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That moment when you understood Persephone's (Goddess Girls) dilemma,,,,,
I want to write...... A story, or one-shot, or whatever it is...... And the trope is
Right person, wrong time.
Imagine the angst...! Like... What direction should i take it? Is time definitive wherein they forever lose each other? Moving on with their lives and cross through rough patches and creating personal achievements and grow alone despite all? Or find new love but and fall in love all over again — do they forget them or do they not?
Or is it simply the wrong time that time around and they're bound to cross paths again? If so, are the feelings still there, or is it one-sided now? Are they just simply friends now? Do they sit down, grab a cup of wark drink and talk about the time that had passed without the other in their life? Or do they just share glances as they pass by each other — do they have a look of unfamiliarity or yearning itch to grab each other's hand but something's holding them back from pursuing so?
AAAAAAAAAAAAAA LIKE. THE POTENTIAL IS ENDLESS!! I LIKE ANGST BUT AM A SUCKER FOR FLUFF/HAPPY ENDING AS WELL... Idk how will i start. (And i think i've written a similar story using that trope with my ocs but JSHWBDBBD)
I watched an edit Taylor's "I Can Do It With A Broken Heart" on youtube and..... The edit wasn't THAT special in terms of transitions or stuff.... But like, the simplicity of the transition and the selection of clips..... CAN THE EDITOR NOT—
CAUSE IT HURTS. DESPITE THE SONG HAVING AN UPBEAT TEMPO/INSTRUMENTAL IT'S GOT A SAD MEANING AND IT'S GIVING TOTGA VIBES. I. CAN. NOT. DHAHJSKQJSBDBS
Aghhhhh, The Sign made me tear up so much.....! AND THE FRICKING SONG TOO. My favorite episode so far 🥺💕
JUST. YES.
I HAVE RETURNED!!!! I HAVE FINALLY FINISHED THIS ART I MADE OF SCAR. I swear, the gtwscar fever was REAL. i think it has calmed down now. But who knows when it'll strike again :3
Other version (slightly duller)
*had to make 2 versions cause im indecisive, also, my blue light filter is on sooooo i see the colors differenrly and i dont want to disappoint myself upon switching devices :DDDD
brutally attacked by my sister's jeans. o_o
The urge to commit fluff-filled life.
Feel free to answer or tag your reasons why!
Personally, I like 3rd POV as it enables the author to explore different kind of characters seamlessly if done right! I just love seeing different perspectives so much as i want to explore the characters deeply. I mean, sure, 1st POV could do that too! But without often/frequently changing POVs (typically thru next chapters). Maybe this is a personal taste, but I don't like the frequent switching of POVs; I'd like it to be consistent of some sort. I dunno, personally it disrupts the immersion for me? Idk qwq Wherein in 3rd POV, there are some transitionary devices/words that allow authors to further srive the point that "we're exploring this one now" seamlessly, and if done right, is satisfying.
Personally, with 3rd POV, it enables the author to further explain the intent of the character — the way they move, and possibly think, and describe the surroundings even more.
I know that 1st POV is limited since we follow the protagonist's narration, which can be interesting in its own aspect! (and i know it can describe their surroundings still and establish some stuff). But I simply just prefer the versatility of 3rd POV.
NNNNNNNNNNNO WAY. WHAT IS HE DOING IN MY MAILBOX—
FRIDAY THE 13TH WHO??? MY BAE SENT ME A LETTER 🥺🥺🥺🥺
BEAUTIFUL IN WHITE
Context: For our Creative Writng class, we were tasked to either write a short story or poem using figurative languages. I’m really proud of how it turned out! Hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did! :]
Genre: psychological thriller
“Hello?” I called out in anything but confusion, yet all that ever answered me was my very own voice – each reverberation was intensified until I felt too numb to attempt to find secondary voices aside from my own. From where I lay, I could only stare directly back at the void, who stared back at me like a father looking at his son in chagrin.
Ah. Was what escaped my lips before I looked at my hands in futile.
Recounting what everything looked like before I was set in a field of vacuum, I remembered standing someplace elsewhere.
It was the crows yelling blasphemies in the distance that woke me up from the trance, and I was greeted by seagulls shaking their heads in disdain. For some reason, I had forgotten that my feet were buried underneath a pound of pulverized coral skeletons. The warmth was intensely pricking my skin, plucking it red and rash; yet I had not noticed it.
Raising my head to drink in my surroundings, all I could see were people animatedly conversing among themselves. I needn’t to hear the intensity of the crowd; the vibrations travelling through my system were enough of an evidence to tell me so.
What blockaded all my senses were the turmoil within my heart and the flurry that brewed within my mind. It had gotten hazy. It was so hazy that..
Clutching my chest before I was to be fully enveloped in the haze, someone silently announced their presence like that of a wave sweeping the bays.
She got all heads turning her way.
A ring and a bouquet of sunflowers clutched in palms, illuminated by the sun plastered on her lips. An everlasting linger where amber and green mix willingly, that I asked myself if this was a dream.
“Darling,” you called out to me as you floated across the pathway like a balloon. I could only glint at the ringing of bells as I slowly watched your figure grow into size.
“You look so pretty.” She tells me as she joined with me. She looked, to a fault, beautiful in white as the sun inhabits every flesh of the dress – hanging a mirror in the living room, and putting up curtains to trap the outside heat; I asked myself if this was a dream.
My hands began to sweat as it was tucked behind.
For some unknown reason, as I took in the sight of her wholly, it did not help the tremor that I withheld. It worsened. What was the reason? Why is it shaking? Maybe I needn’t to delve more into it as I knew that it was linked to her overall presence.
How could you laugh as I stood here in comfortable misery, as all wires in my neurons are short-circuiting – all because of you?
“You look beautiful in white,” I whispered to her, and she smiled yet again.
Oh darling, you look beautiful in anything. Purple skies would suit a majesty like you. The pinks of the fragrant roses could wrap your fragile body perfectly. Citrus colors, too, would ideally capture your quirk. But, oh.. Would red perfectly suit you best as well.
You dripping and stained with red from my sleeves that I am not coy to unroll, and we’d dance the night away as you smiled helplessly with your head thrown aback with laughter that was past its ember.
I smiled to myself as I could not wait to see her buried in sheets, stained with her very own maroon.
“Indeed, you look so beautiful in white.” I repeated myself, ensuring that she heard every meaning of each word was packed with.
She looked at me, smiling with pretty crimsons that rivulet down her powdered chin. Her eyes shone darkly at me though, despite the appearance that she is insisting to the public. Of course, no one in the crowd was foolish as they all fell into a collective gasp of terror.
I remember now; I needn’t a light to know that my hands were stained of her maroons that occurred days ago.
I could only laugh to myself as I recalled that very scene. Her, holding that bouquet of flowers tightly as if it were hers – shamelessly facing her own family with a beam.
I regret nothing.
She was nothing but a poser who ensured her sister was now lying in a field of white chrysanthemums.
DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE DIZZIE—
The Girl In The Mirror
Okurrr, so another work from my creative writing class! The story will appear trash because it is rushed. This was written as our summative, so it was literally timed. I was surprised I was able to fart this out, lol. In this, our tone, diction, and style were tested. I’d say I have a better skill than average (but most definitely not the best-) but this wasn’t one of my best moments LMAO. Anyway, you be the judge of it ig
Over yonder the halls of an abandoned house hung a tale that’s decades old. It had been built with genuinety and passion — now though, it could only present itself in cracks and shards. The Frames no longer scintillate like that of a sun. People who have visited the place themselves described it as merely reflecting the people who have wronged her. Every now and then, as the past manifested itself against the reflective surface, a feminine shriek would emanate from the mirror.
Also additional note, we were told that we need to write it in 5 sentences. Can you imagine the pressure I had?? Especially when I had to rewrite my story LOL (it was a fun a challenge doe, 100/10 would do it again)
If I'm lazy to do my chores, i just get over it! The sooner I do it, the better!
*LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER*
Ehm,,, i'll just romanticize the task..!
*LOUD ERROR BUZZERRRRR*
Uhm....... Fine,,, i just,, ehm,,,, procrastinate.
I LOVEE YOUUUUUUU IT'S RUINING MY LIFEEEEE
ya gurl was itchin to draw but traditionally drawing wont suffice, and replacing it by playing sims4 or continuing a digital artwork wont neither, so she did the most logical decision ever. WENT ON ROBLOX FREE DRAW!!!!! (<- as if she doesnt have ibisPaint so she could easily draw)
(of course i defaulted into gal with wavy hair and ren-faire-esque/cottage-core outfit hAH--)
OKAYOKAY BEFORE GOING TO BED IMMA JUST SHARE THE LIENART CAUSE IN REALLY PROUD OF IT HEHWKFBSBXND
LET ME TAKE CARE OF ENRIQUE JAVIER INSTEAD. POOR BOI'S BEEN THRU IT WITH HIS SH*TTY FATHER.