going to drown in my own tears

Reasons Why Beauty and the Beast was Amazing

*SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY*

•Prince Adam’s makeup tho

•in the prologue, Prince Adam is dancing with every woman in the room, but at the end of the movie he is only dancing with Belle and can’t even take his eyes off her

•"A certain je ne sais quoi" “I don’t know what that means” Gaston, you’re French!

•The Bimbettes

•"It’s never gonna happen ladies"

•Belle invents the washing machine

•Maurice freaking out over Chip

•Plumette and Lumiere’s love for each other

•Belle doesn’t even get to eat any of the food

•When she goes in the West Wing and looks at the painting, the Beast has clawed over his father’s and his own face, but left his mother’s in tact *my heart*

•The entire Gaston song

•"I USE ANTLERS IN ALL OF MY DECORATING!!“

•"it’s just occurring to me that I’m illiterate, and never actually spelled it out loud beforeeeee"

•"I had an expensive education”

•"Romeo and Juliet is my favorite play" *DRAMATIC EYE ROLL AND SCOFFS*

•"Go back to the war. The guns, explosions. The widows!“

•The Beast just pelting a massive snowball at Belle’s face

•"You’re village sounds awful”

•The yellow dress

•"Can someone be happy when they aren’t truly free"

•"ILL FOOL MYSELF SHE’LL WALK RIGHT IN AN BE WITH ME FOR EVERMORE" *drowns in my own tears*

•"There’s a beast running wild there’s no question. But I fear the wrong monster’s released"

•"Mr. Potts" omg

•Mrs Potts totally supports LaFou and his conflicting thoughts on Gaston’s behavior

•Belle came back for the Beast!!!!

•Agatha was the Enchantress what?!

•The entire transformation!

•Belle looks into the Prince’s eyes and still sees him and just kNOWS

•Lumiere and Plumette reuniting

•"Turn back into a clock"

•LaFou and Stanley dance together at the end and my little gay shipper heart jumps for joy

•the growl™

5
Why the Types Will Die Alone

ISTJ: You were somehow roped into a relationship once but ended that nonsense right quick once you realized they wanted to talk about their feelings. You live a lonesome, tranquil life by the river now, whittling calculators and stock portfolios from driftwood. They are your only friends. 

ESTJ: You had a great life, perfect partner, and tons of friends for many years. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Jk, your best friend and the rest of the Senate stabbed you repeatedly in the back and you bled out alone on the floor. “Et tu, Brute?” were your final woe-begotten words you tyrannical dictator, you. 

ENFJ: Your partner got sick of trying to decrypt your real feelings about everything every other second. It’s okay though, you still had a pretty fulfilling life never saying no to any person’s request. You eventually died when your body spontaneously combusted from the stress of trying to make everybody happy. 

INFJ: You tried to act ethereal and distant for so long that nobody wanted to put in the effort to get to know you, Star Man. Except for Linda. But once she saw that all of your “deep, mystical” thoughts were actually just crippling anxiety about people’s approval of you, she jumped that ship pretty quickly. 

ESTP: You took all of your friends skydiving and pushed all their scared, pansy asses out of the plane as a practical joke. You turned around and saw the parachutes they were supposed to be wearing still hanging on the wall, but you didn’t think much of it. Anyways, you convinced the pilot to do a sick flip between some buildings and died in a fiery explosion, just like that old, Romanian woman said you would. 

ISTP: You were too busy being the douchey frat boy bully trope in every teen movie that you forgot to make friends. As you lay dying in a pile of cigarettes and empty liquor bottles, you smile, believing wholeheartedly that Fonzie would have been proud of you. He wouldn’t. 

ISFJ: You were baking a casserole but got distracted by youtube tutorials on how to make friends and burned your house down with you in it. You could’ve escaped, but…there’s people outside…so like, screw that, y'know? 

ESFJ: Your son got so tired of you telling him how to live his life and inserting yourself into his romantic life that he snapped at the “Please Date My Son” mixer you threw for him and came at you with that expensive bottle of Chardonnay you got for yourself while you scrutinized all of the potential daughter-in-laws. None of the girls came to your rescue, as they had recently learned that you’d been gossiping about every single one of them since you’d met them. Let’s be real though, you always knew patricide was the only way you’d go out. 

INFP: You drowned your first partner in the bathtub that you filled with your own tears because they had a weird inflection in the way they said hi to you that one time in August 2011 and you never really got over that. All of your friends got so exhausted trying to console you that when you got trapped in ISFJ’s burning house while helping them make the casserole, they all just assumed your bitter passive-aggressive inferences to the fire’s failure to be a good friend would save you. They did not. 

ENFP: You couldn’t stand the idea of being normal, so you moved to eastern Europe to be different and start a charity or something, you’ll figure out the details later it’s whatever, but you forgot to mention it to, like, all of your friends. Also, you forgot your passport. And your keys. Also, you left the stove on. 

ISFP: Everybody got tired of you staring languidly at the rain so they left you. Like, we get it, you’re deep and thoughtful. Also, they couldn’t stand that you were still into SuperWhoLock, like, that stopped being popular 6 years ago, please move on. Anyways, your pet horse gets so tired of you talking to him about your feelings that he kicks you in the chest, killing you instantly. 

ESFP: You told all your friends you were too busy for them and couldn’t commit to the friendship and floated to some neon rave party and thought trying ecstasy would be a fun experience. You tried proving you were a badass to the bouncer and took like seven and pretty much died on the spot ‘cause your pansy ass would barely have been able to handle one. 

ENTP: You pitted all of your friends against each other to see what would happen for like, the twelfth time, so they all turned on you and forced you to work an isolated office job. They watched through a two-way mirror as you went insane and chewed off your own fingers. They felt that justice was thoroughly served and so do I. 

INTP: You emerged from your garage after weeks of isolation to find that everybody is gone, as they went to the Florida Keys for vacation, but didn’t invite you because they thought you were too busy working on your project that has no real world value. Instead, you assume it’s the zombie apocalypse and retreat back into your garage indefinitely. You die when the roof collapses on you while you’re eating Flaming Hot Cheetos. 

ENTJ: Your coup fails because none of your friends liked the way you kept bossing them around and the government publicly executes you for high treason. In your last moments, you feel a strange sense of camaraderie with ESTJ’s fate, but it doesn’t last long because you could have done waaaaay better than them if you were in that situation. 

INTJ: You’re too proud to admit that you feel things on occasion and shove them all down until the emotions rot away your insides and you eventually have an ulcer, a stroke, and a heart attack all at once in a GameStop parking lot and die, wishing you could have told just one more person why they were wrong about something.

Some time ago I made a post about how Aristotle and Dante has ruined me. But you know what? I lied. I fucking lied. You haven’t experienced true pain if you haven’t read The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. I am fucking serious this time. This book is fucking torture worse than a century in the fucking underworld. I am choking and drowning in a sea of my own fucking tears. I never even knew I could get so emotional over fucking Greek mythology. When I die, bury my ashes with this fucking book.
If you haven’t read it yet, please, do yourself a favour and go do it.

swashbucklery  asked:

Kara and Lena, making out on top of that desk in her office

It’s been a long week.

It drags at her heels, weighs down her cape as Kara makes her way from the DEO bunker back towards National City. In the distance, the lights of the city guide her way, and she’s grateful for it as sleep is calling her name.

She just has to get home, and she adjusts her trajectory a little to the south as she gets closer, aims for her neighborhood and her bed and the angle of the city shifts, rearranges itself into a different view and the L-Corp building is there, the sign neon-brighter than all the rest. She doesn’t decide to go so much as she just does, a slight arc around a cluster of buildings downtown and then she’s landing on Lena’s balcony.

It’s not the most graceful of entrances.

Okay, she stumbles, but she’s tired, and, more than that, she’s messy with eagerness. She hasn’t been in her life for days, not at work, not at home or the bar, not with the people she cares about who don’t fight by her side, because someone thought it would be a good idea to sell captured gil’dishpans on the black market without a clue as to who or what the alien portal creatures were. But as the events of the week start to fall away to a memory, she wants back into her life. She wants

Her less-than-graceful landing gives her arrival away.

Inside, Lena turns in her chair, sets down the tablet she was reading from, and at the sight of her the weight of Kara’s exhaustion and longing twists in on itself, rearranges at an elemental level, and something of what she’s feeling she finds reflected back in the look painted across Lena’s face.

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Broken Dreams

MASTERLIST

A/N: This was requested by my lovely @lovethatmendeskid and I just loved the idea. I’m super nervous, legit shaking. I really hope you like it!

Word count: 3,502

I was sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, staring over at the full plate of - by now – very cold food. Food that – once again – weren’t going to be eaten.

I’d been sitting here for hours, but I stopped counting exactly how many that had passed by now. The more seconds that flew by, the more it stung in my heart.

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The moon signs when they’re emotional

Aries: I’M GOING TO PUNCH A WALL!!!!!! WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO BE OUT TO GET ME???? CAN’T I LIVE??? I’M SO UPSET AND WHY DOES NO ONE CARE??? MY EMOTIONS ARE THE #1 PRIORITY RN!!!! *blames someone else for their problems* (5 minutes later is over it)

Taurus: why life wHY?????? I didn’t want to mOVE today let alone CRY *crawls into a hole full of blankets and sobs into a bag of chips*

Gemini: oh lol whatever idk why my eyes are wet but I’m just gonna ignore this and hope it’ll go away tomorrow

Cancer: I just love to fEeEeEeL things :(((((( I’m going to cry and think about the reasons why I’m crying and maybe look at old pictures and write a poem and cry more *eats an entire carton of ice cream*

Leo: I can’t cRy in fRonT of PEOPLE!!! I have too much pRiDe!!!!! *throws head back and struts their stuff* (10 minutes later they have a dramatic emotional show just for the benefit of everyone else)

Virgo: am I actually feeling this or am I just projecting my feelings into this moment so that I can get them out? what do these feelings mean? what does the fact that I’m questioning my feelings mean? is that another feeling? is life even real? I hate myself I’m so INCOMPETENT *hysterical crying*

Libra: nOOOOO this means cONFLICT!!!!!! I can’t have this in my life!!!!!! maybe if I hold this in nothing will happen. I definitely won’t bother anyone else about it because that would be tOO MUCH FOR ME I can’t put burden on others

Scorpio: *has straight face* this is just another case of the darkness inside my soul

Sagittarius: haha WHATEVER!!!!!! gonna go run away from this bc who needs this kind of drama in life?!?!?! not me!!!!!!!! I’m fiiiiiine those aren’t tears it’s just a piece of dust in my eye

Capricorn: I need…to pull…myself…together….must…look…like…everything…is…normal… *has mental breakdown alone*

Aquarius: emotions???? I don’t have emotions lol what are those??? I’m aBOVE that so I’m just going to focus on the fact that society is so corrupted or something!!! there are way more important issues that MY feelings

Pisces: I…just CAN’T deal with life anymore…I need to eScApE I’m drowning in my own tEARS *sobs*

Coffee Shop Soundtrack

Pairing: Scott McCall x Reader

Warning: Stalkerish (ish), Public sex, oral sex, cursing, filth, sin, NSFW, 18+, Smut

A/N: Absolutely nothing to do with All Time Low’s song, I was just listening to it so why not? Enjoy y’all! I spent so long deciding who to give this imagine to, Scott or Stiles and Ep12 just gave me the Scott feels so !

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines


There he was again, sitting in the same seat that he occupied every day for the last week for over three hours; he’d order four cappuccinos and one latte throughout his time in the wooden seat, and his eyes would either be fixated on the moving cars out of the full length windows or on the staff bustling around behind the counter - his eyes always lingering on your figure longer than the others.

His shaggy brown hair was always in a mess, but he was still undeniably handsome. His deep chocolate orbs would light up when your eyes connected to his, and he’d send a shy, tight-lipped smile your way. You’d blush, looking away or divert your attention to another customer at the till waiting for their order to be taking.

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Most to Least Childish of the Signs

(This is purely based on archetypes, but I suppose you should check your sun/moon sign as those relate to CORE personality in my opinion! Also remember, a lot of these are based on underdeveloped traits of the archetypes.)

Aries: They’re impatient.. very volatile emotions.. very impulsive. Childish because they may be prone to throwing temper tantrums when they don’t get what they want… (probably more calm ones with age, but still big angry babies)

Cancer: They’re emotional… very sensitive to the slightest of hurtful words… CAUTION: may drown in own tears. Childish because they never learned that crying isn’t the way to get what you want in life… (I love Cancers tho so no hate.. I’ll go make you some warm milk)

Pisces: They’re naive… always trusting people who may have the worst intentions… don’t really know how to weigh the pros and cons of their decisions. Childish because they see the world through rose colored glasses… (NO, step away from the van filled with candy.. STOP talking to strangers!)

Libra: They’re fragile… tendency to let others walk all over them… bad at standing up for themselves. Childish because they don’t always know how to protect themselves against the world… (codependency in interpersonal relationships can be like parent and child!)

Scorpio: They’re needy… very manipulative when they feel neglected.. can’t stand feeling alone or unwanted. Childish because even if they try to hide it they require constant nurturing and care from loved ones… (another somewhat codependent vibe)

Leo: They’re selfish… don’t like to share the spotlight… very needy of attention and affection. Childish because they expect to have everybody’s eyes on them and to be adored… (not always very obviously displayed but there’s a vibe)

Sagittarius: They’re careless… very unaware of how their actions affect others… don’t mean to hurt people, but are just oblivious. Childish because they’re blunt and reckless like a kid running it’s mouth or knocking over valuable things… (can you say skinned knees!)

Taurus: They’re stubborn… very set in their ways.. very materialistic at times. Childish because they’d rather starve than eat their vegetables… (figuratively speaking.. although I’m sure some of you do this literally)

Gemini: They’re fickle… always changing their minds about things.. very curious about the world around them. Childish because they’re always sticking their noses where they don’t belong… (or just simply exploring new ideas like a baby crawlin’ around)

Aquarius: They’re rebellious… very unique and quirky… they don’t like authority much and it’s a big deal to them that they have their own identity. Childish because they tend to think they’re more different and special than everybody else… (probably more like a cool, edgy teen than a child honestly)

Virgo: They’re analytical… always cautious and perceptive… very aware of the world around them. Not childish because they’re usually pretty mature even when they’re younger… (that 5 year old that is smarter than you)

Capricorn: They’re practical… very thoughtful and steady types of people… logical and careful about their next move. Not childish because they’re often like tiny adults from a young age, similar to Virgo… (very future oriented little humans)

2

This is actually the most heartbreaking thing ever 💔💔💔💔💔 

They both had baggage and they both wanted to help each other to carry that baggage. 

Now, in the midst of my own struggles, I often compare my self to the vastness of the ocean, the murkiness of the sea. I think of how far down I am sometimes and it terrifies me. I have fought my way to the shore and away from the life I was once drowning in, but there’s still an aching in my chest for the meaning to it all. Tears flow and I can’t hold them back any longer. They flow into a sea of all I’ve been longing for. I take a breath and close my eyes and go back in time. My thoughts are like a storm, a hurricane even. I cling to the shore, to the solid ground I’ve found. I pray I don’t get swept away in all that I know. I’ve been restless for quite sometime now, like I said before it’s like there are waves always breaking somewhere inside of me.
I Love You - AntiSepticEye Imagine

wc: 1,645

prompt: "i love you with all my piece of shit, fucked up heart.“

requests: closed OPEN!

don’t forget to follow, reblog and like ♡


She had grown used to this feeling of absolute worthlessness and loneliness. It wasn’t new to feel unloved, for the thing she loved put her through hell and back on a daily basis. She knew loving him was a death sentence, but she craved the attention he gave her, and even if it wasn’t real love at least it felt like it sometimes.

The other times it was just a waiting game, see how long it took for him to show back up in her life and ruin all the progress that she had made trying to show herself that she didn’t need him. However, she did, and always caved when he opened up his arms with that grin. It filled her up with false hope that maybe he felt the same about her that she did about him, but as she sat here for the third day in a row alone, those hopes left her.

Wrapping the blanket around her tighter, she squeezed her eyes shut and mentally called out to him. She cried out his name, echoing in her brain that she prayed would call to his attention.

"You called, babydoll?” static filled the air as he stepped in front of her, unravelling her from the cocoon she had secured herself into, pulling her into his arms and holding her close to his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, nuzzling her face into his chest. He smelled of blood and felt tense, though he was gradually easing up every second he held his beloved to his chest.

“I know, and I’m sorry, doll,” he sighed, moving one hand up her back to slowly card her hair through his fingers. Every bit of stress drained from his body as he pressed his nose to her hair, inhaling the smell of his own shampoo in her hair. She smelled like every bit of familiarity he had left, like an anchor to the home he always felt was slipping away from him.

Meanwhile, he was everything wrong with her. He was so unfamiliar, pulling her away from everything she knew was safe and right, but at the same time he was everything she ever wanted. He offered her a sense of safety and security, she knew with him that he was the only thing that would ever be able to cause her harm in this world.

‘Where have you been, Anti?“ she choked out, tears filling her eyes, "where have you been for the past days?”

He knew that she didn’t really care where he had been, she just wanted to know why he was leaving her so often. This was one of the times she wanted him to lie to protect her from getting hurt, but he knew that there was a point where he just couldn’t do that anymore.

“I had a job, baby,” Anti’s voice was scratchy and like that of static, however it remained soft, “there was some work I had to take care of, some presences that I’ve had to meet up with. You know how the jobs can get…”

“I do know, but please just stop leaving me,” her voice was absolutely destroyed, for a moment it seemed to be holding up but suddenly it shattered like glass and she just began trembling violently, “I can’t keep living like this, Anti! I try so hard to get over you but then you come back in just when I think I’m getting better and then I just become this dependent mess and I just can’t fucking deal with it anymore!”

The girl was out of breath, her sentence dragging on so long that she had to pause before continuing. Of course, Anti was quick to respond, pushing her back from him while keeping his arms around her waist. He put a cold hand to her cheek, bright green eyes flickering like broken television screens as he tried to read his mess of a lover.

“Doll, breath,” he spoke, body seeming to shift out of place as he glitched in place. Anti seemed like nothing more than a nightmare, a computer virus-like demon that she had been so idiotic to fall in love with. His sweet talk and charm had lead her into a spider web of horror that he didn’t know he had spun.

Perhaps Anti had never meant anything of making her fall in love with him. He didn’t cause this, she had just blindly convinced herself that maybe she could change him for the better or teach the heartless how to love. How foolish, to think that anyone such as him could love her.

How foolish… to think anyone could love her.

“I don’t want to!” she spat back, too much on her mind to think of anything else, “I’m so helplessly in love with you and I can’t help but regret it, because I know you can’t love me back! I know you’re not capable of love, and I know it was fucking stupid of me to think that maybe I was different and maybe I could’ve changed you. I know that I’m no different from anyone that you’ve loved in the past, or maybe even if I am it’s just my unstable behavior. I’m so sorry for the shit I put you through because I just want you to love me back!”

The dark void that consumed the place where Anti’s heart throbbed, absorbing every word that had been thrown out at him. He felt powerless for once in his life, so completely broken down by the words of a hurting girl that he wanted nothing more than to protect.

Some long lost time ago in some long abandoned place, he made some long forgotten promise to a girl that he would protect her from all harm, not knowing that he was just shielding her from everything except for him.

He spoke her name, whispered it so softly and held her so gently so that he wouldn’t make her hurt anymore.

“I love you with all my piece of shit, fucked up heart.”

She didn’t speak, didn’t look at him, didn’t breath, just stared off out the window and listened to the static that surrounded him. It all felt so heavy, this weight baring down on her that she had grown numb to feeling pressure against. The hands and arms tangling her in a cold embrace were barely there, just enough pressure that she knew he was there but not enough to ground her.

He waited for her to say anything, waited for her to say that she loved him too or that she was finally leaving him. He waited for her to scream and lash out. He waited for anything, he was prepared for anything other than the silence that followed his statement. The way it was left hanging in the air, not accepted or denied, it taunted him and he knew that she knew this too.

For he was ready for the words that would eventually pour out of her mouth, he was ready for them to tear him down and make him sob even though he hadn’t felt emotions in a long time. Everything about this silly girl he loved made him feel things he didn’t even know he could. Such guilt and sadness flowed through him when he saw the tears that he caused, but he never did anything about it. He knew sorry didn’t mean anything if he kept doing it, but he kept saying empty promises in a desperate attempt to keep his love safe from getting hurt by him.

However, in an attempt to put her back together he ended up breaking her down. He knew it was getting too late to undo the pain he’d caused, but he would try if she let him. Even a monster like himself couldn’t bear to see those he loved in pain, it was too much for him to handle. The thought of the emotions that would come was almost as terrifying as the lack of it.

Until that wall of silence broke, and his beloved looked him in the eyes with this broken expression. She was smiling, but it was going to shatter if he even took a breath. Despite no longer crying, she looked as if she would completely break down again if he moved a single inch. So he stayed still, kept his eyes locked against hers and just listened for once in his life. He didn’t make an effort to console her, just watched as she closed her mouth and opened it once more to speak.

“You could break my heart into a million tiny pieces and I would just put them back into your hands.”

He wished the silence would come back, because now everything was deafening. Her heartbeat was pounding, a steady thump-thump-thump that held the only rhythm in the mess of sound around him. Thunder crashed from outside as rain forcefully hit the window. His own sound of static was drowned out by the sound of both of their breathing.

Anti pressed his forehead to hers, feeling her legs go weak under her so he pulled her body ever closer to his own. Her eyes stayed on his, dilated pupil consuming every bit of light that radiated off of his body and reflecting the intense pain she was feeling.

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore, my love,” he whispered.

“But what if you do?” her voice betrayed her calm appearance.

“Teach me not to,” Anti pleaded, “please teach me how to keep you safe from myself.”

“I will,” she promised, blinking away tears, “if you promise me that you love me and won’t leave me.”

“I love you more all the stars in the sky, my love. I will never leave you again unless I have no choice, I promise you.”

“I love you too.”

Ideally the plot of Captain America 3 will go something like this:

  • Steve and Sam find Bucky and fix his memories within the first 20 heartfelt minutes
  • Bucky moves in with Steve (for bonus points Steve will tell Bucky all he has to do is shine his shoes and Bucky will laugh and I will drown in my own tears)
  • Steve teaches Bucky how to 21st Century and hilarity ensues
  • Also they get a puppy and name it like Freedom or Liberty or Patriot because Steeeeve 
  • At some point Natasha and Clint come over (“Clint wanted to see the fossil exhibit”) and end up braiding Bucky’s hair
  • Also Tony and Bruce come over to study Bucky’s arm and Bruce tries to be serious and do science but Tony just ends up seeing if he can stick magnets to it (he can)
  • Then Steve and Bucky will go back to the Captain America exhibit and some kids recognize both of them and call them heroes and have them sign autographs for them and Bucky almost cries because he’s so happy to be known as a hero and not a terrorist
Night Terror | Dean Ambrose

Title: Night Terror

Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Reader (also, I guess… sorta jon moxley too idk)

SummaryI woke up and he was screaming, I’d left him dreaming.

I roll over and shake him tightly and whisper, 

If they want you, oh, they’re gonna have to fight me. Oh, fight me

Word Count: 3,550

Warning: Night terrors, PTSD, talk of child abuse, talk of suicide, involuntary domestic violence, sleep disorder, sleepwalking. THERE’S A LOT OF SHIT GOING ON

Tags: @calwitch | @rebelfleur22 | @xfirespritex | @blondekel77 | @abschaffer2 | @alexahood21 | @taryndibiase | @isawthesights | @swedish-strong-style | @wrasslin-rollins | @megnog | @kitkat8 | @ellothelongwaydown | Please let me know if I missed anyone or if you would like to be added to the tag list.

A/N: I don’t feel like this is up to par with what I want to put out, but I’m also in the middle of preparing for a hurricane and i’m very worried about the possible damage that will occur. All the same, I hope you enjoy this piece. I love you guys. (also I did not read through this for typos, I apologize in advance).

Originally posted by toosweetme

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a langst ficlet no one asked for (4/?)

PART ONE    PART TWO    PART THREE

(this entire part will be told in Lance’s point of view and will take place in the moments before he boarded the pod, and while in the pod)

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

But what the hell, right?

Everything around him is a blur. His eyes see him walking, but his legs feel like they’re running. Running miles and miles without a break, his legs unable to keep moving under the stress and ready to…

Fall away.

He feels the cold metal floor beneath him as he falls and with a sudden ‘oof’ his mind seems to calm for a moment. He stands up, looks around, and takes in what he sees. He’s in the pod hangar; a bag is strapped on his shoulder containing what looks to be all his belongings he’s collected (albeit small). He knows what he wants to do. He remembers writing, telling the team about how he felt useless and worthless to them. He remembers packing his bag. He remembers feeling worthless. But it seems, he can’t remember it getting this bad.

In the past, sure he wanted to go home, but it was a dull ache; always shadowed over by ‘oh my fucking god I’m in space how fucking cool is that?!’ it never felt like this. This felt like a fire wrapping around his lungs and drowning him all at once. He doesn’t just want to go home. He needs to go home. He needs to stop feeling like the Earth is crashing around him for one second. He doesn’t know why it hurts so much now. He doesn’t know why he can’t seem to thinks about how far, far, away his mom’s hugs are. And about how far, far away his siblings’ laughs are. And how far, far away his mind seems to be.

All he can think about is that it hurts.

All he can see is the blur of a windshield. All he can hear is the whir of an engine, and the doors of the castle latch opening. All he can feel is the steering wheel under his clenching hands, and the tears he didn’t realize were streaming down his cheeks.

‘Worthless. They didn’t need me. They’ll probably be happy when they wake up and I’m gone. It’s fine. I know this. I just want to be home.’

 

He’s flying, racing through space for what feels like hours and hours. He can’t seem to go fast enough. All the while flying he’s trying to calm his erratic breathing. ‘Don’t want to get home after who-knows-how-long looking like a crazed lunatic’. When he gets home he wants to finally look happy.

 

But, what if they don’t want him there too?

The pod stops. Earlier he had been flying recklessly and quick, rushing to get out of the suffocating castle and away from the people who didn’t want him. Now, the pod was at a dead halt.

‘What if they don’t want me home? What if they’re angry at me for abandoning the family? What if they’re dead? What if the Galra invaded Earth and since I’m a universe away I didn’t know? God, I’m out here now, they definitely won’t let me back in Voltron. I abandoned them. I wasn’t just enough that I had to be a useless tag along, no. I went an abandoned them because I realized how pointless I was to my team. I’m such a fucking waste of space; I just annoy the rest of them until they pay attention to me, and now that I pulled this stunt they’ll all be forced to just accommodate for me leaving them. The least I could’ve done was waited until they found a new paladin to replace me with. Then I could’ve left. What if Zarkon attacks and now since I went and threw a fucking pity party in the middle of space and left they’ll be attacked and won’t be able to form Voltron. I’m such a fucking idiot.’

He puts the pod on auto-pilot and stands up. He grips at his hair while tears stream down his face. His thoughts are a constant barrage of self deprecation and hatred. His breathing quickens again, getting faster and faster. Black dots are starting to come into his vision. A sudden rush of panic and dizziness sends his falling to his knees.

‘Perfect I’m going to die out here of my own fucking stupidity. I just hope they’ll all be safe.’


Lance’s breath is getting faster and faster. He knows he’s been flying for hours. He also knows he hasn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before, which was roughly 9 hours ago. He feels his tears leak onto the cold floor.

The last thing he hears is “Asteroid field located 90 miles ahead. Auto-pilot turned off,” and blackness drowns his vision.

sorry? nope. this was a long one so I hope y’all liked the suffering.

If you try and figure out the rules about creative writing, you’re going to find that established authors and editors often disagree about nuances of the craft. There are, of course, some hard-and-fast rules about punctuation and grammar, but so many rules vary from genre to genre, generation to generation, audience to audience. Sometimes there are rules that boil down, simply, to consistency

So you might even say that you have your own set of writing rules. Each and every author’s rules are slightly unique. That unique set of “rules” is part of what makes up your author’s voice.

So when are the appropriate times to break those rules, your own rules? They happen, don’t they? In my last post, I gave a list of filler words and overused words that you can consider cutting out of your writing to help sharpen it. But everything–even mediocre vocabulary, poor grammar, and repetitive structure–has a place in writing. 

Breaking Your Mold to Write Character Voice

Jordan is an author (hypothetically). She has been writing for years, gotten an English degree, read a zillion books, and written several novel drafts of her own. Over her years of writing, she has finally come into her own voice. When she writes, she no longer feels derivative or inexperienced. It’s freeing and wonderful! 

But there’s one thing that Jordan hasn’t figured out yet…and that’s character voice. Her authorial voice, while wonderful and unique, seeps into the voice of all of her characters. The result is that all of her characters, whether speaking or narrating, sound exactly the same: they sound like her.

Part of what makes a multi-POV novel come to life is variation in character voice. Part of what makes an author’s portfolio stand out is the vast scope of voices their characters use across their works. Part of what sets apart side characters as characters instead of tools for the protagonist or plot devices for the narrative is a unique and compelling voice. 

So how does one accomplish such a thing? 

Well, there are many ways. But today I’m focusing on language and syntax, particularly in the rule-breaking department. 

The first exercise you can do is take a piece of dialogue, preferably just a back and forth between two characters, and write it one way, then switch roles. Have the characters say basically the same thing, but in their own voices. 

Author Voice Conversation

R: Oh. You’re worried about me
E: I am no such thing. Worrying about you sneaking into enemy territory is like…worrying about a fish drowning in the ocean.
R: You sure seem dead set on stopping me from going.
E: We need to come up with a plan. It would be foolish to just waltz into their territory with no idea what we’re doing.
R: You’re really quite cute when you’re worried.
E: You’d like me to be worried, wouldn’t you? Just go. I don’t know what I’m freaking out about, anyway.
R: Me either. Bye.
E: Bye, idiot. Don’t get caught.
R: *sigh* Is that really what you expect of me?

There’s nothing wrong with this conversation at all. But I’m just writing as if I, personally, was speaking. I know what the personality of these characters are, but that isn’t necessarily enough. I’m going to inject a little bit of their own tics, their own backgrounds, into their speech.

Character Voice Conversations

R: Oh. You’re worried about me, aren’t you?
E: Really? Please. I don’t worry about anyone.
R: But you don’t want me to go.
E: I just…think that we need to come up with a plan first.
R: You’re really kinda cute when you’re worried.
E: I’m NOT—Grah! Fine! Go, then. I don’t know why I’m trying to help you, anyway.
R: Neither do I. I sure as hell didn’t ask for it.
E: See ya, then. Try not to get blood on my shirt.
R: Go drown in the tears of your unborn children, Tiger.

And now, roles switched:

E: Heh. You’re…worried.
R: Fuck off. I don’t have energy to waste worrying about you.
E: You want me to stay. Safe.
R: I mean…having a plan would be a good idea, but what in hell do I know? The fuck are you doing?
E: You’ve got some worry on your face.
R: Don’t touch me. Don’t even talk to me. I’m sorry I mentioned anything about a plan.
E: So am I. I’ll bring you skin of an atosh as a trophy.
R: Bye, Tiger. If you’re not back in one day, I’ll assume you died.
E: Don’t wait that long. I’d love to come back and find peace and quiet waiting for me instead of you.

What sort of things influence the diction of your characters? In example 1, R says, “You’re really quite cute when you’re worried,” whereas in example 2, she says “kinda,” instead. In both of the latter examples, R is more prone to using “fuck” and “hell.”

In one of my novels, I have two narrators: K and B. K is well-read, well-spoken and a little snobbish. B isn’t an idiot, but he dropped out of school in (what amounts to) the fifth grade. He’s spent a large portion of his life outside of society and largely lived his life how he wanted. So when they say basically the same thing, K might say,

“I’ve got this covered. Thank you, but, honestly, it isn’t anything to worry about.” 

Where B would say,

“I’ve got this. For real. Thanks.”

In general, as I write their dialogue, B uses more contractions, shorter sentences, and doesn’t use many words beyond the 1000 most commonly used. He makes grammatical mistakes (Saying “me” when he should say “I”) He has more verbal tics, “Um…” “Er–” “Well, it’s just that…” etc. K speaks with much more flowery language and tends to elaborate beyond what is necessary. This means unneeded adverbs, “moment,” “rather/quite/somewhat,” superfluous reflexive pronouns, etc. I have one character who tends to speak in run-on sentences whenever she uses the word “because.” I have one character who compulsively addresses the people he’s speaking to, so much so that other characters make fun of him for it.

These are all things that, in general, I avoid doing. But using them purposefully helps to set character voices apart. 

Narrator Voice

To some extent, narrator voice can use these same tactics. If you’re using multi-pov, especially, these kinds of nuances will help your reader really feel like they’re reading the words of multiple characters, rather than just being told they are. If you’re writing an intimate third-person or first person, these same principles can help bring your narrative voice to life, just like the words written in quotes. 

Think about these two opening lines and how the voice of the narrator gives you two very different impressions about the same event:

The sun was rising. Though the scent of the overnight dew hung heavy over our tent, the sleeping bag hugged us close together. She smelled warm, and even the scent of our intermingled sweat was pleasant in the early morning. I wondered briefly if the residual alcohol was softening reality, but ultimately it didn’t matter. I was in love.

The sun was coming up. The air was heavy, humid in the muggy morning. Our sleeping bag was wrapped tight around us, the moisture from our breaths clinging around our heads. Sticky and warm, she still smelled like sex. It was probably an objectively terrible smell, but the memories made it nice. I blinked, wondering if that last glass of wine was still hanging over me, but I don’t guess it mattered. I fucking loved this girl. 

So think about it! There are tons of factors that could go into how your characters speaks…and thus, what “rules” you break in their dialogue.

  • How educated or well-read is your character?
  • What influence does their culture have on their diction?
  • How wordy do they tend to be?
  • If they use as few words as possible, maybe mostly grunts, what is the motivation behind that?
  • How much attention do they like to bring to themselves?
  • How self-conscious are they about their voice? Their speech patterns? The effect their words have on others?
  • How long does it take them to get to the meat of what they’re saying?
  • How much do they make others laugh?
  • How optimistic or pessimistic are they?
  • How much do they try to avoid talking about themselves or their emotions?
  • At what point do they end a conversation they don’t like?
  • How long does it take them to get angry in a disagreement? 
  • How does anger alter their speech? 
  • How does overwhelming sadness alter their speech?
  • How does immense joy alter their speech?
  • What words do they use with noticeable frequency?
  • Do they speak differently in intimate settings than in public?

Don’t be afraid to use any and every word to give your characters their own voices. As I always say, to anyone in basically any situation: I don’t mind if you break any rule at all…as long as you broke it with deliberated intent. 

Happy revising!

JB appreciation post

Alright I already made one for Jinyoung so I think that in light of the comeback it’s only right that I make JB the second one in this series. Let’s begin, shall we?

He is the softest i stg

punch me

s o f t 

he’s also literally a boyfriend 

fml 

boyfriend 

BOYFRIEND

B O Y F R I E N D– let’s move on before i combust ok

He’s also so motherfucking hot that he could literally punch me in the face and I would thank him

r00d

Idk about u but I’m fucked up

c h r i s t 

could u leave with those intense brown eyes sir

me rn

anyway, besides being extremely fucking adorable and soft and SO GODDAMN SEXY, he has an angelic voice and a smile that once brought a puppy back to life

LIL CUTIE PIE

he also looks like he’s 7 when he does that little crouch-y thing (mind you, I was literally in tears when I took this screenshot)

Bonus photo:

okay i’m really done now, just stan our lil leader! He deserves it!! He’s so talented– writes a lot of his own lyrics and can sing his ass off. He’s soft and presh and not scary! My soft baby feeds stray cats in his downtime and gets shy when ahgases call him cute. He also flirts with them. I cry. leave me alone to drown in my tears but stan my lil muffin while ur at it. 

As always, none of these photos are mine (except the screenshot) and all credits go to their original makers.