Friedrich Quecksilber und seine Kapelle "KĂśnigin" spielen am 16. Mai 1977 in der Philipshalle DĂźsseldorf ein Konzert. HĂśhepunkt ist die AuffĂźhrung ihrer berĂźhmten BĂśhmischen Rhapsodie.
Wärt ihr zu diesem Konzert gegangen?
Ja
Nein
seen from Germany

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from Colombia
seen from Netherlands

seen from Spain

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Ireland

seen from Italy
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Netherlands

seen from Canada
seen from Yemen
seen from Sweden
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
Friedrich Quecksilber und seine Kapelle "KĂśnigin" spielen am 16. Mai 1977 in der Philipshalle DĂźsseldorf ein Konzert. HĂśhepunkt ist die AuffĂźhrung ihrer berĂźhmten BĂśhmischen Rhapsodie.
Wärt ihr zu diesem Konzert gegangen?
Ja
Nein

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
How to Create the Perfect Story Arc
Every year, weâre lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. Today, our sponsor Fictionary has put together a step-by-step guide for creating the perfect story arc:
One of the best ways to improve your novel is to look at the way that successful authors have crafted their story arcs. You can use this information to revise your NaNoWriMo novel and tell a story your readers love.Â
Spoiler alert! Weâre about to delve into Stephenie Meyerâs blockbuster novel Twilight while paying attention to the plot points that keep the story moving. You may be familiar with the simplest form of a story arc:
1. The Inciting Incident
The inciting incident is the moment the protagonist's world changes in a dramatic way. Readers expect something to trigger the protagonist to act. If the inciting incident doesn't occur in the first 15% of your novel, you need a strong reason for delaying it.Â
Word for the day: Decaffitated
When the caffeine runs out and your head falls off. (Or just feels like it has.)
p or(to) f(in)o (Portofino) ..#ridgeislet (perch/Ď) #whitewater (coast surf/wave side) #mountaincoast (side/slope) #ridgesand (moment/Ď) #whitewater (cove cave/notch top) #coast (Ď/6) [across-fan x-across x side]. [90*/0* Ď Ď 270*]. [Ď x Ď]. Plus Breezeway. (+ Ď)
fiction :D (fictionale)
Picking Stars from the Sky
A Short Story by Moses Ojera
Inspired by A Hundred Times Over by Alliyah Del Rosario (pyrosphos on Archive of Our Own)
Word of the Piece: threshold
threshold -Â a point of entry or beginning.
Example: The abandoned golf course was a threshold of their memories for safekeeping.
Genre: Tragedy, Romance
I would pick you again
even if things go wrong
the second time around.
Caleb stood before a tombstone which had become very familiar to him. It was covered with cobwebs and dust indicating that it had been such a long time since someone last visited the place. The words embossed on its façade with a picture of someone dear to him placed next to it never failed to make his heart feel heavy.
It was all sunny and bright, but his feelings were the complete opposite. Today would have been their 5th anniversary, and all he could do was stare at the picture of his lover whose life ended too early. He was once again reminded of the reason why she was there, all cold and lifeless. He was once again reminded of how their lives could have possibly gone if it werenât for that one circumstance... how it disrupted their plans!
He laid the bouquet of flowers next to the tombstone. It was a vibrant mix of red and yellow which he frankly did not get a good feeling about. She liked roses and sunflowers, and he will continue to leave bunches on her gravestone until plastics of its kind start to rot. But it always reminded him of an event so traumatic that it haunted him in his sleep every night.
He woke up right before the shrill sonance of his alarm clock could even break the silence of his bedroom. He was excited and nervous, to say the least. It was Nielleâs birthday. Not only that, he is proposing to her today. He will be professing his unconditional love to her. The one he would always risk his life for.
âLooks like someoneâs overjoyed,â his roommate, Steele, told him out of nowhere, with his eyes still laced with sleep.
âYou know very well the reason why,â Caleb stated with a smirk on his face. He just knew that fate was on his side today. At least, thatâs what he thought.
âShouldnât you be getting ready now, though? You wouldnât want to keep her waiting, would you?â Steele said as he faced his back to Caleb and making a burrito of himself with his thick comforter, ready to get back to his slumber.
âYeah, yeah, I will. But Steele⌠Iâm nervous. What if I get the answer I donât want to hear?â said Caleb.
âThen Iâm kicking you out of the dorm. Losers canât live in this predicament,â Steele answered jokingly, with Caleb throwing his pillow at the former. He faced Caleb once again and said, âBut seriously though, I wish you the best of luck. I believe you wonât be needing it, rest assured youâll be getting that sweet âyesâ, but itâs better to be sure, right?â he reassured Caleb. He thought about all the possibilities. Anything could happen in just a minute, let alone a day, but itâs imperative to maintain an optimistic view.
Caleb didnât say anything after that. He knew that Caleb knew what he was thinking. It was a telepathic thing between the two best friends.
On his way to the bathroom, what he saw sitting on his bedside table was the small black box which contained the ring. The ring with the initials âN.C.â carved on its inner rim, and a star embedded on its surface. As much as he would like to stare at it for hours, he would rather see it upon Nielleâs finger tonight.
He felt his cellular phone vibrate against his thigh. He pulled it out to see what was flashed on the screen â it was a text message from his lawyer, saying that they had just won the case. It was a case filed against Nielleâs killer. As soon as he read the last word of the text message, his face broke out with a look of sheer joy. We won the case. He repeatedly tells himself.
He was completely amazed. His mood was uplifted ten-fold. He would celebrate their victory with a few of his closest friends, but right now, all he wanted to share that success with is the person buried beneath whom he loved dearly. It was for her, and he couldnât have done it for anyone else.
There Caleb was, sat in a quaint coffee shop, waiting for his lover to arrive. He brought a bouquet of roses and sunflowers with him. He is doing it now. He planned to make the place a lot more memorable than it should be. It was his favorite; he often told Steele that it was better than Buckstars. It was also where he and Nielle first met.
He was a regular customer, so he remembered the old faces and figured out the new ones. It didnât take long for him to see the newly recruited part-time barista for the first time, and he swore that it was a magical moment when Nielle â based on the name tag â asked him, âTop of the morning to you, Sir! What would you like?â
He was too dazed to answer. It was as if his drool was close to the brink of spilling out of his mouth. He wanted to answer âYou,â but that would be unethical. He told the barista his favorite drink, their signature Latte Macchiato.
âAnd whatâs the name of this lovely gentleman right here?â Nielle asked playfully.
Caleb swore the room had gone warm. He was flustered, his hands were shaking, and he was pretty sure his cheeks were tainted pink. He tried his best to spit out a âC-C-Caleb,â while stuttering to do so.
He remembered it all too well. It was a good memory. Looking back, they have gone through so much. Look where they are now.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his ringtone â he only used it for Nielleâs number so he knew when she called. He suddenly got nervous, hoping nothing would actually get in his way this time.
âHello?â Caleb said in a calm manner.
âHi, babe! I just got off work and Iâm basically stuck here. All the taxi drivers Iâve talked to declined. Could you please fetch me? Iâm at the gate of the northwest side,â Nielle said wistfully.
âAlright babe, Iâll be there in a dime,â Caleb said, on his way to his car, placing the bouquet of flowers on the passengerâs seat.
âOkay, Iâll wait for you.â Caleb was about to put his phone down when he heard Nielle speak once more, âOh, and Caleb?â
âYeah?â
âI love you. You are my brightest star,â
Along with the sweet roar of the car engine came the rushing feeling in his chest. He had always felt it every time he heard her say those words. She loves me, he thought to himself. At first, he hesitated to believe in this sick, destructive emotion often denoted as love, but Nielle had him change his mind, and he wouldnât have it any other way.
He arrived at the place where Nielle told him to go. He immediately spotted her. She was standing with her back leaning against the cement wall. He sprinted towards her and hugged her tightly.
âMissed me too much?â Nielle said.
âQuit it,â Caleb said, his breath tickling her neck. He soon withdraws from the embrace and said âLetâs go?â, with Nielle nodding and following suit, acknowledging the presence of the bouquet of roses and sunflowers on her seat, which earned Caleb a kiss on his cheek.
They talked about Nielleâs work on their way to the coffee shop. Caleb didnât really have to know about her bossâ scandal being spread around to the workers in the company, or about the clogged toilet in the bathroom near her floor. Nonetheless, he liked hearing her talk. Even if the absence of substance stained her words, he always wanted to hear her voice which was dripping with milk and honey.
They arrived near the coffee shop, walking towards the place to finally fulfill the plans he laid out which Nielle is naive about.
âSo, what do you have for me today?â Nielle asked, teasing Calebâs sides.
âYouâll know when we get there,â Caleb said, with his arm draping over his loverâs shoulder. Somehow, he felt the black box sitting in his pocket get heavier. He didnât remember it having much weight. But it reminded him of his primary agenda for the night.
It was quite a peaceful night. Things were going as plannedâŚ
but it all happened so fast.
An earsplitting scream shattered the silence lingering the streets. Caleb and Nielle turned their heads to where the sound came from. And they saw it happen.
A man dressed in all black with a mask on was struggling to snatch the womanâs handbag which she had a strong grip on. Soon, the man placed an arm over her neck, choking her to get the prize.
âNielle, letâs g-,â Caleb said without realizing that she was not beside him anymore. Instead, he found her running towards the conflict, and he knew she was on his way to help the woman.
Calebâs heart dropped. He wanted to scream, Nielleâs life was at stake, but all he managed to let out was a faint âNo.â
He was unable to do anything. His breath was caught up in his lungs. He was only able to watch the scene before him. All he could do was stand and have his heart being torn apart, seeing the risk his lover was taking.
There were bystanders who decided to be witnesses of the situation, uttering comments about how brave the girl was, or how pitiful that it had to go this way. But all Caleb could ever think of was how much he wanted to just grab Nielle and get away from here. He felt anger rush through the course of his veins, but the way he managed not to intervene, he realizedâŚ
that he was too late.
Along with a loud gunshot were the screams of the people fleeing from the scene. He saw the culprits escape using the van parked near his car. He saw the woman who nearly got her bag snatched dial the emergency number with trembling hands.
With the crowd giving him a clear look of how it went, what he saw shattered him the most.
Sprawled out upon the cold pavement was Nielle. Her hair was disheveled, her clothes were nearly a mess, the bouquet of flowers long forgotten. A pool of crimson was just behind the gush of her head.
He wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything that showed his despair. Things did not go as planned. It was unfair!
He despised everyone. He despised everyone who witnessed the scene for not doing anything that could have prevented it from happening. He despised the universe for letting Nielle gamble her life for another being.
But most of all, he despised himself.
For just standing there.
For not being able to move an inch.
For being one with the crowd.
For not preventing it from happening.
For not saving Nielle when he had the chance.
Soon, the ambulance came rushing towards them, the paramedics lifting Nielleâs unconscious body. He felt his heart sink. It was the love of his life.
He jumped in the ambulance and sat beside his lover. He took hold of her hand and felt everything and nothing all at once.
He feared the time he wonât be able to grab her hand with his anymore.
The cemetery suddenly started to feel constricted. He wanted to leave already. His thoughts and feelings had dispersed and they were all over the place. He would pick it up to bottle it all up once again, just like what he always did.
Their relationship wasnât perfect, he admitted. They both had their fair share of mishaps, but it didnât stop them from finding their way back to each other. But now, he wished that he could go to that direction again, towards Nielle; he felt safe with her. She was his home.
The doctor told Caleb and Nielleâs parents that she was in a critical condition. She was in a state of coma. The bullet grazed the side of her head, and there was a very small chance that she will survive once he undergoes an operation.
He wasnât a believer of many things. But this is an exception â he believed in them. He believed in Nielle. He believed that Nielle would wake up. He believed that things could go back to how they once were.
He clasped Nielleâs hand with two of his, silently asking all the gods that exist to give him the strength and guidance he needed to overcome this challenge.
He pulled out the black box, getting the precious ring he had been dying to give to the person lying in front of him. He then slipped it through Nielleâs finger.
âSo when you wake up, you will still remember me somehow. Even by heart,â Caleb said as he shed more tears that night. He hoped this pain will all end soon.
On his way home, he passed by an abandoned golf course. Their abandoned golf course. The area was still the same as how it looked like the last time they both went there. It was a witness of their limerence, a threshold of their memories for safekeeping. It was all theirs to remember.
They were sprawled out on the vast grounds of an abandoned golf course to which they named as their happy place. They got tired from all the worldâs problems, so they decided to meet up and do something spontaneous, and here they were.
It was nighttime. The sky was completely filled with every star there was, splashing cold colors all throughout the expanse of their line of sight.
âHey, thatâs Orion!â Nielle shrieked as she stared at what seemed like a constellation.
Caleb almost forgot that she was an Astronomy major. She really loved space, and all the possibilities there might be. He was only there to watch her do the things she loved.
âWhere?â Caleb asked as he was struggling to find the constellation.
âLook at my finger. Iâm gonna trace it!â Nielle said as she traced the pattern of the Orion.
âWell, I see it now. It looks like an outline of Mike Wazowski successfully scaring a sleeping kid,â Caleb said jokingly.
Nielle let out a hearty chuckle, the one that is real and genuine. One that signifies happiness. One that shows fondness.
Nielle looked at Caleb who laid beside her, and saw that she was with the brightest star she could ever be with.
âYou know⌠Iâm genuinely curious as to why you picked Astronomy, out of all the things you love doing,â said Caleb while looking at her.
âI just⌠love space and stars and planets and all of those things. It makes me believe there is more to life than just what we are able to see or touch,â Nielle said as she faced upwards to look at the stars, âAnd, since I love poetry too, I love using the stars and the sky as metaphors. It just makes me feel things,â Nielle said fondly.
âSo, I take it that you have already written some lines, hm? Who are they dedicated to?â Caleb asked, with a look of concern and interest.
âYou.â Nielle said with a smile on her face.
âReally? Show me some lines,â said Caleb.
Nielle hesitated at first, but gave in later on due to Calebâs pleas. âI have loved the stars too fondly to be afraid of the night,â she said with a pleased tone.
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Caleb asked. He wasnât very good at reading between the lines.
âThe stars signify the ones I love. The night signifies life. My loved ones help me survive each day. They make each day worth living for. And you... you are one of them. You are my brightest star,â Nielle said finally.
It was silent for a moment. They both knew Caleb was digesting what had just been said, but he managed to respond perfectly.
âI love you too,â Caleb said, with his cheeks tinted pink.
As the night went on, a few kisses were shared. They both hoped this would go on forever, even if the night was still young.
It was starting to get dark, but he decided to do what they usually did in the abandoned golf course. He laid down on the exact same spot he was sprawled out on that day. He took a good look of the sky â his line of sight was filled with stars, and to describe it as fascinating was an understatement.
Coincidentally, the universe decided to go along with him since he saw yet again the Orion, the Mike Wazowski constellation. It was as if he was reliving the moment when Nielle was still here. It was as if fate decided to give him one last chance to have things flow according to his plans.
I have loved the stars too fondly to be afraid of the night, he thought to himself. He remembered it with how she said those words.
And in reply, he stated,
âI love you, too.â
I would pick all the stars from the sky
if it means getting to hold you
one last time.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Welcome to the Fictionary
Greetings, friends, and welcome to the Fictionary, an English language resource for fanfiction writers!
Weâre setting out to help make fic writers stronger by exploring grammar, punctuation, syntax, and all things English-language. The blog is run by two fanfiction authors, Kitsey and Gef, who want to support other authors in our community with grammar and word use tips, punctuation guides, and even beta reading services. Want to really polish up your fanfic? Let us help you out!
Alongside our guides and weekly tips, we invite you to ask us questions about the fundamental conventions of writing in English. Weâre not making this all up as we go; we do research on every topic we cover. Weâre open to discussions and lively conversations about the fun and quirky rules of this language!
Follow the Fictionary for:
Tips on writing and punctuating those pesky dialogues
Clarifications of commonly misused English words and phrases
A community of other fanfic authors who are passionate about writing
Beta reading, on request
Research on historical and (sometimes) fan topics
Commas, semicolons, colons, and em dashes (hell yeah!)
I just waited for this ask to open so I can share. I wish people would actually comment on my fic about the things they didn't like, or how my fic could still improve. So that next time I can improve, and my fic won't stay in the dark. Commenters with criticisms really help, more than commenters with only positive comments do.
I understand your frustration, anon! Itâs true that constructive criticism is very helpful for writers. However, I just wanted to add that all comments (sans hateful ones) are appreciated! To all of the wonderful readers, please donât feel that your comment has to be enlightening to be meaningful.Â
As always, the Fanboard is open for anyone who wants to further discuss this topic!
-Admin Y
Learn How To Self-Edit #AuthorToolboxBlogHop Purpose Of A Scene
Learn How To Self-Edit #AuthorToolboxBlogHop Purpose Of AÂ Scene
Thank you, Raimey Gallant for organizing the #AuthorToolboxBlogHop. Today is the 5th post of this new series!
This is a monthly blog hop on the theme of resources/learning for authors: posts related to the craft of writing, editing, querying, marketing, publishing, blogging tips for authors, reviews of author-related products, anything that an author would find helpful.
To continue hoppingâŚ
View On WordPress