inadequate words

just me trying to explain to my friends why monoma doesnt act out of pure hatred, but rather, out of concern and regard for his class, even if they don’t like him

Why you should comment on a fic

Please consider leaving comments on an author’s fic.

I know from personal experience, that being a writer, especially when it is for fic, can be really hard. There are times when I wonder what I’m doing, and if I’m just kidding myself. If my writing is any good at all. I know I don’t write for other’s amusement, but dammit it’s hard not to worry about what other people think and if you’re any good. Writing makes you vulnerable. It’s intimate and it makes you feel self conscious (sometimes more than others). 

And those comments? Those are so important because they’re this ridiculously small thing to someone else but this huge this to a writer. Not just once have I looked through comments on my fics to see the kind words, the evidence that I don’t suck to some people, when I’m feeling extra self conscious and unsure. A simple little comment, one that the commenter may not think about ever again, means the world to that writer. It can often times be what leads to them continuing to write. 

So, please, take the time to leave a comment. 

IMMOVABLE OBJECTS

I love you. 

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you–
I love you harder than this heart of mine can beat.
I love you farther than these hands of mine can reach.
I love you longer than these bones of mine will last.

Perhaps, in some other world,
     where the horizons are wider than ours,
     where the oceans are deeper and the stars are brighter,
Perhaps this other world can encompass this love of mine, 
but dear heart, all I have here are 
     five inadequate fingers to caress you with and
     four inadequate limbs to hold you with and
     three inadequate words to comfort you with and
     two inadequate lips to kiss you with and
     one inadequate life to love you with.

They say, dear heart, that Love is an unstoppable force,
     and I believe them.
          I do.
It’s just that I’m also learning, day by slow day,
that there are more immovable objects than I ever thought existed. 

I cannot love you into safety. 
I cannot love away the nightmares that haunt your midnight sleep.
I cannot love together the pieces of you that they broke apart.
I cannot love us back to the past where the skies were rosier and your smiles were brighter.
I cannot love us into a future where I can promise you you will never be hurt again. 
I cannot love you back from Misery’s grasping fingers and Death’s cold hands.

I cannot even, dear heart,
     no matter how hard my heart longs and my breath shudders, 
I cannot love us into a quiet grave where we can rest, 
     side by side
     at last at peace
     together

But dear heart, I promise you this:
I will try.
I will try until my last gasping breath
     and my last pounding heartbeat
     and my last trembling step
     and my last whimpering prayer.

I will try, dear heart,
     until we reach a quiet grave where we can rest, 
          side by side
          at last at peace
          together.

If I cannot win against the world, dear heart,
     then by God,
I will not let them win against me, either. 

Over the course of Black Sails, Luke Arnold’s John Silver has progressed from a thorn in Flint’s side to his reluctant sidekick in Season 2 to his confidante in Season 3. By the show’s fourth and final season, “friends” seems like an inadequate word. They share an emotional shorthand and understand each other in a way nobody else does. To its credit, just as it did with Flint’s relationship with Miranda Hamilton (Louise Barnes) Black Sails doesn’t try to define it neatly.

“There’s a need in Flint for Silver as a sort of alter-ego,” says Stephens. “As an expression or an extension of himself. That was interesting for me to play, especially this season where there’s a shift in power. There’s a sense that Flint’s star is declining, and Silver’s is ascending, and how that isn’t going to end well. Yet in a way, Flint makes it happen. He sort of gives away his power to Silver. Why does he do that? It’s interesting.”

For his part, Stephens thinks it comes down to sharing the burden of his position. “He finds a kindred spirit in Silver. It’s finding this balance between somebody who’s driven by pragmatism but also has this dark side — this anger that’s feeding it, these motivations that are emotional. Flint projects this on him. Because I don’t think Silver can ever live up to that. I don’t think anybody can live up to these things that Flint demands of them. It’s how that resolves itself which is where Season 4 really kind of comes into its own.“

—  “friends” seems like an inadequate word, Toby Stephens on Flint and Silver for Inverse

anonymous asked:

I have noticed that none of the Harrie Larries I follow did anything but a bare minimum reblog about the charity single. Except for several implying that because Louis' vocals sounded good, it was probably due to the sound engineer. It's so petty and shitty.

I’ve seen on my dash people praising Louis’s voice all day. To be honest, I don’t know if they are mostly Louies Larries or Harrie Larries. I don’t keep close track, I admit, because Larrie politics makes me tired and crabby.

In my heart I believe Harry and Louis work together. They don’t deserve a fandom that pits them against each other. Their managements are baffling / shitty sometimes, but that’s not on them, sister, and they don’t deserve hate.

We got stalkers tailing their every move, digging through their trash, for Pete’s sakes, to find information that is potentially devastating. Let’s not add to the terrible things for them.

People can blog & reblog what they want. The “unfollow” button is there if you don’t want to read it. Just remember, everyone has a bad day now and then. Forgive, be understanding, be nice. People’s lives are harder than we imagine, and we’re all doing this for free, for fun. Let’s be family for each other.

Now let’s talk about Louis’s and Liam’s parts.

I heard the song, and I thought the engineering was really good, at least, on first listen.

All the singers sounded like their best selves, the nuances in their voices captured but the rough patches smoothed. They recorded on 18 June and the single was released 21 June, so there wasn’t that much time to do much engineering. They were auto-tuned… but there is no studio recording that isn’t, these days.

I was listening to this podcast:

http://andthewriteris.libsyn.com/ep-20-desmond-child

Desmond Child is a songwriter who’s worked with Aerosmith, Bon Jovi, Cher, KISS, Alice Cooper, Zedd. He’s also gay.

He said that it takes a great singer, a singer who is a great actor, to draw you into their story for the 3 minutes of their song. For that moment, you are living the emotional experience of that song, the emotional truth of their story.

He has a lot more to say about archetypes, androgyny, role playing, closeting, and being gay in the industry, that I found fascinating.

(A short transcript:
https://seasurfacefullofclouds.tumblr.com/post/162095382040/ross-golan-interviews-desmond-child)

If a three-minute song seems short for telling a story, then what are four or five words? Seems inadequate, right?

I’m trying to work on a write-up of Lucozade. I don’t follow Zayn closely, but this song seems to mean a lot for Zayn fans. Zayn’s delivery of his story seems to match the message of the song– hazy, slurred, going in and out of passion, in and out of focus, the pain subdued and then reignited.

Louis and Liam, on the other hand, are singers who enunciate their words (thank God– I needed lyrics for Lucozade). Their articulations are, by now, second-nature to One Direction fans. We easily identify their voices because we’ve unconsciously memorized their vocal habits, the sound coming from their mouths and throats. We love them. They sound like family.

Yet they’re growing older, and learning, at last, how to use their voices fully. To hear their full potential is glorious, just like listening to Harry’s full album and realizing THAT was in him (I still can’t believe it).

Liam’s words, “I’m on your side,” was sung with beauty, sympathy, and strength. We know what kind of person Liam is: loyal, hard-working, with huge talent and a heart to match. He’s doing great in the charts. This song was a tiny promo for him; I’ve loved his solo appearances, and he totally smashed the Capital FM summertime ball (Niall too). But the truth of his story is: we know he’s on our side. His vocals feel honest because we know him, we’ve seen him do charity work, we know he feels sympathy and love. And he did sound fantastic, his voice deeper and smoother, yet always sounding like Liam.

Louis’s part, “I will lay me down,” also sounded exactly like Louis, but deeper, bigger, as if he opened his chest and the sound came from the deepest bellows. His voice sounded notably bigger and deeper than it did on Just Hold On (which was admittedly in a higher part of his range– a high part of any male singer’s range, tbh). He still has the telltale Louis-hitch at the end of the word “down”– something many people caught. Louis’s voice always has that quality of feeling both personal, and empathetic, communal. It’s very painful & intense, yet reassuring at the same time. I think he has been doing voice training, and I haven’t seen him smoking as much (but he was smoking in the papped Donny photos). Yes, it was great engineering, but also yes, his voice has undergone a nice improvement.

As for the charity, I saw many reposts for it.

Last– the boys are doing their solo careers, and it’s not realistic to expect equal enthusiasm from the fandom for everything they’re involved in. I didn’t say “fair”; I said “realistic.” They know this, they expect this, or they should. They’re not going to get uniform support from the fandom, they’re not going to get the same support they got as One Direction. Every aspect of fandom has changed– the number of fans, the number of blogs, Twitter accounts, fan fiction being written and read, art, charity drives. Hiatus lowers enthusiasm. That’s the truth.

But that’s okay. Life can’t stay static. Art doesn’t stay static, or it gets stale. That means successes and failures. They’re in an industry where one failure can mean a fade into oblivion, but they are persistent people, and also experienced professionals. Harry’s tour sold very well– not at 1D levels, but he wasn’t expected to. If Louis or Liam or Niall tour, they will also sell well, but again, not at 1D levels. That’s what they’ve chosen. Industry already pits them against each other. Let’s be better.

S

Another Day

Ship: Steter
Warning: suicidal thoughts

*

The house was quiet, like it always was when Stiles didn’t make the noise to fill it. His dad was holed up at the station for the third day in a row and Stiles’ motivation to pretend he was happy had faded away completely with no one there to swallow his performance. He should be doing his homework - it was all spread out before him across the kitchen table - but instead he was just sitting there, listening to the hum of the refrigerator and staring at the block of knives on the counter.

Keep reading

You want to scream, crush something under your fingertips,
Or feel something fragile break between your teeth.
There is a blood spatter on the back of your hand
That won’t come off no matter how hard you scrub.
There is dirt under the blunt ends of your fingernails
From the day you cracked completely
Baring your teeth to the sky which yielded no answers to your silent questions.

There is a weight on your soul and it bears down like a iron chain around your heart. There are two hands of fear that have wrapped their lanky fingers around your throat, and squeezed the life giving oxygen right out of your godforsaken lungs.
—  the cry of a soldier | a.h.
Kitten (Part 25)

Note: Everything finally flowed so much better after getting over that last bit in the last chapter, so ya’ll get another update tonight. I know some of you have been looking forward to this.  Hope it lives up to expectations.

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The Red Lion races ahead of him. Pilot and ship both eager to let loose after being cooped up in the Castle for so long. Shiro coaxes Black to speed up. They have no chance of keeping pace with their Red counterparts, but he can at least keep the other lion in sight.

Keith heads straight for the nearby asteroid belt. Snaking his way between giant hunks of rock with a delighted laugh. Shiro follows much more carefully, but genuinely smiling for what feels like the first time in weeks. Coran had been right.  Getting Keith, getting them both, back in the cockpit had been a good idea. Flying the lions was freedom and power to go anywhere, do anything, or do nothing at all on a whim, and that was exactly the kind of thing Keith needed in his life right now. Something he could control and shape to his desires on his own.

Shiro lets himself live in the moment. Get lost in the follow the leader run through the asteroid belt. Keith never pulls too far ahead. Doubling back or doing a couple tricky loops when it looks like he’s about to lose the Black Lion, but never actually slowing down. This is good. They should have done it sooner.

.

They head back to the Castle eventually. Keith looks much more relaxed stepping out of his lion than going in. Maybe a little tired, but the good kind of tired. Not overwhelmed, just a bit exhausted.

He doesn’t quite run between their hangars, but Shiro is there to greet him when he steps down with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. Keith hasn’t said anything, but after everything Kuro did, Shiro is sticking to safe affections for now. He’s rewarded by Keith leaning into him, hiding the slight dusting of pink on his cheeks. PDA, even when they are alone in a public space, has always mildly embarrassed him. It’s good to see the small things start to reassert themselves. That means they are finally doing something right.

Hunk messaged him earlier to tell him lunch is ready, but Shiro lets the hug linger until Keith moves back with a tiny smile. He wraps his arm around him, before they walk out of the hangar together. He hasn’t felt the need to have his hands on Keith so much since they first started dating. Then he did so out of the newness of the privilege. After the pining and the awkward flirting, finally getting to touch had sent him over the moon, and he’d done it every chance he got, to the point he had to have a very awkward conversation with Iverson.

Now he does it out of reassurance. Physical affections has always meant more to Keith than words. He can’t remember who said it, but someone called Keith touch starved once and that stuck with him. Keith longs for physical contact like a desert flower seeks water, and he is just as beautiful when he gets what he’s looking for. If Shiro is going to convince him that he would never willingly leave, then this is the most important step. Also has the added benefit of touching Keith. Never too much of that in the world.

They don’t make it far into the Castle before Keith pulls up short. He’s staring down the hall that leads to the hangar with the shuttles. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he’s thinking.

“Do you want to see it?” Pidge had recommended getting Keith to talk, maybe process some of what happened to him with someone else’s help. Her suggested manner had been too harsh and was vetoed, but the sentiment behind it was true. Keeping everything bottled up wasn’t helping.

Keith’s eyes are a little unfocused when he looks back at Shiro. His fingers grip the back of his vest before he speaks, “Maybe?” He sounds more like he’s asking Shiro what to do than stating an opinion.

Shiro runs his prosthetic thumb across Keith’s cheekbone, “Hey, you don’t need to.” He reassures. Needing to talk doesn’t mean he needs to go back to visit what was essentially his prison.

Keith closes his eyes and breathes deep. Steadying himself, “I think, I do.” When his eyes open, there is determination in them. Short of picking him up and carrying him off, Shiro isn’t talking him out of it.

He nods, “Okay, I’ll be right there with you.”

.

Shiro stares down at the bench seat in dawning horror. Keith is waiting outside. Seeing the shuttle was enough for what felt he needed to do. He didn’t want to go inside, but Shiro, he’d had to see the truth of what Keith had told him.

“Is everything still in there?”

“Yes, everything he left, but he took some things with him.”

Maybe, maybe it’s bigger on the inside than it looks. The space could go deeper into the walls or floor. Still inhuman conditions but better. He presses the keys to unlock the storage space.

“What did he take?”

“Somethings, it’s not important.”

It’s not. Fucking hell it’s not. There’s not enough room in there for Keith. Even curled up, he’s not that tiny. Oh god, things begin to make horrible sense. Keith’s fears, the pains of stretching on the videos, what Kuro did to make him play his games. How could someone do this to him. How could someone who claimed to have his memories keep Keith locked away in this?

He can’t tell if he wants to throw up or scream. He wants to kill Kuro, right this instant, beat him until they no longer resemble each other. Shiro activates his arm. The metal beneath his fingers smokes and begins to melt. It’s easy to tear the wall of the container to shreds. Destroy the object used to hurt even though the wielder is out of reach.

“Shiro tell me.”

“The recording equipment, a tool box, and whatever the box was.”

“…my box is still in there.”

Keith’s waiting for him when he exits. Arms crossed in a way that looks suspiciously like a self hug. Shiro gives him a real one. Holds him as tightly as he dares. “I’m so sorry…you didn’t deserve that.” The words are inadequate, but he has to say something. Express everything he’s feeling, and how, how none of this should have ever happened to Keith.

Keith inhales sharply, tenses up in his arms. If he cries, Shiro is going to bring him Kuro in a box of his own. Fuck morality, he’ll let Keith burn him alive for this.

Keith doesn’t cry though. He just stays like that, while Shiro rubs his shoulders and upper arms. Breathing in an overly calculated manner, until he finally seems to suppress the urge.

Keith pushes away, “Can we go?” He asks in a voice that’s still too small.

“Sure. Let’s go eat, okay.” Hunk has probably started to worry about them.  Even with Shiro’s message they’d be late.

They leave the hangar hand in hand.

Next >  Complete Version

untitled usnavi de la vega x reader drabble # 1

Warnings: We are in the clear, for once! 

Note: Have a random 200 word Usnavi drabble that I whipped up in between my other WIP’s! 

xx


There was a subtle swing to your hips as you walked towards him, the smile on your face a bright swatch of your favorite red lipstick and all too wicked. Usnavi’s tongue felt limp at the sight of you, gorgeous and brilliant and all his. His his his.

“You ready babe?” you ask him as you draw to his side, perfume heady and his heart on the roof of your mouth.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Usnavi said, because he didn’t know what else he could say. Words felt inadequate.

“Nina and Benny are getting married, can you believe it?” you said, disbelieving. You slipped your arm casually through his proffered one and smiled once more, but this one was softer.

Usnavi shook his head, dubious chuckles escaping him. “Not at all.”

You grinned. “And my boyfriend is the best man. How sexy.”

He laughed then, appreciative of the fact that you were trying to calm him down. He’d been nervous for the entire six months it took to plan this thing.

Your boyfriend, huh?” he wheedled at you, and you blushed cherry but he rejoiced at the word.

He was yours, all yours. All yours entirely.

“Of course,”

What are words and
their importance?

When I need them the most, they never come.
How could I ever use them to express the depths
of the pain I feel?
The compassion?
The extent of
my agreement?

Whatever I speak, it feels too little. Too dull for the
amount of emotion I feel nestled there inside of me.
It’s never enough when it really comes down to it.

In this way, the words betray. Me, their creator.
But what have I really created, anyway?

They were here first, infused with meaning.
I only string them together in sentences.
I try to convey what is inside,
but it never comes out right.

Sometimes, it is the silence that says it best.

—  Kimberly Arcade, When Words Feel Lacking

*a year ago*

Me: love is so powerful. It is an emotion strong enough to heal this broken world. It is the most incredible emotion I’ve ever experienced – “emotion” is almost an inadequate word. I feel it so strongly, like a burning rose…

*now*

Person: *says love once*

Me: Jesus fucking Christ, shut the fuck up