After The Storm

rebeca. brazil. ocassional writer. "Não é a tempestade que me aflige, é o enjôo do mar.

[lilmiaowkittie]

[luna-azzurra]

Workplace Passive-Aggressive Sentence Starters!!

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "just circling back on this email you definitely read but chose to ignore."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "per my last email. which you clearly didn't read. again."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "i'm sure you had a GREAT reason for missing the third meeting in a row."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "wow, must be nice to take two-hour lunches. some of us have work to do."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "i'll just do it myself. like always. no worries."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "thanks for the feedback nobody asked for. super helpful."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "copying the boss on this email. just for visibility. no particular reason."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "i saved your seat. you know, since you're always late."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "interesting strategy you're taking. bold. probably wrong, but bold."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "oh, did you need the printer? i have seventeen more pages. take your time."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "your presentation was... certainly something. very... yeah."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "just wondering when you'll have that report done. the one due last week."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "i'm not micromanaging. i'm just checking in. for the fifth time today."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "please advise on how you'd like to proceed. since my three suggestions weren't good enough."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "noted. with all due respect. as discussed."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "must be nice to leave at 5pm sharp every day. wish we could all do that."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "your input is always... memorable. definitely memorable."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "i'll add that to my list. right below the other fifty things you've given me today."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "great teamwork! by which i mean i did everything while you watched."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "thanks for volunteering me for that. love being voluntold."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "sorry, i was working. did you need something? ...no, i wasn't ignoring you."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "i'll loop in HR. just to keep everyone informed. nothing personal."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "appreciate you sharing that thought in front of everyone. really professional."

⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 "let's take this offline. right now. my office."

[blsly]

HOMECOMING

“If Leon Kennedy has a wife… it’s Ashley Graham.” Resident Evil | Leon S. Kennedy x Ashley Graham | Slow-Burn | 18+

Summary:  Leon S. Kennedy didn’t expect to see Ashley Graham listed under D.S.O. personnel, let alone working a few floors below him in Intelligence Analysis. It was supposed to be simple. Coffee. Catching up. Maybe dinner. But it isn’t. Over the years, through missed chances, unfinished conversations, and choices neither of them fully understands, they keep coming back to each other—building something neither of them knows how to name, let alone hold onto.

⭐ Features:

Post RE6 to RE9 Timeline

Slow-Burn

On-Again/Off-Again Relationship

Hurt/Comfort | Unresolved Feelings

Character-Driven | Time Skips | Canon Compliant

⭐ Read the full story here: [AO3] ⭐ Explore chapters tag: [HERE]

[blsly]

CHAPTER 2 IS UP!

[blsly]

HOMECOMING

“If Leon Kennedy has a wife… it’s Ashley Graham.” Resident Evil | Leon S. Kennedy x Ashley Graham | Slow-Burn | 18+

Summary:  Leon S. Kennedy didn’t expect to see Ashley Graham listed under D.S.O. personnel, let alone working a few floors below him in Intelligence Analysis. It was supposed to be simple. Coffee. Catching up. Maybe dinner. But it isn’t. Over the years, through missed chances, unfinished conversations, and choices neither of them fully understands, they keep coming back to each other—building something neither of them knows how to name, let alone hold onto.

⭐ Features:

Post RE6 to RE9 Timeline

Slow-Burn

On-Again/Off-Again Relationship

Hurt/Comfort | Unresolved Feelings

Character-Driven | Time Skips | Canon Compliant

⭐ Read the full story here: [AO3] ⭐ Explore chapters tag: [HERE]

[magalhaessims]

YOU PROTECT ME. I TAKE CARE OF YOU. 1919 - 1922 - 1925

[euryalex]

[meltingangels]

[ceruleanheaven]

when the ao3 author is funny in the chapter notes and i get lowkey parasocial

[blsly]

DUSK TILL DAWN

“You protect me. I take care of you.” Peaky Blinders | Thomas Shelby x OC Insert | Slow-Burn | 18+

She stayed late again.

It was becoming a habit—or maybe just an excuse. She told herself it was the quiet, the focus. But every time the shop door creaked open, she looked up. Just in case.

And every time, it wasn’t him.

Thomas hadn’t come all day. Long enough for Ada’s outburst to echo in her mind like a warning. Long enough for doubt to start circling. But then—

The door opened.

Thomas stepped in without ceremony, coat collar damp, movements brisk but composed. She looked up as he passed. His eyes met hers for a fleeting moment—sharp, unreadable—and then he disappeared into his office, the door shutting softly behind him.

The men were packing up, voices low, chairs scraping. She should have been gathering her things too. But instead, she found herself sorting the ledgers again—already sealed, already stacked. Her fingers lingered on the paper longer than they needed to. Then, almost without thinking, she gathered the pile into her arms and crossed the room.

She paused at his door and knocked softly.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside, quiet but composed. Thomas was seated behind the desk, cigarette smoldering between his fingers, smoke curling upward like incense in a chapel. He glanced at her—once, briefly—then returned to whatever paper lay before him, the muscles in his jaw shifting only slightly.

She crossed the room and set the ledgers down with care, aligning the edges like it mattered.

“The books,” she said softly. “Organized. Balanced. As promised.”

He didn’t look up. 

Her fingers hovered near the edge of the desk, brushing the wood as if tracing a thought. For a moment, she hesitated—then spoke, her voice light, careful.

“You know, I was expecting—”

She stopped herself. His gaze lifted—pale blue, precise, merciless in its stillness. It silenced her more thoroughly than any shout. She shifted as she changed her mind, spine straightening.

“Your sister came today. Looking for you.”

No reaction. Not even a blink. He reached for the newspaper beside him and snapped it open, the sound sharp as a blade.

“So I heard.”

“She was scared,” Nevenka continued, her voice soft but steeled, her words measured, but probing. “Afraid you and Freddie would kill each other.”

Still, he read—eyes skimming the page, jaw set. She watched the tension in his posture. The deliberate calm of a man who’d trained every nerve in his body not to react.

“Freddie Thorne, isn’t it?” she added, eyes narrowing. “The one the police are searching for. The Communist? He’s the one married to your sister.”

Thomas exhaled slowly through his nose. Not annoyed, but not engaged either.

“That’s family business, Nevenka.”

His voice was flat, but her name on his tongue carried something else—a warning.

She straightened, undeterred.

“Are you sympathetic to their cause?” she asked, her accent thickening slightly—sympathetic landing harder, sharper, almost bitten off. 

At that, he finally looked up. Cool amusement ghosted across his features.

“I have no sympathies of any description,” he said, voice low, dry. “And you’ve got a habit of listening at doors.”

She smiled—small, but unrepentant.

“Is that why you want me at Cheltenham?” Her tone shifted—dry, wry, edged with something daring. “To listen at more doors?”

His mouth twitched. A soundless chuckle, barely more than breath.

“I don’t need a woman to be my eyes and ears,” he turned back to the newspaper, the slow crinkle of the page slicing the silence like a dare. “Especially one I don’t trust.”

She didn’t blink. “Then why bring me?”

He said nothing more. Her fingers flexed against her skirt, jaw tightening, then loosening. She exhaled not quite a sigh, brittle with frustration. He wasn’t going to tell her. Not yet.

“You should buy a nice dress,” he said, still thumbing through the newspaper.

She paused. Eyes narrowed faintly, chin lifting by degrees in a quiet act of defiance.

“I want ten pounds.”

That earned her a glance. A long one. His eyes lifted from the page with the unhurried precision of a man deciding whether to be amused. A corner of his mouth twitched, but didn’t quite commit to a smile.

“Ten?” he echoed, flat.

She tilted her head, the barest trace of a smile tugging at her mouth.

“You said to dress nicely. I can be… quite impressive, if I want to.”

His gaze lingered. Somewhere between disbelief and amusement, something flickered behind his eyes—interest, maybe. Or admiration disguised as irritation. He leaned back, reaching into his coat with exaggerated slowness.

“You’d better be arriving dressed like bloody royalty,” he muttered, watching her with that half-scowl that masked his amusement.

He pulled out his wallet, thumbed through the notes, and laid them out—one, two, three—until ten crisp pounds sat on the desk like a wager.

She stepped forward, unbothered by the weight of his stare. Slid the money off the desk with elegant fingers, folding it once and tucking it into her sleeve. She turned to go.

“Wear something red,” he called after her.

She paused at the door, half-turned, a gleam in her eye.

“I don’t wear red.”

He huffed a quiet laugh.

“Political sentimentalism?”

She offered a faint smile.

“Something like that.”

Then she was gone, and for a moment, all that remained was the whisper of her steps and the curl of smoke between them.

Like this chapter? Read the full story 👉 [HERE]

[blsly]

DUSK TILL DAWN

“You protect me. I take care of you.” Peaky Blinders | Thomas Shelby x OC Insert | Slow-Burn | 18+

Summary: Birmingham, 1919. A woman fleeing the ashes of the Russian Revolution takes a job as bookkeeper at the Shelbys’ betting shop under a false name. Her accent doesn’t match her papers. Her past is a secret she guards fiercely. But she keeps her head down, and the ledgers stay flawless. Until Thomas Shelby starts asking questions. He doesn’t trust her. She doesn’t flinch when he looks her in the eye. What begins as suspicion slowly turns into something else—something fragile, and dangerous, forged in silence, loyalty, and the desperate need for protection. Something neither of them can afford to lose.

⭐ Features:

Post-WWI Trauma

Russian Revolution

Slow-Burn

No Grace Burgess | During Canon

Found Family | Emotional Tension | Hurt/Comfort

Power Dynamics | Mutual Protection | Character-Driven

⭐ Read the full story here: [AO3] ⭐ Explore chapters tag: [HERE]

[jodiesjamiez]

[dogzcats]

pride & prejudice: from book to movie

[ixtaek]

[howireacted-blog]

[luna-azzurra]

Pacing Writing tip

Here’s the thing about pacing: it’s the heartbeat of your story. Too slow, and the reader flatlines. Too fast, and they can’t catch their breath. You need to know when to hold back and when to push forward. Slow down for the emotional beats, the quiet moments of character development. But when the tension builds, you hit the gas and don’t let up until the reader’s hanging on every word. Pacing isn’t about keeping a steady speed, it’s about the rhythm of highs and lows that keeps your reader glued to the page.

[nipuni]

The other shore

this is the first original work I’ve made in decades 😭 it is from a little story of mine that I hope to draw more about in the future

A speedpaint video of this will be available at my Patreon on september 1st!

[observando]