don't need to prove anything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bm571158 · 4 days ago

Text

Free Now (LN4) Part 16

As much as everything in him wanted to do a runner before Flo could get home, Lando knew he owed her some kind of explanation. He couldn't keep turning up on her doorstep like this, or let whatever this thing was with Lottie go on for any longer without some kind of explanation.

So, as the sun started to go down outside, he sat on her sofa only half watching the tv as he waited for his sister to come home. She'd obviously stuck to her end of the bargain, because his mum was yet to turn up, and if she knew he was there he was almost certain she'd have been there lecturing him for what had happened in Miami. It wasn't like her to hold back.

It was a little after five that the front door finally swung open, Flo stepping inside and taking off her coat, looking at Lando in surprise as she kicked off her shoes. "You're still here." She commented, making her way over to the sofa. "I'm impressed, I would've put a lot of money on you doing a runner while I was gone."

"I told you I wouldn't." He pointed out, although he was aware he'd made that particular promise on more than one occasion and not stuck to it.

"Where's Lottie?" Flo asked, seemingly only just noticing her friend was nowhere to be seen.

"Getting some sleep. She wasn't feeling great." He explained. Truthfully, the two of them had spent most of the day alternating between napping and watching some mind numbing awful reality tv, the pair of them both exhausted even if for different reasons.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look that great either." Flo raised an eyebrow at him.

He had to stop himself from the automatic answer that rolled so easily off the tip of his tongue... I'm fine... how many times had he said that in the last couple of months? It was his default answer to every single time anyone tried to ask him how he was.

"I'm..." he trailed off, looking for another word. His eyes fixed firmly on the floor in front of him to avoid his sisters questioning gaze. "I haven't been sleeping very well." He said slowly. It felt odd to say it out loud, as though telling her the truth was somehow admitting some kind of great weakness. As though he was proving all those people who'd questioned whether he had the mentality to win right.

Flo was quiet for a minute, weighing up how to respond. This was uncharted territory for both of them. "How longs that been going on for?" She asked, although she was fairly sure she knew the answer. There had been a point the previous year, not that long after the summer break, where the title fight had appeared to gather momentum and he'd slowly lost his spark, looking more and more exhausted and stressed with every interview he did.

"I don't even know." He admitted. "I went from laying there awake worrying about the races and getting enough points, to laying there awake beating myself up because I've got nothing but my own fuck ups to blame, then suddenly the off season was over and I'm back to worrying about scoring points again."

"Is this why you've been hiding from all of us?" Flo asked quietly, watching his face as he gave the a sheepish look.

"I didn't want mum and dad to worry." He told her, as though it explained everything.

"You're an idiot sometimes, you do know that?" Flo asked him, shaking her head. "Mum has done nothing but worry about you. Did you really think that hiding from her was going to solve anything?"

"I..." he stopped short of what he'd been about to say. Flo was right, and he didn't say that often. He'd known at the time that hiding wasn't actually going to solve anything, but it had been easier. Easier than having to deal with everyone checking if he was okay and trying to make him feel better.

"You're an idiot?" Flo offered, completing his sentence for him with a quiet laugh.

"I am." Lando agreed, somewhat relieved that it seemed to have broken the serious mood of the conversation that the pair of them had been having.

"And you and Lottie?" Flo asked, raising an eyebrow as him as she shifted on the sofa to her more comfortable.

"What about me and Lottie?" He asked, repeating the question back to her as if he didn't know what he could possibly be referring to. He wondered for a moment if he was blushing as much as he felt he was, because his face felt like it was on fire.

"Oh come on, don't play dumb with me." Flo rolled her eyes at her brother. "I've seen the way you look at her... and also, I'm not being funny but you're here. We both know you didn't leg it back from Ibiza in the middle of the night because you missed me, Lando."

"We're friends." He protested weakly.

"Yeah and I'm the next Queen of England if that's all that's going on between you." Flo retorted sarcastically. "How does what's her face from Miami fit into all this?"

"Huh?" Lando looked at her blankly.

"You know, that girl you were practically having sex with in the middle of the dance floor." She told him. "The one who was apparently with you in Ibiza before you ran away. I've seen the pictures online. How did she feel about you running off in the middle of the night to come and see Lottie? Can't imagine that went down too well."

"She's left me some fairly irate messages." Lando agreed. "I don't... I don't know why I invited her, god I don't even know why I went home with her in Miami to be honest. I was drunk and looking for a distraction, I guess but she's just not Lo-" he stopped himself.

"We both know what you nearly just said." Flo waited to see if he was going to elaborate, but he didn't.

"Shut up." Lando groaned, burying his face in a pillow. This was definitely not a conversation he wanted to be having with his sister.

"For what it's worth, I think she feels the same." Flo told him quietly. "She was upset, when the videos came out of that night in Miami. She never said anything at the time but she went really quiet and it took me ages to work out what I'd said that had upset her."

"She saw?" Lando asked nervously.

"I think the entire world saw." Flo couldn't help but roll her eyes at her brother. "There was absolutely nothing subtle about it. Why did you think McLaren were so incredibly pissed off?"

"Just figured that they were being over dramatic as usual." He shrugged. "Shit."

"Look, I love you Lando... you're my brother..." Flo started slowly, trying to pick and choose her words carefully. "But she's my best friend, she's been through so much... sometimes I look at you two and think god you'd be perfect together... and then I see the way she looks at you and all I can think about is that she's setting herself up to get her heart broken on top of everything else she's been through."

"I'd never do anything to hurt her." Lando offered quickly, and he meant it. The very idea of doing anything that might upset Lottie made him feel sick to the stomach, he was still having hard time with the knowledge that she'd seen the videos of him and Lucia in the club in Miami.

"Not on purpose." Flo sighed. "I know you'd never deliberately hurt her, but you're a mess Lando. At some point you're going to have a good or bad result and all common sense is going to go flying out of the window again. You'll be drunk and you'll say you don't mean it, but Lottie will be the one who ends up getting her heart broken and I really don't think she'd survive that on top of everything else."

"I wouldn't." Lando protested, shaking his head.

"I don't think you can say that. You're a mess, Lando. She's a mess. I'm not sure it's really the best combination." Flo sighed. "Don't get me wrong, she loves having you around I can see it on her face and it's nice to see her smile for a change it's just... I don't know, I don't think she's really accepted that this is her new reality now. She's not going to magically get better and get her life back, and when she does... well, I'm not sure that you're really going to be the best person to help her pick up the pieces."

"Wow." Was all Lando could manage, the word escaping his mouth sarcastically before he could stop it.

"Look, you're both adults." Flo sighed. "At the end of the day, you're going to do what you're going to do, and please don't get me wrong I'd love nothing more than for you both to be happy. God knows you both deserve it. Just be careful, okay?"

Lando relaxed a little at her words, the realisation dawning on him that she wasn't outright telling him to stay away from Lorrie, which was good because he didn't think he would be able to manage that if he tried, but rather reminding him that she was fragile and he needed to be careful.

"Is now a bad time to tell you that I was planning to take Lottie back to Monaco with me tomorrow?" He joked, cringing slightly at the look on Flo's face.

"Are you serious?" She asked him, looking at him in disbelief.

He nodded, chewing nervously on his lip. "She wanted to get away for a few days, it'll be a good break of her and I could use the company."

"How do you actually think you're going to get her there?" Flo asked. "Because she might be making it around the house better on her crutches now but I can tell you she's not going to manage to navigate an airport."

"I've sorted it, we're flying private back to Nice and then my car is at the airport." Lando told her, he'd actually arranged it all earlier while Lottie had been asleep, booking the flight for the following day.

Flo was quiet for a moment, thinking about it. "Take care of her, okay? Don't let her overdo it. She's as bad as you are for just carrying on until she literally can't do anymore. Don't let her push herself too hard, or do anything stupid."

"I won't, I promise." He agreed, silently surprised that Flo had agreed so quickly. He'd been prepared to really have to twist her arm to get her to agree.

"Do me a favour as well, before you go?" Flo asked.

"What?"

"Go and visit mum on the way to the airport." Flo told him. "I haven't told her you're here, but she's really worried about you. Take Lottie with you, tell her you can't stay because you'll miss your flight... whatever you want to do to make yourself feel better, just go and show her that you're okay... or tell her that you're not, just don't leave her wondering and worrying about you."

"Alright." Lando agreed with a yawn, getting up off the sofa and stretching his aching back. "I'm going to go have a shower and see if I can get some more sleep before I do that tomorrow then."

"Alright, good night." Flo agreed. "Oh, and Lando?" She called as he made his way over to the foot of the stairs.

"Yeah?" He stopped, one foot already on the bottom step, and turned back to look at her.

"Don't bother trying to pretend that you're going to sleep in the spare room tonight." She laughed. "You and I both know you're going to go and get into bed with Lottie."

"Shut up." He laughed, feeling himself blush again as he jogged up the stairs.

She was right though, the only place he wanted to be, and apparently the only way he could get any sleep was as with Lottie in his arms. So of course that was where he was headed, he wasn't even going to try and deny it.

#angst with a happy ending #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #romance #fanfic #angst #recovery

12 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 2 years ago

Text

We Ain't Angry at You, Love, You're the Greatest Thing We've Lost - Dream of the Endless Imagine [The Sandman]

Title: We Ain't Angry at You, Love, You're the Greatest Thing We've Lost

Pairing: Morpheus | Dream of the Endless X Dream!Reader

Based On: You're Gonna Go Far

Word Count: 1,638 words

Warning(s): Morpheus being a dick, mention of bullying/mistreatment

Summary: After the events with the Corinthian and the Dream Vortex, many thought that Morpheus may have run out of any remaining kindness and leniency. However, they were gravely mistaken. It simply took a well-intentioned dream to prove it.

Author's Note: I think I've changed this song's story about four times. I'm sorry. Everything just felt repetitive.

STICK SEASON [WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER] - NOAH KAHAN WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

------------------

After Morpheus went missing, I had been consumed by a deep fear that I would never be able to find a sense of purpose for myself.

It wasn't until a few years later that I finally allowed myself to leave the Dreaming behind me. It was terrifying at first. It was still largely unknown to me. I had to adjust and learn. However, once I started to do that, it was as if all of the puzzle pieces snapped into place.

I had never known peace like I did during my time on Earth.

For nearly a century, I had crafted myself a perfect home. I had established relationships and connections. I had become a fixture.

For the first time, there was a purpose for me that did not feel forced. One that did not leave me feeling burnt out or angry. I was able to merely exist and be enough for those around me.

Yes, there were hard times. I didn't age like humans did. There were times when I would need to move in order to avoid them figuring that out, but then I got to find a new web of people to connect myself to.

It was everything to me.

I had thought about what my life would have been like if I hadn't been confined to the Dreaming, but getting to actually experience it was... perfect.

It was a shame that my perfection was so cruelly interrupted.

I had no indication that anything was wrong as I walked into the small place that I had grown to call my own.

Maybe that was my fault. Maybe I hadn't been paying enough attention. Maybe spending my time in this realm had left me blind to the signs of my old one.

That was the only explanation I had for not being prepared to see Morpheus standing in my living room.

I jumped when I saw him. It had been a century. I had been under the impression that he wasn't coming back. I had convinced myself that I was perfectly safe here because Lucienne hadn't tried to stop me and I had spent so much time here.

It may have sounded foolish, but I wanted to believe it.

"Morpheus," I said quietly, still trying to grapple with the fact that he was alive and standing before me.

"Hello, (Y/n)," he replied.

I stepped inside quickly, shutting and locking the door behind me. "What are you doing here?"

"You abandoned the Dreaming."

"So did the Corinthian," I countered as I set my stuff on the dining room table. "Surely, he is of more importance than I am."

Morpheus's jaw clenched. "I have a plan to take care of the Corinthian and the harm that he has caused."

"The Corinthian has done nothing short of living up to the limits and purpose that you defined for him," I continued. "His work extended to the world of the waking, but you are the reason that he has been able to do such a thing."

"He is not important at this moment. You returning to the Dreaming is."

"Did you not also abandon the Dreaming," I asked, ignoring his statement almost entirely. Delaying the inevitable, but I had no interest in calling it that at the time.

"I was imprisoned," he corrected. "I had no escape for a century. You chose to run out of selfishness."

"Yours was due to imprisonment, mine was out of necessity,"

"Lucienne was watching over the realm. You were safe there."

"I was not when you were in power. Your absence did not change that for better or worse. All that changed was the crumbling of buildings."

He paused for a moment. "I do not understand."

"You never wanted to," I muttered. I crossed my arms and stood in front of him.

"Explain it to me. Tell me why you felt it was so necessary to abandon any and all responsibility that you had."

"Your other dreams and nightmares tormented me as much as they tormented the humans that they had been assigned to," I said bluntly, stepping forward as I did so. "Are you truly shocked that I decided to leave when I knew that it would be safe for me to do so?"

Morpheus had no answer to my question. His jaw merely clenched and his back straightened, as if making himself taller would cause me to step down from this argument.

I shook my head. "You need to go-"

"Regardless of the reason, you have a purpose in the Dreaming," he replied. "You will not abandon it."

"You have been gone for a hundred years, you have no right to demand things of me-"

"It would be wise of you to remember your place," he cut me off. I felt as if the blood in my veins ran cold. "You may return on your own or I will ensure that you do."

"Lord Morpheus," I scoffed. "How could you possibly be so selfish-"

My words were cut off as a cloud of sand surrounded me. It felt as if I had no opportunity to realize what was happening before I was suddenly standing back in the Dreaming.

It was darker than I remembered. Colder. It was clear that some work had been done since it had started to crumble to pieces years ago, but something was still very clearly wrong.

I would have been more worried about the state of the realm if I had not been so consumed by my anger.

I still had a million things to say to Morpheus. Explanations and accusations and pleas. All of them equally important... and all of them going equally unheard.

I had relented to bothering him and Lucienne. I had been told over and over that there was no time. That I needed to get back to what I had been created for.

But I had experienced so much beyond that now. I couldn't just let it go.

I was upsetting them. I knew it. It was a shame that I didn't feel any guilt over that.

It wasn't until the dust settled around the Corinthian's actions and the Vortex that Morpheus ever decided to speak with me.

I walked into the main hall with my heart almost in my throat. I tried to calm myself down. It wasn't going well. I had been so angry before this. So focused on his refusal that now that I would be able to talk to him, I lost every argument that I wanted to make.

Terrified felt like both a word that was too intense and not intense enough.

When I made it there, he was standing at the top of his stairs, staring up at the large stained-glass windows in the room. I took a deep breath.

"You asked to see me, sir," I called.

Morpheus turned around and began walking down the steps. "Yes. There is a discussion that needs to be had."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What about, sir?"

"About your place here in the Dreaming," he replied.

"Oh?"

"When I sent you back to the Dreaming, I was focused on rebuilding the realm," he explained. "It had fallen apart during my absence, and I knew that returning the dreams that had escaped would aid in returning it to where it was meant to be.

"I understand now that my actions were selfish. My assumption that the world would be the same as it was before my imprisonment led me to ignore the wishes and knowledge of those who cared for me and the realm as a whole. The results were heartless. Blind."

I didn't respond. I was still uneasy about the meeting. He stepped forward a bit.

"The Dreaming was never as kind to you as I wished it to be," he muttered. "I am sorry for not addressing that. For not protecting you as I always should have."

"Thank you," I murmured. Having him acknowledge it would have been enough for the time being. However, that was not the only thing that Morpheus had to say.

"I wish to send you back," he continued. "Back to that life that you had made for yourself in the waking world. If you will allow me to do so."

I felt tears fill my eyes. "Sir, are you being serious?"

A small grin formed on his face. "Yes."

I let out a breathy, shocked laugh before quickly moving forward and hugging him as tightly as I could. I had forgotten any formal behavior or respectful actions in that moment. I almost pulled back and apologized but was stopped by him hugging me back and chuckling to himself.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"You have nothing to thank me for."

I stepped back slowly, smiling fully at him. "When can I leave?"

"Whenever you are ready."

"Now?"

"Are you ready now?"

"Yes."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of sand. "Well, then I believe that the only thing left is to wish you good luck."

"Thank you, Lord Morpheus."

He nodded to me once before holding out his hand and blowing a handful of sand at me.

I closed my eyes as the sand swept up around me. As the wind died down, I opened my eyes again. I found myself in the hall of my apartment building.

I smiled again before rushing to the door. I found my spare key under the welcome mat and quickly made it inside.

I let out a sigh as I looked around. Everything was exactly how I'd left it. It was all perfect. Not a speck out of place.

I chuckled to myself as my tears filled my eyes.

I had never known peace like that before.

And I would never be more grateful that I was finally given the chance to experience it.

------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

109 notes · View notes

mommieswithmuscles · 1 year ago

Text

Dom!Reader x Sub!Abby

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No minors and No men

Collaboration with @tojisboy

CW: Breeding kink, brat behaviors, orgasm denial, double ended strap on, mention of injury/infection but not detailed, sprinkle of angst, unresolved ending because I like it the way it is

Title: Big Talk

"You can run your mouth on patrol, but we get home and suddenly you're quiet? What's wrong?" You kick your door shut, locking it behind you.

"Nothing's wrong." You don't meet Abby's eyes.

"Really? What happened to you saying how you could fuck me if you wanted to? You have me alone again, yet you haven't tried anything."

"Not in the mood." Abby backs off.

"I'm sorry baby. Should we go to the cafeteria? They have burritos again." You shrug.

"Babe?" Abby looks at you. "Talk to me."

"You're cocky and it's getting on my nerves. I try and prove myself and you push back, and I'm left sat like I'm incapable of being a top."

"I wouldn't say incapable. You are. You're just very submissive and I like fucking with you about it. If it bothers you, I can let you lead without the bratting." Abby pauses.

"You won't get the same fun feeling though. And that stupid smirk and grin and-" she sighs, digging her palms into her eye sockets.

"Let's go eat so we can sleep." You watch Abby fumble with the lock before making her way to the cafeteria.

"I got this for you." Abby hands you her bag, fresh from patrol and sweaty. You're in your medical tent helping Nora patch up Alice. "Open it when you get home. I'll be back late. Manny and I have a meeting with Isaac and I don't want you left waiting."

"Thank you." You press a kiss to her lips. Abby kisses you back.

You get home before Abby as was expected. You put her new loot in the chest at the end of her bunk before finding the gift she left you. It's a strap on harness that has an extra dildo for the wearer on the inside. There's a tube connected with the exterior dildo. It's a goddamn breeding strap.

You try it on, gasping at the way the insertable sits just right inside you. It's comfortable enough to move around in, but not so comfortable you don't get pleasure from it moving around.

You get dressed in Abby's cargo pants and bomber jacket to sleep in, unable to find your sweats.

"Sorry baby." Abby whispers as she climbs under the covers with you. "You look cozy."

"Mhm, am." You yawn, curling more into her chest, welcoming her warmth.

"Sleepy baby?" Her arms close you into her chest, lips pressed against your forehead. You nod. "Ok sweetheart. Get some rest."

"Anderson!" You snap, slapping your hand down on the table. Abby jolts, knees hitting the surface. She winces.

"What? Why? What did I do?" She's exhausted, but you don't care.

"You're not listening! You need to go see Nora or Mel before your infection turns septic!" You gesture to her poorly dressed forearm. "Your dad was a wonderful surgeon, but you're shit at medicine. Go."

"Fuck that. And fuck you, you don't need to be a bitch about something as stupid as this!" You're both shocked at what she says. "Baby I'm sorry-"

"Go," you growl. She leaves.

"What did she say?" You glare Abby down as she approaches the bed.

"That I should have come in sooner." You nod. Abby sits beside you. "I'm really sorry about what I said. You didn't deserve it."

"Damn fucking right I didn't. And you ignored me on top of that."

"I was in my head. I hate how dumb I am about medicine. I watched my dad and can do basic things, but I should know more. I should be capable of more. It wasn't ok I took that out on you."

"And it wasn't ok you took it out on yourself. Talk to me." Abby shakes her head.

"Not that easy."

"I know baby. Come here?" You pat your upper chest, she shrugs. "Abby?" You raise your eyebrow at her.

"You're too good for me." She slowly allows herself to relax into you. You rub your hand under her shirt, tracing her spine and muscles.

"How long have I been out?" Abby peels herself from your drool slick shirt, muttering a small "sorry" before sitting shoulder to shoulder with you.

"A few hours. You needed the rest." You wipe the drool from her face with a tender palm. She flinches at the contact before leaning into your touch.

"I'm really sorry baby."

"I know love." Abby turns to face you. "Can I make it up to you?"

"I'll let you redeem yourself. As long as you promise that'll never happen again."

"I promise." Abby bows her head, hands fiddling in her lap.

"You ready?" Your hips adorn the newly gifted strap.

"Please?" Abby is sprawled on her back, legs open and shining with slick where you left her.

"Ok baby. You sure?" You make sure Abby has the chance to opt out before starting.

"I'm sure. Please." Abby's eyes glisten with want.

You're slow with her, taking your time before pressing in. She hisses in pain so you still, feeling the way she flutters around you. When she gives the go ahead, you press until you're fully in, hips resting against hers as she pants in your ear and neck.

"Feel good?"

"Mhm!" Abby gasps as you start rocking your hips slow, picking up the pace as her body adjusts.

You use her sounds and the way she grabs at your ass, boobs, and back for leverage to know if you're doing what she likes.

"Right there?" and "This ok? You like that?" whispered into Abby's ears. She always hums, pleading, mouth gasping and eyes fluttering as she answers. "Don't touch yourself. If you try, you don't get to cum."

It's not long before your pleasure takes the reigns. "I'm close, are you ready?" You never last as long as she does. Abby's legs quiver when you bottom out for a final time. You fumble around with the tube, having completely forgotten to undo the cork. She giggles into her free hand as you stare down at her. "Haha, so funny," you roll your eyes with a smile. "Ok, are you ready this time?"

"Always ready, my love." Abby's eyes are gentle as you lean down to kiss her. You release into her and filled her. You gasp as she moans against your lips. You pull out and rest on her chest. There's cum trailed from her hole, up her clit, and what remained in the strap is now pooling on the plane of fat sat above her pelvic bone.

"Look at that pretty girl, you're all messy now." You kiss her forehead, brushing the messy stray hairs from the front of her eyes.

"You really think so?" Abby's breath hitches when she plays with some of the cum drooling down her clit.

"What did I say?" You slap her hand. She flinches.

"But I held myself for you to cum? I thought it was fine now!"

"Changed my mind." You pull the harness off, whimpering at the way the insertable pops out.

#no men allowed #abby anderson #no minors allowed #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby smut #abby tlou2 #abby the last of us 2 #abby x you #abby x reader #you x abby #reader x abby #abby x reader smut #smut

46 notes · View notes

itskattkm · 2 years ago

Text

New York New Rules Pt. 4

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a slow burn

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,

I'm 11 minutes away and I have missed you all day

I'm 11 minutes away, so why aren't you here?

I think I missed you callin' on the other line

I'm just thinkin' all these thoughts up in my mind

Talkin' love but I can't even read the signs

I would sell my soul for a bit more time

You stain all on my body like you're red wine

You're the fuckin' acid to my alkaline

Stupid. Frail. Perplexed. Fearful. Offensive. Sharp and Hurt

„Y/N you rather feel nothing again" I said to myself as I stared at the ceiling of my room. I've probably been lying here for 15 minutes because 11 minutes ran at least three times in a row. In fact, this was one of my favorite songs. But why actually? I know that I have a feeling for the darkness. But why were pain and suffering so self-evident for me? No matter which movie I watched or which series. My darling was always the villain.

There are really people who just hate them because they have the title of villain. But why are they trying not to understand? What about Katherinen Pierce from the Vampire Diaries? This woman suffered and that only because she wanted to be loved and loved? She lost her family. Her child and was hunted for centuries. The man she loved hated her and didn't believe that the love between them was real. Maleficent... rejected and hunted because she was different? Kylo Ren, Star Wars... who let a big wait on his shoulders... not to forget that Luke wanted to kill him. Wanda Maximof... one of my favorites. What was wrong with creating your own world in which you could be happy? Especially if you had lost everything you had left.

Was I the evil one? Did I want to be the bad one? Sometimes I'm not sure but the feeling I felt when Tara looked at me and asked where I was during the attack... I won't forget this so quickly because at that moment I felt like one of the bad guys. But I also felt misunderstood.

Did Tara hate me? How did Tara think about me in general? Since I've been friends with Mindy, I've met her maybe five times. And we didn't talk much to each other. Most of the time our conversations were about the university. I tried to get closer to her. However, I always had the feeling that I was always failing with her. One second I thought I had full self-confidence but then a look into Tara's eyes and my brain shuts down. I had really never felt something like that before. Especially not towards a woman.

I always stayed away from relationships or physical contacts. As soon as it went in this direction, I always pulled back and hid in my bubble. However, there were days when I would have liked to go to the next bar with my dirty thoughts and have been looking for someone for a hot night.

But as I had analyzed myself so far and with the help of Dr. Stone, I knew what my problem was.

The music in my headphones stopped. I looked at my cell phone and saw that my alarm clock that I had set after talking to Sam was now active.

Should I? Shouldn't I?

"Fuck it," I said to myself and made my way to the Blackmoore. I would prove to them all that I am not Ghostface and if they do not meet me then I will also permanently delete these people from my life.

Slowly I played with the ring on my finger. It wasn't special. I didn't like fancy jewelry either. But this ring carried good memories with it and that's why I always wore it with me. When I saw the carpenters and their friends in front of the Blackmoore, I hesitated slightly. Everyone was sitting on the benches of the university and Mindy seemed to be holding a monologue. She was the only one standing in front of them and gestured around like crazy with her hands.

"Why am I doing this to myself?" I asked myself desperately and approached the group. Drier than I thought, I said "hi" when I entered the inner circle and drew all attention to me. There was a free place next to Quinn, so I sat down with her just as she opened her mouth but Tara was faster and said "you came?" I avoided her gaze and looked coolly at Mindy who looked at me with pinched eyes " Y/N Perfect timing..."

Mindy went to explain the rules and that we were in a franchise. I really famous myself to listen to her, but the voice in my head was too loud.

Don't look at Tara. You must never look her in the eyes again. Is she looking at you? Are the others watching you? Do the others know what happened at the police station? Do they know about my state of health? Did they thought I was Ghostface?

"Am I gonna die a virgin?"

Wait a minute? My full attention was back. I looked at Ethan and then at Mindy.

"Weird overshare but that brings us to our current suspects. Ethan! A shy dorky guy who no one suspects because he's so shy and dorky"

So I wasn't the only suspect? I felt a slight feeling of relief.

" Quinn! The sexy sluty roommate"

Quinn looked at Mindy slightly irritated

"Sex positive but thanks?"

"How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?" She asked but Sam answers "we put an anonymous ad online"

And Tara replied "and her dad is a cop"

Mindy took a step towards Tara and said in an aggressive tone "and that makes it more likely that she is the killer because having a cop that is a great cover! Do you not remember how this movies work Tara?!"

Now Mindy gave everything. That reminded me too well of the many discussions we had about movies. Then Mindy even suspected her own girlfriend. Like wow… this whole thing was really serious.

"Never Trust the Love interest..." she said coolly and her look was serious. Suddenly there was a tension in the group. That sounded pretty deep... I mean in the first stab film it was also the love interest, among other things.

"Y/N!" Mindy called and smiled at me dirty. I sighed, pinched my eyes briefly and looked away from the group but Mindy came one step closer to me. "my dear friend Y/N... you are also new to our group," she began.

Did she say group? What did she mean by that? Was I part of the group?

"As your best friend, I know that you are going to therapy"

Oh no Mindy, please don't. Not again. Not again. Why me? Why?

"But you never told me why you are going to therapy... would you share the reason with us?" I avoided her eyes and looked nervously at the floor. My heart was beating so fast that I felt the pulse pounding in my ears. Again I played with the ring in my finger "Mindy she doesn't have to tell us anything..." said Tara after a short silent, low-key.

Surprised, I looked at her and our eyes met.

Relief. Relief? RELIEF!!! The first word that went through my head. Did Tara just defend me? Why had she done that? And there she was again. This gentle darkness, and the little white lights, like a light at the end of the tunnel that rested me to tell me here you are safe.

Stop it. I tore my eyes off her and stared at my ring. "okay then tell us at least where you were during the attack..." I looked at Mindy "home... and you are welcome to ask Maria when I entered the building and when I left it last. As I know her, she can even tell you the exact time" Mindy nodded in agreement to me, she knew Maria "okay. Good alibi. Nevertheless, you are suspicious. You don't like to socialize and maintain the good girl, reading books and sitting at home image"

Confused, I looked at Anika, was that something good or bad?

Anika said "that's not fair, if then we are all suspects, including you"

Mindy agreed with her and said to Sam "especially Sam" confused I looked to Sam, I had the feeling of not knowing something and because of the looks of the others I could see that I was right.

After that, I turned on the conversations of the others and tried to look at everyone unobtrusively. I started with Quinn. Quinn's emotions were neutral in order not to be completely present. Anika seemed very calm and attentive. Sam seemed tense. Chad hmmm I don't have to worry about him, he was fully focused on taking notes. I wanted to skip Tara and see Ethan directly, but our eyes met. Had she been watching me? After not even a second, I broke off the look of contact again by looking at my ring. Suddenly Quinn got up, then Anika moved to Mindy. The group disbanded.

"We have to stay together, that's the only way we are safe and can rule out who the killer is," said Mindy, "you could all come to us" said Sam and now also stood up.

Did she mean me with everyone, too? How exactly did they think of all this here now?

Confused, I asked her as if I hadn't even been present at Mindys Monologue "I don't… wait, I don't look through. What's the plan now?"

Chad replied when he got up "we're going to Sam and Tara... stay together... and try not to be killed" he didn't give me more information when he left. Chad, were you serious? Confused, I looked after the others when they were almost gone.

And then I suddenly noticed a person next to me. Before I could turn around, there was a hand on my right forearm. And then I was back in the tunnel... tried to get to the light. "Come to us tonight and we can tell you everything," Tara whispered to me, slowing down my nervous pulse. I could listen to her for hours when she talked to me like that. It was so reassuring. Warm. Pleasant. Right.

Her eyes fell on Sam when she nodded in agreement with Tara "maybe you can bring another pizza right away," she said and slightly raised the corners of her mouth. Tara pressed my arm slightly and looked at me at with bright eyes "by the way thank you for the pizza... after this hangover I needed it".

What was that feeling at once? Joy or nervousness? I had to smile unconsciously and nodded "special wishes?"

Tara snapped her finger and began to list different toppings and looked at Sam to see if she agreed with her "The main thing Jalapeños... registered" I said and stood up. "You have our address?" Sam asked again and I nodded in agreement. She raised the corners of her mouth again before putting her hands in her jacket and set off. Tara followed her.

Before my brain realized what my body was doing, I grabbed Tara's hand and hoped she would turn to me again

"Why did you help me earlier?"

And again this pure placid and sweetness to recognize in her face "what happened in the police station was just fucked up" we both had to laugh about her word choice and Tara's dimpels came to light.

Damn, how could Tara be so beautiful?

Okay, pull yourself together Y/N! How was that again with Tara? Never looking into the eyes again? Now I just wanted to sink into them and that even though I could never keep eye contact. Simp

"And I wouldn't want that either... if I imagined that someone would have done that to Sam..." she looked back briefly to the her. Sam stood a few meters away from us and waited for Tara "and see that as a leap of faith Y/L/N... don't spoil it" dryly I laughed and shook my head "I wouldn't even have a good motive" she squeezed my hand briefly.

Did we hold our hands all the time? How could I miss that? I mean... with this face you forget everything, she gave me a grin with sharp eyes and whispered "but there's always a motive" and then she disappeared.

#actress #fanfiction #jenna ortega #ghostface #melissa barrera #samantha carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #vada cavell #wednesday #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader

93 notes · View notes

lovesongbracket · 2 years ago

Text

Reminder: Vote based on the song, not the artist or specific recording! The tracks referenced are the original artist, aside from a few rare cases where a cover is the most widely known.

Lyrics, videos, info, and notable covers under the cut. (Spotify playlist available in pinned post)

Your Song

Written By: Elton John & Bernie Taupin

Artist: Elton John

Released: 1970

Cover included: Ewan McGregor for Moulin Rouge!, 2001

The song was composed and performed by Elton John but the lyrics were written by Bernie Taupin. It originally appeared in his self titled and second album. Elton John hadn’t come out of the closet yet, but Bernie Taupin knew, which is part of the reason why the lyrics avoid using gendered pronouns. In a 2013 interview with Rolling Stone, Elton John said: “What can I say, it’s a perfect song. It gets better every time I sing it. I remember writing it at my parents' apartment in North London, and Bernie giving me the lyrics, sitting down at the piano and looking at it and going, ‘Oh, my God, this is such a great lyric, I can’t fuck this one up.’ It came out in about 20 minutes, and when I was done, I called him in and we both knew. I was 22, and he was 19, and it gave us so much confidence. ‘Empty Sky’ was lovely, but it was very naive. We went on to do more esoteric stuff like ‘Take Me to the Pilot,’ of course, but musically, this was a big step forward. And the older I get, the more I sing these lyrics, and the more they resonate with me.”

[Verse 1] It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside I'm not one of those who can easily hide I don't have much money, but boy if I did I'd buy a big house where we both could live [Verse 2] If I was a sculptor, heh, but then again, no Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do My gift is my song and this one's for you [Chorus] And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world [Verse 3] I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss Well, a few of the verses, well, they've got me quite cross But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song It's for people like you that keep it turned on [Verse 4] So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen [Chorus] And you can tell everybody this is your song It may be quite simple but now that it's done I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world [Outro] I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind That I put down in words How wonderful life is while you're in the world

youtube

Demolition Lovers

Written By: Matt Pelissier, Mikey Way, Ray Toro & Gerard Way

Artist: My Chemical Romance

Released: 2002

The Demolition Lovers are the couple seen on the cover for MCR’s next album, Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge. This song, along with much of the album, is a prequel to the story of Three Cheers… in which a man makes a deal with the devil to get his dead lover back by killing 1,000 evil men and giving the devil their souls in exchange for her. This song is most likely where the lover dies. The two “Demolition Lovers” are featured on the cover of the album.

[Verse 1] Hand in mine, into your icy blues And then I'd say to you, "We could take to the highway With this trunk of ammunition, too" I'd end my days with you, in a hail of bullets [Chorus] I'm trying, I'm trying To let you know just how much you mean to me And after all the things We put each other through and [Verse 2] I would drive on to the end with you A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full And I feel like there's nothing left to do But prove myself to you, and we'll keep it running [Chorus] But this time, I mean it I'll let you know just how much you mean to me As snow falls on desert sky Until the end of everything I'm trying, I'm trying To let you know how much you mean As days fade and nights grow And we grow cold [Post-Chorus] Until the end, until this pool of blood Until this, I mean this, I mean this, until the end of [Chorus] I'm trying, I'm trying To let you know how much you mean As days fade and nights grow And we grow cold But this time, we'll show them We'll show them all how much we mean As snow falls on desert sky Until the end of every… [Interlude] All we are, all we are is bullets, I mean this All we are, all we are is bullets, I mean this All we are, all we are is bullets, I mean this All we are, all we are is bullets, I mean this [Guitar Solo] [Bridge] As lead rains will pass on through Our phantoms forever, forever Like scarecrows that fuel this flame We're burning forever and ever Know how much I want to show you You're the only one Like a bed of roses There's a dozen reasons in this gun [Outro] And as we're falling down, and in this pool of blood And as we're touching hands, and as we're falling down And in this pool of blood, and as we're falling down I'll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever!

youtube

#polls #poll tournament #poll bracket #tournament #bracket #lovesongbracket #round4 #elton john #your song #my chemical romance #demolition lovers

260 notes · View notes

stelliestell · 7 months ago

Text

gonna ramble a bit here

hearing all these allegations against Lily still hurts in a sense. i don't like Lily, and haven't for roughly ~2 years, but i really was a fan of her! i even was working on drawing her and Mikaila a while ago (permanently unfinished in part because it was on my old phone)

("trans women series" refers to me drawing all these trans women creators i like after seeing a crap ton of disgusting terf posts)

Lily greatly influenced the way i thought and, in a sense, still does. i think some of her older videos still hold up! (Blame and groom being one i still appreciate, I'm pretty sure Base Breaker was the eye opening one for me esp. i remember showing my mom a clip from it saying something in disagreement to it only for her to say she pretty much agreed with it)

Obviously, Lily is untrustworthy. This is just a fact; she constantly changes her stories and lies about things (whether purposeful or unintentionally) such as details in Steven Universe or creating false arguments/problems. Things are also factually correct, such as her writing Stockholm. Multiple things prove this. Because she's untrustworthy and blatantly lies about the truth, that's why I can't really trust what she says. That's why I believe Courtney. That's why I believe Britt.

Despite this, I find myself struggling to believe all these claims against her. I wasn't 100% sure on her being nooblord9001, and I think we all know that she actually isn't. Seeing people talk about her faking cancer or being abusive to Mikaila, it's hard for me to really get behind that. Stuff like that is EXTREMELY hard to prove or disprove, and I don't really know how to feel about it. This is not me trying to claim I believe Lily is truthfully a good wife and had cancer, but it's hard for me to really get on board with those claims.

In a sense, I also feel bad for Mikaila. I'm not sure if any allegations are against her, but before and after I was a fan of Lily, I really liked Mikaila. She seems sweet and I liked watching her videos occasionally. After seeing a recent post of hers, it kinda made me reflect. She discussed how people who claim Lily abused her haven't reached out to ask if she's okay, and I honestly believe her. I believe there's more than that, but i feel guilt. It's kinda like MO is a prop, and I feel bad about that.

I don't want to constantly hate on Lily Orchard. I do not like her, I find her extremely dangerous, and I honestly believe she is a predator. I greatly dislike the fact that she is still on the internet and has an influence over people. It's hard for me to listen to these horrible allegations that I fully believe and it's really hard for me to hear critics of her disagree. I don't want to be in an echo chamber. That's not to say I don't trust these people, it's just tiring. Everything about this is tiring. Claiming your "stalkers" are only hating on you because they are transphobic is exhausting. It seems pointless. I don't want it to be.

Around a year ago, I started a video script called "Lily Orchard has backed herself into a corner." Like practically all my other projects, this one will remain unfinished, and while I still think she backed herself into a corner (this title referring to her denying writing Stockholm), I'm losing hope. People have been critics of her for so long and basically nothing has come of it. It's frustrating. I hate being pessimistic, but I'm worried that nothing will come of this. In all honestly, I hope Lily sues her critics just for them to provide evidence against her.

Feel free to correct me on anything. I'm willing to be change my mind and I obviously want to know if something I believe is false. I'm tired.

#lily orchard #lily peet

11 notes · View notes

captain-america-tho · 6 months ago

Note

Hello, sorry i don't know how to use this app xd I want to ask about ur reply, " he became cap for bucky" It's been awhile since i seen the movie last time, can u please explain to me where and how ? 🥺 thanx!

Hi!!

Ok, so this is only my interpretation and it has been a while since I saw the movies myself so I hope this makes sense <3

– – –

Obviously “became cap for bucky” is a bit of a shortcut. Steve’s decision to join the army, his personality (his heroic qualities), his decision to undergo the supersoldier experiment - all the things one could argue made Steve into Captain America - had nothing to do with Bucky.

I meant that thanks to Bucky Steve had the push to become Cap rather than play the role of Cap.

Since becoming a supersoldier Steve performs on various events helping the government raise money for the army and boosting morale (or trying to). At this point he is physically a super soldier, and he is referred to as Captain America. But it's just that - a title. A role he is playing. He feels like a circus monkey, performing for somebody’s entertainment, no more useful than a prop to take photos with. He is called Captain America, he is playing Captain America, but he is not Captain America.

Learning from Peggy what happened to the 107th - and that Bucky is presumed dead - pushes him on a solo suicide rescue mission. And I think that this is the point at which he becomes Captain America, the hero. He makes the decision, he takes the risk and he saves not only Bucky but the whole division, and thus proves himself in the eyes of the colonel.

And he went there because of Bucky. Because the colonel thought he was dead, and Steve believed he was wrong - that Bucky was alive (he told the rescued prisoners that he was looking for Sergeant Barnes).

Now, obviously Steve has always been heroic ie he possessed the heroic qualities. He is brave, loyal, has a strong moral compass etc. His mom raised him right. So I'm not saying he wasn’t heroic/a hero before the rescue mission. I’m saying he wasn’t Captain-America-the-Hero (as opposed to Captain-America-the-Girls-Choir-Prop) until the rescue mission.

Then in Civil War Steve leaves behind the shield and thus rejects the title/role of Captain America (the Hero). In Infinity War we see him as Nomad - he is still a hero and he does what is right because he will always be a hero.

But he became Captain America and he stopped being Captain America for Bucky. Thanks to Bucky. Because of Bucky.

also side note: the movie is titled Captain America: The First Avenger and there is exactly one point at which Steves wants to avenge someone - Bucky, precisely his death. Narratively speaking Steve (the character) didn’t need to undergo an internal change (like for example Tony had to in IM1) to become a hero - he already is heroic. But there is a point at which Steve (the character) does change internally: he changes his stance from “I don't want to kill anyone; I don't like bullies, I don't care where they're from” to “I'm not gonna stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured.” And that is also because of Bucky.

God I love them.

#steve rogers #steve rogers meta #stucky #stucky meta #my first ever meta omg #thanks so much for the ask im so happy i could answer that!#also im so glad this was an ask bc the answer got a bit long #bucky is so important to steve's character and narrative arc <3 #(he wouldnt abandon him in a different century <3 that doesnt fit the arc <3)#ask #meta

12 notes · View notes

femmebambi · 1 year ago

Note

oh? you’ve trained yourself to stay quiet? so if i slowly fucked you with my tongue, you think you could keep quiet? you think you wouldn’t need to cover your mouth with your hands when i take your clit between my lips and push my fingers into you, curling my fingers against your sensitive walls at the same time as i suck on your clit? you think you could handle all that and stay quiet at the same time?

and how am i supposed to bury my strap inside you when you can only take two fingers? i know you can do better than that sweetheart…

as for edging yourself, i would love nothing more than to watch you get so close only to pull your hands away at the last second, chest heaving and teeth clamped down on your red, swollen lip to stop it falling open and releasing all those pretty moans. i want to see you writhe and tease yourself, slowly getting more frustrated without release. but you won’t let yourself cum because you know i’d be disappointed if you didn’t work yourself into a needy, mindless frenzy first. and when you think you can’t take anymore and your neck is straining against the pillows, i’ll take over and edge you some more. i’ll tie your wrists together and tell you not to move them or else i’ll stop. i’ll make you feel so good with my fingers, my tongue, my strap, whatever i want really. and when your cheeks are wet with tears and you’re begging me to let you have just one, i will ruin you. i won’t stop making you cum until i’m happy with how well you take me. until you’ve earned the title of my good girl. i’ll leave you shaking and numb and so so sore, and you’ll love every minute of it.

and if you really want me to come off anon and dm you, you’ll earn that too. go on babygirl, beg for it.

- 🧸

yeahhh see, I don't know if I could be quiet in that situation. Need to feel you so bad. I'm so needy tonight 🥹. I could probably take 3 if I'm feeling turned on enough..and probably after I've cum once. Maybe I'll try it tonight just for you love.

I'd edge myself for as long as you wanted me to. Want to prove that I'm your good girl. I want whatever you have to offer. I'd cry and beg because you're just making me feel so good. I want to be left sore so my body remembers how well you fucked me just as my brain does. I actually thought about you fucking me against a wall so much today. Like I need you so bad.

I don't want to beg for something that you'll be uncomfortable doing :(. I will happily beg to you, but only if you actually want to do that.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

#🧸 anon #needtotouchmyselftothethoughtofyouomg #graceanswers

16 notes · View notes

bleedingcloud · 5 months ago

Text

9/19/24

Anyone who knows me knows that for one, I always say I'll be succinct, and I never am.

Anyone who knows me also knows that I'm a very reserved person. Someone once told me that I'm the queen of deflecting. (If you see this, ily).

Truthfully, this has been one of the worst years of my life.

Irreconcilable grievances amongst a myriad of conflating factors have cast over the wonderful things that I have encountered and experienced this year.

I have always attempted to be a kind and altruistic person. My intentions have always been a pure display of my intrinsic desire to put action behind my words, show up in a multitude of ways for others, and prove to them that there are people who care. It is meaningless to me the amount of time I have known an individual. I will always go out of my way to bend over backwards to disprove theories of isolation.

Regardless of how hard I try, I cannot change this value. I am a problem solver by nature and I want to help. I would drop everything and anything to drive hundreds of miles to be there to show you that you're not alone.

The weight of my endeavors has never felt as fruitless as they have felt this year. This is not to say I have felt any regret over anything I've done. I am a firm believer in people doing things because they want to, not because of some arbitrary obligation.

There are people dependent on me. I don't mean in a "my friends need me!" kind of way, but rather dependents that require financial, emotional, and physical presence. My survival is contingent on the dependency of others.

I feel like this year I've had such a disconnect in reconciling my past and future in this weird space of purgatory.

In spaces of academic elitism, I struggle to connect, having gone to a Title I-funded public school system for the duration of my youth. I make attempts to cut through the class gaps and prove my worth as an academic. These efforts find me in good faith with my professors, but studying alone for hours is nothing more than an outlet to distract from the fact that I am alone. Academia has always been my coping mechanism. I can throw myself into hours of reading and work, and the academic gratification feels fulfilling.

I turn to those I miss and love, but at times, it feels there are these unspoken distances or spaces between, or maybe I have grown away. I am incredibly appreciative of those still in my life that I do love and care about.

My family is a mess I wouldn't attempt to touch in this venting session, but know they're always on my mind, in the most gut-wrenching and painful way.

I've felt this year has just been me being squeezed for juice and there's nothing left for me to give. My cup has not been refilled. My attempts to fill my cup have been going back to my previous mention of ensuring others don't feel alone.

I have been told you cannot martyr yourself, but I cannot conceivably conjure up an alternative purpose. My life is not for me - it is simply a vehicle to help others. That is what gives me purpose.

I have loved and I have lost so much this year. I have reached out absent any responses. It has been incredibly difficult for me to reconcile how I could have so much love in my heart and yet feel so innately alone. I have committed social suicide with the potential intent of committing the real deal. I have attempted to drown the weight in my heart with any means necessary to make it go away. I have screamed and cried and pleaded with G-d or whoever else would possibly hear my cries and tell me it was going to be okay.

I have done some incredible things this year. I have loved and enjoyed and indulged and learned so much. I would not write this with the intent to paint a false image. People have done so much for me and shown me so much love. I'm just trying to keep moving forward. I am searching for alternative means.

The most gut-wrenching pain I have encountered this year has been my expression of love and care in its entirety to those around me and receiving not an iota of love back. Giving my all to someone or something and being met with disillusion and moments of exclusion. I’ve always felt marganilized in various spaces throughout my life, but never as much as I have this year. I am not enough for spaces of elitism, but how could I not be enough or maybe even too much for camaraderie? This is my elegiac moment. I ask for nothing. I should expect nothing.

I'm going to keep pushing through because I know my love isn't wasted and I know my efforts might be fruitless, but they mean something to me. Despite how different I crave to be, despite how much I want to absolve myself of altruism, I cannot. These factors are far too intrinsic to erase.

Hearing someone tell me how much my words, actions, or efforts meant to them make it worth it - gives my life meaning.

If you need me, you know where to find me.

5 notes · View notes

neon-rhapsodies · 4 months ago

Text

On not writing

A few weeks ago I wrote in my notes app: "Do you still want to write?" I then turned that note into a post, also in my notes app, that read: "What's the point of writing if nobody reads it?". I came back to that post the other day. I copied that question and pasted it into Google. A lot of stuff came up saying that, if you like writing, you should do it anyway. You should do it because you like it. You should do it for yourself. Basically, you should do it because it's worth it; you should do it because it has value to you. This is the tricky bit. I'm not sure my writing has any value to me anymore.

There's another post, in my other notes app, titled 'On writing'. In that post, I shared the story of how I'd always been good at writing, until I had an accident at university, and now I struggle with writing. The post was a much shorter version of another series of posts, again in that same notes app, in which I explained how I used to be good at writing as a child, then got gradually worse as a teenager, then struggled through university, then had my accident at university, and now I have trauma from that experience and feel sick whenever I try to write anything.

The truth is… none of this is true. At least, not entirely true.

I've always been good at writing, and I still am. I know I am, because I've been told by many people over time throughout my life. I was told by my teachers in primary and middle school. I won prizes and awards in secondary school. I scored several first class marks at university with my essays, and I even got a first class in my BA degree and a Merit in my Master's. When I was first looking to apply for a PhD, I once wrote a proposal over 10 hours of hyperfocus-induced writing, and my potential supervisor, who is now a professor, told me that it was great, and he wished he was as good as me at writing.

I should note that I am actually a very humble person in real life, and that that paragraph was one of the hardest things I've ever had to write in my entire life. But I had to! I had to write it down to make it real. Make it real to myself, as much as I keep saying that I struggle with writing, that there is a fair amount of evidence suggesting that, historically, when I've written something, it has usually been good, and I should keep that in mind.

As for the question of what's the point of writing if nobody reads it… that's more complicated. I have a blog. I've had a blog for many years. I've been asking myself that question for about as many years as I've had a blog . And yet, despite everything, I've kept writing. But behind everything I've ever written, there was a deep need to connect, to belong, to be part of something; to share a piece of my soul and see it reflected in that of others. All that stuff before university, I wrote it because I knew that it was going to be read. And that is a fact, because I have plenty of ideas for stories or posts or research that I never wrote about in my spare time, and that's likely because of that question. Because for me, writing, at least in prose, for some reason, has always been about being read. Not to prove my worth or anything. But to be seen, and to see myself being seen. And I don't know why that is, but I know it is, and that's the way it is.

When I started writing on this blog proper, I had just finished university and I was looking for a way to connect, to find my community, having just lost my fellow community of Classics students and aspiring researchers. I thought I would go through my ideas and start writing on them one by one, but it never happened. First, for a very true, very good reason -- I actually had trauma. I was actually unwell, feeling sick just at the thought of writing, and there was nothing I could do about it -- I had to stop. But also… no matter how hard I kept working on the form, the format, the way to put my writing into existence, I never quite managed to make it happen. All I could do was keep writing about the writing itself and all the circumstances surrounding it -- all the issues with academia, with Classics, the Classics community as a whole, etc. And as I look back at that list of topics I wanted to write about… now, I don't know what to think. They don't look so great to me anymore. I'm not sure.

This is why I started this post the way I did. Because, after I spent some time examining the question "what's the point of writing if nobody reads it?", I realised that the actual question was the original one, and that is, "do I still want to write?". Do I still want to write about this stuff? Do I still want to write about these topics that I do find fascinating in their own right, but I would never want to venture into, knowing that I would never have anyone to share them with?

Which takes me back to the other issue of me no longer being good at writing. The problem is not that my writing has gotten worse over time. The problem is that I've had fewer and fewer people to share it with. And granted, that can also mean that one's writing gets worse over time. But historically, for me, that has not been the case. Instead, what has changed? Simple! I am no longer a student. I work full time. I don't have time to write. I can't make time to write. And I don't have anyone to write for, so, I find it more difficult to get motivated. Because, at least in prose, I don't write for myself. I write for others.

I should definitely note that I know this is not right. I know that there is definitely something going on here, something to do with my self-esteem, my self-worth, and how it is tied to how others perceive me. I know it, and I get it. But also, the fact that I do know this does not make it any easier. And I'm not going to get over my perfectionism, anxiety or imposter syndrome about writing anytime soon. It does help that I understand it. But again, it doesn't solve the issue. It just tells me what works and what doesn't. And right now, this… this doesn't work. I can't write for myself. I can only write for others. At least in prose.

At least in prose, I keep saying, because verse, instead… it's a lot easier.

I've been writing poetry for years now. I have a lot of stuff in my notes apps. Some stuff I even put out online when Poetizer was a thing. Now I'm thinking of posting it on a sideblog on Tumblr. Otherwise, my main craft would be songwriting. I have written a few songs in the past, with some success, and ideally I would like to go back to writing songs on the main. That includes recording and performing them live. In theory, I see myself as a musician, with a dash of poetry on the side, and a few stories written here and there. But at the moment, I am doing nothing. Literally nothing. This is because I've had a few issues in my life, and the issue with writing has taken over everything else, poisoning any other form of creativity -- because how could I possibly find it easier to write songs or poems, when 'serious' writing had always come so natural to me?

I suppose it has something to do with feeling alive. Poetry, music… they make me feel alive. Writing, however… when I think about how the word itself makes me feel, I see so much death. Death of the self. Death of my worth. Death of… well, actual death. Near-death experience. Yeah. I've had that. And it was because of writing. It was because of the pressure that that 'serious' thing that writing is can put on you. Granted, it was me who did it. I put the pressure on myself. But it was all about the writing. And I don't want that anymore.

When I try to visualise that kind of writing, the one that once got me down so bad, I see the faces of all the people who had such high expectations of me, and whose trust I betrayed… whom I let down. Again, all in my mind. Remember when I said that I've always written for someone? I also meant them. Not just the readers in front of the page, but all the people behind it -- my family, my friends, my lecturers. A huge crowd of people looking in, checking in, making sure I'm doing alright. Ah, the pressure! Unbearable. But with music or poetry, I've never felt that. I have had my poetry read in public. I've played my music in front of live audiences without skipping a beat. I've had people come to me and be so surprised, asking me where that came from, telling me that on stage I'm a different person. I've always loved that feeling. But then, I also like it when there's no audience. When I write a poem that I like, or record a song that makes me feel alive. I love it! But with writing, I haven't felt like that. Not in years. And I think I can see why. Music and poetry have always had value to me, even without an audience. But not writing. To me, writing has always been about the others.

So now, when I look at my ideas for topics I would have liked to write about, I just don't see the value in them. I mean, they're not that bad but… they're not quite as worth writing about as I would like. They're not as academic as I'd like, and there's no academia to make them worth my while. Again, I keep thinking: if no one reads it, what's the point? I'm not happy with the topics, I'm not happy with the medium. And most importantly, there's no community for me to write for. That's why I had worked so hard on that project of mine to create an online Classics community, a "forum-like space", where people like myself could share their ideas and writing and seek feedback from others. But that went the way it went. As did all my previous and subsequent experiments on genre and style.

I've now gone through my list of ideas and sorted them out. I think if I touch them again, it will be for a PhD.

Yes, I have been thinking about doing a PhD. Not now, of course. But at some point, in the future. Because now that I've established that the trauma from my university experience, whilst very debilitating, is not the main reason why I've been struggling with writing, something in my brain has unlocked. Now that I know the real cause of my problem, I can see also what the solution would be. Need an audience to write? Make one. Do a PhD. Pick an interesting topic. Really, I'd write about any topic. But let's choose at least something that tickles my interest. Then, get a supervisor. Maybe two. Get a community of aspiring and established researchers. And then see what happens.

Going through my posts again on this blog, I was struck by something I had written about my prior project of the online Classics community. That perhaps it would help if I saw my project as a job to get done, some great mighty endeavour, rather than the passion thingy I had been cultivating on the side. That's why, thinking about it recently, a PhD sounded more appealing. Because at least it would give me a reason to write -- not for myself, but for others, for the research community, for the greater purpose of contributing to the knowledge of all humankind. Again, I'm not fussy about the topic. Because to me, it matters not the what, but the how.

In another post not long ago, I joked: "Video essay this, video essay that. But what about a video PhD?". Obviously, the times are not ripe for that. Not yet, at least. But I have noticed that saying and recording things out loud is highly beneficial for me, and I would like to incorporate it into any writing practice I would do for a PhD. And whatever institution or supervisor I end up doing it with, it will be very important for them to understand that I want to do this on my terms. First of all, remotely. Part time, obviously. And crucially, using whatever methodologies I see fit. With lots of contact, and stream of consciousness writing, and flexible targets to help me stay on top of things. I'm sure there's more for me to explore and find out, but this, this is fundamental. I refuse to follow a stifling tradition that revels in elitism and dogmatism and all other useless -isms. I am looking to embrace creative and intellectual exploration, collaboration, and appreciation.

I would be lying if I didn't admit that, for once, I want to do this not just for others, but also for myself. I want to prove to myself that I can do this, and that I can do it the way I want. And I want to prove to others too that it can be done in this or any other way. Because yes, I want to do this for myself, but also because of my main goal: to help make Classics more accessible. Because if a PhD can be done in whatever way one wishes, surely there's no limit to whatever other ways our interactions in the world of Classics could be like, whether personal or formal, in public or among academics. I dream of a world where these things do not exist in extremes or even opposites, but rather as a seamless experience, where inreach and outreach fuse to become a single and different kind of reach -- reaching deep inside our own humanity and out to our fellow human beings. A dream a being can dream… a dream of being. Not just seeming, or existing. But living.

A PhD to me is simply a step in the right direction. Accepting to play the game, but only in order to change it, and for the better. Rejecting the rules, ready to make my own, and wishing for others to do the same. In the hope that one day, we won't be just a few, but many. Not a cohort. But a community.

That is worth writing for.

So, for now, that is it. I won't be blogging regularly anymore. I won't be writing long posts. Not even personal ones. Instead, I will dedicate myself to poetry and songwriting, at least until the time comes for me to do a PhD. I might still return to long-form writing if I feel like it. But right now, I don't. And to me, that is the rightful conclusion to a chapter of my life that I have let define and speak for me for too long. It is only but natural for one's relationship with writing to evolve over time. It is time that I let myself leave these pastures to seek new ones. To set myself on a journey of self-development… for a new, transformed relationship with writing. But even if it will be different, it will still be writing. To quote the header of my main blog: "We are writing… We are writing… We are writing…".

2 notes · View notes

lokavisi · 1 year ago

Text

Two days in a row I've posted a long UPG story. Well, here goes...

If you're reading this close to the time of posting, you can clearly see that my blog name here is Lokakind. AKA Loki's child. I know a lot of people use -son or -dottir as suffixes to denote their devotion or relationship to deity within the Norse pantheon. I chose a gender neutral variant since I'm nonbinary. Though when I was originally contemplating this name last year, I was searching general Old Norse words to use to make a name. Like, "Loki's wolf" or "Loki's fire," for example. Ultimately, I felt that I could never live into any of those names, so denoting the established relationship made the most sense. That said...one of the names I originally considered was Lokavísi, which means "Loki's Prince." Being transmasc, I quite liked the softer masculine term. The second the idea popped into my head Loki got all silly. Like He took my hand to kiss it and dramatically say, ~*♡My prince....♡*~ while fluttering His eyelashes. (That is typed as correctly as possible, lol.) But as much of a reaction as it got and as much as it gave me some gender euphoria, I still felt like giving myself a royal title felt presumptuous.

Cut to a few days ago when Loki and I started talking about family, and when he said my name (Rory, which I chose as part of my transition) it sort of hit different? I can't really explain it that well. It made me feel good to hear him say it, but he's said it before. There was nothing remarkably different in the circumstances of our conversation from previous ones. I just noticed a positive feeling within myself when he said it. I brought it up and he starting asking if I'd prefer another name like Tim or Boozlebub. (Yes, that is a name he said, and yes, that is how it was said/spelled. No, he did not misspeak "Beelzebub.") Anyway, in talking about names he said he liked me thinking of myself as His Prince. When I asked why he said, and I'm paraphrasing, that such a title still denotes lineage (being His child, if he is a King) while possessing power. Inherited power that, as a child of His, I am able to (or already) possess. He also reminded me that Rory means "red king" - I already "chose royalty" years ago.

So here I am now, typing this, to say that I might change it. And, returning to the words and names I looked up originally, I looked up the meaning again. The website I found some words from listed "vísi" as the Old Norse for "prince." I recognize subtler meanings can get lost in translation, especially with old languages, so I looked it up on other sites. From what I can tell, it's related to the Old Norse adjective víss, meaning "known" or "wise." The more precise definition for vísi was poet, leader, or chieftain. Visir means king, so also a leader, and as the weaker masculine nomative vísi would then be prince. If I understood everything correctly, anyway. Please feel free to point out any errors!

But this extra little bit of knowledge really intensifies the point, I think. He wants me to recognize the wisdom (and the power that comes from it) that comes from within myself and from my family of the Jarnviðr (aka the Ironwood), and make it known - show others that I possess it, that I know who and what I am, and am not afraid to be just that and utilize the power given to me. That allows me to be a great leader if in no other way than leading by example in how I live my life. As He said, I already chose leadership with my name anyway. But as Lokavísi, I would be doing so while acknowledging my relationship with him. It still feels intimidating to try to live into that name. I'm not just putting myself on the line - I risk smeering His name, too, if I chose to claim it and prove to be a shit leader. Though again, as He said, I already claimed leadership in my name, and I know He's gonna be a part of my life and leadership anyway. So is it really that scary to take on that name that I could already maybe be sort of living into anyway? I guess it's really not.

So yeah. That's probably change. And that's why. Not that I'm saying all this to justify the change to you. I don't care about that, lol. I wanted to share because our conversation and what came of it was so meaningful to me, and if it in any way resonates with others, I'd like to share that you all. I hope Loki's wisdom blesses you all ❤️

EDIT: It's not Old Norse. It's Old Icelandic. My bad!

#thank you reading and indulging me #i cannot believe i found this gif it is perfect xD #upg #big upg #big feelings #names #loki #norse loki #loki deity #lokean #heathen #heathenry #deity work #deity relationships

12 notes · View notes

ashcupofthea · 5 months ago

Text

3. Birds of a feather

I don't know how to feel about this chapter,I'm in a bit of hurry but I wanted to update by the end of this day on Tumblr as well. So in the next few days I will definitely review it. :) Thank you for all the support

It was already afternoon when Isla, riding her horse, left the castle. Zelda had not had lunch with her that day,she was probably still doing research with the help of the two scientists. The cool air lashed her face as she galloped,determined to find some peace away from the oppressive walls of the kingdom,heading toward her destination.

She rode through the forests and hills of Hyrule, pushing her horse toward the village of Rito. The road was familiar, and her hands clung firmly to the reins as she retraced the paths she had crossed with Kael.

Finally, as the lights of the village appeared on the horizon, Isla's heart grew lighter. She needed to talk to someone who knew her pain and understood her past.

Revali, now an archery master known for his skill and grace, was a man of extraordinary talent and determination. His slender figure and silvery feathers shone in the moonlight, a symbol of elegance and strength.

Isla recalled how, after the death of their shared master, Kael, Revali had become a constant presence in her life. The two had found comfort in each other and developed a deep bond while maintaining a relationship of good friends and, perhaps, something more. At this moment the only one who could offer her comfort at that difficult time.

By the time Isla let go of the reins of her royal horse, the sky was full of stars. The Rito village was animated by a serenity that contrasted sharply with her inner turmoil. Climbing the endless stairs of the village,she greeted the now familiar faces of the Rito people who had seen her numerous times before until she reached the nest of the future champion.

Revali,who was cleaning his weapon after a long day of training, became aware of an intrusive presence and quickly abandoned his work. He soon recognized the figure and immediately greeted her with a surprised expression that soon turned to concern.

“Isla? What brings you here at this hour? It's been a few days since your last visit...admit it, you can't go long without seeing the talented Rito?” he joked.

Isla,ignoring Rito's humor stepped forward “Revali, I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

Revali looked at her carefully, noting the obvious sign of concern in her eyes. “Sure, come on in.” He invited her to sit by the lit fire, which illuminated the room with a warm, welcoming light.

She sat down, as Revali prepared an herbal tea, his movement elegant and confident. “Tell me what happened,” he said, handing a cup of hot tea to Isla. “You look upset.”

Isla took the cup from Revali's wings and sipped some , the warmth soothing her pain, and then began to speak with her voice trembling slightly. “My father ... wants me to step aside from the confrontation with Ganon. He wants to arrange a marriage with a nobleman from another family. He told me that my role is only to ensure the continuity of the dynasty. Despite everything i have done to help, despite my training, it doesn't count for anything.”

Revali listened carefully, his piercing gaze trying to understand the weight of Isla's words. “And how do you feel about this?” he asked, his tone gentle but incisive.

Isla lowered her gaze, tears threatening to well up again.

“I feel ... like I've failed at everything. I spent years trying to prove myself, training and doing everything that was asked of me. But none of that matters. My father sees me as nothing more than a means to a political alliance.”

Revali approached, laying a comforting wing on Isla's shoulder. “It is not true that you have failed. Remember what Kael used to tell us, true worth is not just in the powers you possess or the titles you bear. Kael believed in you and taught you to be more than what others see.”

At the mention of that name,memories of Kael began to flood back into her mind “I miss him so much...I wish I could have spent more time with him,hearing him talk about his life,he did a lot for us,even though we were still kids.”

“It's true,Kael left us a legacy more precious than you can imagine,” Revali said,with a nostalgic smile. “Training with him was not just to perfect fighting techniques, but to teach us to follow our hearts. And you did just that,you were not wrong to step forward to help Hyrule.”

Isla lifted her gaze,finding her determination in Revali's words. “You're right,I have to stop crying,I can't act like a child all the time...” Isla collapsed on Revali's chest surrounded by her wings,to find more comfort,the cups now empty and abandoned beside their bodies.

“However Zelda should come and visit The Elder Kahn,as you know we are looking for people who can pilot the Divine Beasts and we have yet to find the knight who exorcises evil..." Revali interrupted her by exalting her personality “Well the princess had better choose me,as I am the best among our soldiers” Isla mocked him “ all right all right as you wish,I hope I can sneak into the expedition to return as well,now it is a matter of weeks,first we will head into the domain of the Zora and the city of the Goron.”

By now it was late at night when after hours of chatting between the two of them,Isla ended up falling asleep thanks to the newfound feeling of peace,so Revali gently lifted her up and laying her on his shoulders took flight toward the castle. As gracefully as he moved through the sky, once they reached the balcony of the princess's room,Revali laid her on the bed, making sure she was comfortable and warm. The feathers of his cloak rested gently on her, a gesture of tenderness that reflected their special bond.

Isla awoke for a moment, looking at Revali with a faint smile. “Thank you,” she murmured, the words full of gratitude.

Revali smiled softly at her, stroking her forehead. “Rest, Isla. In a few hours the sun will rise.”

With these words, Revali silently drifted away, leaving Isla in a peaceful sleep. The moon and stars shone through the window, and the night brought with it a promise of new beginnings and hope. Although the future was uncertain, Isla knew she could count on Revali and herself to face the challenges ahead.

5 notes · View notes

mitsukibh · 1 year ago

Text

hi it's me again i'm back. let's plot asap~

you may also know me as dasom's mun...here with a second muse that i always told myself wouldn't happen but no sana, no life. i wrote her bio first, so it's a bit more fleshed out than my app. but as always, tldr and some plot bunnies under the cut. feel free to give this post a nice ♡ and i'll be right over to your dms (discord is also available if that's easier)!

tw: kidnapping, death

background

mitsuki takes up the good ‘ol cyclamen canon: once a promising heir to house of gladiolus, now lives in exile

her parents, high ranking knights themselves, raised her up to be the most skilled of knights with the intention of plotting to make her the next proclaimed heir

as soon as she was able to hold a sword, she was trained to wield it

she lived in seclusion, training day and night, knowing nothing but was told to her by her parents. so up until her qualification test, she truly believed that she was set to inherit a great house of powerful knights, but wasn't allowed to until she could prove herself (you can imagine the embarrassment she felt to learn that that wasn't the case)

she was quick to catch on to the situation and channeled her feelings of hurt and betrayal into her test and passed within her first try. she was praised as a prodigy and granted the title of a 1st class knight

from this point on, mitsuki becomes a more active puppet in her parents’ game, using her age to her advantage and getting closer to the 2 gladiolus children

while she didn’t technically know any of the details of the plan, she still assisted her parents in obtaining the information to put the plan into motion. then she turned a blind eye, following along with whatever her parents had in store (read: she’s just as awful and selfish)

overtime she was promoted to the rank of captain and was even gaining more influence and support as the next proclaimed heir by peers. the only thing stopping the kurokawa’s was the second born/acting heir

and so, another plan to “remove” their current obstacle was currently in motion (presumably worse than the first, considering he was no longer a child) until an unseen complication appeared: the first born was found and announced his return home

one by one, their support grew scarce and quickly dwindled, afraid of the rotten truth of his disappearance coming to light. eventually, however, the kurokawa’s were betrayed and one of their former followers sang to the gladiolus house heads like a bird. after a thorough investigation, they were sentenced to death by execution

they were insistent that mitsuki was innocent and uninvolved, thus her life was spared. however, due to her family’s crimes, she was stripped of her titles and banned from the house of gladiolus, forced to live in exile

she is generally unmotivated now and just wants to live quietly, not attracting any attention to herself

works as a server at the moon tavern to earn some living wages, but generally helps tend to the landlord’s farm land every now and then to show appreciation for him taking her in despite how her circumstances may affect his standing with house of gladiolus

potential plots/connections

natural enemy: she’s selfish and needs someone to blame aside from herself. she’s bitter towards house of gladiolus and anyone affiliated

secret garden: someone who snuck into the kurokawa household when she trained as a child

journey to the past: they once shared the field as fellow gladiolus knights, so you believe that there was more to the story than what was whispered amongst the house of gladiolus

toxic: your muse wants to take advantage of mitsuki’s anger and overthrow the houses with her formidable skills

it’s my first time making an attempt at a potentially darker muse so bare with me pls LOL more ideas will probably come through brainstorming im sure

#bhrp:intro #sorry this was so delayed i ended up catching a cold :(

3 notes · View notes

quaddmgd · 1 year ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Crystal

So today (August 25th) marks one year since I started playing Cyberpunk 2077 and created Crystal. A year is a really long time for me to still play the same singleplayer game with no subsequent playthroughs. Things like that don't happen often, and Crystal means a world to me, so why not ramble for a bit about my memories, feelings towards the game and other stuff. Keep in mind, it's nothing more than a journal entry. Unless you know me a bit better than a typical mutual, you won't find anything of value here.

[VERY LONG POST AHEAD]

Long time ago...

I was really hyped about the game before its release in December 2020, my s/o even more than me. There were some signs that it's going to turn out disappointing, but we were keeping our hopes up. Alas, came the release date, the game hit headlines due to it's poor technical state and some broken promises. We were very upset, especially since all we had to play it on was Xbox One and low-spec by today's standards PCs. First updates showed that CDPR has much more to fix than we expected, so our hype has slowly died down.

Since then, I played through Cruelty Squad, Red Dead Redemption 2, multiple Yakuza, Devil May Cry and Resident Evil games, and I couldn't care less about the game at the start of 2022.

Why I got the game?

I only purchased Cyberpunk 2077 in May-June 2022, along with Kao The Kangaroo (2022) which, to be honest, was the main attraction for me. Both games were physical Xbox releases and I only was hyped to play Cyberpunk thanks my to lil bro, who has finished the game twice, and showed me this trailer with a beautiful cover of Never Fade Away - a song very in-line with my music taste.

Speaking as a seasoned video editor, the trailer was masterfully realized, with multiple great cuts showing off the diverse cast and some of the action. Editing, music and the scenes they chose made the entire trailer feel more like a tribute video - obviously this was made with love.

Now, I played The Witcher 3, and I knew that this game will require time and dedication from me - something I couldn't afford at the time. And despite hearing about the next gen patch (update 1.5) bringing the game to a state it should've been released in, I remained skeptical about it being good. No offense, but people (especially on Twitter) tend to overreact and talk about stuff they know nothing about. Even with recent title releases, folks just assume the latest patch made them better and fixed important issues. But then you sit with the game and a proper frame rate analysis is enough to prove such reports to be false.

My life in corpo

Before we get to August 2022, I want to provide some more context regarding the state I was in. I was working a piss-poor corpo job, which was gradually eating away my soul for longer than I'd like to admit. It wasn't fulfilling and it was (and probably still is) full of ungrateful pricks, that were coming up with issues to justify their payrolls, only to send QA on us to not detect any issues mentioned. To keep it brief, it was a very hostile work environment, that was treating people like garbage. But hey, at least they were smiling, right?

Come summer 2022, I was feeling like a shell of a human being, and I'm happy that fate decided that it's time for me get out and take care of myself. I'm not sure where would I be right now if I didn't.

So, my time at the job was coming to an end and I couldn't give less of a fuck about looking for another one. I needed some well-deserved vacation. I was supposed to work until August 31st and during these last few days I was trying to take it really easy.

Still the work was going as usual, so despite of having only few days left, my mental and physical state was as shitty as before. After each remaining day I was a walking corpse, drinking coffee at 10pm to squeeze these additional two hours from a day and try to enjoy some of my hobbies before going to sleep and repeating the cycle.

Starting the playthrough

My job is the reason why my memory is hazy on how I decided that it's time to start Cyberpunk 2077, but it's possible that it was my s/o that encouraged me to do it. She surely wanted to see the character creator with her own eyes, and was always interested in me creating OCs - something I wasn't doing often back then.

So, on August 25th 2022, I started playing Cyberpunk 2077, knowing nothing about the lore, with a sole intention of creating my character and seeing what happens. It was already late and my entire evening was sponsored by coffee, but whatever.

Crystal/Valerie/V

I'm not really sure how long it took me to create Crystal, but I spent an ungodly amount of time on perfecting her looks. I wanted her to look badass and beautiful, maybe end up being a cooler version of me. While I don't think I based her off my looks, my partner noticed that we have similar jawlines and hairstyles (well, I'm a natural blonde, which later I consciously reflected on her while creating her flashback version).

Needless to say, I instantly fell in love with her. And I know I wouldn't create a female character I wouldn't wanna date :>, but I really mean it. She was, and still is, simply perfect.

Her name was Crystal since the moment I was adding finishing touches (like makeup and tattoos), but I wasn't planning on giving her a standalone story. She was supposed to be V, with her name later revealed to be Valerie - a name I really like the sound of, and it fits her nicely. Still, in my mind her name was Crystal - and I have no idea why... she just looks like Crystal.

So here I was with my nomad V, ready to play through the prologue and possibly the rest of the game.

Playing through the game

My first evening of playing ended on me visiting Wakako (I don't even remember the reason you are supposed to go there tbh but if you played, you know these are still introductory quests) and photographing the hell out of C. My lesbian ass couldn't even be bothered to change FOV (and back then I couldn't really see the issue with default FOV screenshots - it took me months to adjust my eyes tbh) but she looked so badass. The photo mode, for industry standards, isn't that bad too, so I was really hyped to play the game, meet more people and shoot pics. While I already loved her friendship with Jackie and the way CDPR handled introduction to some of the cast, I wasn't sold on the story yet.

some of pics made on the first night :>

Then on the next day I went through The Heist and Love Like Fire, and learned that my actions as Johnny led to 2023 Night City Holocaust. Everyone who played through these quests know how full of events and emotions they are. It was 3/4am on Friday (technically Saturday) night, mind you, and I still was living mostly off coffee. That's a lot to take in for a tired mind and in some way it might have helped me immerse in Crystal's position even more. After waking up as her, with Jackie dead, and a parasite in my head that actively wants me to join him, I was just as clueless as to what the fuck happened. All I knew was that she/we need to survive. I can't let her/us die.

Let me tell you, waking up in her apartment, to the original version of Never Fade Away on the radio, was one of the most powerful moments in the game. To me, it has become a theme song for the rest of the playthrough. Leaving the apartment after getting some irl sleep was just as powerful.

the first time C left her apartment after Jackie's death and Johnny's flashback

The playthrough was going alright and I was hooked. I don't think there are many things worth talking about here. One thing worth mentioning is that I was starting to feel a strong connection with Crystal - something I've never felt to such an extent in any game. Maybe it's my background in corpo, which was only coming to an end. Or maybe I subconsciously designed her to help me with some of identity issues I had back then. I will never know for sure, but either way, she has helped me. She was exactly who I wanted her to be, who she wanted herself to be and was constantly brave and punk about it. I was feeling a growing mix of immersion and adoration as I progressed through the game.

And progress through the game I did! I finished plenty of gigs/ncpd jobs and all available side quests before starting the last mission chain (or so I thought - in the end I totally missed the vending machine one and the entirety of Kerry's questline lmao). During this time I was put out of misery of working my job, each day feeling more alive than the last, playing more and more hours of Cyberpunk 2077, shooting many pictures, enjoying my time in Night City and being Crystal.

yeah it might be using default fov but it's still one of my favorite shots

Last Tapeworm, Chipping In and dying

To me, Cyberpunk 2077 was at its best when it was focusing on the relationship between V and Johnny. Last part of Tapeworm was a very powerful moment. There's no way I'll ever forget the conversation she had with Johnny in that apartment. Going from a foe that actively eating your life away, to possibly the only person that's ready to sacrifice their life to save yours, Johnny and his redemption arc are some of the biggest highlights of the game.

The conversation was of course followed by a side quest sequence started with Chipping In, with another memorable scene at Johnny's grave. Seeing how far we've come together, how many people we met, how often we were agreeing with each other - it was like talking to a friend who was right by your side for every important event in your life. And to think that only few days ago I was watching him trying to smash her head against the window...

side quests really were the best part of the story

It's hard to say which moment was more impactful, but for me it all clicked just after the Tapeworm cutscene. If I remember it right, I spent a few minutes more in this apartment block, staring away at the sunset, listening to waves breaking Pacifica's silence. Not even sure if I'll manage to save Crystal, I wasn't ready to finish it anytime soon. I still had a lot to do and it took me an additional day to finish everything and start Nocturne OP55N1, but I was looking at the game differently than before.

It might sound dramatic, but I mean it. For the remaining duration of the game, each time I didn't hear any music, it was just silence of a big city dying from heatstroke and sandstorms, echoing conversations with people I met during my journey, and uncertainty, if I'll even make it out alive in the end. Unfortunately, I can't convey it any better, but it has to do with the atmosphere of this city and CDPR's natural talent for creating gray characters, which Cyberpunk 2077 is full of, and last but not least, my connection to Crystal.

Nocturne OP55N1

So the time has come for me to start the last mission sequence and I knew that it might go bad. The moment I was warned that it's a point of no return, I backed out and went for a walk around the city. Don't know if it was scripted, but the weather was overcast and NC was covered in fog. In my experience it's such a rare occurrence, that either I was "lucky" or it was planned. I visited Judy (VCrystal's sweetheart) for the last time, disappointed by the lack of new dialogues to start, and went back to Megabuilding H10 to see a cute heart made out of consumables by her. I went to sleep in my own bed, probably for the last time.

During my last journey to Embers, Major Crimes by Health started playing on the radio, and I got emotional. Not often games make me cry, but I really didn't want Crystal to die, or my journey to end. It really felt like I was saying goodbye to everyone and not going back.

just look at the weather - shot outside of Embers, before starting Nocturne Op55N1

In the end I managed to go through the Embers section just fine, but very stressed. Then, after suffering through heartbreaking moments at Viktor's Clinic, I got to the rooftop.

Now, I'm not really sure how much time I spent there. Seems like an eternity, looking back on it. No choice felt right (and in the end, none was perfect), but I had to choose something. Unable to decide, I did something I really hate doing - I looked up endings to see which one will let me live happily with Judy... or survive at the very least.

While I didn't know it yet, I chose the happiest ending of the bunch. All I knew is that Crystal will be able to leave Night City with Judy - I didn't know that it'll be impossible to remove the chip in Mikoshi and that there's hope of achieving it in Arizona. Yes, I chose The Star ending.

I still was on the edge of my sit and really scared for C, but deep down, I knew that I probably won't get another chance to mess it up.

The ending was bittersweet and I got an instant hangover. I needed some time to come to terms with it, and make peace with me not getting the happy ending. In the end I managed to create a brief scenario where that guy Panam knows somehow manages to remove the chip, and Crystal and Judy got to live happily ever after.

I beat the game on September 4th.

Feelings Feelings Feelings

See, there's a reason I'm talking about the ending and my feelings about it in such detail. I really fell in love with Crystal. After all, it's the first time I got so immersed into a character and I can't put my finger on why exactly.

Maybe it's because it's the prettiest character I have ever created, maybe I just saw parallels in our stories or feelings, maybe I subconsciously made up all the connections in my head. Meh, it's probably a bit of everything, on top of a really good story, even if most of it is hidden in side content.

The thing is, I was in the right place, at the right time and, like I said, it all just clicked.

Back then, I was tired, angry, feeling exploited and robbed of soul. She was there to help me stop thinking about it, get revenge in a way, even if on a fictional corporation, however dumb it might sound. And the more I was thinking about her, dressing her up in cool clothing (bra + edgerunner combo ftw), the more I strived to be like her. I learned to love myself a bit more, I started dressing up for myself again, putting some makeup on just to stare at the mirror and enjoy the end result, maybe even shoot some selfies. It's almost like, on top of everything I already said, I was trying to express myself through her, which has in return influenced me. I hope that makes sense.

Crystal Hartley

Now, it took me some time to create her own story and separate her from V. And I wouldn't probably do it if it wasn't for my s/o. She was already working on her OCs story, and after many tries she finally talked me into writing my girl. The last modification date of the document with the initial version of the story is February 25th - exactly 6 months after starting the game. Since then, I made some changes and the end result can be seen here. It helped me further resonate with her and she didn't have a deadly chip inside anymore, at the cost of her not getting to know Johnny. She remained a warrior, a true badass who's not scared of anything.

Honestly she was and still is inspiring me. Being it her as V or real Crystal I wrote a few months back, she suffered hardships, she had her all-time low moment not that long ago, but she recovered and she always stands brave against all odds - knowing that in the end everything will turn out just fine.

For now, C has got some closure. She's living in Night City, she has a loving and beautiful girlfriend she's thinking about all the time, they're still doing gigs and getting in trouble together <3 While she still recovers from what happened in her nomad family, she has Elegy, Misty, Claire and Saul to help her deal with it. She's in a good place right now.

Other girls

Some time ago I made EV, a girl that was originally a Cyberpunk version of my Evie from Red Dead Online, albeit I made her personality a polar opposite to Evie's. I don't have a lot about her, really - she's beautiful, photogenic, conveys vibes the best out of all of my OCs. She's probably going to end up as my canon V. She and Johnny are a match made in heaven... or hell. Actually if I put them together in the same body Night City might end up in flames.

Then there's Thalia. A girl I initially only mentioned as a friendly gang member in Crystal's mega lore post. She wasn't hanging around with Crystal's group of friends, but they got really close after getting to know each other during a party. Officially, she sacrificed herself to save Crystal and the rest when they got overrun by enemies. She did survive, with help of [REDACTED] and is looking for Crystal in Night City to reunite with her and [REDACTED]. Hopefully they meet soon! It'll probably bring some unpleasant memories back, but in the end Crystal will reunite with Thalia and, with Elegy, they'll make a dream team.

Some stats!

Why not wrap it up with some interesting data!

Since I started Cyberpunk 2077:

I got all the achievements and I intend on doing the same for Phantom Liberty

according to Xbox I played the game for 268 hours* **

I made 3405 captures, taking up a whopping 36 GB of space*

421 of these captures were made during my initial playthrough

* - at the time of writing ** - including time I was afk

Conclusion

So... I just wanted to post some thoughts about Cyberpunk 2077 and, especially, Crystal. Going from a game I wasn't even that stoked to play, to an ongoing hyperfixation, that has helped me through tough times and still influences me to this very day! I even made some internet friends!

When I was working on a standalone story for Crystal, I decided that her birthday is the day I first played the game - 25th August... today.

Happy birthday, Crystal <3

#oc: crystal hartley #text.qd

6 notes · View notes