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acnelli · 3 years

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Hiding

This is my entry for the Hinny FicFest 2021 hosted by @clarensjoy. Thank you for organising it! There were so many lovely prompts to choose from and originally I wanted to write something really angsty for this one, but then decided to approach this in a much more lighthearted way.

Thank you @accio-broom for beta-reading! You are the best!

Prompt 2: Ginny gets sick and won’t admit it Rating: GA Pairing: Harry/Ginny Summary: Ginny had a bad day, including an unfortunate injury, which she tries to hide from Harry.

Also available on AO3 and FFN.

Ginny walked out of St. Mungo’s with a limp and a glare that would put Hermione’s cat Crookshanks to shame. The world was against her these last couple of days; she just knew it.

It had started with a horrendous loss against a team the Harpies were positive they would never lose to; the Chudley Cannons. The orange excuse of a professional Quidditch Team had beat them, and it wasn’t even a close match. They lost 590 to 120—an absolute disaster.

Of course, her insufferable brother had lost his mind, along with all the other Cannon fans in the stands. It had been the first time the Cannons won in what must’ve been years, which resulted in the players not even hearing the referee’s whistle, signalling the end of the game.

Ginny had given Ron the tickets to this match as a birthday present. As long as the Cannons lost every single time, and she could greet her brother with a smug grin, she was okay with Ron switching his Harpies jersey with her number on it to his orange Cannon one. This time though, Ginny found it nothing short of traitorous, and even her family, including Harry, had the gal to congratulate Ron. Her brother would make sure she would never forget this day, no matter how many times the Harpies would kick their arses in the future.

The Harpies, quite demoralised from their previous match, had shown up at training the next day, as usual. After a pep talk by their coach, the team had pepped up, flying different manoeuvres and acting out the strategies for their game against Ballycastle the next day.

Enjoying the wind on her face, as well as the feeling that only flying so high up in the air could provide, Ginny had forgotten all about their loss and solely concentrated on getting the Quaffle inside one of the three loops from every possible angle. She had been so engaged in training that she noticed the dangerous wheezing of the Bludger one second too late. Although she could dive away to avoid getting hit in the face, the ball collided with her left ankle, and the next thing she knew, she was lying on a stretcher as a medi-wizard treated her injury.

A broken ankle usually could be treated by the team’s healers, but the young man insisted on transferring her to the hospital as he suspected a more complicated fracture. And because it was Ginny’s lucky week, he had been right eventually.

The healer who treated her advised Ginny not to play against Ballycastle as the Skele-gro would cause a great deal of pain, and painkillers were strictly forbidden at Quidditch matches, especially pain-relief potion which had strong side effects, and therefore, were a danger to herself and others while on a broom.

Against the healer’s strongest protests, Ginny refused the skele-gro and asked the middle-aged woman to stabilize her ankle and give her some light painkillers that would wear off until tomorrow.

Ginny needed to play tomorrow. A few days ago, Oliver had tipped her off that the national trainers would be watching the game against Ballycastle, and there was just no way she would pass this chance to show them that she was the right choice to play for England. Even if they only let her join as a reserve Chaser, it would be her ticket to play international Quidditch.

While the discussion with the healer had been annoying but without any chance for the St. Mungo’s employee to change Ginny’s mind, the real battle would be at home. If Harry got even the slightest hint about his wife’s injury, a fight would break out, fitting these infuriating last two days.

Harry, usually being blissfully oblivious to most things, immediately noticed when something was up with Ginny. While most times, this little fact warmed her heart, it was rather unfortunate today. And ever since Harry joined the Aurors, he had become even more of a bloodhound when he sensed a secret.

Ginny was determined to try her best to appear normal when she carefully walked out of the fireplace and into the living room of Grimmauld Place. As she expected, Harry sat on the settee, reading the sports section of the Daily Prophet.

“Hey, Gin,” Harry greeted her, looking up as she walked over to where he was sitting, “How was training? Did Rodgers let you off earlier today?”

The painkillers still in effect, Ginny leaned down to kiss her husband, carefully lifting her weight off her injured ankle. Kissing Harry always made her feel good, but after her dreadful day, it simply felt like heaven.

With one swift movement, Harry pulled her down with him on the settee. She cuddled up against his side, inhaling his scent as she trailed kisses down his neck. As their kisses became more heated, Harry rolled on top of her, and just as she was about to sigh because of the sweet friction, a pained whimper escaped her when Harry hit Ginny’s foot with his leg.

He immediately jumped up, eyes going wide, and Ginny knew that she lost her little hiding game. Carefully sitting up, she waited until Harry crouched down in front of her, looking at her worried.

“Are you hurt? What’s wrong with your foot?”

“Just a small accident at training today,” Ginny tried to reassure him, “Nothing serious.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Why does it still hurt then? Your medi-staff can heal most injuries in a heartbeat.”

“I said I’m fine,” Ginny said, cursing her bloody Weasley genes as she felt her ears turning red. As graceful as possible, she stood up, heading for the kitchen. Besides the fact that she didn’t want to have this conversation, she was also hungry.

Of course, the conversation was far from over because Harry followed her into the kitchen, watching her with a raised eyebrow as Ginny made herself a sandwich. When she turned to face Harry, she tried to casually stand on her good foot, pretending her ankle wasn’t throbbing in a more penetrant manner now. Obviously, the painkillers had already started to wear off.

“Why are you hiding this, Gin?” Harry asked, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs, “Why didn’t you just go to a healer?”

“Because they would give me skele-gro and a pain-relief potion, meaning I wouldn’t be able to play tomorrow.”

“So? Ginny, I know you are amazing, but I’m sure the Harpies can manage one match without you.”

“Yes, they sure can,” Ginny huffed in frustration, “But if I don’t play, the scouts for the English national team possibly won’t take me into consideration.”

Harry stood up and walked over to his wife, leaning down to get on eye-level with her. “To quote your brother: Are you fucking mental?”

“It’s my career, Harry! Playing for England is the dream, and I refuse to let this silly little injury get in the way.”

Instead of commenting on this, he gently took Ginny’s hand, leading her to sit on a chair. More out of discomfort because of her increasingly throbbing ankle than the willingness to sit down, Ginny complied anyway.

“This is far too dangerous, Ginny. You can’t possibly hold yourself on a broom for-”

“This is not up for debate,” Ginny interrupted him, her tone clipped and her face now red from anger, “I’ll just grit my teeth long enough to play some of my best manoeuvres, and then I’ll ask for a timeout and Rodgers will put me on the bench.”

“And you think Rodgers will be alright with you playing injured? Or are you planning to hide it like you tried to hide it from me?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Harry sighed in frustration at her trademark Weasley-stubbornness but he took Ginny’s hand anyway.

“Okay, let’s put this into perspective, alright?” Ginny wanted to interrupt him, but Harry just kept talking. “You want to play in a game, most likely showing only a mediocre performance because of your broken ankle. Ginny, these scouts don’t have to see you play in this particular game. They know exactly who you are and what you’re capable of already. If you’re not playing in this match, they’ll watch you play in the next one. Assuming they want the very best for the national team, they’ll sure enough not write you off because you couldn’t make it to this match.”

Harry could tell that Ginny’s resolve was already crumbling, but he knew better than to stop here. “There are also your brothers, and more importantly, your mother. Molly will kill me if she learns you hurt yourself even more, despite me knowing of your injury.”

“But I’ve been looking forward to this game for so long,” Ginny sighed, frowning at the unfairness of it all.

“I know,” Harry said, leaning forward a little to softly kiss her pouting lips, “But you can’t play. It’s not just dangerous for you, but also for your teammates and Ballycastle.”

Harry’s words destroyed every resolve Ginny still had standing. The last thing she would want is someone getting hurt because of her stubbornness, and certainly not her beloved Harpies.

“Since when are you the voice of reason.” she groaned, letting her head fall against Harry’s chest and draping her arms around his neck.

Harry took this opportunity to swoop her up into his arms before walking towards the fireplace.

“Let’s get you to St. Mungo’s then.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, sighing at the prospect of the knowing look the healer will give her when she comes back.

Before Harry could floo over to the hospital, Ginny leaned up and placed a hot kiss against his throat.

“If I have to stay at home all day tomorrow, you better keep me company, Potter.”

#hinny #hinny ficfest #harry potter #ginny weasley #hp #hp fanfic #hinny fanfic #hinny fanfiction #harry and ginny #ginny and harry #ginny x harry #harry x ginny

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earths-roots-grow-up · 4 years

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HC on how Prussia’s past shaped his fatal flaw that ended him

There’s TL’DR at the end btw :D just a long ramble about Gil’s psychology

I was thinking about young Prussia again and how specific circumstances of his birth and early life influenced his personality and life goals. And how those led directly to his downfall. I already mentioned a lot of such events:

how being born without land and having to fight for every square meter was something that influenced him from the beginning, bc he had this feeling of being treated by faith (God?) unfairly and that, because he had to fight for things others were given naturally, he was superior to them and his achievements meant more. He was special. It also shaped his belief that natural talents are worth a lot less than hard work and discipline.

how losing the Teutonic Wars to Poland and becoming a duchy under Poland was an incredibly humiliating event that installed this deep refusal of ever being in such a position again (of being powerless) and wild determination to instead always be the one who holds all the cards;

how, during his process of taking over blatic Prūsa's lands and extinguishing his culture, Teutonic Order ended up killing the personification. As in, really killing him. And how this act was something that shapes Gilbert' relations to others, as he was still a young, new representation, and he did something that, in the Nation's world, is one of the most terrifying things one can do. Which kinda set up the stage for him and how others viewed him (in simple terms... not great reputation, kinda the black sheep of Europe) and it turned into this self-fulfilling prophecy.

I was lately thinking about this some more and I can see another huge way his personality was shaped as a young personification. It had to do with killing Prūsa - how this event was one of the critical moments for his evolution, right next to being born landless and losing the Teutonic Wars.

To put is simply:

He saw he did something terrible and he needed to live with that. He kept attacking bc he was just young, focused on himself and lacked perspective to understand the consequences, and when they came in the form of permadeath of another Nation, he was not mentally prepared for it. In order to be able to do deal, he had to somehow explain it to himself, make the act of killing Prūsa excusable, even resonable and just. And he did: he created a whole set of excuses, mostly revolving around how "he needs to take care of the number one". So any act is excusable because he has to take care of himself, fight for his own agenda. I think he was quite selfish even before, due to the ‘I’m special’ mentality mentioned at the beginning, that's why he felt so entitled in the first place, but this event cemented him in this self-centered, callous world view that was no longer just a generic character flaw, but evolved into a fatal flaw .

If it didn't, he would have to deal with the horrific act of murdering another nation and force himself through very painful self-analysis and self-actualization that would probably make him into a better person, sure, but it’s a challenging psychological process that requires effort and some amount of self awareness. He was simply not mature enough for such a thing, he was a KID. So he evolved a coping mechanism - he dived into preexisting imperfections of his character and developed a whole worldview that was pretty self-absorbed (and really? tons of people choose shallow coping mechanisms to deal with stuff instead of doing a deep dive into their own psyche and really hashing it out honestly).

Of course much later he still had to deal with this fatal flaw, which ironically ended up leading to his downfall. If he did not have it, he would not be so obsessed with gaining power in Europe, and one way of gaining power was creating (and ruling!) the German Empire - and it was Germany who ended up making him irrelevant and then loosing his status as a nation completely. Is this tragic irony or what? His biggest fear of being powerless comes true due to events he himself set in motion, fueled by this fatal flaw in the form of trying to have all the power by any means necessary. Which IMO makes his character growth even more powerful, when at the end of Cold War he deices to open up the country and accepts the possibility of death and loosing all the power he managed to keep.

But going back to the subject: he needed to weed out pity and softness from himself to be able to get over this at such a young, tender age and keep his self-esteem intact. So he did and the effect was the creation of a very determined, self-confident but also quite narcissistic and ruthless person that we know as the Kingdom of Prussia.

TL;DR Prussia's fatal flaw is that he desires power and control above all else, including his relations to others, family and intimacy. This did not came out of nowhere:

He was born landless but still kept hearing he's a soldier of God and Important, it did not compute, so he evolved a strong entitlement that came from comparing himself to others (with land), and it fueled his conquest/ambitions.

Killing Prusa made him dive into and cement a selfish/callous nature bc he had to somehow explain to himself why he did something so horrendous in the Nation World. It made invest more into the idea that Power Is Worth It.

Losing the Teutonic Wars and his independence was a strong his that made him realize how awful it is to really LOSE, how scary and humiliating it is, and it became a powerful incentive to desire power even more, now fueled not just by entitlement/pride, but fear.

Sorry for having the whole thing in so many posts, I swear it’s supposed to create some kind of coherent profile x.x I just suck at being coherent and it's a work in progress :D i just want to keep fleshing him out and adding new motivations to make him more realistic and complex, hope it's working, or is it an overkill?

#aph prussia #hws prussia #gilbert beilschmidt #hetalia #hetalia headcanons #historical hetalia #Axis Powers Hetalia #hetalia world series #hetalia prussia #hws #hetalia world stars #hetalia world twinkle

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theashofwkm · 5 years

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Snowballing Distaster

Summary: William buys a chocolate bar, and that’s the start of his end.

Prompt: Goretober, In the air

Warnings: rumors being spread, societal expectation, societal judgement, death mention, someone is wrongfully accused of murder, mentions of being on tour, succumbing to expectations, anti-gay mention.

Note: day five! I hope you all like this one!!^^

———

It buzzes around, a quiet hum from mouth to ear, mouth to ear, mouth to ear. They say rumors spread like wildfire. The more scandalous, the faster it bursts, the faster it spreads, the sooner action is taken. And if it turns out to be true? Well, there’s no accurate comparison for that.

Judgement is passed and that who the rumor is whispered about, faces a punishment. Shunning, exclusion, whispers of other things that they might be keeping hidden. Every act of theirs is suddenly on display, and everyone else a critic to the show.

Townspeople are not kind critics. No, they’re the harshest sort.

A mountain of expectation is held for every individual and a rumor of any deviation from it lowers it to the depth of a chasm. One is either flawlessly perfect, or horrendously flawed. There is no in between.

Not to the townspeople.

A rumor proved true, a rumor spread and whispered and horrifying, can be the end of everything. Service will be refused, disgusted looks will be held and the person will be seen as a monster. In small towns, a belief of the people becomes truth of the street.

If one is seen as a monster, then that’s what they are.

Starting a rumor is easy. For William, his first rumor, the pebble of snow that starts the boulder, is a chocolate bar. He buys it for the boy he likes. His friend, brother in name and not blood, whispers it to a classmate at school and by the days end, everyone is wondering who William likes. It hums through the building, in every child’s ears, and for now, the teachers don’t care enough to decipher the taste of it in the air.

Everyone keeps their eyes peeled for the wrapper of the brand of the bar William bought. It’s spotted peeking out of Damien’s bag and the rumor leaves the school. Parents whisper now, eyeing Mark’s parents suspiciously, torn between distrust and sympathy. They settle on sympathy. For now. There’s no reason to doubt them, not yet, but now they’re watching.

They’d taken William in, when his parents died. How tragic that he turned out to be gay. Poor them. How kind they were, to take him in, how kind they are to keep him, despite his flaws.

They’re too kind-hearted for their own good, they whisper. One day it’ll backfire on them.

Backwoods town, different is synonymous with bad. People avoid bad things, it’s easier then trying to understand. Shunning is undoubtably easier then the alternative of accepting that people are human and mistakes are made.

Damien heard the rumors. Sees the pity and curiosity in his classmate’s eyes as they wonder if he’s gay, too. His sister staves off the worst of them, keeps him from being approached directly, but they still whisper and he takes dramatic action to make it stop.

He approaches William in the cafeteria, some say, in the hallway between class, at his desk after school. Details differ, but the heart of the story stays the same.

Damien returns the candy bar.

Some say that he’d said nothing, had been disgusted to be in his presence, that he had wiped his palms on his pants as he walked away. Some say that he’d rejected him with words, humiliated him in front of everyone and clearly voiced his disgust at the other boy and his feelings.

In reality, he’d passed the candy bar back after class, discreetly. He’d whispered an apology, pity and fear in his eyes as he told William that they couldn’t be what he wanted. Heat fades off him, his impeccable reputation restored, and people whisper and compete over which version of the story is true.

William cried, one person says, eyes wide in mock pity. Laughter follows his footsteps in the halls now, ringing behind him like it’s his heels that are laughing, not his peers. Crybaby is his new name whispered around the halls. He’s mercilessly teased for the rest of that year.

Months pass, years drag on, the intensity of whispers fade. William tries very hard to be a perfect student. The rumors are nasty, and the pranks are worse. Humiliation is the only kind of social interaction he has in public anymore. He’s become a shut-in.

Mark’s parents die a handful of months before their schooling is over. They’d been found in their bedroom, wide-eyed and together.

Eyes turn to William, who had been home while Mark was out with friends, who had been found screaming outside their door. A word echoes through the air, fear spreading it wide, an accusation and question all in one.

Murderer.

William avoids school, not able to handle the fearful looks and whispers that scream in his ears. Classmates take it as an admission of his guilt, his confession to a horrid crime. Murderer is a question no more, but a statement.

He took a week off school to grieve and that became his confession to everyone who was listening for words about him to drift through the air. More people join the trend of hating him and thinking he’s bad and evil and wrong. The few sympathizers left turn on him, pitiful whispers losing their kind edge.

To them, he is as good as guilty. No trial, no judge, no jury. Business owners hear secretaries whisper of a high school student who killed his adoptive parents, who was gay. When he graduates, he isn’t accepted into college and no place wants to hire him.

Horrid reputation precedes him. He’s known as crybaby and murderer and backstabber.

Monster is now synonymous with his name and no one wants anything to do with a monster. People flock to wherever he isn’t, and the new rumor floating around town is that if you hang around him the you’ll either end up an accomplice or dead.

Damien, still friends with the boy, bless him, suggests that William move out of town. “It’s impossible to change their minds,” he says, “it’s set in stone and you can’t do anything to reverse the damage.”

It’s insulting that he says that so nonchalantly. This all started because of him. William had had a crush and Damien was too scared of what people thought to accept him, to do what he’d secretly wanted. In saving himself, he had damned William. They could be burning together, if Damien hadn’t been so scared.

Part of William hates Damien for that. Because he had been willing to take that risk, to throw away people opinions of him for a chance to make Damien his. For a chance to be happy, in love, even.

“That’s easy for you to say.” William bares his teeth, frustration and anger bubbling under his skin, wrapped around his bones. “You don’t have to deal with their hate. This is my home and they hate me because of you.” His words are venom, tone bitter and hard. He wants Damien to hurt.

Damien softens, reaching forwards. “I just want what’s best for you. Maybe their rejection will soften some, if you go away for a bit.”

It feels like Damien is rejecting him all over again. First as a lover and now as a friend. Damien was all he had, outside of Mark. Damien was the only outsider who looked past the evil pinned on him by others.

He staggers back a step. “Fine,” he says. “If you don’t want me here, then I’ll leave.”

And leave he does. He joins the military, where the only thing they see is a stellar report card. His reputation is left behind, lingering under the surface.

Touring, fighting, he gets few letters. Damien becomes mayor, Mark’s career is going well, he got married to Celine, Damien’s sister. No more. Basic pleasantries are exchanged and it feels like it’s just an unpleasant chore for them, something they have to do but don’t want to.

He’s still bitter. Still angry.

Returning, he learns that his good deeds, his service and sacrifice for the country don’t outweigh his old reputation. Rumors stir up again, him being an easy, popular topic to discuss. They say he moved so he had permission to kill, that he had a hunger for it, that it was the only time he felt real joy.

Blood stains his hands as a ghost he will never outrun. Killing wasn’t something he’d enjoyed, but it’s something that they drove him to do. He would’ve stayed, if he wasn’t driven out.

It turns out that Celine doesn’t care for others. He moves back in with Mark, in that childhood home, and they befriend each other. She’s pretty, and William can only think of Damien when he looks at her. His childhood crush never faded.

He does get an idea. It’s horrible and terrible and awful, but it’s a chance for him to do what he’s never been able to.

His life has been spent trying to dispute the town’s hate of him. Bitter, hurting, angry, he decides that he’ll succumb to it instead. Instead of looking for redemption he shouldn’t need to be seeking, he turns to revenge.

This all happened because Damien rejected him. He was going to make sure he knows that was a mistake.

He woos Celine. Seduces her and undermines her marriage. He makes her care for him and maybe his heart softens a little, doubt creeping in, but maybe that’s just another rumor, something said from someone who knows nothing but loves to talk.

His whole life is narrated in rumors, in whispers between townspeople, people he’s never met. He’s starting to lose perspective of his own life, what’s actually truth and what’s something that someone said just to vilify him even more.

And he has been vilified. He’s infamous in town. Children he’s never met know to skirt around him and not bend to his friendly ‘act’. He’s a monster, their parents whisper, tucking them into bed.

It’s terribly lonely. So he woos Celine, out of a mix of loneliness and bitterness and anger. He thinks that it’s her fault, for trusting him, for believing him to be more then what people said, for falling for him. It takes two to tango and she had danced quite well.

Running away with her, degrading names thrown at their backs as he steals her away (from her loving husband, poor man), he almost thinks he’s being genuine. That he actually fell for her, somewhere in his ruse.

Then he learns that she had her own ruse. That he was simply a pawn in her game to rid herself of Mark. Maybe that should anger him, but he supposes it’s fair. It hurts more then he ever lets on.

He gets an invite to a Poker Party. Mark wishing to reconcile, to apologize, to be brothers again. Or so he says. The night ends in death. More blood stains his hands, blood of friends, allies.

William, grieving the loss of Damien’s friend, of Damien himself, of Celine and Mark, he wonders how all of this came to be. They were all so close, once.

He supposes it the rumors that tore them apart. That at some point, he’d been vilified so much that they doubted him or believed him not to be worth the trouble anymore, of what people thought and what people said.

It’s hard to believe that this all came to be from a crush, from a confession gone south, a cheap candy bar that wasn’t enough, in the end. Or maybe it was William that wasn’t enough.

All he’d wanted was for Damien to give him a chance.

Fear had stopped him. Rejection had been sewed into William, carved into his bones, burned into his skin. He was made a laughing stock. Rumors had been pumped out, making him a beast, a monster, something he wasn’t.

And William, poor him, had succumbed to the years of pressure and depraved opinions made clear.

———

Masterlist

TAGGING: @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @electricprincess888 @berrie-b @mackenziplier @gerardwayslips @risiskifi @cawestad @theinvisiblespoon @californiakxng @just-another-starfish @superawesomeamazingname @moonstonefox12 @bones-and-tomes @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @itsbumblebunnybee @noisyfreakpersonlover @nightmarejim @schuyleryette @withjust-a-bite @statictay @muraae @harmonyofstars @cosmic-frapuccino @jmweezy (tags are open)

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advernia · 5 years

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i’m amazed that i’ve been active for at least a couple days straight??? is it the effect of lesser fe3h playtimes + the silly coworker writing challenge at the workplace??? oh well ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

since i remembered i was trying to make work commentary a thing here, more rambling / author’s notes under the cut!

jul 6th // ikerev

push your way through the cracks is the first edgar/mc i’ve written here and while i’ve mentioned there that edgar is my fav out of the cast, i fear that i’ll probably take me a very long time to write another one bc... he’s my favorite. i noticed i have the tendency not to write much (or have finished works) about ships i really, really like despite... you know, liking them. hopefully not - shipping aside, i like exploring the characterizations of enigmatic types like edgar.

about the fic, i pretty much like it save for the second part bc i think i could’ve done something more with it - not exactly change the setting, but expounded a little further on it. i don’t know, it feels lacking somehow in comparison to the first two.

there are a lot of flower-related descriptions tossed here and there, but i think i succeeded in not being so purple prose-y? hopefully! this was pretty descriptive, i guess.

with this edgar fic present, that means i have 2 more red army doods to write about, namely zero & jonah. i was really aiming to make edgar the last one tho haha.

jul 12th // ikerev

weave me into your web is canon based, specifically pt. 24 of sirius’ route where they say ‘goodbye’. note those quotation marks.

i think i wrote this after a discussion i had with a friend about sirius & his route - she read some posts commenting on the route and she wanted a nearby opinion. we got into an agreement: while we do find sirius to be indeed husbando material, his route would’ve risked nothing if they gave him more / emphasized his flaws. his flaws, not mc’s, gosh.

no, seriously. in my opinion, mc fretting so much about being immature sort of blinds her from the little things that prove sirius is not so composed as he appears to be. it gets even worse when she realizes she’s fallen in love with him, and while i enjoy the black army going kira-kira rabu support team + seth being hopeless suitor, i’m going 50/50 on mc. she’s written to be indeed very single-minded come the war phase and while that’s not necessarily bad since she gets to broaden her perspective as she always does, i think i would’ve appreciated it if she came to most of the realizations on her own by reflecting on them based on how the events around her are progressing; and not simply by sirius / someone else pointing it out for her. no wonder she’d think she’s immature in comparison - it also irks me a bit that she keeps on fretting about her feelings for sirius. this is what i’d be sad to see again in other routes: the romance overthrowing the potential / present character development.

side note: i understand that in relationships with a notable age gap, maturity / perceived maturity can be a problem - i just wished that the route downplayed on this bc honestly, there are other things more interesting to explore than that angle, like, say; isn’t she from another culture or world or something????????? will those differences affect our potential relationship??????????????

on sirius himself, i recall reading on reddit that one person didn’t pick up ikerev for the reason that the cast is too perfect. that’s a fair opinion. i think i can relate this to sirius himself: while throughout the route you do see some flaws in him, he’s still overall the dude you’d write home about + that dude you’d dream introducing to your parents complete with that suave voice (thank u junichi suwabe). no, i’m not saying that he has to have some unlikable or quirky trait / wangsty backstory, it’s just that in my opinion he’s desirable but not exactly relatable. let him struggle, let me see him rise up from it. show me his humanity. there’s the scene with him and lancelot, but i want more. tho him being afraid of being alone is what i find extremely relatable and endearing about him, very nice. otherwise... well, maybe i have to reread the route again or smth.

anyway. the fic emphasizes actually on his character trait of self-control / restraint. did u know too much is bad for u??? it can reflect that since you hold yourself back too much, it could mean that you’re masking your true feelings, for example. there are various psychological studies on that. *stares at sirius* hMMM.

i took care to be quite descriptive on that kiss scene and at the same time, not to be so emotional on it bc it’s still sirius lol - i believe he’s not one to lose himself completely to his emotions, but he’s not that afraid to succumb to some of it - especially if he actually wants to feel them.

... this turned out to be a rant portion rather than a fic commentary now didn’t it

aug 24 // ikerev (i’m seeing a pattern here)

a beginner’s guide to waltz was seriously just some formatting experiment, then it blew up to something larger. i actually like it tho, it’s cute.

writing oliver is actually fun, not bc of the reason that i can be rude. he is rude, but he’s not like that for just the sake of being so. as seen with blanc, it’s probably a result of habit. why exactly he chose to be verbally aggressive is something i’d like to know in his route.

i have no idea how the relationship shift is portrayed either, but i do hope it’s a mortifying revelation on mc’s part lol. like, lookie here, that little kid with his wee shorts and pretty hat that you hang out with all the time and don’t care about acting so ladylike around was that hot hunk who saved you before! oliver’s so amused and never letting her live it down.

for the line ‘i’m not interested in asking you about a decision you’ve made since you arrived here’: the decision mentioned is mc’s promise not to fall in love & to go home. i think oliver would be one of those routes where he falls for her but wants her to go home anyway, but the difference in his route is that he’s very adamant to make her leave. maybe thinking along the lines of ‘i don’t want you to end up like me’ or something. idk. idk what i’m trying to type at this point, lol.

just some random thought, but i do hope ikerev artist tcg someday draws mc in the game outfits / hairstyles bc she’s actually rly pretty. the description of mc’s outfits / fashion of part 4 of the fic was out of me just staring at the my closet portion of the game. don’t ask - i like the hc of oliver & mc having elegant wardrobes / fashion sense, and since i’m too lazy to check up 19th century london fashion trends...

sep 28 // collar x malice

haunted by something still alive was the result of me thinking about guns. don’t ask me either. maybe it’s also a result of me wanting to write something else that isn’t from my horrendous drafts folder lol.

these were actually nice drabble practices, and the first one i clearly had i mind was shiraishi’s. i honestly think it would be fitting, probably around the start of the route where they haven’t got to know each other so well.

from there on i tried to do the drabbles in the route order i did when i played the game, which was mineo - sasazuka - okazaki - shiraishi - yanagi. but tbh when i was writing it became shiraishi - mineo - yanagi - sasazuka - yanagi again - okazaki, lol. i rewrote yanagi’s and okazaki’s three times.

subtitles have their respective mathematical operations on it - i find it kind of cool and funny that those are their symbols (amnesia had the card suits), but when you do think of it properly, it does relate to their characters.

... never forget that hoshino ichika is canonically good with guns.

sep 28 // ikerev

in absence of glass slippers as stated was a part of one of my first ikerev drafts. still a draft until now, but the portion i posted is one of the ‘finished’ sections of the fic.

i don’t headcanon mc as a respectable lady from a equally respectable house or her being a well-off girl, but i like the concept of her being a self-taught lady of society aka she learned stuff like manners, dancing, and etc. out of curiosity or for more practical reasons like fitting in. 19th century london is still the victorian era, so social class and propriety was still a thing.

her taking off her shoes to practice dancing with ray is a sort of a challenge, actually... his measure of improvement will be based on the times that he steps on her feet / how many blisters her feet would gain by the end of the session, lolol - that’s why she says that stepping on a rock is the least of her problems. pretty hardcore, isn’t she?

thus the title actually - glass slippers (mary janes actually) are pretty delicate, but don’t you think a lady’s foot is much more delicate?

with ray’s fic up, i’ve officially written a piece for all of the black army men! nice.

sep 29 // ikerev

neither heaven or hell is holy shit, an mc-centered fic! hella rad - i was half thinking to classify it as a drabble, but since i decided that drabbles are pieces that i may get back on, i kept it as a full fic instead since i’m happy with how it turned out.

all of my screamings are in the tags, so i don’t have much to add besides that lol. however, the writing here is pretty different, and that’s because i was trying to do a three sentence fic challenge kind of thing. buuuuut it became three paragraphs with three lengthy sentences instead lol.

also, there’s some stuff highlighting mc’s london-er/english-ness. washing powder is the british term for laundry soap. 19th century roofs for royals were usually panels, and wooden beams for commoners. different as chalk and cheese is a british expression. i’m certainly not british but i just like emphasizing the fact that mc is of another culture/world, thus there should be differences in how she perceives things / her mannerisms & actions / her way of speech. i’ve been conscious of that in all of my fics involving her.

actually, i do make it a point to watch her way of speaking. i really like the polite way of speaking of 19th century britain (and also of today), so i try to integrate that despite the fact that i’m not british myself lol. it’s hard to fully convey it, but i try with hoping that it doesn’t seem too off. i should probably look for more references to practice it.

this was a very spontaneous piece with actually minor editing involved, and i’m pretty proud of how it turned out.

#rundown.txt #oh this is certainly longer than i intended it to be #oh well thank you to those who reads these ramblings of mine tho!

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iamnotbrianmay · 5 years

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(English is not my native language so umm sorry for any occurring mistakes? > <)

*shuffles awkwardly* Hi dear I come bearing writing prompts? *nervous laughter* I swear initially they were meant to be short descriptions BUT EVERYTHING GOT TOTALLY OUT OF HAND BY THE END. MY GOD THEY’RE SO DAMN LONG NOW. YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON’T WANT TO (you could take all of them, some of them, one of them or NONE OF THEM ok? Totally fine!) so please don’t feel pressured? :) And you’re welcome to put your own spin on the prompts, pass them onto other writers if they’re interested or to collab with someone else! :D

But seriously though you can also just treat them as littles “stories” from me (aka. your humble little anon fan) to you, intended for your amusement instead of writing requests alright? Sorry to bombard you so suddenly with all this LOL. BTW you’ll see mostly they’re Brian’s POV because that’s just how my brain is wired lol it’s been like that since day 1 I CAN’T HELP IT.

BTW the “His Majesty, KING!” series by chateauofmyheart (I think she’s most known for the Queen + Rare Words series and her Tumblr blog is chateauofmymind) is THE fic that completely changed my perspective on gender swap themes. After reading that I was fascinated by how good it can be in the hands of brilliant writers. Hence all you’re reading right now ahahahaha it’s like a floodgate been opened LOL.

Alright? Here we go with the first one - Modern day!AU, Poly!Fem!Queen(King) with supernatural elements? (I’m still gonna use male names and pronouns here to avoid confusion but at the same time it’s also because of I wanna see what female names you’d bestow upon them! Surprise me then? :D) Brian always has a connection with the “spiritual side” since he was a kid, sometimes he sees auras, energies, spirits and even on very rare occasions, deities. But it’s not as glamour as it sounds and he has learned the hard way to keep this solely to himself since no one will believe him. And to pretend to be “normal” is very important since not everything he sees is harmless, he has to find ways to avoid being haunted by evil beings, but it doesn’t always work; More often than not his health or mood is affected or he’s chased and stalked and has terrible nightmares hence the insomnia. By the time he got to college, though things still got really bad every once in a while but it felt like he has finally beginning to have situations under some semblance of control. Strangely, all these seemed to largely improved right after he became friends with Roger, Freddie and John, BUT inconveniently started pining after them real quick. His usual tactics were to keep his distance from the people around him but this time he’s drawn to them, feeling oddly alone when they’re not together; How sad is that? Falling in love for the first time in his life yet knowing there’s just no way it’s gonna end happily, but they don’t need to know that it’s fine he’s used to being the outcast. Although his first meetings with each of them does feel a little unusual? They sure are a weird bunch for example, who would own so many of candles? And why so many talismans as well? (Very beautiful though all seems to be handmade perhaps they’re just into DIY stuffs and craftsmanship?) Also the look they gave him? Gleam in their eyes akin to excitement and awe, almost predatory in a sense? Not to mention all those cryptic sentences and meaningful glances shared between the three. It sounds crazy but sometimes they gave off such strong “witchy” vibes as if they’re actual witches like the ones in the movies or something (NOT the Harry Potter kind but more like, The Craft? But in a good way?), that being said Brian does have this distinct feeling that they’re in on some kind of secret which he’s not a part of and it makes him feel a bit sad and left out, but he hides his feelings well(me: or so he thinks haha we’re all familiar with this trope yeah? MOVING ON LOL). These three are lovely together, but Brian’s afraid of screwing things up so he kept his mouth shut and just took whatever he can get. Plot twist LOL one night after a horrible near-death incident (caused by a horrendous curse aimed directly at him and much later on he learned that somehow it was powerful enough to break through the “protection ring” which Roger, Freddie and John had cast around him, WTH?!), he’s eventually saved by the other three and now he really wants some answers and perhaps the truth. It turns out that they’re all actual witches with different abilities and incredible powers including the oblivious Brian, Roger, Freddie and John had known this their entire life and all had proper training except for Brian who isn’t from a witchcraft family. Basically the other three have being protecting and guarding him ever since they’ve met (even though he doesn’t know a damn thing about his own gifts, they were very adamant that he belongs to them and their own “coven”). The four of them actually formed one of the most powerful witch coven ever and the curse was cast by another malicious one that’s jealous and afraid of how powerful they’re going to be once Brian realizes his own gifts, so they tried to get rid of him first. Cue a happy Poly!Fem!OT4 ending and a love confession + getting together yeah? :D And they all work on helping Brian to develop and harness his own powers. Love youuuu. (BTW I’m “obsessed” with Gothic aesthetics and vibes. This seems to be the perfect universe for this type of element to shine right? :D Literally everything ranging from character styles to witchcraft tools could be incorporate with it but I don’t think I did a good job in describing. Orz)

And off to the second prompt now! Shall we? :) Modern day!AU, Poly!Fem!Queen(King)? (Or no gender swap is fine too! Again I’m still using male names and pronouns here same reasons as above), It’s around 20:00 when Brian exited his plane. This past one month period of astronomy conference had been an opportunity of a life time and literally one of his biggest dreams. It’s a huge honor for him to be able to participate but after being away from his three lovers for so long, he does miss them terribly; The schedule of the conference is quite hectic and irregular with very little down time though the four of them do try to facetime or skype each other as often as they can, it still is nothing like being with each other in person, not to mention they’re all busy and more often than not had to resort to just texting in their group chat. His heart now flutters happily thinking about home and them. Just as when he’s about to call for a taxi someone’s hand came up around his waist – it’s John! And apparently John had arranged in advance for some people to come and take care of Brian’s luggage, Him however, remains firmly tucked by Brian’s side. Though they’re both not too keen on PDA Brian finds the urge to kiss him incredibly strong right now. John seems to be the same considering the heat in his eyes and if his smirk is anything to go by - “Wanna go for a ride? Our new car’s pretty neat.” “The one that Roger picked?” “Yeah.” “He agreed that you can drive it?” “Well he’s going to have to since the car keys’ being nicked.” “Oh my god John you stole Roger’s car keys?!” “It’s OUR car so technically it’s not stealing.” TBH John’s expression right now is kinda turning him on okay calm down deep breath they’re still in public god damn it. John proceed to guided Brian towards their ride and it is indeed a beautiful car. While John drove Brian asked Roger and Freddie’s whereabouts and got a mysterious smile and a vague “you’ll see” instead. It’s getting quite late and there’s not much traffic on the road so John might be speeding up a bit to enjoy the thrill. Normally Brian would fret over this but now he’s just happy, content and relaxed after coming home and reuniting with his lovers. He even let out an excited little shout and rolled down the window a bit to enjoy the night breeze when John sped up, which John beamed at him. “This isn’t our way home?” “We’re not going home yet.” “And are you gonna tell me where we’re heading?” “You’ll see.” Again with that cryptic-John-smile. They continue to drive up and deep into the mountains and eventually stoping at a lovely camping site with an elegant looking villa, John explained that they’ve booked this whole area exclusively for the next couple of days; They’ve missed him and all wanted to spend some alone time with each other. The weather is nice so it’s a clear starry night sky above and there’s a small bonfire crackling along with Roger and Freddie’s laughter, who are currently sitting beside it. Brian leaned over to John, planting a chaste kiss on his lips and whispered his thanks but apparently John had something else in mind. As soon as Brian began to pull back John shot out his hands and tugged on Brian’s hair just the way he knows how he likes it, that forced a surprised whimper out of Brian’s mouth and John took the opportunity to practically devour him with hungry kisses and tongue. Things heat up fast and Brian’s soft moans quickly became louder as John wasted no time opening up his shirt, caressing all over his chest and pinching his nipples. Brian let out a high-pitched yelp as John bit on his earlobe suddenly and at the same time dipped his hand into his underwear. Then Freddie showed up knocking disapprovingly on the car door window: “Tsk tsk starting without us already? That’s rude darling!.” Hearing this John let go of Brian’s lips, beamed at Freddie and opened the car door but didn’t retrieve his hand. Brian, now flushed and disheveled, looked up and gave Freddie a sheepish smile but abruptly let out another whimper as John started moving his fingers. He bit his lips in embarrassment, trying to contain his noise but quickly released them as John growled, demanding to hear his voice. Seeing this Freddie smirked and quickly bent down, grabbing Brian’s face and pulling him into another round of passionate and possessive kisses, full of teeth and tongue. “Oi! Stealing my car now John?! Wanker.” Roger appeared scowling but John just laughed and so does Freddie, letting go of Brian’s lips. Brian blinked a few times, willing his now distracted brain to focus on locating Roger and wordlessly held out his hands, beckoning him closer. Roger moved nearer and hummed his appreciation at the current sight on display, taking hold of both of Brian’s wrists with one hand, ran his other one over Brian’s exposed chest and suddenly pinched his nipple perfectly in time with John, who’s fingers just did something amazing inside Brian’s underwear. Brian moaned loudly and arched his back, feeling his orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast but soon let out a confused whimper when he felt John retrieving his touches. Roger laughed, nuzzled behind his ears and growled, “Only if you beg prettily enough.” Then he tugged him up and gestured towards the villa. “Let’s go and make good use of that giant bed.” Freddie nodded, agreeing with Roger, eyes drinking in the sight in front of him and licked his lips. “I’ll put out the bonfire then. Don’t start anything fun without me!” He kissed Brian once more, heatedly and full of promises of more to come, bit his lips playfully and quickly head towards the fire. “I was gonna make him come once before we go inside but your idea is quite tempting.” John smirked at Roger. “Will you do as Roger says love? Beg prettily for us? Should we allow you to come at all?” “Pleasepleaseplease.” Brian could only whimper, already feeling the familiar heavenly float that could only come from being cared for by his lovers. “Good boy. We’re gonna take such good care of you now, you can let go.” Roger began running his hand through Brian’s hair alongside with John, waiting for Freddie to return. Cue a steamy, sexy and loving Poly!Fem!(or not fem)OT4 night yeah? And there may or may not be a huge jacuzzi in the villa that they all made good use of. <3333

Okay now prompt number 3 is the standard type that one usually gets in their askbox if a writer is open for requests - Your take on in the Poly!Queen universe how would Freddie persuaded/convinced/forced?(XD) Brian to play harp for Love of My Life (and why Brian specifically? Besides all the rational reasons for him to be that person, you might be able to come up with something that’s outside the box? :D) and how the whole “Brian eventually constructed the song from piano onto acoustic guitar for live performances” business came about? Do you ever wonder why it’s not Freddie on the piano playing and singing like what he’s done with other songs? Or why not Brian on the piano while Freddie sings like the beginning of their live performances for Save Me? (AGAIN besides all the rational reasons behind it I’m still interested in your take. :P Have you read that Brian’s interview in which he says he thinks Freddie sees him as his own personal Jimi Hendrix and basically said that they’re gonna do this together? And those early year interviews regarding their album A Night at the Opera in which Freddie said he’s gonna make Brian play the harp until his hands drop off LOL and how Freddie describe the harp as the big thingy that angels play? Yeah Freddie we know that Brian’s your angel and SOUL BROTHER ahhhh I’m making myself emotional now QQ)

Ready for prompt number 4? Last one for now haha I think my brain is drying up lol. It just shows how amazing writers are! I salute you! You are wonderful. <333 Poly!Queen? Hot Space!Era (AUish)?, starting with them having a really rough time in the studio and it had been going on for quite a while (Prenter’s presence and words definitely didn’t help. It only gets worse and for some reason Brian has this feeling that he’s been singled out as target) and a particularly nasty fight broke out one day and even more unfortunate is that the fight got personal. And of course it has something to do with the infamous diss track: Back Chat (the fandom seems to think this song is aimed at Brian? though we will never know the truth ummm), Brian left the studio in the end (bitterly he denies the voices in his head calling him a coward for running away. He just wanted some fresh air, and maybe some alcohol in a bar that his bandmates do not frequent so he wouldn’t be found). Somehow, a band that’s also on the rise of fame managed to track him down while he was trying to numb himself quickly by getting plastered. They then offered a pretty sweet deal of him leaving Queen (“Since they don’t seem to love you anymore.” One of them murmured softly to him and hearing this is like been stabbed through the heart.) and joining them instead, not just as the song writer and lead guitarist but also as the lead vocalist of the band, basically saying that he could have everything; Strangely, it turns out that they actually had some “inside information” regarding of what’s been going on in Queen and had been following for a while, all of them keen on taking Brian’s side. Through the drunken fog in his brain his heart sank. Queen has already established the reputation of being a tight unit especially after their success, generally people respect their close bond with each other so there hasn’t been any “headhunting” propositions for a VERY long time; The fact of it appearing again now out of all times only brought out senses of dread, thoughts immediately heading to a dark place in which all the worst-case scenarios resides: is this actually his bandmates asking him to leave through a third party? Are they so fed up with him that they couldn’t even stand to break the news in person? Is this them breaking up with him? He’s suddenly so cold and dizzy that he started swaying unsteadily, the band then quickly offered to bring him back to their own brand-new recording studio for a tour and maybe some rest. Feeling drunk and resigned Brian just watched silently with half lidded eyes as they maneuvered him out of his seat. As they were about to usher him out of the bar suddenly all motion stopped as the band abruptly came face to face with Roger (eyes narrowed and fists balled, obviously fuming), Freddie (seemingly nonchalant with raised eyebrow but his coiled muscles as if ready for a fight totally says otherwise) and John (his face somehow even more unreadable than usual, eyes glinting ominously). Sensing the atmosphere shift, those who were around Brian all collectively took a step back and for some unknown reason, a few guilty looks appeared on some of their faces. Brian started swaying again without the support and Freddie quickly appeared besides Brian, wrapping tightly around him and helped carrying his weight. However, still feeling angry and devasted Brian tried to wriggle out of his embrace but found himself drunk and too slow and did not have the strength at to pry open Freddie’s “iron grip” at all (yeah how could he forget that Freddie is in fact a damn good athlete and a boxer, John also joined him in the gym these days these two often had great fun together). Sensing Brian’s struggle Freddie only wordlessly tightens his hold; Brian eventually gave up trying to get free after a few attempts instead just bit his lips (nervous habit kicking in now) and looked away, unwilling to face his three bandmates and lovers. “Where the hell do you think you’re taking OUR guitarist to?” Roger snarled, also coming up besides Freddie to help supporting Brian. After a quick check up on him, he frowned when he found that Brian’s skin is cold and clammy. “It’s great that you guys want to look out for OUR Brimi, but we’ll take it from here now.” There’s a storm brewing behind Freddie’s eyes, dismissal clear in his voice. Yet in the same time he’s very mindful of the drunk Brian now stiffly resides in his and Roger’s arms, careful to not cause him anymore physical discomfort. “It seems that a certain rat has been feeding you all kinds of information on us? Things that he’s not supposed to pry and definitely not supposed to blab about?” With a dark edge to his voice, John stepped forward, staring down at the few guilty faces in front of him, smiling cold and sharp. “Well he’s not around anymore, make of that what you will.” Slowly Brian blinked up at John through his drunken haze in surprise, it has to be Prenter that they’re talking about, right? But how— “Let’s get back to the hotel, Bri’s not feeling so well.” Roger grunted, tugging the other three out of the bar impatiently, his hold on Brian is steadfast and unwavering. “Come on guys, get in the car.” “Please come back with us Brimi? We know that you’re still hurting but I promise you, we’re gonna get through this together, alright?” Well now that’s just unfair, Freddie’s bringing out his nickname now in that soft tone AND looking at him like he’s something precious, really not fair at all. Brian could only nod, not trusting his voice yet but Freddie beamed brightly at him. “I’m sorry, baby. We’ll all have a long talk and fill you in on the details of Prenter after you get some rest okay?.” Now that’s just cheating. They’re in the car now and John’s petting his hair oh so gently, expertly lulling him to sleep. Cue the OT4!boys have a long hard talk about EVERYTHING and their relationship that involves lots of shouting, bitching, bickering, crying, apologizing and making up! HAPPY ENDINGS HELL YEAH and the other three explained how the whole Prenter thing came to light and with evidence, they fired him immediately. Also John may or may not have “convinced” (“I’d say threatened is more like it.” Roger snickered.) the other band’s manager to give up the location of the bar that they had sooo enthusiastically called him from, exclaiming Brian May’s about to quit Queen and join them and that they were trying to bring him back to the studio now.

I hope these brightened your day? Maybe if I’m lucky enough they could inspire you a bit? Perhaps they could be accepted as your writing prompts? :P Anyway I love you! Have a beautiful day and life hon. <333

****

Gosh thank you so much for submitting this anon! I really like them and I feel like we could add a lot to them if you wanted to speak to me about your ideas, so shoot me a private dm, yeah?

Also, you have a surprise coming for you in the next few days so stay vigilant of that!

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deaky-disco-queen · 5 years

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(English is not my native language so umm sorry for any occurring mistakes? > <)

*shuffles awkwardly* Hi dear I come bearing writing prompts? *nervous laughter* I swear initially they were meant to be short descriptions BUT EVERYTHING GOT TOTALLY OUT OF HAND BY THE END. MY GOD THEY’RE SO DAMN LONG NOW. YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO (you could take all of them, some of them, one of them or NONE OF THEM ok? Totally fine!) so please don’t feel pressured? :) And you’re welcome to put your own spin on the prompts, pass them onto other writers if they’re interested or to collab with someone else! :D

Alright? Here we go with the first one -

Modern day!AU, Poly!Fem!Queen(King) with supernatural elements? (I’m still gonna use male names and pronouns here to avoid confusion but at the same time it’s also because of I wanna see what female names you’d bestow upon them! Surprise me then? :D) Brian always has a connection with the “spiritual side” since he was a kid, sometimes he sees auras, energies, spirits and even on very rare occasions, deities. But it's not as glamour as it sounds and he has learned the hard way to keep this solely to himself since no one will believe him. And to pretend to be "normal" is very important since not everything he sees is harmless, he has to find ways to avoid being haunted by evil beings, but it doesn't always work; More often than not his health or mood is affected or he's chased and stalked and has terrible nightmares hence the insomnia.

By the time he got to college, though things still got really bad every once in a while but it felt like he has finally beginning to have situations under some semblance of control. Strangely, all these seemed to largely improved right after he became friends with Roger, Freddie and John, BUT inconveniently started pining after them real quick. His usual tactics were to keep his distance from the people around him but this time he’s drawn to them, feeling oddly alone when they’re not together; How sad is that? Falling in love for the first time in his life yet knowing there’s just no way it’s gonna end happily, but they don't need to know that it's fine he's used to being the outcast. Although his first meetings with each of them does feel a little unusual? They sure are a weird bunch for example, who would own so many of candles? And why so many talismans as well? (Very beautiful though all seems to be handmade perhaps they’re just into DIY stuffs and craftsmanship?) Also the look they gave him? Gleam in their eyes akin to excitement and awe, almost predatory in a sense? Not to mention all those cryptic sentences and meaningful glances shared between the three.

It sounds crazy but sometimes they gave off such strong "witchy" vibes as if they're actual witches like the ones in the movies or something (NOT the Harry Potter kind but more like, The Craft? But in a good way?), that being said Brian does have this distinct feeling that they're in on some kind of secret which he's not a part of and it makes him feel a bit sad and left out, but he hides his feelings well(me: or so he thinks haha we’re all familiar with this trope yeah? MOVING ON LOL). These three are lovely together, but Brian’s afraid of screwing things up so he kept his mouth shut and just took whatever he can get.

Plot twist LOL one night after a horrible near-death incident (caused by a horrendous curse aimed directly at him and much later on he learned that somehow it was powerful enough to break through the “protection ring” which Roger, Freddie and John had cast around him, WTH?!), he's eventually saved by the other three and now he really wants some answers and perhaps the truth.

It turns out that they're all actual witches with different abilities and incredible powers including the oblivious Brian, Roger, Freddie and John had known this their entire life and all had proper training except for Brian who isn't from a witchcraft family. Basically the other three have being protecting and guarding him ever since they've met (even though he doesn’t know a damn thing about his own gifts, they were very adamant that he belongs to them and their own “coven”). The four of them actually formed one of the most powerful witch coven ever and the curse was cast by another malicious one that's jealous and afraid of how powerful they're going to be once Brian realizes his own gifts, so they tried to get rid of him first.

Cue a happy Poly!Fem!OT4 ending and a love confession + getting together yeah? :D And they all work on helping Brian to develop and harness his own powers. Love youuuu. (BTW I’m “obsessed” with Gothic aesthetics and vibes. This seems to be the perfect universe for this type of element to shine right? :D Literally everything ranging from character styles to witchcraft tools could be incorporate with it but I don’t think I did a good job in describing. Orz)

And off to the second prompt now! Shall we? :)

Modern day!AU, Poly!Fem!Queen(King)? (Or no gender swap is fine too! Again I’m still using male names and pronouns here same reasons as above), It’s around 20:00 when Brian exited his plane. This past one month period of astronomy conference had been an opportunity of a life time and literally one of his biggest dreams. It’s a huge honor for him to be able to participate but after being away from his three lovers for so long, he does miss them terribly; The schedule of the conference is quite hectic and irregular with very little down time though the four of them do try to facetime or skype each other as often as they can, it still is nothing like being with each other in person, not to mention they’re all busy and more often than not had to resort to just texting in their group chat. His heart now flutters happily thinking about home and them.

Just as when he’s about to call for a taxi someone’s hand came up around his waist – it’s John! And apparently John had arranged in advance for some people to come and take care of Brian’s luggage, Him however, remains firmly tucked by Brian’s side. Though they’re both not too keen on PDA Brian finds the urge to kiss him incredibly strong right now. John seems to be the same considering the heat in his eyes and if his smirk is anything to go by -

“Wanna go for a ride? Our new car’s pretty neat.”

“The one that Roger picked?”

“Yeah.”

“He agreed that you can drive it?”

“Well he’s going to have to since the car keys’ being nicked.”

“Oh my god John you stole Roger’s car keys?!”

“It’s OUR car so technically it’s not stealing.” TBH John’s expression right now is kinda turning him on okay calm down deep breath they’re still in public god damn it.

John proceed to guided Brian towards their ride and it is indeed a beautiful car. While John drove Brian asked Roger and Freddie’s whereabouts and got a mysterious smile and a vague “you’ll see” instead. It’s getting quite late and there’s not much traffic on the road so John might be speeding up a bit to enjoy the thrill. Normally Brian would fret over this but now he’s just happy, content and relaxed after coming home and reuniting with his lovers. He even let out an excited little shout and rolled down the window a bit to enjoy the night breeze when John sped up, which John beamed at him.

“This isn’t our way home?”

“We’re not going home yet.”

“And are you gonna tell me where we’re heading?”

“You’ll see.” Again with that cryptic-John-smile.

They continue to drive up and deep into the mountains and eventually stoping at a lovely camping site with an elegant looking villa, John explained that they’ve booked this whole area exclusively for the next couple of days; They’ve missed him and all wanted to spend some alone time with each other. The weather is nice so it’s a clear starry night sky above and there’s a small bonfire crackling along with Roger and Freddie’s laughter, who are currently sitting beside it. Brian leaned over to John, planting a chaste kiss on his lips and whispered his thanks but apparently John had something else in mind.

As soon as Brian began to pull back John shot out his hands and tugged on Brian’s hair just the way he knows how he likes it, that forced a surprised whimper out of Brian’s mouth and John took the opportunity to practically devour him with hungry kisses and tongue. Things heat up fast and Brian’s soft moans quickly became louder as John wasted no time opening up his shirt, caressing all over his chest and pinching his nipples. Brian let out a high-pitched yelp as John bit on his earlobe suddenly and at the same time dipped his hand into his underwear. Then Freddie showed up knocking disapprovingly on the car door window: “Tsk tsk starting without us already? That’s rude darling!.” Hearing this John let go of Brian’s lips, beamed at Freddie and opened the car door but didn’t retrieve his hand. Brian, now flushed and disheveled, looked up and gave Freddie a sheepish smile but abruptly let out another whimper as John started moving his fingers. He bit his lips in embarrassment, trying to contain his noise but quickly released them as John growled, demanding to hear his voice. Seeing this Freddie smirked and quickly bent down, grabbing Brian’s face and pulling him into another round of passionate and possessive kisses, full of teeth and tongue. “Oi! Stealing my car now John?! Wanker.” Roger appeared scowling but John just laughed and so does Freddie, letting go of Brian’s lips. Brian blinked a few times, willing his now distracted brain to focus on locating Roger and wordlessly held out his hands, beckoning him closer. Roger moved nearer and hummed his appreciation at the current sight on display, taking hold of both of Brian’s wrists with one hand, ran his other one over Brian’s exposed chest and suddenly pinched his nipple perfectly in time with John, who’s fingers just did something amazing inside Brian’s underwear. Brian moaned loudly and arched his back, feeling his orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast but soon let out a confused whimper when he felt John retrieving his touches. Roger laughed, nuzzled behind his ears and growled, “Only if you beg prettily enough.” Then he tugged him up and gestured towards the villa. “Let’s go and make good use of that giant bed.” Freddie nodded, agreeing with Roger, eyes drinking in the sight in front of him and licked his lips. “I’ll put out the bonfire then. Don’t start anything fun without me!” He kissed Brian once more, heatedly and full of promises of more to come, bit his lips playfully and quickly head towards the fire. “I was gonna make him come once before we go inside but your idea is quite tempting.” John smirked at Roger. “Will you do as Roger says love? Beg prettily for us? Should we allow you to come at all?” “Pleasepleaseplease.” Brian could only whimper, already feeling the familiar heavenly float that could only come from being cared for by his lovers. “Good boy. We’re gonna take such good care of you now, you can let go.” Roger began running his hand through Brian’s hair alongside with John, waiting for Freddie to return.

Cue a steamy, sexy and loving Poly!Fem!(or not fem)OT4 night yeah? And there may or may not be a huge jacuzzi in the villa that they all made good use of. <3333

Ready for prompt number 4? Last one for now haha I think my brain is drying up lol. It just shows how amazing writers are! I salute you! You are wonderful. <333

Poly!Queen? Hot Space!Era (AUish)?, starting with them having a really rough time in the studio and it had been going on for quite a while (Prenter’s presence and words definitely didn’t help. It only gets worse and for some reason Brian has this feeling that he’s been singled out as target) and a particularly nasty fight broke out one day and even more unfortunate is that the fight got personal. And of course it has something to do with the infamous diss track: Back Chat (the fandom seems to think this song is aimed at Brian? though we will never know the truth ummm), Brian left the studio in the end (bitterly he denies the voices in his head calling him a coward for running away. He just wanted some fresh air, and maybe some alcohol in a bar that his bandmates do not frequent so he wouldn’t be found). Somehow, a band that’s also on the rise of fame managed to track him down while he was trying to numb himself quickly by getting plastered. They then offered a pretty sweet deal of him leaving Queen (“Since they don’t seem to love you anymore.” One of them murmured softly to him and hearing this is like been stabbed through the heart.) and joining them instead, not just as the song writer and lead guitarist but also as the lead vocalist of the band, basically saying that he could have everything; Strangely, it turns out that they actually had some "inside information" regarding of what's been going on in Queen and had been following for a while, all of them keen on taking Brian's side. Through the drunken fog in his brain his heart sank. Queen has already established the reputation of being a tight unit especially after their success, generally people respect their close bond with each other so there hasn’t been any “headhunting” propositions for a VERY long time; The fact of it appearing again now out of all times only brought out senses of dread, thoughts immediately heading to a dark place in which all the worst-case scenarios resides: is this actually his bandmates asking him to leave through a third party? Are they so fed up with him that they couldn’t even stand to break the news in person? Is this them breaking up with him? He’s suddenly so cold and dizzy that he started swaying unsteadily, the band then quickly offered to bring him back to their own brand-new recording studio for a tour and maybe some rest. Feeling drunk and resigned Brian just watched silently with half lidded eyes as they maneuvered him out of his seat. As they were about to usher him out of the bar suddenly all motion stopped as the band abruptly came face to face with Roger (eyes narrowed and fists balled, obviously fuming), Freddie (seemingly nonchalant with raised eyebrow but his coiled muscles as if ready for a fight totally says otherwise) and John (his face somehow even more unreadable than usual, eyes glinting ominously). Sensing the atmosphere shift, those who were around Brian all collectively took a step back and for some unknown reason, a few guilty looks appeared on some of their faces. Brian started swaying again without the support and Freddie quickly appeared besides Brian, wrapping tightly around him and helped carrying his weight. However, still feeling angry and devasted Brian tried to wriggle out of his embrace but found himself drunk and too slow and did not have the strength at to pry open Freddie’s “iron grip” at all (yeah how could he forget that Freddie is in fact a damn good athlete and a boxer, John also joined him in the gym these days these two often had great fun together). Sensing Brian’s struggle Freddie only wordlessly tightens his hold; Brian eventually gave up trying to get free after a few attempts instead just bit his lips (nervous habit kicking in now) and looked away, unwilling to face his three bandmates and lovers.

“Where the hell do you think you’re taking OUR guitarist to?” Roger snarled, also coming up besides Freddie to help supporting Brian. After a quick check up on him, he frowned when he found that Brian’s skin is cold and clammy.

“It’s great that you guys want to look out for OUR Brimi, but we’ll take it from here now.” There’s a storm brewing behind Freddie’s eyes, dismissal clear in his voice. Yet in the same time he’s very mindful of the drunk Brian now stiffly resides in his and Roger’s arms, careful to not cause him anymore physical discomfort.

“It seems that a certain rat has been feeding you all kinds of information on us? Things that he’s not supposed to pry and definitely not supposed to blab about?” With a dark edge to his voice, John stepped forward, staring down at the few guilty faces in front of him, smiling cold and sharp. “Well he’s not around anymore, make of that what you will.” Slowly Brian blinked up at John through his drunken haze in surprise, it has to be Prenter that they’re talking about, right? But how—

“Let’s get back to the hotel, Bri’s not feeling so well.” Roger grunted, tugging the other three out of the bar impatiently, his hold on Brian is steadfast and unwavering. “Come on guys, get in the car.”

“Please come back with us Brimi? We know that you’re still hurting but I promise you, we’re gonna get through this together, alright?” Well now that’s just unfair, Freddie’s bringing out his nickname now in that soft tone AND looking at him like he’s something precious, really not fair at all. Brian could only nod, not trusting his voice yet but Freddie beamed brightly at him.

“I’m sorry, baby. We’ll all have a long talk and fill you in on the details of Prenter after you get some rest okay?.” Now that’s just cheating. They’re in the car now and John’s petting his hair oh so gently, expertly lulling him to sleep.

Cue the OT4!boys have a long hard talk about EVERYTHING and their relationship that involves lots of shouting, bitching, bickering, crying, apologizing and making up! HAPPY ENDINGS HELL YEAH and the other three explained how the whole Prenter thing came to light and with evidence, they fired him immediately. Also John may or may not have “convinced” (“I’d say threatened is more like it.” Roger snickered.) the other band’s manager to give up the location of the bar that they had sooo enthusiastically called him from, exclaiming Brian May’s about to quit Queen and join them and that they were trying to bring him back to the studio now.

+++

First off, you don't have to apologize for any errors, english isn't my first language either and I didn't even notice any errors; your english is completely fine

Second, those prompts are lovely and I might write something for them once I have access to my laptop again (so far I'm only writing on my phone and while that works, it's not ideal) because it would end up a bit longer than what usually write for snippets.

Thanl you so much for this lovely, I really enjoyed this!

#submission #poly!king #poly!queen

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jacobthespaceguy · 3 years

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New life, new computer & new perspective.

I wrote this half a year ago and forgot to post this. Enjoy.

Dear Cosmonauts,

Greetings! It’s me, your boy! Did you miss me? No? Yeah, not too surprised. To be honest, I would be genuinely surprised if anyone actually read these. It’ll never stop me though. I love using this as some kind of escape. I think I’m trying to say that I’m officially back to blogging! Well actually, I never was in a state of, “blogging.” I just simply make a blog post every once in a while. So instead of being back, I guess I will simply start blogging more often. At the very least, try to. In an ideal world, I would create entries at least once a month, that’s not too much to ask for... just a few paragraphs every month. Sounds easy enough... On that note, it probably isn’t. But maybe it is. It depends on your personality.

Laziness. Saying laziness defines me is an understatement. I don’t want to be lazy nor do I wish I was. I’m honestly not too sure why I'm so lazy. I think this pandemic just made it really bad. Working from home 3/5 days of the week changes you. Early on, I figured I would be able to use this extra time to work on more music and I even started being a mixing/mastering engineer for a friend of mines. However, I ended up using this extra time to stay in bed and be useless. Some would say I'm being hard on myself but I'm not. I stay in bed and I waste my time, my friend's time, and overall, I'm just a useless human being. I feel like a failure sometimes. However, I do hold on to the hope that I can change. I want to change. Some days, I tell myself, "I'll be productive this time," but then stay in bed half the day. By the time I'm up and eaten breakfast and done my whole morning routine... it'll be 2 o'clock and the day is practically over. It's not really over, but it'll feel like it. It sucks. Now the pandemic is ending and I'll probably have to go back to work full time soon. I have no idea how I'm going to cope with that. I'm already depresso mode from things changing so much around me that I feel like a hermit and want to hide under my desk for the rest of my life. I hate change. I hate it, hate it, HATE IT. I know change is good and if my music career takes off, then they'll be a lot of change. Although, I would rather endure that kind of pressure than have to go back to work. Every day to get to my work is a 40-minute drive there, and an hour drive back since traffic is so bad. I know other people have it worse, but with how tired I am after a shift, I have days where I lay on my bedroom floor doing nothing and or nap until I finally get up to shower, eat dinner and finally get to the home activities I wanted to. However, at this point, it'll be 7 PM and I'm too tired to do anything other than watch YouTube videos until 1 AM, and then it's finally time to go to bed. It's a struggle and I can't seem to escape it.

I don't even know what I'm writing anymore and lost track of where I was going with this. I guess it's to complain about hating work and or my laziness? I originally started writing this post with the intention to talk about my new computer and how writing a blog post with it is a vibe. I bought a mid-2017 MacBook Pro back in August of 2019. It was the most absolute base model and only had 128 gb of storage and 8 gb of ram. WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF! I loved the flexibility of having a decent laptop for when I travel, but this was a bad purchase that left me financially ruined. I want to say that it was a terrible machine and I hated it. However, it ran decently most of the time and I must confess that Apple just knows what they're doing when designing computers. I can't argue though, since I started this blog, I became an Apple fanboy and I'm seriously buried in the Apple ecosystem. My phone, laptop, tablet at one point but sold, my credit card, my watch, earphones, and tracking devices are all connected to Apple and they basically run my life. However, my main machine will likely always be a Windows desktop.

Back to the MacBook Pro, my 2017 laptop having 128 gb made the machine unusable for me. Apple offering a 128 gb machine was a cardinal sin and I do the happy dance every morning knowing they no longer exist. After downloading Reason and Logic Pro, I had about 8 gb for any else I wanted to use. I couldn't even have all of Logic's sounds installed. Ugh. I never used the machine because I resented it so much. However, I recently started using it to record my vocals because the fans (despite going up 1000 db when I record in Reason) were quieter than having my desktop fans on when recording so I opted to use my MacBook Pro to record instead. In addition, it was really nice to have when I was on the go and needed a computer. Despite being a baseline laptop, it ran the project file for my song, "Nothing Was The Same," decently enough for me to get some mixing done at my Dad's house late last year. It still chugged pretty bad when I was traversing through Reason's sequencer. My final straw was when I wanted to try a vocal plug-in that refused to work on my PC so I pulled out my MacBook Pro and installed it on there and it worked perfectly. I was like, "Man, I wish this MacBook Pro just had a little more storage so I can actually use it efficiently." That's when the idea came to me, "Holy crap, let's just buy a new MacBook."

I would constantly go to Apple's website and look at their newest 16" MacBook Pro. It's when Apple finally let go of the butterfly switches on their keyboard and went back to a scissor-switch design and improved the heck out of the performance. It was a beautiful machine and I wanted it ever since they announced it. So I went back on Apple's website last week after testing that vocal plug-in and was reminded of the horrendous price. $3,000 for a decently specced computer was just too much. Someone on Reddit was telling me how great Apple's refurbished computers are and that they're basically brand new aside from the regular box it comes in. So I decided I wanted to get a refurbished MacBook Pro. However, the next morning, I decided to do a little more research and I thank God I did because after a little research, I saw how much better the new 13" M1 chip MacBook Pro was over the current 16" Intel MacBook Pro and that it was the best laptop to buy. Even better, it's cheaper. So after more research, I decided to buy a refurbished max specced out M1 MacBook Pro. I finally have 2 tb of storage. 2 TB!!! I have more storage on this laptop than on my Windows desktop. I also went with silver over space grey like my other MacBook simply because it looks so much cooler. I don't care for space grey anymore. Something about the classic silver is where it's at. Also, this keyboard is amazing! I'm using it right now to type this. The Touch Bar is pretty cool too. I thought it would be a weird adjustment but it was actually pretty seamless. My only complaint is that it's easier to tap it and do something while typing on the keyboard. Happened to me twice while typing this. Although, all I did was open the emoji window so it wasn't even an issue. However, I think I type a bit in an unconventional way than most of you reading this do so just ignore me. I would also like to brag about how quiet this computer is. I haven't heard the fan once and it's dead quiet. In fact, the M1 MacBook Air doesn't even have a fan, that's how good this new Apple silicon is. Lastly, I haven't had the computer heat up at all yet. I'm typing this using safari with a few tabs open, Logic Pro in the background and there's no part of the computer that's hot right now. My lap would've melted if I was using my 2017 MacBook and it's in great shape! I want to say this computer is a beast but, to be honest, I haven't had a chance to stress test it yet. I've had the computer for less than a week. I will definitely keep you all updated.

Wow, I can't believe I typed all of this simply because I imagined Adam Young in his basement late at night with his MacBook Pro writing his magnificent blog posts that inspired me to start this blog in the first place. For whatever reason, it's a real vibe for me and as I was fumbling through Logic Pro, I had the idea to write a blog and all of this entry just poured out from my brain to this text box. I sincerely apologize to anyone reading this far and to my future self who probably just spent 20 minutes proofreading and fixing errors I made. I'd imagine all the run-on sentences are probably infuriating. I think I spent 40 minutes to an hour just writing this.

In conclusion, I'm writing blog posts again and plan to release new entries at least somewhat often. I have quite a few ideas of things I want to talk about, so you guys will get to pick my brain soon enough. In addition, I may go public about this blog. It is public but I announced it a long time ago and I wasn't very big. But with my podcast and additional following over the years, I may finally get some readers. I'd be surprised if more than 3 people have seen my blog which I'm not upset about. I'm treating this as my personal time capsule and it's fun to go back and read. In addition, I'm going to die someday. I don't know when and how, but it provides a little bit of comfort knowing a potential love one may find this one day after my unfortunate death and get hours of personal content that they can read over any time. I don't mean to get morbid and I don't mean to say my blog is the second coming of Christ. I don't know what I'm saying other than I hope you enjoy it. Anywho, I plan to make blog posts more coherent and not so all over the place. I went from being lazy/hating work, MacBook Pros, and then to my death, all in the same post. I just got so excited once I started typing and couldn't stop. More posts to come. Thank you and goodnight.

-Sincerely,

Jacob McDonnell

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gaiatheorist · 5 years

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Delusions of good-enough.

Last week’s ‘Jagged Little Pill’-is-bad blog didn’t happen, I’d started retrospectively analysing the lyrics that resonated ‘then’, from a perspective of ‘now’. ‘Jagged Little HRT-patch’ if you will, reflecting that the words haven’t changed, we have, in the 20+ years since the album. (For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good album, there’s still a bit of the flailing-stomping-non-mainstream about me.)

@samdylanfinch was re-tweeted into my Twitter timeline, and another piece of the jigsaw-that-is-me almost, but not quite fitted into position. (It’s a million piece jigsaw, it’s all sky, I’m trying to complete it in the dark, during a hurricane, and I’m wearing boxing gloves... I’m on a waiting list for therapy.) I’ve accepted for a very long time that I have a tendency to push people away, and always assumed it was a protective mechanism. The faux-bravado, styling myself as a heartless bitch who just doesn’t ‘need’ friends, or relationships is entrenched. I joke about my reverse-Midas touch being why I don’t engage with very many people. I deliberately distance, I deliberately disturb and disgust, to keep most-people at arms length. I don’t ‘get’ people, a lot of ‘me’ was very atypical even before the brain injuries, always-outsider, never quite ‘fitting’, so I just stopped trying after a while.

I need to watch myself not to go off on the “Am I Frankenstein, or the creature?” slant again, whatever I am, I just ‘am’, potentially some of it can be unpicked and re-learned, some of it I might just have to live with, and work around.

I’m ‘doing it’ now, one of my behaviours, my superiority complex. I read the whole thread, about some damaged-people running from relationships, and I identified heavily with that. Then Little Miss Twist decided to show her hand, and I had a brief, but intense period of “No, I don’t, I’m better than that!” in relation to the ‘pleasing’ element. There is no ‘better’ here, it’s just a shade of different, I don’t approval-seek in the same way as ‘most’ people, and I can be very prickly about the ways some-people do it. That’s unkind, so I try to ‘catch myself’ before I start arguments. You wouldn’t believe how much of my waking hours are spent distracting and deflecting myself from starting arguments about things that happened decades ago. (Seriously, I’ve had one bubbling up for weeks about a family member who didn’t vaccinate her kids against MMR, twenty years ago.) I’m not withholding that argument to avoid upsetting her, I’m sitting on it because there’s no need for it, it would achieve nothing.

The adorable counsellor, who saw me for 16 sessions, when he was only supposed to allocate six, periodically asked me “Are you a bit of a people-pleaser?”, and it made me bristle. I can see his logic now, in light of the Twitter thread, but then, I misconstrued the phrase as ‘door-mat’, and absolutely denied it. I had been a door-mat, for far too long, with the ex, and to some extent with my last job. With the ex, it was path-of-least-resistance, the things he’d tantrum-smash were always mine, it was a preservation-behaviour. With work, I continued to absorb more and more workload, refining systems and processes to make them more effective, thinking I’d matter-more. I was approval-seeking right up until the last minute, making sure everything was as in-order as it could be before I left, because I didn’t want colleagues to think badly of me. That’s my ‘different’ door-mat behaviour I don’t sulk for weeks if nobody notices my new hair-do, and, while I do have intense periods of over-thinking whether I might have upset some-people, I’m not overly-concerned about being ‘liked.’ My people-pleasing is generally trying to help more than I harm, and usually dumping myself at the bottom of the priority-list in the process.

It’s a learned behaviour, some of it is useful, some of it less-so. My Adverse Childhood Experiences led to me developing some entirely understandable hyper-vigilance and risk-mapping analytical behaviours. In the last mental health assessment, I referred to myself as ‘a machine’, ‘a robot’ and ‘a computer’, and I’m snort-laughing at myself for being ridiculous, I’m a human being, it’s just difficult to articulate the tangential-triage processes of my brain. ‘Over-thinking’ doesn’t even touch on it, I don’t feel safe unless I’ve considered every possible outcome (usually some improbable ones, too) to a decision, which is bizarre, given my tendency to make incredibly unwise decisions when I’m less-lucid.

That’s the foundation of it, for me, the disordered thinking is rooted in not being safe, so building in these weird coping strategies, to make me feel ‘safer’, more ‘in control.’ Also to ‘please’ people, with my “I’ve already done it.” and “I’ve made it better.” behaviours. Back to being a show-off, and a try-hard, neither of which are particularly admirable behaviours. I don’t want to be ‘pretty’ or ‘feminine’, those signal-danger for me, so I don’t seek vanity-validation, and I do allow myself to become far too annoyed when I see other people doing it. I don’t want to be perceived as weak, or vulnerable, and I scare the shit out of people ‘proving myself’. (There are two text conversations on my phone, my son very gently telling me that if I wait until he’s home from Uni he’ll help me erect my poly-tunnel, and a jokey one from a friend suggesting I might not have thought to secure the cover, in case of high winds ‘because you’re a woman’. The poly-tunnel is up, very well secured, and I ‘beat’ the average time to build it quoted on the reviews. Show-off.) That’s knowing that I am both weak and vulnerable, entrenched by being conditioned-female, never-quite-enough, and then over-layered with 20+ years of the ex, and Father-in-law telling me what I couldn’t-do. I’m never going to be ‘pretty’ or ‘strong’, so I chose to be ‘intelligent’ instead. Then I had a brain haemorrhage, which has significantly impacted on some of my cognitive functioning.

I have two simultaneous ear-worms, the ‘Daddy never came to my ball games’ at the end of Tim Minchin’s ‘Dark Side’, and snatches of Alanis Morissette’s ‘Perfect.’ My ‘Historical and Complicating Factors’ are rooted in dysfunctional early attachment, over-layered with significant abuse. My parents were profoundly unstable people, both prone to outbursts of violence, there is no ‘safe place’ when you’re never sure which one of them is going to hit you next, but bruises fade in time. The emotional aspects of that, and various other elements of my childhood are more difficult to overcome. There was no trust, ever, the people who were supposed to keep me safe didn’t, and compounded that by continually reminding me that I wasn’t good enough. If I scored 9/10 on a test, Dad would ask me what I’d gotten wrong, rather than congratulate me for trying. Mum would fly into physically abusive rages, and blame-shift that *everything* was my fault. (Yes, I did throw out “I didn’t ASK to be born!” a few times, then I just stopped reacting when she hit me, useless talent number-whatever, both in terms of taking showers of punches without flinching, and being able to split up bar-fights, bruises fade in time.)

It was predictable, coming from that background, that I’d be vulnerable to further abuse-of-power relationships, the boyfriend-before-the-ex was a very damaged creature, who became physically abusive. The first time he hit me, I accepted the apology and reassurances that it would never happen again, the second time, I broke his nose. The ex wasn’t physically abusive, he was coercive, controlling, and of the opinion that the ring on my finger meant he could put his penis wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I had ‘nowhere to go’, so I went into myself, physically present, but not emotionally, for most of the 20 years we were together, I was living a half-life. (Whoa on the blame-shift, there, I’m down-shifting his behaviours against how ‘unkind’ I was in withdrawing my attention and affection, knowing how needy he was.)

That ‘going into myself’ distancing behaviour is part of the over-arching issue. I ‘know’ that most people don’t intend to harm me, but what’s the point in taking the risk that they might? I don’t engage with people very much, I’m ‘stuck’ as that tiny little girl who wasn’t invited to parties because she wet herself, or that lanky teenager who was too intelligent to be in the gangs of the local kids, and too dirty-poor to be invited to the houses of the kids she was in classes with. Outsider-alien, I never quite grew out of the “I MUST be adopted, I can’t possibly belong here!” phase. It’s probably more than ten years since I realised that it’s not just the ‘not engaging’, I also actively push people away. Not quite as extreme as an abused child deliberately soiling themselves as a distancing tactic, but I can be pretty disgusting at times. It’s a tolerance-test, I say or do some pretty horrendous things to encourage ‘natural attrition’ of people, sometimes I just ‘drop off’, because I don’t have the emotional capacity to respond appropriately.

At the very bottom of this rabbit-hole, I need to unpick the historical messages that I wasn’t good-enough from the fabric of now. I need to accept that what I have now has to be the foundation for whatever comes next, I can’t change the past, I can only shape my future reactions. I need to ease myself out of burrowing-behaviours, to stop running away from my emotions, and potentially engage-more, cut-off less. There are a very small number of people in my life who are very important to me, I need to rid myself of the notion that I’m too-cling, too-demanding, too-’me’, and accept that people who choose to engage with me do it of their own volition. I’m never going to be Ms Popular, and I don’t want to be, I’ll settle for good-enough. I’m damaged, I’m not broken, I’ll never be perfect, but no-one really is. I need to stop the old behaviour of ‘getting the first punch in’, and pushing people to reject me, it isn’t inevitable that they will. Keeping the whole world at arms length is incredibly draining, the bitch-armour is heavy, I need to learn to accept that I’m not ‘stealing’ attention or affection if it is freely given, that I might just deserve it.

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perdudanslesbenedictions · 7 years

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Learning to speak French and its challenges for myself and other learners

Speaking/learning a second language requires a certain level of patience and the ability to take constructive criticism. SOMETHING I AM VERY BAD AT TAKING!!! I feel so bad for people who are learning English in the States. Why? Because I have seen people correct foreigners or ‘New’ Americans for using British English or saying something even slightly incorrectly, when more than half of us can’t even use the word supposedly correctly. Soon I will be flying to Europe a lot for work and I am going to have to deal with one of my least favourite group of Francophones... Americans. Not all of them are horrendous... Just 90% of them MDR. Nothing irritates me more than someone nit-picking my pronunciation than a group of people who think they know it all because they learned from a textbook, or that one French guy from Paris that they dated 4 years ago. Not that I have issues with one particular group of speakers like the Parisians, but there are so many words in French and so many different accents and dialects. My French is a bit bizarre to be honest; however, it is not incomprehensible. How does ones second language qualify as bizarre??? When your interests, culture, practical experience, and instructors don’t align. Like stated previously, I started learning French from my family, some members who moved there when I was very young, followed by some in middle school from a French/American woman who taught us text book French. So I had a little background before I began speaking airport French to Quebecois and French passengers on Lufthansa and Air Canada, as a contracted agent. 50% of my Francophone passengers were Quebecois, a good 20% were French. The rest were Swiss, Belgian, or of African origin. My ear became fine tuned to different types of French, but my tongue and my interests went with the Canadians. It already conflicted with my Senegalese Friends who worked at the airport who were trying to teach me a more international French. Their French stuck with me too. Their grammar was impeccable!!! When they helped me correct my papers, they taught me worldly phrases to describe my own life. At the time, for example, I was une préposée aux bagages. Not a phrase you learn in beginners French. My college instructor was one of the best French speakers in the nation. In my opinion, à mon avis, there is French from a certain region, and then there exists textbook French. This is the same French you might hear in Franco media. It is without a distinct accent, it is perfect grammar,and you will not hear this French at the bar in Marseilles or on the streets of Paris. Ange, my instructor, spoke this perfect French while he taught us pronunciation and other grammar aspects. Ange knew that I had a profound love for Quebec. He also knew that our class textbook taught a lot of Quebec French. To me, it only makes sense that we could be getting our books from Montreal and not Paris, as Canada is closer. Ange chose not to teach some of the grammar, the stuff he found peculiar. Some of it is different, but it’s not inaccurate information. This goes to show that second/ third/ fourth languages can be formed by perspective and the cultures you are exposed to. People who understand or learned one dialect/ accent, and speak negatively about another tend to be more difficult for me to speak with. They correct you with something you learned and try to replace it with their version. This is why I do not speak with a lot of American speakers. Nothing irritates me more than an American girl who fucked some French guy and criticizes me for saying “gilet de sauvetage” without emphasizing every fucking syllable. Her version “geelay deh sow-ve-tahge” and my version “geelay deh sowvetage”. Of course it was a flight attendant. I CANNOT! I also had a tutor who insisted I speak like a Parisian. Chui fucking NORTH AMERICAN putain! Then the lady talked shit about my instructor and I lost all trust... Different issue. I stopped seeing the woman for help because of her biased views on how I should say things (of course she was American). I also have a friend in Montreal who I have become quite timid with my French. I need to have a spine and just speak. She just drives me a little crazy because she has a tendency to correct me and not tell me what I should say instead. I have had a tendency to mix doing the dishes, faire la vaisselle, and doing the laundry faire la lessive in French. I made the mistake of trying to say I will do the dishes and she never told me the correct way. She also speaks extremely fast and doesn’t give a moment to process before speaking English. Therefore, I have begun to speak English to her instead of French. It’s discouraging to have someone dog you after they speak to quickly or you have only been in town for less than a week. My French is like riding a bike, I have to get used to it again. One of my best teachers was my mentor Leila. A perfect person to speak with! She wasn’t super impressed with Quebec French, but was willing to accept that it has become a part of my reality. She understood that I had learned from different sources. She spoke to me like I knew what she was saying at all times whether I did or not and eventually it built my confidence and I realized that I did understand 90% of what she said. She pushed me without discomfort. We had a very interesting situation together, which reminded me how different and not standard my French actually is... We worked with an old Congolese woman who depended on both of us for translation and other daily tasks. We worked at a full immersion school for Spanish, French, English, and Chinese. Of course I helped with French as much as possible. Her French was standard, not anglicized, and very conservative. It was so hard, but it helped me improve my French become more professional in the workplace. There is no question... When it comes to work... You must be standardized in your speaking! Accent and different pronunciation are not a big deal; however, the French needs to be clear and polite for all speakers! It may have also helped to research some vocabulary specific to educational development. At staff meetings we constantly spoke about child growth and development... A subject I missed out on dancing the night away in the Quebecois discotheque MDR. Madame Nkombo was a pain or casse-couilles becuase at times she just didn’t want to know what we were talking about... But she forced me to be more specific and clear in my translation than I ever had been. There was no switching to English, there was no idiomatic expression I could use... It had to be a direct translation sometimes explained 3 or 4 different ways before I could get through to her. There was one day I was forced into a medical emergency with her. Her daughter dropped her off at work shaking and almost incomprehensible. We were sure she was having some kind of stroke. Her tongue was flickering and everything. It was a mess! I had to ask Si elle a eu une histoire des problemes avec son couer... and other questions I barely knew how to ask. Thank Jesus Leila was at school this day and could go to the hospital while I covered our class. We were a great team, but sometimes things got scary if Leila or I couldn’t help our friend Nkombo. We worried about emergency situations and bullying/ other behavioural issues in the class. You did need some working knowledge of English in the school and it was awkward at times with parents who did not understand the situation, and struggling to translate correctly. At times I even had to sit in for parent teacher conferences when Leila was not available. We got through it, but it pushed the French side of my brain to work harder than ever. Why I didn’t study for my DELF until now... Je ne sais pas. I should have done it while I was constantly speaking every day of my life. Long story short... my French evolved again. My French experience is diverse as is my tongue. So next time you want to criticize someone for a petty issue of pronunciation or mixing up the order... even though you understood what they said:

1. try to understand where they come from with their French... It might be different than how you learned.

2. Ask them where or how they learned a certain phrase... If they can’t back it up they will probably ask you how you say it.

3. If you learned to say it differently or it is different in your dialect, politely explain that the word/ phrase they learned isn’t so functional in your region.

4. If it is really that bad of a mistake... repeat what they said the correct way. Do not ridicule and embarrass them.

5. LOWER YOUR EXPECTATIONS!!! Do not be a picky perfectionist with someone who is learning. If you are a teacher... You should know better, but if what they are trying to say is not comprehensible at all, ask what they are trying to say and go back to step 2.

6. Learn the difference between accent and mispronouncing. Don’t correct them if they still sound like Peggy Hill, when they used correct semantics and vocabulary.

7. Was that syllable so important that you should correct them? We all know that Francophones skip several parts of pronunciation in certain anyway... Maybe their speaking isn’t academic and they shouldn’t be a lectrice... But are they trying to learn to be that precise??? YOU DON’T KNOW AND YOU PROBABLY DIDN”T CARE TO ASK. When is the last time you said the le in the end of spectacle, incroyable? I rarely say it if I rarely hear it.

8. Know the purpose of their French learning. Where are they trying to go? For what purpose? Are they moving to a region that speaks a little differently? Do they want to talk shit at the bar? Do they want to become a professor? All of the above??? It might be important, particularly if you are trying to teach someone French, to know what their goal is. If they are not learning for an academic/ professional purpose... il/elle ne s'en fou. It’s unfortunate for your academic agenda... But it’s true... THEY DON’T CARE.

9. Ne and Pas... I’m not trying to butcher the language... But Je trouve ça ridicule when someone tells me to use both. Written... maybe. Spoken though... Seriously? What do you think?

10. Stick with French please. Reformulate before you just translate to English... It can be a little degrading and no one learns anything when you just make it easy. It is appreciated and very appropriate in some circumstances (taking a coffee order with a line of 1 000 people behind them)... But in a social setting, just keep speaking French. How will someone ever learn if they are just babied and brought back to English constantly. Also, I get it! We are all trying to learn each others language and see each other as a perfect opportunity to practice... So let them do your language and you do theirs. Voila.

11. Be a humble learner/ teacher. I have gotten to teach some Quebecois words to my African/ French colleagues who speak French natively. In return they teach me some phrases they use instead. Make it an exchange of knowledge!!! Don’t act like you know everything... Language is constantly changing! Even if you have spoken French for 20+ years... There are new technologies and concepts that didn’t exist in French during that time... The ones a non-native speaker could be learning right now!

12. French is French. Do they speak differently in Paris compared to someone in Lafayette, Louisiana? OUAIS BIEN SUR! Sorry no accent marks on my keyboard! Even in English I have to get people to reformulate sometimes because they talk different... It doesn’t mean we can’t communicate and it doesn’t mean they are wrong in the way they speak.

13. Be a little passive aggressive... Recommend a book or a website instead of correcting everything someone says in the moment. Sometimes it’s rude and uncalled for... It makes me want to stop speaking.

So maybe i’m wrong or right in my observation of the language learning process... Maybe I’m too sensitive... What do you find important in teaching someone your native or other fluent languages? Do you think being a grammar nazi is always appropriate? How do/ did you feel as a learner? Do you have similar circumstances or frustrations? I am open to all questions and comments... given they are PRODUCTIVE.

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krumpwrites · 7 years

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MHAM Post #15: Maggie

Today’s piece is actually written by a friend of a friend whom I’ve never even met. I just wanted to stress this fact, because the amount of support and enthusiasm I have received about this project over the past month is so amazing/heartwarming/mind-blowing to me.

The fact that someone I don’t even know on a personal level would be so inspired to open up about her experiences for the sake of others is so crazy and beautiful.

I really enjoyed this piece because Maggie, the writer, doesn’t focus too much on specific diagnoses. She just shares times in her life where things got especially trying, and in turn, negatively impacted her already existing mental health struggles.

I think that’s an extremely important thing to remember. Mental health is a part of all of us, right? Whether good or bad. Some of us have a genetic predisposition to certain diagnoses. Some of us have more negative experiences with regards to our mental health than others. Some of us have labels that we can attach to our struggles. Regardless, we all have good and bad experiences in life, and those experiences impact our mental health. Regardless of predisposition, confirmed diagnoses, etc, our life experiences shape us and make us who we are. Our mental health is directly tied to all of that.

Maggie’s piece does a great job at explaining just how drastically certain events in her life made these kinds of impacts on her.

I am happy to share her story here:

This is difficult for me to start, because my experience with mental illness has been both a marathon and series of short, painful sprints. I didn’t meet my triggers until late in college, and didn’t know how to talk about what I was feeling until after a terrifying and heartbreaking night in the emergency room.

My case is different than some. I never worried about talking about what I was feeling. In fact, I ALWAYS talked about what I was feeling, whether it was to someone else, or within my ever present (sometimes deafening) internal dialogue. From an early age, I was assessing and labeling what I saw, heard, smelled, tasted, and felt, and if something wasn’t right, or I wasn’t where I wanted it to be, I fixed it. Big surprise, I now work in healthcare.

When I was in high school, I experienced hardship as everyone does, and instead of dealing with the things I couldn't understand or label, I started digging deep to bury the hard things. This continued throughout college, until I ran out of space to bury the shitty stuff. The biggest problem with this was that, because of the fact that I didn’t understand and couldn’t put a label on my feelings, I couldn’t find the means to talk about them. I wasn’t talking about what I was going through, but not because I was afraid or because I didn’t want to. I literally couldn’t. I had dealt with death and hardship, and while these are horrendous and devastating things, this was DIFFERENT. I stopped sleeping, I overate, drank an unbelievable amount, and completely stopped working out. I managed to push through the end of college with minimal visible harm, and slid into my gap year. During this year, I took my physical health to the forefront, but did not think much about my mental health. Because physicality is such a huge part of my life, my mental health improved with the improvement of my physical health. However, I was not making a concerted effort to better myself as a whole, and I was doing myself a disservice without even knowing it. I thought my dark period in college was a come and go “rough patch” that I wouldn’t go back to, and DAMN was I absolutely wrong.

I have always been driven, determined, outgoing, outspoken, and didn’t give a flying fuck about what anyone thought about me, until I started dating the person I thought was my forever partner. We met right before I started grad school, and immediately clicked. I had never felt that way about anyone before, and things moved much too quickly. We were living together after only a few months. The fights we had were vicious and sometimes very scary for others. Things spiraled downhill almost as quickly, and I saw a side of myself that I wish to NEVER see again. I let someone else dictate my life. I made all decisions based on this person. I didn’t realize it until almost a year after the fact, but I was living in constant fear that if I said or did the wrong thing, or didn’t consistently put this other person first, that he would leave me and my one true love would be gone forever, and he didn’t let me forget it. One of our infamous fights hit an all-time low, and I tried to kill myself. Waking up to the pure sadness that I saw was the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever experienced, and I would not wish that feeling on anyone in the world. Despite this, I stayed with this person another two years, and it was a constant ebb and flow of amazing days and some of the ugliest days I’ve seen. I let myself get to a point where I told myself I had nowhere to go but inward. I knew what I was feeling, but I was so paralyzed by fear that if I expressed myself, he would leave and I would be left with nothing. Little did I know, I am fucking everything and more (and so are you).

Last summer, his beautiful mother passed away, and to say that it was devastating is an understatement. I didn’t deal with this loss, because I didn’t feel as though it was mine, and I knew I needed to be his rock. After this, I made the move to NYC, and I was biding my time until he was able to move up here as well. In this time, he became distant and meaner than ever. I was constantly anxious and terrified that I was doing the wrong thing. Later I came to find that he had started dating someone else, but it was just too hard for him to tell me (insert eye roll here). I. Was. Devastated. I lost 20 pounds in less than a month. I wasn’t sleeping. My work suffered, and my already broken relationships with my family and friends suffered even more.

Here comes the upswing (you knew it was coming at some point). Instead of letting this person continue to define me, I decided to redefine me. I told myself, “I live in the greatest city in the free world, take advantage and just do you boo boo”. I started just doing things that I wanted to do, whether I had someone to do them with or not. A random happy hour by myself, where I met an amazing woman my age in the same boat (WHAT?! WHY?!). Check. John Legend concert. Check. All you can eat pizza fundraiser for breast cancer. Check. Training for, and soon to run, a half marathon. Check. Signing up for my first marathon. Check. Getting accepted to a doctorate program. Check.

During this time, I worked with some of the greatest and most supportive earth angels on the planet. They took me under their wings, and didn’t comment on my obvious, rapid weight loss, they didn’t try to tell me what to do, they were just there for me even though they hadn’t known me for very long. They let me talk when I wanted to, and, most importantly, they didn’t judge me for feeling. They are now some of my best friends in the world, and if it wasn’t for this shitty situation, I wouldn’t have been able to expand my bad ass squad with these rock stars. Not only did I make new friends, but my best friends (which includes my family) were truly amazing (which is the understatement of the century). They dealt with, and still deal with, my breakdowns at all hours with unbeatable grace and always had a kind word or a laugh to share.

I have also been able to pay it forward. I am not the only one of my friends that has struggled with one of many mental health issues. We have created an open dialogue that may look terrifying to the outside eye, but it’s our safe space. Doing this has also given me an incredible amount of perspective when I am having my bad days. We are not alone. We can do this. We are a tribe that gets shit done in grand fashion.

While I will always struggle with the need to fix and label, it’s getting easier with each day and a lot of hard work. I will never let someone else define who I am. I will continue to be the outspoken (sometimes too blunt), funny, lighthearted person I always was, but my bad days are quite a bit different now. I know the bad feelings will not last forever. I know that I am not only enough, but I go above and beyond. I have a bad ass team behind me, and I don’t have a clue how I got so lucky to have them all in my life. I am a mother fucking queen.

#mental health awareness #mental health #mental heath awareness month #mental health month #mhm #mhm2017 #abuse #boyfriend #college #relationship #suicide #depression #happiness #new york #new york city #nyc

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