#(while getting writers block for an essay I’ve got to finish)

[soni-dragon]

just felt the urge to draw some stars

[ID: A digital painting of a starry sky, with blue, pink, and orange clouds stretching diagonally across the canvas. A yellow star in the center shines with lines coming out of it towards the edges of the painting. /End ID.]

[gaybananabread]

☾༺Just a Bit Longer༻☽

~So I’ve been brainrotting over RW&RB for a solid month now. The goblins need a walk, and I cannot productivity until they get one. I love these two’s dynamic; they’re just so silly. Not my best work, but writer’s block be damned; I needed to post something this week. This is completely self-indulgent, but if it’s your thing, I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Alex

Ler: Henry

Summary: Alex is overworking himself, going late into the night and working hours without breaks. Sick of his lover’s dreadful work-life management, Henry takes it upon himself to get Alex to sleep.

Warnings: mild Red, White & Royal Blue spoilers! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Life for Alex Claremont-Diaz was the best it had ever been. Henry came over almost daily from his Brownstone, and he finally felt like he had a definite idea of where his life was headed. The only downside: he was still in school.

The NYU Law course was a bit more rigorous than he’d expected, but it was definitely what he wanted. Sure, that meant long, painful hours of reviewing for extremely difficult exams, discovering that tort is a real word, and trying to figure out a system for coursework that didn’t make his brain want to explode.

His sleep schedule was already shit, so he didn’t think any of it would be a problem. If he just pulled a few all-nighters and pumped out some late-night essays, he’d be fine. What he didn’t think about, however, was how Henry would take it.

Alex was working late on another essay, running off of coffee and pure determination. He hadn’t meant to put it off, but with the three exams he’d had that week, his mind was a scattered mess.

Henry had put up with it for most of the night, but as two AM rolled around, his understanding had run dry, replaced by concern.

Knocking the “shave and a haircut” pattern on his lover’s door, Henry entered the room. He was immediately greeted with the strong smell of coffee and desperation.

There sat his boyfriend, hunched over a computer with a half-eaten ham sandwich (he couldn’t handle turkey anymore) by his side. The blonde couldn’t help the sad sigh that escaped him.

Alex looked up, his glasses nearly all the way down on his nose. It was unfairly cute, though Henry shoved that feeling down for the moment.

“Uh…hey, Hen. Not done yet; gimme, like, another half-hour.” Alex’s gaze was back on his computer in seconds.

Henry rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache brew. For once, why couldn’t Alex just use common sense?

“Alex, darling. It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

Alex scoffed, not stopping for even a second. “Says you. You stay up later than I do most of the time.” While that wasn’t untrue, Henry’s problems were because of insomnia. Alex was just a stubborn asshole.

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest here. You look terrible, you seem exhausted, and the bags under your eyes could fit the entirety of the Royal Wardrobe. Go. To. Sleep.”

Henry laid things out bluntly, crossing his arms. It was meant to leave little room for negotiation, but defying Henry’s expectations was Alex’s special talent.

“This is due at eight AM…uh, today. I’ve only got six hours to finish this thing, but I’m almost done. I promise, just a bit longer.” This would have been more comforting if Alex hadn’t already said that three times.

“Alex, please. If you sleep now, I’ll wake you up at six, and we’ll work on it together. It hurts to see you like this, dear.” He used pet names, trying to sway Alex to listen. It was a last-ditch effort; if he still refused, Henry didn’t have much of a plan left. Sure enough, he did.

“It’s fine, Henry. I’m all good, just a little spacy. I promise, the moment I’m done, I’ll eat your face. Okay, baby?” Alex flipped the other man’s strategy back on him, hoping to fully bury the concern. He was fine: end of story.

For Henry, though, the tale was just beginning. He racked his brain, searching for anything to help him get Alex to cooperate. He could only remember one time anyone was successful.

Alex had invited him to the White House for June’s birthday party. As the night dragged on, everyone but Alex was drunk and exhausted. To tire him out, June had employed some rather…unconventional methods.

Methods that would be extremely useful to him at that moment.

Casually approaching his boyfriend, Henry put a hand on the laptop. Then, after making sure the work was saved, he closed it. He pointedly ignored Alex’s scoff and protests, grabbing his chin and pulling him in for a kiss. Alex still squirmed, though a smile was breaking out on his face.

That was all Henry needed to continue. He gripped Alex under his thighs, lifting the man up and plopping him down on his nearby bed.

A surprised sound left him, his cheeks gaining a nearly imperceptible red hue. He was expecting some push-back from Henry, but nothing this active.

“Just couldn’t wait for me, could you~?” Alex weteased, starting to sit up on the bed. Henry was quick to stop that, grabbing Alex’s arms and pinning them above his head.

Before his lover could make another joke, Henry tapped a few fingers on his side. That shut him up, if only for a second.

“Henry, I swear to fucking god, if you try anything-” He was cut off when Henry squeezed his side, resulting in an indignant squeak.

“Sorry, dear, but I’m afraid I already have~” With that, Henry clawed his fingers into Alex’s stomach, straddling him.

The tired man tried to bite his lip, but the coffee wasn’t quite enough to give him that energy. A few giggles slipped out, quickly followed by tiny curses.

“What’s the matter, Alex? Something bothering you?” Henry chuckled, leaning down further to try and hold him still.

Kicking and squirming, Alex tried anything to get away from the evil fingers. He was tired, though; his brain was moving at half-speed and felt like it was running through soup.

“Gehehet ohoff me, youhuhu prihick!” Henry has decided to move up to his ribs, scritching and scratching between each bone.

Even on a good day, it’d be hard for Alex to get out from under him. With no sleep, coffee fumes and pure spite, he had no chance.

“Why on Earth would I do that? I’m quite comfortable here. Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself, if that blush is any indication,” Henry taunted, jutting his chin out. He didn’t really need to, but it was a sure-fire way to rile Alex.

“Fuhuhuck off! Hehenry, I swehehear- quihit!” Alex tried to bury his face in his shoulder, though he only drew attention to a new target. Henry leaned down, blowing a raspberry on his boyfriend’s neck. Alex would rather die than repeat the squeal that left him.

“Wow, Alex. Perhaps the Barbara Streisand accusation wasn't so far off,” he teased, his voice about as smug than Alex had ever heard it.

The typically witty man was in giggly shambles, trying his best not to sound like a child. He wasn’t very successful.

“SHUHUhut uhup, youhu douche!!” Laughing like a toddler, Alex was still pumping out insults. Henry was about to put a stop to that. Going for the kill, he hooked his thumbs into Alex's hip divots, kneading and squeezing the area.

That seemed to work quite well.

“GAH- HEHENRY! You- YAHAHA! FAHAHACK!” The law student lost his shit, practically cackling under his boyfriend.

Alex arched his back off the bed, only bucking into the ticklish feeling. There was no room in his mind for witt; the best he could do was “fuck fuck fuck it tickles oh my god-”

Hearts practically formed in Henry’s eyes at the adorably hysteric reaction. Still, as cute as it was, he had a mission.

“This all ends the moment you agree to rest. Or…would you like me to continue? I bet I could just tickle you senseless all night. You’d surely be exhausted then, wouldn’t you?”

Alex couldn’t even get a word out, shaking his head as he laughed. His curls went wild, getting in his eyes and puffing up. Henry wanted to brush it from his eyes, but he had to keep his priorities in order. There would be time for fawning over him later.

“HEHENRY! PLEHE- snrk” It took a solid minute, but Alex’s resolve was weakening. He was already tired beforehand, and laughing his ass off wasn’t helping. The squirming had died down almost completely, snorts slipping into the lax cackles.

While it wasn’t an agreement, the Prince could tell that his lover would be out in seconds. Henry stopped, switching to gentle traces down his sides. The first son tried to calm down, a steady stream of giggles pouring from his lips.

“H-hoholy shihihit… Thahat was evil.” He tried taking some deep breaths, rubbing his cheeks. Alex hadn’t laughed that hard in a while. He was close to just passing out right there, pure exhaustion hitting him like a freight train.

“Possibly. You deserved it, though.” Henry leaned down, gently kissing his curved lips. This sight was one of his new favorites: Alex, his toned skin flushed, practically a puddle of giggles beneath him.

Alex flipped him the bird before melting into the kiss. He weakly pulled his boyfriend down, snuggling against him. He’d all but forgotten about his essay, eyes closed the moment he laid still; the poor guy was wiped. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but all his energy was gone.

Carefully grabbing his phone, Henry set an alarm for six AM.

They’d finish that research paper; he was certain of that. With a bit of sleep, Alex would be a writing machine. True, the slightly rushed grammar would be atrocious, but that’s what Henry was there for. Pulling the sheets up over them both, Henry breathed a happy sigh.

“Good night, love.”

[killerandhealerqueen]

1, 3 and 39 of weird writers questions!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

If I’m writing my actual stories, I write in Helvetica, font size 11, 2.0 space.  If I’m writing my headcanons or outlines, I write in Times New Roman, font size 12, 1.0 space.  I’ve always just sort of done it this way...headcanons and outlines just look better in Times New Roman.  My stories need to be in a different font because then I don’t think of them as essays or research papers.  It’s good to have a bit of differentiating between the two

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

I don’t really...have a writing ritual, other than listening to music when I write.  If I get a certain mood from a certain song while writing, then that song is on repeat until the story is finished or until the mood passes and I can switch to a different song.  Also, I will not go to bed if I know I’m super close to finishing a fic...which tends to sometimes having me stay up till like 3-4 am.  Which is not good, but...*shrugs*.  Because I’m in grad school and my classes are online, I’m allowed to sleep in late.  I know I’m gonna have to nip this habit once I get an actual job but for now...this is what we’ve got

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

Honestly, I go back and reread comments that I’ve gotten on my fics or I’ll go reread my fics (not like I don’t do that anyways) to try and find motivation.  Honestly, I’ve never really felt like giving up on writing, but whenever I hit rough patches of thinking that my writing isn’t good or I’ve got no motivation, I’ll go reread @nineninepetals comments/reviews that she’s sent me because it allows me to 1) see what my readers see and 2) know how my readers feel while reading my fics.  And it’s really nice read and it’s a nice pickme up.  But sometimes, if I’ve just got no writing motivation in me, I don’t touch my writing.  At all.  I’ll go read fanfiction or work on my embroidery projects or watch youtube.  Sometimes if you write too much you start reaching burnout and writer’s block and that can be detrimental to your health and to your joy of creating.  So, taking breaks sometimes are good.  Doesn’t matter how long the break is.  Could be days, weeks, months, or even years.  If you need to take the break, take the break.  Your readers will patiently wait for you

weird questions for writers (because writers are weird) | send me weird writer questions

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[sometimesrosy]

what now? idk

TBH, I don’t really know what to do with this blog now that The 100 is over. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it’s over, but I feel like just posting kitties and cool photo posts isn’t a good use of this spot. 

I really liked answering asks about the show and other stuff, and I kind of miss that, but not having the community makes it harder... even though I was unhappy with fandom for the last couple of years. 

What should I put on this blog? What would you guys like to see, if there’s still anyone out there? 

Let me tell you a bit of what I’m doing outside of tumblr or fandom or scifi.

Professionally, I’m ghostwriting contemporary romances. I’ve written about about 18 so far, in a couple of years. It’s hard work, it doesn’t pay real well. I can’t really suggest to other people, but it just manages to keep my head above water and I get to stay home and take care of myself and homeschool and write and be creative.

Reading wise, I’m leaning hard into the historical romances, and have been ever since I started ghostwriting. IDK why. I read one and write the other.

Writing wise, I am not getting very far on my science fiction books that I’m writing, nor am I getting far on querying for an agent for my finished novels. I’ve got Moonshine, which is based on a bellarke fic I wrote quite a few years ago, and then they’re Girl Of Freaks, which is a contemporary fantasy inspired by how annoyed twilight made me. Like. That’s not what vampires would be. Ugh. Whatever. That’s two finished novels I have that are ready for publication and me, having problems with querying and publication and staying on task. (sometimes I wonder if I too am ADHD after researching for my son’s ADHD. I have been doing a little poetry, too, although that kind of slowed down in the pandemic. It seems to be picking up now that we have a decent not terrifying president. I think I was too anxious to get my thoughts together to write poetry, which was disappointing because I was really getting into poetry.

I am ALSO homeschooling my two teens. One of whom is on the autism spectrum and has ADHD, etc, and one of whom wants to raise chickens. They’re 14 and 15.  He’s older. We’re reading greek mythology write now and writing essays. He writes about philosophy and psychology, and she writes persuasive essays about how we should have Disney+ and have chickens. 

That goes along with the gardening we’re doing. It’s a school project, but we’re also gardening for fun and health. so. We’re trying blueberries and green beans and spinach and herbs and tomatoes and ginger. 

Then I’m getting back into art, too. I took on a challenge on instagram to do 100 days of creativity. I don’t really know WHAT I’m going to do, but it’s essentially 100 days of art journaling as I rediscover what the hell I have to say as an artist. I’ve been doing so much writing that is where my energy goes. 

I am also working on an e-course about Writer’s Block. It’s specifically for writers, because I’ll be showing some writing hints, but a lot of it goes for general creativity. My main thesis is that writer’s block shouldn’t terrify us, but really if we pay attention and listen to what’s stopping us, we can actually learn about our own writing process and become better and happier writers. It’s turned out to be MUCH larger than I thought, a whole book, I suppose, rather than one e course, so I’ve broken it down into four courses, and I’m doing the first one on Overwhelm, which is self explanatory. The other three are; Fear (the internal demons that stop you,) The Narrative Itself (because your subconscious knows there’s a problem with the story itself,) and Not A Block, But a Fallow Period (in which you listen to yourself and DON’T write for a while.)

I suppose I’m also doing the health thing. I have hashimotos, which is basically why I was so sick for most of my time here and could barely get out of bed. Because of that, I’m eating gluten free and mostly natural, although ice cream and dark chocolate doesn’t seem to do any harm to me. So that means I’m also doing a lot of cooking, because processed food always seems to make me sick. Fun. On top of that I’m doing some easy going Yin yoga, or restorative IDK exactly what kind it is, but it’s mainly to manage pain and stay flexible after writing all day in a chair. 

So why post this? 

Because I guess I want to know if I should be posting stuff from my real life? Before, almost everything I posted was a response to an ask that someone sent me, so my entire blog was reader driven. Now I don’t really have that anymore, so it’s hard to know what anyone wants to hear, especially since I’m not doing that deep dive analysis into fandom or really any content. Any analysis I do is going to be impressions, or initial thoughts, not a dissertation like before. (It’s healthier for me that way.) 

So the question is, what do y’all want to hear about? Posts on homeschooling? Why? Most of you aren’t doing that? Do you want to talk to me about the historical romance books I’m reading? I could do that, but they can blur together, especially at the speed I read them. And because I reread the ones I really like a lot. I can’t really tell you about the books I’m ghostwriting since I signed a contract not to blab. They’re fun, I think. But you know. 

I could post my art work, idk. Not all of it is good. A lot of it is just about discovery. I could post poetry. I still haven’t figured out how to format poetry on this weird website. IDK maybe screenshots. I could post what’s happening in the garden. I could write about my ecourse and about writer’s block. Which I don’t have, obviously, since I am writing 3k words a day ghostwriting-- except I DO have it, every day. But I’ve managed coping strategies to work with it. I’m actually using it to deal with my struggles doing the e course. Listen this is how I get words on the page. 

I mean I post a lot of this stuff already on instagram instagram   https://www.instagram.com/rowenamurillo/ and on twitter   https://twitter.com/rosymamacita1 I’m mostly doing writer twitter, some romancelandia, some politics and feminism a touch of tv and movies. 

[nobody-knose--archive]

finally got around to listening to sketches 3d today and man! man! oh boy! liveblog under the cut!

-piano. exactly what i was expecting

-vibrato huh

-ayyy that's some. funky percussion

-this is like the fullerenes or something. a song about an Interesting Lady

-and there's that one grainy string synth/sample that andrew uses a lot & also appears in hawaii part ii

-more percussion. this is so cool

-i wasn't expecting this to be quite so minor key

-man if that was courtney on the flute there i think that'd be sick

-sing it andrew!

-i'm already having a more cheery time than i did with nat

-zubin???

-i will absolutely have to review that voice

-wait what the fuck is happening to her

-darling you good?

-anyway. classic andrew horowitz funky out-of-tune synths

-rattle rattle

-more out of tune piano. what song is this

-oh shit!!! this is the song my friends like

-tambourine <3

-you & me? sides of a coin? good & evil?

-so weird hearing all these lyrics i've seen in the song channel sung aloud for real

-andrew is doing some good singing here. he's good at carrying the melody on his own even though i've not heard much of that from him in the past save fate of the stars maybe

-he's always been good at that percussion

-all different types of percussion. tinny little gong like it's the whole world & you acoustic

-tambourine <3 <3

-so incredibly weird knowing what the lyrics are going to be without knowing what the song sounds like. i know how these words go in order but don't know how the melody carries them

-interesting thing about sketches so far. it's very strong & powerful but it doesn't block out the world like other new songs will. i'm not being taken somewhere else it's more like the whole rest of the world is being highlighted

-alright what's next?

-7/4 hummingbird????? or is this 6/4???

-no no no it's 5/4 and doing funky things with the onbeat i love this

-asking questions to a little creature is the best kind of pasttime and i mean that

-man andrew mixed this really well he's just. incredible at that

-he's making each song distnict while also giving sketches a clear theme

-a minor turn. i like that

-now what could this be?

-not lemons & pears yet?

-daisy fingers hell yes

-another song about a lady

-spoke mostly harmony oh you clever man

-thank you andrew for doing more with time signatures than tally hall ever did. first 5/4 and now 6/8

-the combination of very out of tune & rough percussions and incredibly beep bloopy synths is so cool

-conversations with a lady. this feels like a story of andrew visiting another world and being like "might as well write some songs about the fellows and stories round here"

-the whole album, i mean

-i am inspired by you, andrew

-this whole album is everything i could've hoped for and more

-the interesting thing about it is how few questions i find myself asking. i'm just looking at this stuff i have and being like wow! &, cool! not what i usually do with new albums

-divine inspiration bay be

-that's like. the opposite of an 80s fadeout

-oh that is absolutely the little sfx from the beginning of perfect at the end

-wait speaking of at the end

-no this is have a nice day interludinal

-is this a polyrhythm? there's a 4/4 type thing in the background and the foreground is. not on the onbeat i can say that much

-man i am going to have a nice day

-he's a good musician, able to make so much music out of a single interval

-lemons & pears!!!!

-toy orchestra my beloved that's the fuckin toy piano bay be wooooo

-but man oh boy does this sound absolutely different with only a one single guy singing

-ukulele in the bg? toy orchestra <3

-interesting being able to actually hear like. all of the lyrics for real

-some of the little riffs are gone and there are quite a many more

-hello?

-oh okay

-yeah i heard about the fucking gunshots that doesn't mean i was prepared for them

-the chorus sounds so nice i love this

-guest vocals?????????? whomst????????????

-who is this lady i'm so curious is she from the old toy orchestra? that'd be amazing

-breakdown time and it sounds so similar to the toy orchestra one. man

-at the end is. not the end of the album

-i think the thing that's getting me and not prompting as many questions is the fact that like. i hear these songs and hear tally hall songs. andrew's singing & i could hear this on a tally hall album with ease. it's strange

-i think the hi-hat and other little bits in this song, for example, reminds me of ross

-andrew's always tried hard at rock, and percussion is a massive part of that-wait he's scat singing i can finish that thought later i love this

-his songs are also very easy to sing along to without meaning to. first time hearing them and here i go

-anyway percussion is a massive part of rock, andy's always had an affinity for percussion, i think that's what's making me think of tally hall so much, or at least be. comfortably experiencing this in the same way i would a tally hall album

-i can't say the same of hawaii part ii

-if there's anywhere that lists the credits somewhere i'd like to see if ross worked on this at all but. i'm pretty sure he didn't

-where am i-oh shit a crowd

-nowhere else this is a song i think i know nothing about

-all that shit i was saying about rock percussion and now there's a whole entire drumkit going here

-alrighty

-that is not only andrew singing! again! who are you

-.....casey shea?????

-you sound like casey shea sir??????

-you are either casey shea or someone else who sounds like a beatle (affectionate, instead of derogatory)

-good guitar shit

-is that a third voice or does andrew just sound like that?

-madi diaz???

-i'm probably just guessing her because of the rendezvous but. there's gotta be someone more

-a whole lot of love going on here and i do appreciate it

-is it 80's fadeout time now? hell yeah

-oh yes the rainbow connection! a cover and the final song of the album (not counting the bonus tracks, which i will be listening to)

-i think i may have heard this before? or at least the minor rendition

-stylophone?

-humming. classic move

-theremin??

-music box is also cool. i swear i won't just be commentating on the instrumence alright

-what on earth is this sample in the background. steadily getting louder

-man andrew is a great singer. the consistent double vocals/heavy vibrato suits him well

-i will assume these are samples from like. the muppets movie

-does sketches (3d or otherwise) have a pdf like hwptii & nat? i sure hope so because i will enjoy looking at it

-vocalizing again let's a go

-more gong wahoo

-bonus track time <3

-tomorrow & today is a song i know pretty damn well i hope he's more legible now

-mostly the same as the 2011 version but it certainly is updated i can tell. more echo on these beginning lines

-piano is stronger. there may or may not be some added flairs. not a whole lot blatantly changed but i can say. i'll remove the 2011 version and replace it with this one for charlie

-there's a riff in my right ear that i don't remember and i like it

-this bit right here is more legible in general thank god it was incomprehensible originally

-the stomping percussion is Goin places

-and to end the whole song- you know yesterday fueled by a listen of nat i came up with an abundance of thoughts on writing styles in tally hall and especially how andrew's songs go places and what the journey's like and while that essay really won't fit into this liveblog i really enjoy how tomorrow & today has no destination in mind and it's a gradual trip but you never look back

-such strong g&e vibes

-misfortune bay be! time to replace the other misfortune charlie has with this

-sheet music???? jenny where did you find this? [referring to the image used in the video she uploaded i listened to] also this is still not the whole song i know the original misfortune wasn't but it feels strange to start this far into the song

-chords my beloved i could fucking play this song i'm so hyped about that

-toy orchestra solid soda real <3

-the one and only studio recording toy orchestra did. this is some of the best evidence for steve gallagher's voice we have

-also the audio is higher quality than the yt upload i think

-oh a casio organ not a real organ. okay i can't complain

-i like the sound of the piano at least. also this is horrendously gorey i like it

-andrew horowitz horror writer extraordinaire

-these sound like the sorts of drum synths my electric organ has

-i actually can't tell if that one's a guest vocal or andrew just being a very very good singer

-this sounds like some sort of recording you'd take of your kid's music school performance

-oh it's over

-fuck that was good

[aspiring-ginger]

Thunderstorms Ch.1 (Fellowship x Reader)

Summary: Reader is in for a pretty large and unexpected surprise when a massive thunderstorm hits. How did the Fellowship of the Ring end up in your backyard?

Warnings: Language

Word count: 3,151

Pairing(s): Platonic Fellowship of the ring x fem!reader, eventual romantic interest (Lord of the Rings)

Who do you want Reader to end up with? Vote here!

A/N: Okay, absolutely no one asked for this, but here we are. I’ve been kicking myself for not doing requests or FMN ch2 because of terrible writers block but I got a random stroke of inspiration and decided to write this. I figured it’d be better to write anything than nothing at all! Because this is in a modern setting, reader is from the US because I am, and any slang I use I want to be authentic and don’t want to offend anyone by trying to pass it off as somewhere else. I hope y’all enjoy this!

Comments and feedback are always appreciated! Let me know if you want more!

Taglist: @thunderdog8​ 

Masterlist I Next 

You stretched out your stiff muscles as you stood from your desk chair. You rubbed your hand down your face and paused your music, deciding that it was time to take a break and make some lunch. Groaning as you opened the refrigerator door you called out,

"Alexa, play some music" Not really caring what it picked as long as it was something.

You were home alone in your childhood house, and any noise was a much needed distraction from the eerie creaking and groaning of the building around you. Your parents were off in their summer home down south having to take care of some repairs or leasing or something, so they left you in charge. You didn't mind, it was a place to stay while you worked and took online classes to finish school. Plus, you had the whole place to yourself, so it didn't matter how messed up your sleep schedule was, or how much noise you made. 

You would have to go to the store soon, you thought to yourself, glancing around your mostly empty shelves to find something edible. You decided on a quick sandwich and some fruit, grabbing the necessary ingredients and humming along to the music as you worked. 

When you finished, you debated watching something as you ate or simply eating as you worked. You decided on the former- after all, you'd been on top of all your school work so there was no rush to get anything done. With that decision out of the way now you just had to decide what exactly to watch. You sat down on the couch with your drink and food in hand, looking around the living room for inspiration. 

It had been awhile since you watched any of your favorites again, you thought as your eyes landed on a Harry Potter DVD that had been collecting dust on top of your playstation from whenever you watched it last. But no, you weren't really in the mood for wizards. Pirates of the Caribbean? That was always a good one. Plus, it had Orlando Bloom in it so….yay. You snapped your fingers- that was it! Lord of the Rings! It still had Orlando Bloom, but it had that deep fantasy setting you've been craving. You popped in the first disc of Fellowship, extended edition of course, and began happily munching on your lunch.

---

Your heart swelled as the credits rolled, remembering just how much you loved those movies. The scenery, costumes, soundtrack, actors, everything about it was just so, so, ugh! You just loved it so much. You grew up on these movies and they always had a special place in your heart. 

They were still super long, though, and you needed to get back to work. You cleaned up the living room and headed back upstairs to finish your essay for class. Smiling, you decided to put on the soundtrack from fellowship instead of whatever you were listening to last. Maybe then you would get more inspiration? Or at least time would pass quicker. Whatever it was, you just needed more to satisfy your lotr craving. You were definitely watching the other two movies when you were done.

You got several hours of good work done, not even realizing when your music had switched to the two towers. You were snapped out of your work-zone when a clap of thunder sounded outside, and you realized just how dark it was. The only light in the room was your computer screen. You went to turn on the light and continue working when you saw lightning flash from outside your window. Frowning, you remembered when you checked the weather this morning and the chance of rain was very low. Of course meteorologists are never really 100% right all the time, but this seemed a little off. How could they miss a huge thunderstorm? 

You just shrugged and sat back down at your desk to finish- you were so close to being done! At least you'd sleep well later to the sound of rain. You saved your document just go be safe. Yeah your program autosaved your work but you couldn't be too careful if there was a storm. What if the power went out? Whatever, you just needed to focus to finish the last two paragraphs and then you'd be done. 

You glanced up to your window as you began to type when- a huge rumble of thunder shook your whole house and lightning flashed incredibly bright. You felt the weight of the thunder even rattle your insides as you were seemingly blinded by the lightning. Blinking, you looked around to see what the hell just happened. There was nothing but darkness around you, your monitor no longer showing the essay you'd been working on for so long. You were right- the power went out. And holy shit were you glad you saved.

If the thunder and lightning were so close together, that meant the storm was above you, right? You stood up to get a closer look out your window. Wind was howling, whipping the rain and trees all around in the torrential downpour. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed again, slightly farther apart this time, and what you saw outside….well you definitely didn't expect.

The brief flash of light illuminated figures of people laying down in your backyard. What? You rubbed your eyes and looked harder out into the darkness, still seeing the motionless shapes. Your backyard was fenced in and locked, there was no way so many people could get in. And why were they just laying there? In the rain?? You were so utterly confused. There was just no way. You had to be going crazy. This was just you seeing things in the shadows because you were home alone. It was nothing. 

Your stomach churned as you paced around your office. Should you go outside? Or at least downstairs to get a closer look? What if they needed help and were stuck in the rain? There were some woods beyond your property so maybe they wandered in. But no. Were you crazy? That's how stupid people always die in horror films. Something incredibly weird and scary happens and they go check it out. And then they get brutally murdered or something. No. Out of the question. You tried to tell yourself that you were just seeing things, making shapes out of shadows for nothing. There was nothing there. But no, your stomach didn't agree. Your gut told you there really were people out there. You saw them in the flash of light. If they were just shadows, you wouldn't have seen anything from the lightning.

Okay, so, there really were people in your yard. What should you do? Call the police? And then what? Hi officer I think I see a bunch of men in my backyard. No they're just laying there. How dumb would that sound?? Ugh no, you couldn't do that. If they were just laying there….how long had they been there? You certainly didn't see anything from the kitchen during lunch. The knot in your stomach twisted further. If they ended up needing help or something and you just sat there doing nothing, you would end up kicking yourself about it later.

Ugh! Curse your stupid moral compass and your need to help others. If this was how you died by being the stupid person in a scary movie, then so be it. You used the flashlight from your phone to light the way through your house, throwing on some shoes and a raincoat as you headed downstairs. Since it was still light out when you were last down here, the blinds were all open and you had a good view outside of both the front and back. There were definitely people out there. Now that you were closer you could make out at least...8 bodies in the grass? You crept into the kitchen and shined your flashlight out the glass door. Your light reflected off of several of the figures. You thought they might be wearing reflective gear or something, but the light wasn't as bright as it should've been. No, that was metal that reflected the light. 

You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your fists in hopes of gathering up some courage. You sighed and tried to calm your nerves. You reached out and unlocked the door, pausing to see if the bodies would react to the noise. They didn't flinch, so after a moment you pulled the door open, and slid the screen door to the side . They didn't react to that either, so you stepped out into the rain.

Without turning your back on them, you stepped around to the wood pile nearby, glancing back to grab a long stick. There was no way you were gonna touch these strangers. Stick in hand, you crept up to the nearest one. Upon closer inspection, you saw what was reflecting the light from the door. Laying in front of you was a man with dark medium length hair. His clothes were ragged, a green cloak hung around his shoulders.  It certainly looked nothing like anyone would wear currently. Strangest of all, however, was a sword strapped to his back along with what appeared to be a blanket. Tilting your phone around, it looked very real. A foam sword or prop wouldn't shine like that.

You looked over to another figure and saw a similar sight. A man with medium length hair and a green cloak but instead of a sword on his back, he had a large round shield with what you think was a sword strapped to his hip. What the fuck? You glanced to another, a man with long blond hair and a matching green cloak but this time with a bow, daggers, and a quiver full of arrows at his back. You knew these props. It looked so familiar. Your breathing picked up as you looked over another figure. This one was much smaller. He had shorter, currier hair and again the same matching green cloak. Where the other men had boots however, this man...child(?)'s feet were bare. And large. Much larger than you would think for someone of his size. 

The pit in your stomach sank much deeper. You knew who these men were, or, at least trying to be. You literally just watched the first freaking movie. You identified each member of the fellowship of the ring. Aragon was in front of you, followed by Boromir, then Legolas. You saw Frodo, Sam, and you couldn't tell which one was Merry or Pippin from this distance but there were definitely four Hobbits. The furthest figure must've been Gimli. Gandalf was not among them, but that would make sense given the rest of the fellowships matching green cloaks. You were definitely freaking out now. There were a bunch of freaking cosplayers passed out in your yard? What the hell were you gonna do now? Your thoughts were racing, but your stomach was faring much worse. Somehow, you thought, it was much worse than it seemed.

You thrust your stick forward, prodding at the 'Aragorn' that lay at your feet. He didn't stir, so you poked a little harder. You thought you saw his breathing quicken, but reached forward with your stick anyway, just for good measure. The man shot up and grabbed your stick away from you in one fluid motion, drawing his blade with his other hand.

You stood like a deer in headlights, unmoving with eyes wide. The man held his sword out at you, pointing it at your throat while he glanced at his surroundings. You blinked and quickly threw your hands up in surrender, dropping your phone in the grass. Thankfully, it landed face down so it still provided some light. Rain continued to pour.

'Aragorn' looked back at his companions all strewn about then turned back towards you, thrusting his sword in warning.

"Who are you and what have you done to them?" The man spoke and you just stared, mouth agape. 

"What is this place? Answer me!" He insisted and took a step forward bringing the blade closer to your throat. There was no way that thing was a prop. That thing looked sharp.

You tried to speak, your mouth suddenly dry and tongue getting caught in your throat. His yelling, it seemed, was loud enough to wake the others, as they began to stir. 

"Aragorn. What is this place, what is going on?" You heard another voice speak and a blade removed from its sheath. Boromir stepped up to Aragorn's side and held his blade out at you as well.

Your mind was racing at 100mph but you were just frozen in place, shock taking over your body. How were you supposed to respond to this? What were you supposed to do? Looking at each of them, that was, without a shadow of a doubt, Aragorn and Boromir. 

"I-I…" you began, trying to form the right words. Aragorn simply raised a brow, "I-uh.. my name is (y/n) and um, you're in my backyard? I have no idea how you got here."

"Your yard? This is your house?"

"Uh- yeah um...do you want to come inside?" Aragorn and Boromir exchanged glances.

"How are you so quick to invite us in? What do you want from us?"

"Nothing!" You answered a bit too quickly, your voice going up in pitch, "Uh I mean n-nothing. I don't want anything from you. I was just writing in my house when the thunder hit and I looked outside and you all were just laying here, so I came out to see what was going on. Look, I wasn't even armed!" You gestured to your stick that was still in Aragorn's hand. 

He glanced down at it and indeed, it wasn't even sharp. He dropped it to the ground, calling out something in elvish, you only picked up Legolas' name. He responded in kind, and Aragorn nodded. He called out another phrase and turned back to you.

"You seem to be telling the truth, and we have no memory of how we arrived. We are in no position to refuse such a generous offer, but know this-" he twirled the sword in his hand before sheathing it, "should you try anything, we are armed." Boromir did the same, and you nodded in agreement. Legolas was helping the others up. 

"Please, um, follow me." You weren't sure if you should let them go first or show them in, so you decided to enter before them to show that you really didn't have any traps or anything malicious. 

You held your back door open for them as they entered one by one, all looking around at their strange new surroundings. Aragorn was last to enter, and you awkwardly shut the door behind them and locked it. They all looked to you expectantly, dripping water all over your kitchen. 

Aragorn cleared his throat and took a small step forward. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This here is Boromir of Gondor, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Gimli, son of Gloin. The halflings are Meriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took, Samwise Gamgee and, Frodo Baggins." Each bowed their heads as they were introduced. "And your name once more, my lady?"

"(Y/n) (l/n)....of Earth..?" You winced as you added the 'earth' bit. Here you were with your childhood heroes all standing in your kitchen, and you were just making a complete fool of yourself. 

"You have our gratitude, my lady. " Aragorn put a hand at his heart. "Would you, perhaps, direct us back on course so we may be on our way? We would hate to impose." He glanced around your kitchen as he spoke, looking curiously at your appliances.

"Um..about that." You began to sweat. How the fuck are you supposed to tell them that they're in a completely different world with little to no chance of getting home?! "Uh, please um take a seat if you want. This um.. is going to be hard to explain." The men gave you strange looks while the hobbits pulled out your four kitchen chairs and sat down.

"You're not in Middle-Earth any more, but that's pretty obvious I guess. Uh, here it's called Earth. Just Earth, no middle. We don't really have any kingdoms here, each country has their own elected officials or dictators. We're in the United States of America, or the US for short. You um… you're in a different world than yours. And time, I guess. We're also a lot more advanced with our technology than you. Oh shit- um.. I realize now that it's weird  that I know you're from Middle-Earth but let me explain ummm" you were definitely panicking now "Middle-Earth exists here? But.. to us, it's just a work of fiction, a story from a book. A really popular book. Like, the whole world has probably at least heard of it. So you're all um, characters in the book. Well, books actually. It's a series. Um, the author is J. R. R. Tolkien and the series is called The Lord of the Rings. And movies too. Really famous movies…" you trailed off.

They all stared at you in shock. 

"I can prove it! Here….you must still be in the first book, The Fellowship of the Ring. I mean no offense, but I'm guessing that you just went through Moria and then Lothlorien, and were making your way down the river Anduin and planning to approach Mordor from the north...right?"

Their eyes went wide and they all exchanged looks. 

"How do you know that?" Gimli asked.

"Well uh, I can tell because of your cloaks. You got them from Lorien, they have the leaves. And they look new, they're not that dirty yet. And Gandalf isn't with you.." you finished sheepishly. You almost said because Boromir was still there. And they were all still together. Thank god you kept that information to yourself.

"So," Boromir began, "Your entire world knows of the ring? And our mission?"

"Of course!" Their shoulders sagged so you quickly added, "Well the books and movies are super popular! A ton of people know your story, but that's a good thing! Everyone knows your story because they love it and they're rooting for you. They want your mission to succeed and to see the ring destroyed, too." They looked visibly relieved. " I swear on my life that I want nothing to do with the ring and I want you to succeed at all costs. I've grown up loving the books and the movies, so it really means a lot to me." You swallowed as you realized how awkward that sounded.

"Thats nice but, what's a movie?" Pippin asked.

Oh god, this was going to be a very long night.

Taglist is open!

[pulledpurplecurtains]

all the odd ones for the fic questions pls and thank you pepster

all the odd ones, meaning 1, 3 etc right? oh BOY are we gonna be here for a while (and i love it 🥰)

it’s morning right now so let’s see how long throughout the day this is gonna take me sdfghjk let’s do it!!

1) what was the first fandom you got involved in?

hmmmm. i wanna say harry potter, more than a decade ago? specifically dramione and scorose

3) what is the best fandom you’ve been involved in?

for all that it has given me i have to say bechloe

5) which fandoms have you written fanfiction for?

so far just for bechloe

7) list your NoTPs from each fandom you’ve been in

i’m only gonna list pairs i have strong feelings against and from only the fandoms i’ve been most involved in

harry potter: snape and hermione

frozen: elsa and hans (no but for real. why)

pitch perfect: beca and jessie, chloe and chicago

marvel: hm hm surprisingly nothing comes to mind

the haunting of bly manor: same as for marvel

9) what are the best things about your current fandom?

having a space where i can fully be myself, expressing myself freely through my writing, meeting so many wonderful people, having a previously unexplored side of myself revealed to me, finding and delving into characters that make me feel less alone, and so much more. it’s been a real blessing, having this fandom in my life

11) who is your current OTP?

bechloe

(this was the point where tumblr lost me ALL MY ANSWERS FROM QUESTIONS 13 TO 33 so let’s do this again SHALL WE??? i’ll be saving each answer as we go dear god)

13) any NoTPs?

already answered!

15) is there an obscure ship which you love?

hmm i don’t think so? none that comes to mind at least

17) who was your first OTP and are they still your favorite?

my first OTP, before i even knew what an OTP was, was scorpius and rose from harry potter. it’s not still on top of my OTP list, but always has a special place in my heart

19) is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them?

not really? i mean, there are popular ships that i don’t support, like hermione with bellatrix or natasha with wanda for example. i can see their appeal and i get why people like them. they’re just not for me and i’m okay with that

21) what was the first fanfic you ever wrote?

ah my accidental multi chap baby sdfghjkdfg

All is Fair in Love and War was posted as an one shot, and that was all it was supposed to be. it was my first finished written piece. and then a couple of people in the comments were really nice abt sharing thoughts of where the story could go next and what they’d like to see happen, and they were very enthusiastic abt wanting to see more of that story. so the second chapter was born

sooo one thing led to the other and before i knew it that fic had become an 8 chapter, over 60k words story sdfghjkdf i’m amused and grateful to this day

23) name a fic you’ve written that you’re especially fond of and explain why you like it

how can you ask a mother to pick her favorite of her kids HUH

no but for real, i love all of my stories equally. i’m a perfectionist, so nothing gets posted before it’s perfect in my eyes. plus, all my stories are my babies. each has its flaws and imperfections, each in their own ways. but they’re all beautiful and meaningful to me

what i will say is, i have a particular soft spot for (wondering if you knew) i was enchanted to meet you. i truly think my writing peaked in that story, in all the parallels and tiny but very important things that are in there

25) what’s your most popular fanfic?

based on views and kudos, it’s All is fair in Love and War

ofc that’s a multi chap, so maybe the numbers aren’t exactly equivalent to popularity

my most popular one shot, by a very large margin at that, is (i’ll let you in) and baby, that’s when

27) what do you hate more: coming up with titles or writing summaries?

i honestly love coming up with titles

writing summaries, on the other hand, is the bane of my existence

29) do you have a beta reader? why/why not?

i don’t, and it’s bc i’m literally incapable of taking any kind of critique over anything unfinished. once it’s posted and out in the world it’s fair game; but until then? that’s a big no for me

31) what’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about your writing?

i honestly can’t answer this question bc every comment is so so special and important to me. i often go back and read them all. even right now while writing this there are so many different comments swirling around in my head. i appreciate and am grateful for all the kind words always 💜

33) do you write one shots, multi chapters, or huge epics?

sdfghjkk definitely not huge epics

i’ve written both of the other two. in the beginning i preferred and wanted to write multi chapters. however nowadays and for the past year or so, i lean more heavily towards one shots

35) do you write drabbles? if so, what do you normally write them about?

i am physically and mentally incapable of writing short things sdfghjkd so no, i don’t write drabbles

37) first person or third person? what do you write in and why?

always third person. idk the idea of first person narration always seemed weird to me. plus, i see my stories as me retelling the events the characters have confided in me. so third person makes sense and it’s also why i use past tense in my stories

39) what is your greatest strength as a writer?

describing and narrating emotions and using metaphors

41) list and link to five fanfics you’re currently reading

my reader’s block has been going strong, so i’m not reading anything currently unfortunately

43) is there anyone in your fandom who really inspires you?

my squirrels 💜

45) what is your all time favorite fanfic?

i have to say Experimentation i just have to

i also love Perdition, what an incredible piece of writing

47) ao3, ff.net or tumblr - where do you prefer to post and why?

definitely ao3, i just love its interface i guess?

49) do you care if people comment on/ reblog your writing? why/why not?

okay so here’s the deal. ofc i care. every artist who shares their work, every creator, cares; at least to a degree. it’s why we share. we want people to see and love and appreciate our work, we want it recognised and celebrated even. we want people to engage with it, show it to their friends, talk abt it, have thoughts abt it. it’s only natural and ofc i’m absolutely no exception

with that said. i’ve always tried to remind myself that kudos/likes are also engagement. that even just reading is engagement. that everyone’s limit or ability for engagement isn’t the same, and that ultimately it’s their choice how or if they’ll engage with my writing. i try to, and i do, value everyone who even just reads my stories. i share something with the world for free and it’s my choice to do and continue to do so. what happens after that isn’t up to me

so yes i do care a lot abt reblogs and comments. they make me very happy, they validate and encourage me. but people have no obligation, in my eyes at least, to engage with my works a specific way. just like i have no specific obligation to provide a certain type of content on set periods of time or with a set limit of words or to continue to provide stories; or literally any other obligation. no one can police my actions and choices up until i’ve posted a story and i can’t police anyone’s actions or choices after i’ve posted it. and that’s the beauty of fandom for me - we’re all here bc we want to and bc it makes us happy, with no expectations or obligations

ending this with an essay seems only suitable sdfghjkd thank you my egg for giving me the opportunity to talk abt myself in such length 😌💜

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry VI. Cerca del suelo

A/N: DISCLAIMER THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY, I just want to write this here so I can read it when I get writer’s block again. I had forgotten how much I like writing. I guess I can say writer’s block is a really long, torturous and terrible thing but I’m starting to think it happened to me when my writing started getting attention because then I started writing for others and I don’t enjoy that half as much as I enjoy writing to myself. So this writing and this story is for me; but I’m gonna share it with you. That being said, happy reading!

Before: I, II, III, IV, V

**Contains filthy sinful smut and explicit language.

Ollie frowns before she bites her bottom lip and twirls her drink on her hand and I too watch the ice cubes dancing around on her glass. Jason laughs at something he’s told Marie on her ear and by the way her eyes widen and her cheeks turn pink I don’t want to know what he’s said.

“Indie.” Jason calls me. “Are you going to tell us or not?”

“Yeah, what happened?” Marie gives me a little smile.

She’s drunk already. I watch her tiny figure on her black top and her jeans and am afraid she keeps drinking because she’ll end up throwing up like I did last Friday. She gave me such a hard time this morning when I told them about my night with Harry even though Jason cut me short in order to keep the hype for this very same moment. Drinks after dinner and gossip. His favourite Friday night plan.

“Penis size.” Jason demands.

I roll my eyes before I smile at him mischievously as he joins his hands before his face as if he were going to pray and then slowly moves them away and away. Obviously I don’t say anything and his eyes widen.

“What?!” His hands keep separating from one another. “Okay, this is impossible. I’m starting over.”

Ollie throws her head back and laugh and I just shake my head. Marie tries to stop his hands and he gives up.

“It was big.” He shrugs. “The smile you got this morning confirmed it.”

We all laugh.

“I still can’t believe you actually slept with him.” Marie condemns. “He’s your tutor for God’s sake. He has to supervise your freaking essay! Have you thought about how you’re going to go on about that?”

“Okay, Marie, you need to calm down. It’s just an essay. It’s not like they have to perform an open-heart surgery together.”

“Harry told me if I wanted he could ask professor Gibbins to supervise my essay for me.” I shrug.

“But you’re not gonna do that, right?” Olivia asked.

I shrug again.

“See? That would clearly means it affects you academically.” Marie adds.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Jason intervenes. “How is he coming on about it?” I fix my eyes on his with a questioning look. “I mean what has he said?”

“Well let her finish!” Olivia complains. “All we know is they had sex. We don’t know any details.”

“Well I’m not planning on giving you any details.”

“See? You killed the vibe guys!”

I roll my eyes.

“He didn’t say anything.” I tell them. “Because I left before he woke up.” I flinch.

Marie’s jaw falls, Olivia starts choking with her drink and Jason, being the dramatic queen he is, just spits his.

“You did what?” He yells.

“I panicked!” I defend myself. “I just… It all happened pretty fast I wasn’t even expecting to have sex with him at all and then we did and I fell asleep accidentally and I woke up at like 5 am and left because… Well because what was I doing there?”

“When you mean you fell asleep accidentally, you mean he tired you out so bad you literally just fell asleep?” Jason’s eyes provoke me with his usual spark I’ve missed so much lately.

I’m glad my drama is at least bringing playful Jason back. I haven’t heard him teasing any of us like that in weeks so I roll my eyes and sit back on my chair.

“And he hasn’t called you or text you or something?” Marie asks.

I shake my head and she places her hand on top of mine. This is what I love about Marie. I know she doesn’t approve of what I did but the way she cares about me overcomes her disagreement. She might not want me to get involved with Harry, but she’ll feel sorry for me if I don’t get what I want anyway.

“How is he going to call her if she’s the one who left?” Jason says. “You should call him!”

“But he’s the guy…” Marie shrugs. “Usually is the guy who calls.”

“Maybe that’s why I wasn’t good with girls.” Jason shrugs.

“You weren’t good with girls because you’re gay.” Olivia smiles.

“I’m bisexual.”

“You’re not.”

Jason smiles at her.

“The fact that I was never attracted to you does not make me gay, Ollie.”

She shrugs and pouts raising her eyebrows and if the concept whatever had a face, I’m sure it would be that one. They both laugh because they’re the same person in two different bodies. That’s the reason why JJ was never attracted to Ollie but they’re not ready to talk about that.

“So on Monday you’re just gonna go to his office with your essay and wait for him to give you corrections after not even calling him after you disappeared on him.”

I don’t know whether that was a question, an accusation or opcion C. I shrug. Olivia rolls her eyes and grabs my phone.

“Let me see.”

“No, Ollie! No, give it back!”

Jason defends her standing in the middle of us two as she unblocks my phone. I call for Marie’s help and she tries to grab the phone away from her but Olivia’s taller so my little ally has little to do.

“Where to begin?” She thinks out loud. “How should I start J?”

“Just call him.” Jason lets out.

“Do not. Do not call him.”

“Guys don’t be cruel.”

Marie tries to grab my phone back as the nerves eat my stomach up. I feel like puking.

“I’ll text him!” I offer and I spot Olivia’s head popping up from behind Jason’s back. She’s got a single eyebrow up and JJ and her exchange a look.

“I wouldn’t trust her but she’s about to cry. Give her the phone.” He shrugs.

Ollie hands me the phone and I check she didn’t text Harry anything with my heart pounding against my rib cage.

“What do you think I should do, Marie?”

Her eyes widen while Olivia and Jason complain about why I’d ask her and ignore them. I think Marie’s going to tell me she doesn’t know, that she doesn’t have much experience with guys, because ever since her ex cheated on her she hasn’t gone out with anyone but deep down I know I just want for someone to tell me I don’t have to call him and I think Marie is going to say that. Instead she shrugs and wraps her little arm around my shoulders.

“I think we should have another drink.”

Oh, Marie, you’re drunk and not helping much. I see Ollie and Jason arguing as we lean at the bar and wait for the waiter to take our order. He eyes my friend once as Marie looks to her nails. He eyes her again and smiles to himself.

“Marie, the waiter’s got the hots for you.”

Marie looks at him as he takes an order and then back at me with a questioning look. Damn it, she’s so unlucky. If this was a movie she would have caught him staring but this is not and that’s why Harry hasn’t called me either because this is not a movie, this is real life and in real life girls like me don’t go out with guys like Harry.

“I think you should text him.”

My eyes bulge as I look at Marie.

“What can I offer the prettiest girl at the bar?”

I hear her giggles from behind me. Good job, waiter. If he had said that to me I would have rolled my eyes and told him to get himself some glasses but this is Marie we’re talking about. She probably is the prettiest girl at the bar anyway and she’s also a firm romcom believer so that pick-up line was perfect for her.

“I’ll have Bacardi and coke and Bulldog and tonic, please.”

He winks at her before he disappears to get our drinks ready.

“What did you say?” I ask her as soon as she turns around.

“You didn’t want Bulldog? I can probably ask him to change it, sorry!”

She’s about to call the waiter when I stop her.

“No!” I tell her. “I mean, did you say you think I should call Harry?”

“I said text.” She points. “And yes, I did because I think you should. I just didn’t say anything in front of Jason and Ollie for them not to think they were right. Lord knows they don’t need me to feed their ego.”

Before I can argue, Marie’s waiter comes back with our two drinks and a bowl with gummy bears we didn’t ask for. He winks at Marie and doesn’t tell her how much she ought to pay. I smile. He’s good. Marie hands him her credit card anyway.

“It’s on the house.”

“No, it’s not.” She smiles.

“I insist.”

“If you want to offer me a drink, I’d rather you have it with me.”

My eyes widen behind my friend and I see the waiter blushing and laughing. Well done, Marie! He then accepts her credit card and asks for her phone number and my friend gives it to him and turns around as if that happened to her on a daily basis. We walk away like divas until we are at a safe distance and then we laugh out loud.

“What was that? Did Olivia’s spirit posses you?”

“I don’t know!” She laughs. “I mean we talked last night while you were on your date with Harry and you know how she is, she tried to convince me about the benefits of sporadic sex and I don’t know, it got me thinking.” She giggles. “He was handsome, right?”

“He was!” I laugh. “Guys, the waiter just asked for Marie’s number!”

“What? Which waiter?”

Jason’s eyes widen as he looks at her and Marie tells him the story and I don’t fail to notice the way Olivia’s eyes fall on her and she smiles knowingly. Oh, Ollie. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and hug her to my side even though she just tried to ruin my life by calling Harry treacherously because I know she means well.

I remember when she would tell Jason about how different things were when you actually took the time to get to know the person you were attracted to and everything about love and trust and forever and ever and Jason would go out with a different person every weekend.

It’s surprising how a heartbreak can change a person, just how love can change them back I guess for after Jack hurt Olivia she turned into Jason and ever since Jason met David he turned into a romantic soul defending and justifying a toxic relationship.

I wonder if there’s ever a healthy point. I think there might be if one of them or maybe both are psychotherapists but otherwise I think love is bound to make people crazy and then they start doing weird shit until the situation turns impossible and then one of them decides to end it or they both settle into being less happy than they could be.

“Yeah, right, and then he pays for dinner and thinks for that he has the right to fuck you and then he never calls you again.”

Marie’s words resound on my head like a mantra. And then he never calls you again… That would make everything easier and anyway part of me knew everything he wanted was a shag and then he’d get over it and act as if nothing ever happened but then why does it matter to me that he hasn’t called me?

“Sorry.”

When I look up I catch on the look Jason gave Marie for her to apologize. I don’t think they were talking about me but even if they were, I wouldn’t mind. They’re right. I feel like a prostitute.

“Anyway, Indie” Ollie has a sip from her drink and wiggles her eyebrows “did you like it?”

“What? The sex?”

She nods and shrugs raising her eyebrows as if saying what else?

“Well, Harry we all know you like.” She laughs.

What can I say?

“It was incredible.” I confess.

I don’t want to say what follows. I don’t even want to think about it. It can’t be true anyway. There’s no way it’s true. I don’t love Harry. But precisely because I don’t love him I could admit it was the best sex without love of my life. Yeah, that could be it. It doesn’t make me feel less guilty though.

“Well, at least it was worth the trouble.”

“What trouble?” Ollie asks. 

“Well, I mean it’s not the smartest thing to do if she wants him to respect her.” Marie raises her eyebrows.

“What?” I will not stand that. “So just because I have sex I don’t deserve respect?”

“No, Indie, you know what I mean. I just mean if the rest of doctors hear about it, what do you think they would think?”

“Why would I care what they think?” I am getting mad. “I can’t believe you’re saying that, Marie. It’s precisely for comments like that that we can’t move past it. Do you realize how sexist you’re sounding right now? You don’t think that same thing of him, do you? Just because he’s a man!”

“I am the sexist? You were the one who let her professor fuck her! Who knows how many students has he fucked?”

I can’t believe my ears.

“Let him fuck me?” I’m disgusted at her choice of words. “There were two people on that bed, you know? I did what I wanted to do. I didn’t let him fuck me. I fucked him too!” I only realize I’m screaming when I notice the eyes of those around us on me. “I know how to say no, you know?”

“Well you said you didn’t want to sleep with him and look at you.” She whispers. “Are you sure you didn’t leave in the morning because you regretted it? Maybe you were even embarrassed?”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.”

I leave Marie gasping like a fish out of water and walk outside to the terrace. It’s the end of October already and it’s rather chilly today so I’m not surprised when I realize the only people around me are smoking.

I bring the collar of my denim jacket to my chin and hug my frame as I look ahead at the lights on the bars on the other side of the street. I can’t believe Marie had said all that to me. One minute she’s saying she thinks I should text him and the other she’s throwing all that shit at me. I know she’s overly protective but she can be such a bitch sometimes too.

And I quite frankly don’t get the concept she has of sex. She almost made it sound as if Harry had somehow raped me and for the love of God even thinking about it makes me hate her words. What happened with Harry was… Perfect.

And that’s why I left.

I feel tears blurring my vision. Fuck. I wasn’t expecting these thoughts to be clouding my mind now. I feel my phone vibrating and take it out the pocket of my jacket. Rio said he would text me when he was going home and check if I needed a ride but it’s too soon for him to want to go home already. Maybe he’s having a shitty night just like I am.

Harry: What are you doing?

I hold the phone on my hand and can barely believe my eyes as I read his text again and again. I hadn’t even thought about one of the many terrible things Marie just said. How many students has he fucked? I don’t know if I care. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care about how many women he’s fucked in the past or even how many women he’s fucking now. I can’t walk around pretending I’m the most liberated woman and then question how many women my partner has fucked. If he’s fucked a lot of students well, good for them.

He clearly has experience. One isn’t a master in sex by studying about it. The way he touched me and the way he hit every spot he needed to clearly indicated practice. But it’s not about the practice or even the sex. I don’t care about that, that I know. It’s about fucking students.

I entertain the thought that Marie might be right. What if he did take advantage of me? What if he always does this? Make his student wet and then get in her panties and if I’ve seen you, I don’t remember. This is the kind of behaviour I would condemn if I heard about it. I would be one of those people who would think he was a jerk for taking advantage of a student like that. I guess that’s just another way of being sexist though.

“Hey.” Olivia places her hand on the spot between my shoulder blades.

“Hey.” I give her a little smile.

“Marie’s really sorry.” She mediates. “She wanted to come talk to you but I told her it was better if she gave you some space.”

“Do you think she’s right?”  

Olivia shakes her head.

“Do you?”

It’s hard for me to know that kind of things now. It’s a fear I can’t get rid off. After Javier, I mean after getting out of an abusive relationship like that, I keep wondering if I would ever jump right back into another. Whether I’m that profile of girl and I’m bound to have my partner abusing of me whether I realize it or not.

I’m seeing that with Jason too and I realize how scary and how hard it is. He doesn’t see it, he’s completely blind and you start wondering how is it possible that not only he doesn’t realize but he also justifies it. It’s very frustrating to talk to someone that not only allows someone else to hurt them but actually understands them. It’s scary what someone can do to somebody’s mind.

“Can I tell you what I think?” Olivia lights up the cigarette between her lips and I shrug. “I think you like him.”

I look ahead. That doesn’t matter. I still have my phone on my hand and we both look down when the screen lights up and another text pops up.

Harry: Are you home?

“And he likes you too.” Olivia smiles. “Answer him. I’m gonna get us another drink.”

Indie: It’s Friday night. Of course I’m not.

Harry: What? You go out every single Friday night?

Indie: Don’t you?

Harry: Sometimes I forget you’re 21.

Harry: Can we talk?

Indie: We’re talking.

Harry: I mean can I see you?

Indie: It’s Golden Girls’ night.

Harry: Can I call you then?

Indie: What’s the problem with texting?

Harry: Sometimes you forget I’m 27.

I chuckle and call him. He answers on the first beep.

“Why did you leave?”

Oh, boy.

“I had to go. You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You had to go? In the middle of the night?”

“It was morning…”

“Indie.”

“I wanted to go home before uni so I left early. I didn’t realize I had to give you any explanations.”

“Fuck, Indie. Are you always so blunt?”

“I did warn you. You said I got to be blunt.” I shrug even though he can’t see me.

“You didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

“Well, it’s not like you saying goodbye would have made a difference, is it?”

“I would have kissed you” he argues “and that would have made a difference.”

My knees go weak.

“Are you with Olivia?”

“Yes?”

Please tell me he’s not about to ask me for her phone number. I would tear his head off.

“Okay. I’ll see you.”

I feel tickles on my belly as I make my way inside the bar. Jason gives me an innocent smile as Marie looks at me as if I was the one deciding whether she should go to prison or not. I offer her my hand across the table and she holds it as her bottom lip tremble. I know she’s sorry and God knows sometimes I say things I don’t mean too. It would be very hypocritical of me not to let it go now.

I see Olivia smiling on the phone and give my friends a questioningly look but they shake their head. Jason stands up from the table and tells us he’s leaving. I’ve already fought with Marie tonight and quite frankly I don’t feel like fighting him about the same thing again but silently we all know he’s going because David doesn’t like it when we party until morning. I give him a hug though as he says goodbye.

“Whaaaat?” Ollie pouts. “You’re leaving? What’s this? Where are the party animals I used to know and love? Mario’s on his way!”

I spit my drink. Marie’s eyes set on mine. We’re both horrified.

As soon as Jason leaves Marie comes back with two more drinks, a peace offer she says, but I know she just wanted to see her waiter again. I appreciate the drink though. I had enough thinking tonight and I want to let it all go. Getting drunk doesn’t solve anything. Alcohol would make her shut up too.

“When did this happen?” I interrogate Olivia.

She’s been making all these questions to me and she hadn’t told us this bomb!

“He’s my tutor…” She shrugs. “So the other day we had a cup of coffee while we went on about my clinical case and…” She smiles. “He’s funny.”

“And?”

“And… We started talking.”

“And how does he have your phone number?”

“I gave it to him.”

I raise my brows. If she’s gonna make us ask every little piece of information… We will.

“Why?”

“Because I have to catch up on the practices I missed when I went to France to visit my mamie.”

Marie and I look at each other with mouths agape before we both look at her.

“And you’re going to catch up on that now?” Marie asks.

Olivia rolls her eyes and grins as she waves at someone at the door. Marie and I turn our heads and my breath catches on my throat when my eyes meet the green.

Harry’s grinning as he walks towards us. Marie’s foot keeps kicking me under the high table but my eyes don’t leave his. I don’t think I could look away if I tried. Memories of last night play in my mind like a movie and I wonder if they play on his too. I woke up on his bed this morning for crying out loud.

“Hi.” He greets us.

“Hi.” Marie offers him her little hand and he shakes it amused.

“Hi.” I smile and his green eyes set on my lips.

If I had any doubts… He’s definitely thinking about last night too.

“Hi, Mario.” I give him another smile and he smiles back.

“Hi, Indie. How are you?”

He’s grinning like a kid in Christmas and he looks so much younger than he normally does at the hospital. I almost want to aww at him but I won’t. Oh, Ollie, please don’t hurt him. He looks like a teddy bear.

“This is my cousin Tommy.”

Mario introduces the third guy that came with them and he sits down next to Marie. The perfect sync tells me they’ve talked before they got here. Marie laughs at something Tommy says and I roll my eyes. She really needs a shag like Ollie says.

Ollie and Mario disappear to order drinks for all of them and Harry simply stands next to me with a big smile. I don’t know how I feel about him not being even a little annoyed that I left without waking him even though I didn’t do it to annoy him but… It still bothers me a little.

“Let me guess” I tell him “A glass of water for you.”

He throws his head and laughs.

“I actually drink Sprite when I go out.”

“Sprite?” I chuckle. “I’ve never met anyone who drinks just Sprite. I mean anyone over six years old.”

He chuckles.

“Well, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.” He offers me his hand and I shake it. “I drink just Sprite when I go out and I normally say goodbye to people I fuck before I leave.”

Ouch. I narrow my eyes at him but don’t say anything and as if on cue, Olivia and Mario appear with his Sprite and Mario’s and Tommy’s drink. I look away from him and pay attention to Tommy as he tells Marie about his life but the entire time I can feel Harry’s eyes on me.

I notice women look at him too but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead he looks at me. He knows he’s annoying me. I wonder if he’s so used to women staring and trying to get with him that his brain doesn’t even see it anymore like it does with our noses.

“Is there something on my face?”

He shakes his head and that stupid smile stays.

“But it’s hard for me not to see you naked on my mind.”

My face heats up immediately and horrified I look at both my friends but they’re both busy chatting up the Italian cousins. He leans closer to my body so he can whisper in my ear.

“And remember how you taste” my breathing trembles “and how you smell” he inhales my parfum and hums in appreciation and I feel my fingers tightening around my drink “and how you feel, so tight and wet and warm” his fingers wrap around a strand of my hair and he glides them down until the tip before he rests it on my back.

“Why me?”

As I turn my neck to face him, I hear him suck in a breath at our proximity. I play it cool but my mouth goes dry too, especially when I see I have that effect on him too.

“Why you what?”

“Why do you insist on me?”

“So pretty with your lips red.”

I sigh and look away from him. If he’s not going to answer my questions then I won’t give him the time of the day.

“I don’t know.” He confesses next to me.

I turn my neck again and stare into his green eyes searching for any sign of lying but all I find is sincerity and confusion? Is he as confused as I am?

“Don’t lie.”

I hear him puffing through his nose and watch him. His jaw clenches.

“I told you I don’t lie.” He reminds me. “I really don’t know, Indie. I don’t know why I can’t get you out of my head but I can’t and I want to fuck you all the time.” He shrugs.

I remember what he said about always saying what’s going through his mind and after that, I believe him.  I feel my mouth going dry and I want him to fuck me too. I’m afraid this man can read my mind because I don’t know why but I know he knows that too. Maybe I can read his mind too or maybe I’m as obvious as he is.

“Come home with me.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I still have some questions to ask him and I want to stop thinking again. I think last night was the first time I stopped torturing myself in three years and I want to feel like that again.

I guess it’s strange that it doesn’t feel weird to me to walk next to him towards his car or that we said our goodbye to my friends as if it was normal that we left together and it’s also strange that I like the way people look at us down the street. He doesn’t walk too close to me or touches me at all and I reckon he might be as scared that someone from the hospital would see us together as I am. My phone vibrates and Rio’s name appears on the screen.

“Hi, Blue.” My brother’s deep voice greets me.

Everyone in my family has always called me by my middle name. I only started being Indie when I met Dylan.

“Hi there. Going home already?”

“Yeah, the guys wanted to go clubbing but since we have mum’s meeting tomorrow morning I thought it smarter to go home.” He chuckles.

“Yeah.” I chuckle too.

“Are you coming?”

“No, not yet.”

“Are you with Jason and the girls?”

“Yeah.” I lie.

“Cool. Don’t come home alone. Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

“Sure, Rio. Thank you.”

“That’s okay. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

“Who’s Rio?” Harry asks as soon as I hang up the phone.

If he wants to know about my family I’ll answer his questions. I don’t mind talking about my family. Other things... Well, that’s another story. 

“Rio’s my brother.”

He nods. I’m surprised when he doesn’t ask anything further but he seems awfully quiet. Just ten minutes ago he was teasing me and he seemed to be ready to fuck me against that very same table and now he seems to be deep in thought. I don’t know why but I don’t like seeing him like this. I like the carefree, smiley Harry who doesn’t seem to have a worry in the world.

“Is everything alright?”

It’s the first time he looks at me like that. His green eyes seem dull and I feel like I just touched something that I shouldn’t. His gaze makes me shiver. He sighs and looks ahead and simply shakes his head.

Once again his sincerity surprises me. I’m gonna have to start believing that he does not lie. Out of nowhere, because I don’t like seeing him like that, I reach for his hand and hold it in mine and he eyes our intertwined hands together before he removes his as if mine burnt. What burns then are my cheeks. Why did I do that?

I am beyond embarrassed and I’m glad he isn’t making any comments because the last thing I want right now is to talk about it. If he were to say something, I’d thank him for removing his hand from mine. It still stings.

Lustful imagines fill my mind as we make our way inside his apartment and my eyes fix on the same wall he had me pressed against less than 24 hours ago. My mouth goes dry just by thinking about it and all I want is for him to take me like he did the night before. I turn to look at him and my eyes must speak for me because without wasting another minute he kisses me against the door.

He still has his keys on his hand, the one that’s resting on my waist, until he lets them fall and I hear the jingling sound against the floor and then his hand snakes under my denim jacket and he places his palm on my back pulling me to him and pressing my chest against his.

His lips are soft and tender and he tastes sweet and minty. I enjoy the way he knows how to use his mouth, his kisses having a direct line with my belly, that flips and roars and sends electricity to the rest of my body; and my fingers find a home on his hair as I gently tug at his soft strands. His tongue licks my lips before he rolls it over mine and we start a wet battle I don’t mind losing.

Holding my body close to his with one hand on my back, he takes my jacket off with the other, letting it fall to the ground. On the silence of his apartment, I hear the fabric when it hits the floor and forms a blue denim mound, and I hear our mouths and our breaths mixing together.

Without saying a word or stopping our kiss, he walks along the grey hall and guides me backwards towards the bathroom inside his bedroom and only once inside he breaks the kiss and turns my body around, pressing my back against his chest.

The walls are pearl grey but this time it’s a grey tile with horizontal stripes that remind me of the blunt tips of those mountain rocks where you can see the layers that build the mountain. The sink is part of a white marble top that stands below a big mirror where I can see his hands caressing the skin of my bare arms before one hand presses against my belly through my dress and up to my chest where he cups one of my breasts and squeezes the flesh. I moan and rest the back of my head on his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to kiss, suck and nibble on the skin of my neck. I watch on the mirror his right hand grabbing the hem of my dress over my right thigh and lifting it up until he exposes my hip.

Delicately his large hands grab the hem of my dress and carefully lifts it up until he takes it off me and then his wandering hands caress the skin of my front and massage my breasts. His hot breath on my shoulder raises goosebumps and ignites my desire for him.

“You’re so soft.” He whispers on my ear before he presses a single kiss against my pulse. “And so warm.”

He stops touching me and it’s like he leaves me naked all over again. I tilt my neck so I can see him and he captures my lips with his and dives his tongue inside my mouth. I moan and press my bum against his groin and I can’t control my arousal when I feel his excitement against my hot skin. I feel his fingers moving against my back as he unbuttons his shirt and I focus on the noises. His breathing on my ear, the soft fabric falling down his arms, his zipper going down…

He stops my hands when I try to unclasp my bra and I still see him through the mirror unclasping it himself and placing all my garments together on the marble top. I am not even aware of my own reflection since Harry’s steals all my attention and doesn’t let me see anything else. His body is athletic and tall and his skin is pale and inked and I want to run my tongue across all of him and kiss every corner of his body. Leaving my undies on, his large hands caress my legs as he kneels down and playfully bites the flesh of my ass as he takes off my shoes.

I think my mouth is so dry I couldn’t speak if I wanted to but there’s nothing to say anyway. There’s something about this silence between us as if we were accustomed to each other that keeps me quiet. Finally he snakes both his hands under the hem of my panties on either side of my hips and caresses down my legs taking my underwear down with his hands. When we are both fully naked, he gently pushes me so I walk inside the shower and he closes the screen behind us.

There’s no sign of the playful Harry, neither of the filthy Harry I got to know last night. Instead he looks at me as if I was the most precious thing on the world and I feel my legs turning into jelly under his worshipping stare. Despite his calm, his length rests against his belly stiff, tight and shinny and my mouth waters. I wonder if he’d let me wrap my mouth around him if I asked but I’m afraid of doing so. He doesn’t seem to mind my curious staring as he approaches me and corners me against the wall. His hand snakes behind me and he turns on the water that falls on top of us and get us soaked in seconds.

My eyes are closed when his hot mouth gapes against mine before he fully kisses me and his hands fall to my ass, grabbing my flesh as he presses me against his hard on. I thank God he’s holding me for otherwise I think my legs would have brought me down already.

Stamping wet kisses everywhere his lips land, he turns my body slowly so that my back is pressed against his front once again and I moan out loud when I feel his fingertips tickling the insides of my thighs. My mouth parts at the touch of his two middle fingers intruding ever so delicately and his worked up breathing against my cheek sends my chest into a frenzy.

My left hand caresses the skin on his arm as his wrist moves back and forth and his fingers curl deliciously inside me and my other hand searches for his hair and caress his scalp.

“You’re so beautiful, Indie” He presses a kiss against my shoulder “Do you like it?”

“Yes.” My voice is all but a whisper but he doesn’t press it.

His fingers make me lightheaded but have me dying for more so I press my hips against his and moan when I feel his hot, stiff length against the low of my back. He grunts and his fingers fasten making me lose my mind completely.

“Harry” I moan, swallowing the water that falls on my mouth from the shower in an attempt to hydrate my throat. “I want you.”

“I’m right here.” He whispers.

“I want you inside.”

I bend my neck so my eyes look into his because I’ve found he’s very good at reading them and I want him to see them beg, in case he didn’t have enough with the desperation of my voice.

“Fuck, Indie. I don’t… I don’t have a condom.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I turn my body around and bring his mouth to mine with my hands on his neck. Our lips meet and battle and Harry’s merciless mouth attacks mine before his tongue soothes every red blood patch. I feel my lungs closing on me at the anticipation of having him bare and having him release white hot cum inside my cunt so that it drops out and stains my inner thighs but then his words resound on my head and I pull back.

“Are you-” On a sane moment, I stop the question before I ask.

Of course he’s having sex with other people.

“I always wear a condom.” He cups my face and presses a sweet kiss against my lips. “But I can make you cum with my fingers and have you afterwards.”

I nod my head and with that he takes me back to the place where I’m nothing but what he touches.

I still have trouble breathing when we come out of the shower. He doesn’t stop amazing me, the way he treats me and touches me as if I was made out of glass. I wonder if he touches every woman like that and I ignore the feeling on my throat. He’s staring at me. Please, don’t, don’t look at me like that. I feel very exposed, standing completely naked in his shower as his eyes investigate every part of my body.

He grabs a fresh towel from the cupboard underneath the sink and my lips part when instead of giving it to me or using it to dry himself, he hides his two hands underneath the towel and presses them against my skin in a calming, almost hypnotic ritual. He’s quiet and his expression is serious but calm. I think the troubled Harry is gone. I indulge in the way he softly presses the towel instead of rubbing it as if he was going to hurt my skin if he didn’t act so delicately. He’s kneeling in front of me as he dries my thighs and my belly and watching him I forget my exposure to him. He presses a kiss on my hipbone and then stands up and kisses my lips and being fully dried, I’ve never felt wetter.

I grab the towel from his hands and do the exact same thing he did to me but to his body and I feel lucky he lets me. My hair is wet against my back contrasting my dry mouth and I moisten my lips with every inch of his skin I carefully dry. His skin is tight and soft but thick and firm as it covers his lean muscles. Sometimes I let my fingers rest against his warm skin. I guess it’s my own timid version of the kisses he pressed against mine. When I look up at him, his green eyes look at me, seemingly confused.

I hate that he does that. He allows himself to do all these things with me, like staring at me as if he’s never seen a woman before or kiss me as if he meant it but he never lets me reciprocates. He takes his hand away when I hold it and now looks at me like that. I stand tall and leave the towel next to my clothes on the sink and when I’m about to walk away his long fingers wrap around my wrist and turn me around.

I watch him intertwined our fingers with the hand he has taken away before on his sudden mutism and he just stares at our intertwined hands as his thumb caresses my skin before he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles. I don’t know why, but I take it as a silent apology and taking his hand to my lips, I kiss it on silent forgiveness. He's still rock hard and I don’t know how he can stand there so seemingly impassive when all his blood is on that one precious part of his body. In one of his mood changes, he shifts from calm, soft Harry to the passionate, wild one and he pins me against the wall before his mouth devours mine. His teeth nibble on my bottom lip and make me moan. I’m so ready for him I’m scared of it.

Suddenly he removes his body from mine and I feel the cold his void left as he kneels in front of the sink and opens the cupboard. His absence lets me see my reflection on the mirror. I almost don’t recognize myself. My hair is humid and disheveled. Some strands frame my rosy cheeks and my chest is flushed as it moves up and down on a laborious breathing. As if I wanted to make sure that woman is me, I bring my mouth to my lips and watch her do the same. They feel warm against my mouth and they’re red blood.

When Harry stands tall, he turns his neck and looks at the mirror too and his eyes darken when he realizes I was watching myself.

“You look ravishing.”

“Then ravish me.”

I hear myself whisper and wait for him against the wall. I’ve never seen anyone putting on a condom faster and then I am levitating, mentally and physically, for Harry holds my waist and lifts me up so my feet aren’t touching the ground. As if I have done this before, my legs wrap around his waist as if my body knows what to do even when my head doesn’t. Just like last night and like I did in the shower, I let myself go and I feel that invisible deadweight I always carry on my chest lift and leave me. I feel light as a feather during those seconds before he plunges into my depths breaching every barrier of my intimacy but I welcome his intrusion as we both sigh at the feeling.

I feel like I’m dancing upon that fine line between pain and pleasure for I feel so full and the pressure takes every thought I’ve ever had away and his hips are unforgiving as he pushes in and out of me. I try to sustain my body weight, hands pushing off his shoulders and I want to ask him if I’m too heavy or if he’s okay but a whisper of his name is all I can muster among whimpers and soft pants.

We’re not even five feet away from his bed, a big, soft, comfortable bed where we could have a banquet of one another like we had the night before but it’s precisely the urgency, the animalistic, desperate need that’s sending me to the edge faster than it ever has. His ruthless hips lift my body against the tile every time he thrusts and my bare back slides down the wall every time he removes my hold rolling out of me but when my nails cling onto his shoulders and I’m afraid I’m gonna fall, he pushes in again and the whole ritual begins. The adrenaline runs through my veins at the feeling of free falling but his hands and thighs sooth me with the security of his hold. He’s taking me high but he won’t let me fall.

His grunts and groans hunt me like a heavenly song and I try to keep my ears opened so I can record his sounds and replay them when I’m not with him but it’s hard to pay attention to anything different from that desirable spot only he’s reached as he hits it again and again and again and again. I miss him every time he pulls out but it’s only for a second before he’s pushing in again.

His hands move from my hips to the back of my thighs and in an instant of panic, thinking he’s about to put me down, I clench my thighs around him tighter and he curses under his breath. I watch him as his thrusts become faster and he can’t barely get his length out but his vulnerable grunts and the way he looks, flushed and out of his mind, are enough for me. His forehead falls on mine and his hot breath hits my cheeks while he grins.

“Sorry.” He pecks my cheek. “I would have lasted longer if you hadn’t done that.” He’s smiling.

“I thought you were going to put me down.” I pout.

My hands snake from his shoulders to his hair and he chuckles before he kisses my neck.

“I was going to. I was going to take you to bed and give myself a second so I could make you cum first but when you tightened your thighs around me…” He tilts his head. “Fuck.”

“Sorry.” I smirk naughtily and he chuckles.

“You should be.” He kisses me as he rolls out and finally puts me down leaving a sad feeling of emptiness between my legs. “You should be illegal.” He spanks my ass playfully and walks out of the bathroom.

I grin like a fool and take this minute of solitude to take in the way I feel and relish on it. I bring my hand to my lower lips and blush when I notice how wet I am. I close the door of the bathroom to pee and clean myself. When I open the door, I don’t find Harry on his bed but I see a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt and even a pair of boxers folded on the mattress. His voice calls my name from outside his room.

“Are you hungry?” He must be in the kitchen.

I’m not really hungry but if he has something to eat, I might nibble on it. I doubt but when I’m about to expose myself to a new possible embarrassment he saves me. He’s leaning against the doorframe of his room in a pair of olive-green sweatpants. How can someone look so good in sweatpants?

“Those are for you.” He smiles. “But you can grab anything else from my wardrobe too.”

“No, these are fine. Thank you.”

Seeing him half dressed suddenly makes me uncomfortably aware of my own nudity so I put on his t-shirt without even looking at it.

“I was going to say you could also walk around naked” he grins smugly as I walk towards him “but that was before I knew you looked so sexy on my clothes.”

I rest the low of my back on his kitchen island and let my eyes wander across the white cupboards. The counter is white marble too and so is the island where my hips rest. The distribution seems weird to me, the sink is on the counter in front of me and behind that it’s his room and on the kitchen island he’s got the stove and under it the oven and some more cupboards. I guess it’s not so much of a kitchen island as it is an open kitchen.

I tilt my neck and see the living room and the views outside the glass windows. I imagine him cooking and looking through the window. He’s got a nice view of the city from there. He’s been watching me the entire time with a smile on his face.

“What’s on your mind?”

“You want the explicit version?”

He washes his hands on the sink but tils his neck so he can see me.

“Please.”

“I was thinking about sitting you up on that counter and making you cum on my mouth.”

My eyes widen and my face and neck heats up. This man is going to be the death of me. He’s insatiable.

“So what do you feel like having? I have fruit and bread and-” he opens the cabinets and makes a list of the food he has as if he had not just said that and for a second I think I have imagined it.

“So you’re not going to?”

I think I did say that out loud because he turns his head and looks at me with raised eyebrows.

“You want me to?”

“No,” Yes “it’s just that you said you were thinking about it and then offer me fruit?”

I must be hilarious to him because he throws his head back and laughs out loud.

“If I fucked you every time I think about it, you couldn’t walk.”

I lick my lips. He makes my mouth dry all the time. What is he doing to me? I’m gonna end up like a sex addict like him. I enter his game. If he can say these things and then act as if nothing happened so can I.

“Can I have a glass of milk?”

“You want milk?”

I roll my eyes when I see the way he’s grinning and I swat his chest playfully. He laughs and apologizes before he pours a glass of milk and hands it to me and then he grabs a clementine and peels it as his eyes fix on me.

“When you asked me why I didn’t drink” He says “what did you originally want to ask me?”

I frown. Seriously how does he know what I think all the time? How can he know I wanted to ask him something else? Am I that obvious?

“I already got my answer.” I shrug. “I wanted to ask you why you had chosen to supervise my essay.”

He nods. I drink my milk. That makes me think about what Marie said. I’m afraid of what he’ll answer if I ask him with how many students he’s been. I don’t want him to ruin what just happened by telling me this is something he’s done before and making me feel like just another one of his conquests even though that’s what I am.

“Why do you think I chose you?” His green eyes are narrowed as he studies my expression.

I don’t know how to answer that without degrading myself to the floor. Why did he even ask me? Why would he want to humiliate me like that? I think he can sense my discomfort.

“Indie?” He presses.

“Well it’s clear, isn’t it?”

“I chose you because you’re intelligent and you pay attention and you always ask interesting questions. It’s clear that you like what you do and I thought your essay would be interesting to read.”

My lips seal. I wasn’t expecting that. I feel stupid for thinking otherwise and I feel bad and sexist for having thought that way about myself. Sometimes we don’t need anyone to put ourselves down.

“You thought I had chosen you for your pretty face?”

“I didn’t think you had chosen me for my pretty face.”

I know there are lots of girls prettier than me in my class alone. I thought he had chosen me because he had this smug obsession of wanting the only thing he couldn’t have or something like that but I don’t think I’m pretty enough for him out of all people to choose me for my pretty face.

I yawn. I must look terrible because I’m not wearing any make up since our shower. Dear Lord I’m not wearing any make up since our shower! I must have looked like a panda bear under the water. That ruins the whole imagine. He wasn’t standing there with a beautiful girl under the shower but with a moaning wet panda.

“Well good” peacemaker Harry walks towards me with a beautiful smile and takes the now empty glass from my hand and leaves it on the counter next to me before he pecks my lips “because, despite your pretty face, I chose you for what’s in here” his fingertip delicately knocks on my temple and I smile. “You’re pretty tired, aren’t you?”

I yawn again and he chuckles. My hands cling onto his shoulders when I feel his arm under my knees and he lifts me up and carries me bridal style towards his room. I chuckle and hold onto his chest.

“I can walk, you know?”

“I know.” He grins.

We both chuckle as he walks towards his room and then he carefully places me on his bed. My eyes set on the picture on his bedside table again as he gets in bed next to me.

“Who are they?” I ask and yawn.

“Tired but still nosy.” He jokes.

He lifts his head so he can have a look at the photo even if he doesn’t need to because it’s his picture. He should know what he has next to his bed.

“They’re my mum and my sister.”

I hum. My eyes are already closed when I feel his kiss on my temple.

“Harry”

“Yeah?”

“Did I look like a raccoon on the shower?”

I smile with my eyes closed as he laughs out loud. I wish I could see him because I’ve never heard him laughing that hard but Morpheus is very distracting. What I hear next I don’t know if he said or I dreamt it because as he answers my question it’s like he’s speaking my own thoughts.

“It’s because you stop my mind.” He whispers.

[livinginsunnyhell]

Ask game for fanfic writers! ⌨️🖊📓📝

1. What fandoms do you write for?

2. What pairings do you write for?

3. What is your most popular fanfic?

4. Do you write original stories as well?

5. What fanfic of yours should everyone have read?

6. What is a fandom you will never write for?

7. What is a ship you will never write for?

8. Archive of Our Own, FanFiction.net, Wattpad, Tumblr, etc. which platform do you prefer?

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

10. How do you stay motivated to finish what you’ve started?

11. What’s your longest fanfic?

12. Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

13. What is your planning process?

14. What have others criticized about your fanfic?

15. OCs or no OCs?

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

17. Do you use/follow advice from writing blogs/posts?

18. What is your favorite writing prompt?

19. Dead or overused tropes?

20. Can we get a list of all of your current available fanfics?

21. What’s your shortest fanfic?

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

23. Long chapters or short chapters?

24. How many WIPs (work-in-progress) do you’ve got?

25. How many WIPs will you finish?

26. First-person-narrative or third-person-narrative?

27. Do you take requests?

28. I will name you three things (drunk Ian — shared bachelor party — Gallavich): write a paragraph or two!

29. What’s more difficult? Fanfics or original work?

30. What writing software do you use?

31. Do you use beta/sensitivity readers?

32. Past or present tense?

33. Do friends and family know that you write fanfics?

34. How did you find the magical world of fanfics?

35. What is your favorite review?

36. Did you ever delete a work of yours?

37. Did your work ever get plagiarized?

38. Do you partake in any fanfic/writing events? (Big bangs, zines, NaNoWriMo, etc?)

39. Collaborations or working solo?

40. Do you have any rituals before uploading a fic?

41. What is something you don’t like about your writing?

42. Rudest review?

43. Guilty pleasure tropes and scenarios?

44. Does fanart of your fanfic exist?

45. Do fanfics of your fanfic exist?

46. Few long essay reviews or many short reviews?

47. What fanfic of yours is truly underrated?

48. What is your favorite sentence that you’ve used in a fanfic?

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

50. Can we get a teaser for an upcoming chapter?

(Don't feel obligated to answer. Thought if you're into these kinda things, that'd be a nice ask. ;))

Oh this is so nice!! Thanks for sending this @annansmith

I chose a few of them to do. 

1. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently, I’m writing for Shameless (Gallavich) but I’ve written for:

Veronica Mars (LoVe), Veep (Amy/Dan), Arrow (Oliver/Felicity), Once Upon A Time (Hook/Emma), The Old Guard (Joe/Nicky), That 70′s show (Hyde/Jackie), Sons of Anarchy (Tara/Jax), Vampire Diaries (Klaroline), Hart of Dixie (Zoe/Wade), Gilmore Girls (Rory/Jess), X-men (Rogue/Pyro), One Tree Hill (Haley/Nathan), and a few others.

2. What pairings do you write for?

Now I write Gallavich. 

But I’d say my top ones I love writing for now (my fanfiction writing has spanned about 14 years) are Dan/Amy, Veronica/Logan, Klaus/Caroline, Mickey/Ian.

3. What is your most popular fanfic?

My most popular fic on Ao3 is The Course of True Love (Arrow) and on FF Of Bloodshed, Babies, and Epic LoVe (Veronica Mars)

4. Do you write original stories as well?

Yes, I do. I’m working on a book, well, two books. But it’s going very slowly. The first is a memoir of my travels from around the world and the second is a vampire urban fantasy one. We’ll see how it goes, but I’d like to finish them by next year and see if I can get them published, but it’s hard so who knows. 

10. How do you stay motivated to finish what you’ve started?

Well, recently I’ve really been trying to finish everything I write. I have a lot of WIPs from years and years ago and even within the the last year, so this answer is pretty new. Basically, I focus on one fic at a time and write a little every day to stay motivated. Now, I try to update once a week on a certain day. I think comments/reviews and kudos and people being genuinely encouraging helps though. It’s also what’s gotten me considering finishing my older fics.

11. What’s your longest fanfic?

Of Bloodshed, Babies, and Epic Love (over 165k)

13. What is your planning process?

Now, it’s different. I have a doc of ideas and I wait to see which one I can’t seem to shake. Then I plan out each chapter with a few sentences and I have a list of things I want to focus on in the story. Usually, each story now has a kind of theme to it and a main focus. I sometimes will just want to write a certain situation/scene/focus and the story is born from there. But what really helps is writing down chapter 1, 2, etc. and having a sentence or two for what I want to happen. It doesn’t always go according to plan, but I never get writers block or forget what happened in previous chapters now.

16. Do you use sentence starters, writing prompts and/or fandom headcanons for your fanfics?

Probably a mixture of fandom (or my personal) headcanons. I don’t start with prompts unless it’s a challenge or sentence starters. Usually, I have a scene I already want to write in my head and then I sit down and write it.

17. Do you use/follow advice from writing blogs/posts?

Yes, I’ve read several books on writing. My undergrad was creative writing too, so I learned a lot there. I also follow writing instagram accounts which are helpful. I take everything I learn with a grain of salt and I see what is best for me. The best advice I heard recently was short sentences and so now I’m experimenting with that.

20. Can we get a list of all of your current available fanfics?

There’s a lot from many different fandoms. I used to be on FF.net as Psyc0gurl0 and now I’m ProstheticLoVe on a03. I like writing on ao3 better cause it’s easier and I love the tagging process. Plus the gallavich fandom on there is unreal. So to think about going back to ff.net to finish my WIPs seems like such a process now. 

Currently though, I’m writing an Ian’s POV 5 chapter fic called Chocolate. It’s not out yet, but it’ll focus on Ian from 1x06 to 1x09 or so and how his feelings for Mickey change and evolve. It’s the second part to a series called Chocolate and Cigarettes. Mickey’s POV was Cigarettes.

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

Yes, I listen while writing but I need silence while editing. I have a Love (lol) playlist. It’s basically all the love songs that remind me of couples I ship. So for example, The Acid is in there a lot because their music is great, but also Basic Instinct is so haunting. Overall, I like all music except country, so sometimes I’ll listen to my larger playlists while writing. 

23. Long chapters or short chapters?

So this has changed over the years. Initially, I wrote short chapters, then when I got back into fanfiction while writing klaroline they got a lot longer and now it’s just basically where the chapter has a natural ending. So the chapters are between 4 - 10k words depending. I try to get over 4k though. Right now, once I’m done with my current fic, I really want to write something over 100k.

24. How many WIPs (work-in-progress) do you’ve got?

A lot...none in Shameless though. Well, I guess my current one, but I haven’t posted that yet. I’d say I probs have about 10 WIPs spanning different fandoms. I know. But my goal for 2021 is to pick two and finish them. 

25. How many WIPs will you finish?

Not all of them. Some of them are from years and years ago. But I’d like to finish the ones that I still get reviews on. So there’s a SOAs fic I want to finish cause that fandom is so lovely. I also want to finish a klaroline one cause that was fun to write. And my Amy/Dan ones I’d like to finish. I would like to finish my Veronica Mars ones (I have two) but they need a lot more attention, so when people message me about them I tell them the planned ending.

28. I will name you three things (drunk Ian — shared bachelor party — Gallavich): write a paragraph or two!

“Fuck, Mickey, I probably shouldn’t have had the third Hot Toddy,” Ian grimaced as the world around him spun. 

Mickey laughed at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Ian wanted to think his future husband just wanted to pull him closer, but he had a feeling it was to steady him.

“Probably should’ve cut you off earlier,” Mickey said tugging Ian closer. 

Ian wobbled and plopped down on the back steps of the porch. Mickey followed suit a moment letter and they both looked out toward the backyard where the Gallaghers, Balls, and a few of the Milkovich cousins were alternatively huddling around a fire, drinking, and dancing.

“I blame Lip for making us have this stupid shared bachelor party in the first place,” Ian grumbled.

Mickey kissed him on the forehead as Ian lay his head on his shoulder. “It’s Sandy’s fault too.”

Ian hmmed in response and Mickey knew he was going to fall asleep any moment. He ran his hand up and down Ian’s arm and watched as Debbie bounced over to them.

“Jesus, you aren’t even married yet and you two are like an old married couple. Are you going to come dance or what?” she whined.

Mickey looked down at Ian, whose eyes were already closed, and then back up to Debbie. She was watching them with knowing eyes.

“We’ll dance at the wedding. Go grab Lip, I need his help to get Sleeping Beauty upstairs.”

Debbie turned to go get her eldest brother and Mickey looked back down at Ian. In his sleep, he nuzzled Mickey’s shoulder, breathed deeply, and a gentle smile appeared there. 

3 more days and they’d officially be husbands. 

34. How did you find the magical world of fanfics?

I was about 10 and my cousin used to write a buffy the vampire slayer zine. There was a link to a site called buffyworld.com or something like that. And I found fanfic that way. There was a link on the site to ff.net and that’s how I stumbled across that. I stayed there for many many years until my second time in the veronica mars fandom around 2014 when I was lead to a03 and then I’ve been there ever since. On and off, my writing has fluctuated through the years based on my personal life.

49. Where do you draw inspiration from?

Everywhere! omg. It’s insane. Gallavich I love writing for. There’s so many different facets to them, but truly everywhere I find inspiration. I have a whole doc of gallavich ideas that have stemmed from other fanfics, headcanons from me and other people, rewatching episodes, what’s going to happen in s11, cute moments i’d like to see happen, holidays, and just general life. I saw a pic of WW2 vets who were in a long term relationship and i was like mickey and ian! another idea is born.  

[willowistic22]

Before I start my main topic on this post, I don’t want y’all to get the wrong idea. I LOVE Sprace as much as the next person. The whole Manhattan and Brooklyn are in love stuff has me wEAK. But lemme tell you abt another Manhattan and Brooklyn love that SOMEHOW goes unspoken of

Dare I say,,,,

IKESHOT 

Sprace is an amazing ship and I love them but Ikeshot is actually an awesome ship and I encourage everyone to give it a try if you haven’t. And if you have and still don’t vibe with it then that’s ok. My hugest respect to y’all who have given the time to try and vibe with it but just genuinely can’t because ik we can’t all like the same things. 

Now for the ones who wants to vibe with it... let’s talk business

*rolls up my non existence sleeves*

Brooklyn boys are tough aight. We’ve all established it. So Hotshot is no exception in the whole tough dude club if that even exists but if it doesn’t let’s just pretend it does :) Doesn’t matter what your headcanon his rank as a Brooklyn newsies. Second in command after Spot? The tough bodyguard dude? Just Spot’s bestie in general whilst sellin’ papes’? Or just a random newsies in the bunch of the Brooklyn kids but is like tol and buff af? (i’m 99.52% that we’ve agreed Hotshot is hella tall and buff) Or your normal newsies hc are mostly modern ones like me. He’s still Hotshot that we all know and love. 

My headcanon is that he’s a little stiff and uptight with the whole ‘i’m tough as hell move outta the way or i kick you where the sun shines!’. So that’s him in general. But much like what most ppls headcanons for Spot, Hotshot too has a soft spot in him that not many ppl see. 

And then along came Ike. 

I feel like most ppl will headcanon the twins as chaotic bros. And y’know what? I vibe with it! Although I headcanon Ike is slightly more sensible and responsible than Mike even though he’s like younger than Mike by 13 minutes or 12 I forgot which number I decided lol I’ll go check later.

They cause a lot of trouble. pretty chill at taking life like mostly taking everything as a joke. a skinny bean pole. no one thinks the two are tough and well, they never want to be seen as tough dudes so it’s ok. But can deck a person if someone messes with their brother (loving brothers are my shit I will hold that love till the day I die). 

Idk how but Ike accidentally met Hotshot. Hotshot was not so fond to meet Ike the first time around, tough dude (^TM) thing y’know. Ike having the annoying genes in him is being, you guessed it, annoying. But they managed to hold a conversation. Ike was wHIPPED. He went back to Mike and was like ‘yoooooooo that dude is hot aS FUCK BRO’ and Mike just goes ‘.... yeah ok?’. Hotshot was surprised Ike was not at all intimidated by him and was impressed that his annoying aura kinda like... entertained him? intrigued him? made him kinda angry and want to punch him in the face? maybe all three of them at once. But whatever it is Hotshot is FEELINGS THINGS. 

Fast forward to the future, the do the hanging out thing. Doesn’t matter how you think it goes they just hang out. One thing let to another and now they make out regularly and are exclusive to each other. It’s cute. Like Sprace, Ikeshot has adorable height differences. Even if Ike is on his toes to kiss him, Hotshot still needs to bend down to reach his lips because Ike head only reaches Hotshot’s chest or sumn along the lines. (can you tell how unprepared i am in writing this post lmaooo) 

Hotshot is still stiff and still being the tough guy everyone all knows. But he won’t push away Ike if he ever comes running to him for a hug, and it’s fucking cute considering his face full on smack on his chest while his hand wraps around Hotshot’s hips. He looks up with the stupidest grin ever and Hothsot can’t help but to smile at him plus hug him back. Y’know those kinds of hugs where the smol one wraps around the tol ones hips and looks up at them, palcing their chin on tol’s chest while smiling and then tol one tries to wrap around smol’s shoulder because it’s the only body part they can reach with the hugging position they’re in? Yeah, that kinda hugs. Bonus: Hotshot leans down to grab Ike’s thighs and lifts him up of the ground. Ike wraps his legs around Hotshot while he’s hoisted up to the air with his hands around Hotshot’s neck and then they kiss and I go AJHFGAHSFGHKSF UKCNHKSRGCKEGR UKHF JUST THINKING ABT IT AKJLFHKJLABFKJ NJKHCJKLSH UH UKAEHCMLKUAH ULIWYRI

with this all set up there’s a potential for protective brother Mike and I love him with all my hearts. He’s no longer intimidated (or probably never was in the first place) knowing his brother got Hotshot wrapped around his hands. So one time when Hotshot arrives looking for Ike but found the other dude, Mike goes up to him and threatens him to not hurt Ike or Mike will hUNT HIM DOWN. Ike slaps Mike for even saying that to Hotshot and they go one their marry way. 

In short: Sprace is cool but Ikeshot can be just as cool if ppl just wants to give it a try to vibe with it. I gave it a shot, and there’s no going back for me so it’s better if I drag other’s in this Ikeshot hole that I’ve dug for myself. 

I wrote this essay bcs: 

Ikeshot needs more content and recognition 

I am kinda piss i didn’t even get one note on my ikeshot fic but that’st he first angst fic i’ve ever written and maybe it’s better that way bcs yeah i kinda cringe at it too oop- (is this me wanting attention? probably. do you need to project it? no really but donations are appreciated:))))))

I love all romantic and platonic relationship newsies fics but I need to see more FAMILY FICS (and i don’t just mean found family. I love that trope but I need more of Mike sharing stories to their friends how Ike frequently pees his pants when he was five and then Ike took revenge by telling everyone how Mike really got that huge scar on his hand. Or them talking shit about their cousins. Or Mike just smacking Ike’s face outta nowhere for no reason at all, he just feels like hitting Ike for some reason bcs that’s what real brothers do) 

Anyways I hope you like this essay that i’ve used as a procrastinating mechanism from my writers block (the irony of me saying that I got writers block and can’t write the next chapter of my newsies au or continue finishing the next modern newsies fic i need to post only to go to tumblr to write this essay abt Ikeshot being awesome) 

hopefully i can finish my newest modern newsies fic tonight so i can post it tomorrow so bye bye!

Edit:

OMG WAT THERE IS ONE NOTE ON THAT IKESHOT FIC I TAKE IT BACK. THANK YOU RANDOM DUDE ON TUMBLR FOR LIKING IT AND MAKING ME FEEL VALID BCS I WAS REALLY SAD WHEN IVE WORKED HARD ON IT AND IT TURNS OUT IT DIDNT GOT ENOUGH ATTENTION LIKE MY OTHERS IM SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO FORGET YOU UGHH I FEEL SO BAD AND FEEL LIKE A HUGE BITCH PLS FORGIVE MEEEE

I’d tag you but I’m a huge pussy ://

[boomerang109]

*looks at my fic, which hasn’t been updated in 4 weeks (other than edits because i Didn’t Like It) and i’ve now driven myself into a horrible writers block immediately after outlining the entire thing possibly because i have outlined the entire thing and i forgot where i was going with this but am i sending it anyway yes i am please god tell me to write someone threw my motivation out the window and it’s all muddy now and i don wanna touch it oh god what even is that metaphor see what i mean about the writers block anyway ily cant wait for the next chapter of wwda get it out when you can don’t stress ily bye*

don’t tell me why my brain is like “yes we can answer this but we’ll combust if we look at any messages.” there’s no logic but i’ll get around to your messages and everyone else’s there. (to everyone waiting for like two sentence answers who’s seeing me post paragraphs, i’m sorry. the braincell does not function)

the way that i’m in YES! i can help! mode even tho i myself am lowkey in writer’s block which means i’m not qualified at all ajfhjghfgfdjghj

first of all: outlines are just to guide you. they stress me the fuck out too (which is why i’ve refused to put my wwda outline to paper, despite the fact that this means the timeline is absolutely fucked. like it’s in my brain, but if i put it on paper i’ll try to stick to it and i’ll freak out--see my month long break when i had an “outline” for chapter four). you can have goals for chapters (ie, lay groundwork for foreshadowing/character development/etc) but overall? just let yourself sit in front of the computer and vibe. don’t think about where you’re going, just think about where you are. 

“i don wanna touch it oh god what even is that metaphor see what i mean about the writers block“ this? this is you judging yourself while you write and i don’t want to see ANY of that shit. writing is a process and editing is a thing, but when you’re doing your first draft you just gotta word vomit. sorry that’s a gross phrase but that’s what i do. and honestly? most of wwda is barely pieced together word vomit. idek why anyone likes it, but they do. and even if they didn’t--nothing would exist if you don’t put something to paper to start with.

apparently this advice doesn’t apply to everyone (i still can’t process @hella1975 ‘s writing technique like what the actual fuck) but for me one of the big things with writer’s block is starting where i want to start and just writing whatever fucking scenes i want. idk if that makes sense so i’ll put it into the context of wwda. so when i was still in my fucking intensive class i wasn’t writing cause i didn’t have time except for like a few minutes before bed at like 3am. now at 3am i’m not gonna write suki and azula being rivals cause i can barely handle that dynamic when i’m Focused. but at 3am i’m sad as fuck and i generally like to peruse the ao3 dadkoda tag, so instead i just wrote my own dadkoda scenes for much later (although they’re not actually that far off) in the fic. are they gonna need some editing cause i was just like ‘maximum angst even tho this scene is supposed to be about healing’? yes. yes i was. now the other day on the plane (when i really should’ve been working on an essay i didn’t end up finishing) i was like okay, i need to work on something actually relevant to chapter 12. but i’ve worked myself into a corner with my azula & iroh scene so i didn’t want to deal with that bullshit on two hours of sleep and also being called “miss” and other female terms in the airport got me all in the gender feels so i was like oh! i’ll write some more enby aang! and i wrote this like gorgeous passage or two on aang’s gender feels. and yeah, it probably makes no sense for aang cause i wrote it from a pov that was too much me and not enough aang, but the point still remains. i skipped to a part of the chapter that was important to me. and then i realized that aang could be having these thoughts in the context of another scene which led to . . . and there i was with somewhat of a complete thought for the chapter. 

also along those lines, if you’re having writer’s block you gotta look at that block. what’s wrong? is there something wrong with the story up to this point? is there something you don’t like about where you’re going? is there something you really want to write that you’re not letting yourself write? 

cause the thing is, we’re not professional authors. we’re fic writers. we do this for fun cause we love the characters. so if you’re not loving the characters for some reason, you shouldn’t force yourself. take the pressure off yourself. this fandom is so supportive, they’re not going to rush you (literally look at the fact that even as you say you’re excited for wwda you also tell me not to stress) and remember to apply that to yourself. it’s okay to need a break, whether that’s cause the vibes are off or cause you’re tired or any other reason. 

i tried to write a bunch of different thoughts cause i know different things work for different people, i hope at least one of these ideas help. i literally haven’t looked at wwda even though i really want to be writing (and i still haven’t been reading fic). sometimes our brains just don’t cooperate. and yeah, i could sit here and yell at myself and go “what the fuck boom you’ve been looking forward to writing for literal weeks and now you have time and you’re doing other stuff what is wrong with you” and sometimes it’s really tempting to give into that. but the truth is i don’t usually do as much work as i did the past few weeks on as little sleep as i got so i’m really fucking tired. and so i’m giving myself a break. and i’m just not emotionally prepared to read fic cause--oh oops i hadn’t admitted to myself until right this second that i was avoiding fic cause i’m suppressing my feelings that kinda hurt wtf this wasn’t supposed to become therapy hour wtf. but as dumb as all that feels to put, i’m not gonna delete it cause i’m sure you’re gonna read it and say something along the lines of “it’s okay to rest and wait to read/write if that’s what you need!” cause you’re a nice person. so say those things to yourself IF that’s what you need. but if you’ve been sitting in bed for weeks and don’t have any reason not to write, maybe it’s time to word vomit. or if you have a problem with your story maybe you should look at that. just, do whatever works for you but be gentle with yourself. give yourself the same kindness you give others. whenever i’m not sure how to handle something (or how to treat myself ig), i’ll ask myself how i would give advice to a friend. so maybe try that. look at yourself, your writing process, your fic like it’s a friend’s and be like hmm. what would i recommend my friend do? and if weird rambley advice that probably displays my many years of therapy is helpful to you, then know my inbox (and my messages that i swear i’ll answer some day) are always open. i’m not gonna read this over cause i know if i do i’ll be too embarrassed to post so i’m just hoping it’s helpful. much love <3

[ddaenggtan]

are you gonna do anything for kookie's birthday?? i know a lot of writers are and i was hoping you might be one of them :)

I don’t have anything, tbh, because I’ve been mostly working on my fic for the Love Yourself Collab (which you should def check out bc I know at least one or two have posted theirs and I’m so hype to read them!!) and the sequel to mechanic!joon from the poll a while back. 

I will give you this crumb though, for everyone who read Chasing Butterflies and thoroughly enjoyed it the way I did. 

“I just don’t get it,” Nayun says as she straps her pads on. Jisoo doesn’t react and Rose looks like she might actually kick your asses if you aren’t on the court in ten seconds. “What do you not get? Like what about this situation is confusing?” You ask. “I’m whipped for Jungkook, we been knew, and he’s apparently through some great act of mercy also whipped for me, and he’s bringing every single one of his nerd friends to the match today. Which isn’t at all nerve-wracking. Whatsoever.”

Jisoo rolls her eyes and tugs harder at your laces. She always does your laces, she’s the only one with the upper body strength to tie the things well. You think she might actually be moonlighting as a secret BDSM dominatrix just based on the way she handles them. 

“No, I don’t get why you’re nervous. He’s seen you play before, didn’t he tell you that he tries to come to as many home games as possible? And his friends know nothing about the sport, they won’t know if you fuck it up.”

“Which you won’t,” Rose says from the door. "Because you’re good at this.”

“And because you’ll kill me if I fuck it up.” She doesn’t respond verbally, but the look she sends you radiates ‘yeah and what about it’ energy. “Look, I’m just...scared of disappointing his friends. He talks me up all the time apparently, and if they get bored or are unimpressed then...”

“What, you think he’s gonna break up with you?” Jisoo’s tone is teasing, but when she looks up to see the insecuirty on your face, she softens. “You put on a cosplay for him, and he’s liked you for almost as long as you’ve liked him. I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”  

You just nod, tugging at the laces as she finishes tying them. Realistically, you know she’s right. It’s been a couple months since that night in your apartment, and things have only gotten better. He still comes to the coffee-shop to hang out with his dweeb friends, even if he does spend the time waiting for them talking to you now. He still watches his dumbass anime, thoroughly enjoying your flat-screen to do so, even if he gets consistently distracted by the way you lay in his lap. You talk about your practices that he knows a fair bit about because of some anime, he tells you about his nerd shit that you don’t understand but enjoy hearing about anyway, you help him with his essays and he helps you with Organic Chem, and you even buy him little cupcakes every time he gets a new comment on his fanfic. Things between you are good.

You have no reason to worry, you decide as you push out of the locker rooms and head to the court to get warmups started. You spot him, sitting with his group of friends beside where Jimin and Taehyung sit with the rest of the guys’ team to watch your game. Your boyfriend - your whole chest gets warms as you think it, and you let yourself bask in it for a minute because it took three fucking years to get - looks adorable today; big, round glasses, with that soft beanie and a softer looking shirt. It’s got some kind of weird pumpkin(?) on it, with a point and sharp teeth and the back has a scythe and you vaguely recognize it. You’re pretty sure he watched it at your apartment a few days ago, but you also had his dick in your mouth, so you weren’t paying much attention to anything else. 

You wave back when he waves at you, big and excited and cute, and you’re once again hit with the urge to cover him in kisses while also maybe dangling him off a fifty-story building. His nose scrunches in that way you love and you ignore the way it has your stomach flipping. 

Rose pelts a ball at you and you catch it on sheer instinct. 

“Are you actually going to warm up or are you gonna be entirely useless today?” She asks. You glare at her and throw the ball back in response. If you didn’t have firsthand experience with how good she is, you’d wish she was your opponent so you could wipe the smirk off her face. 

Warmups go well. The team you’re supposed to be playing is good, supposedly pretty well-matched to your own, and you’re excited to see if it holds true. They don’t look especially intimidating. The biggest threat seems to be their captain - which is true for your team as well, Rose is terrifying - and there are a couple girls milling around in jackets and over-shirts. One in particular catches your notice; as you look, you realize it’s because Jungkook has the same jacket. Black, with a big-ass Old-English-styled L on the back of it, and some kind of writing you can’t see on the front and can’t remember from Jungkook’s, small and in the corner where logos usually go. 

You make a note to ask which anime that’s from, just to know in the future, and return to your warmups. 

The game itself is...well, it’s challenging. The other teams is as well-practiced as yours, they’re balanced against you pretty well, and all of you are enjoying the competition almost as much as you’re frustrated that you aren’t getting anywhere. Their captain - a shorter girl with pretty eyes and dimples - is an absolute beast and Rose looks simultaneously enraged and turned on, and Weeb Girl has been blocking you at every turn. She volleys every serve you give, manages to block every spike without fail, and you can respect that she’s good at this, but you’re also really fucking frustrated. 

It’s the end of the second set and both teams are ready for the ten minute break. You’re in the process of trying to drown yourself in your Gatorade bottle and really considering using the stuff to summon some kind of demon just so you can win the game, go home, stuff yourself with cheap burgers, and then fuck your boyfriend because you could tell from his face at one point that he was getting worked up watching you play, but before you can you catch sight of your friends whispering quietly to themselves. 

It screams ‘hey we’re doing something really shady and don’t want you to know, maybe you should immediately storm over and find out what’s going on’ so you do exactly that. 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘should we tell her?’“ You demand, keeping your voice as hushed as theirs. Nayun looks repentant and sorry, Jisoo actually literally makes the emoji face with the teeth, and Rose just purses her lips and gestures over her shoulder. 

You really don’t know what you expect to see, but Jungkook hanging over the side of the bleachers to talk to Weeb Girl isn’t it. His eyes are crinkled at the corners like they do when he’s excited, his glasses are half-down his nose and in danger of falling off because you aren’t there to push them back up like he enjoys, and he’s gesturing happily to Weeb Girl. And she....she looks just as excited, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers and batting her lashes up at him as she says something else that makes him laugh. You can’t realistically hear it, it’s too crowded and noisy, but you feel it when he laughs, every time. 

“We should call the police, she’s gonna kill her,” Jisoo says morbidly from behind you. 

“No,” You respond, scoffing. Your eyes don’t draw away from where your boyfriend is talking to Weeb Girl. “No, I’m not. She can flirt all she wants, it’s fine. Yeah, she’s blocked me at every turn this game, yeah she’s kinda really pretty, and she definitely has the ass for those shorts, and she’s wearing weeb stuff that she’s probably interested in and can talk to him about, but it’s fine. I know Jungkook, he’s not gonna do anything. He’s a good guy.” And you mean it when you say it. If there’s one thing that you’re sure of in your relationship that isn’t Jungkook knowing random weeb stats, it’s that he’s loyal. You know it, deep in your bones. 

You watch as Weeb Girl steps forward, cutting off whatever Jungkook’s saying to push his glasses up his nose, giggling as she does. Your fingers twitch because yes, that is your job, not hers, but it’s fine. It’s absolutely fine. Until her captain calls her back and she giggles again and waves, and Jungkook turns to sit and you see it. He’s got that pretty blush on his face, the one that tints his cheeks and makes him duck his head, the one you love so much but especially when you’re riding him and can get him to break out of the dominant persona he loves and turn pink with your words. 

And you know that your boyfriend is loyal and sweet and wonderful, can tell by the way he searches for you and melts into a smile like the ice cream you’re pretty sure you forgot to put back in your freezer before you had to rush out to get to this game. But pushing his glasses up is your job and that is your blush and you aren’t about to let some weeb queen take it from you. 

Rose looks pleased as you all take the court again. Jisoo looks convinced you’re gonna kill Weeb Girl, and you won’t lie; you’re definitely trying to see if you can will someone to set fire with only the power of your brain as you stare her down across the net. She looks entirely too pleased with herself and even dares to send a quick glance and a shy smile off at where you know Jungkook sits behind you, and you wish - not for the first time in your life - that you had Harry Potter powers and could just Crucio this fucker right now. 

Alas, you’re gonna have to settle for slamming a volleyball into her face. 

Nayun looks horrified at the sight, but you can tell Rose is holding back a smile even as the ref gives you a penalty that you willingly take. Weeb Girl looks pissed and also a little confused. Logically it’s not her fault that she chose to flirt with your weeb; and you can’t even fault her for it, because he’s gorgeous and sweet and perfect, but god damn what a day to do it. 

Throughout the rest of the third set, you’re basically unstoppable. You score three times on her, and you take a sick pleasure in the bruise that’s already forming under her eye. Her entire team looks confused, and you are too, because none of you are sure of where this sudden burst of skill and fury is coming from, but you’re determined to ride it out for as long as it lasts. 

When the game’s over, your entire team crowds you to celebrate. You’re a good player, you don’t have any allusions to that, but you’re also pretty much just reliably good. You’ve never played like that, not in your entire life, and you’re thriving with the knowledge that you even can. 

When they finally back up, you bolt before they can throw Gatorade on you, already climbing the stands. Jimin laughs as you shove him to the side, and you decide to feel guilty about the way he almost falls later, because right now you’re on a mission. You straddle the stand and fist one hand in Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him into a heated kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to return. In seconds you’re almost on his lap, one of his hands gripping your jaw so he lick into your mouth the way he likes while your free hand tangles in his hair. When you eventually pull back, he settles soft kisses along your jaw and you take great pride in looking straight at Weeb Girl. She doesn’t look mad, exactly; more resigned and slightly impressed, and you send her a wink that makes her roll her eyes. 

“Hey,” You whisper to Jungkook. He detaches himself from the mark he was determined to make behind your ear, and you revel in the blush on his face. It spreads across his face and along to the tips of his ears, and you want nothing more to than to make is spread further. “You wanna go put on some Haikyuu and break in your new mattress?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever left a game that fast in your life. 

[rvnclwrites]

Herbology Tutor (Talbott x Female MC)

A/N: Sorry I went on a hiatus for awhile. A combination of writer's block and a serious lack of free time has prevented me from writing, and I was pretty bummed after seeing Akkiarn's spoilers, which essentially confirm canon characters not being options for romance. Because of this and in honor of the latest side quest with Talbott, I decided to write a fic about him. Don't worry though, I will get back to Charlie x MC fics, as well as my current requests soon.

Word count: ~2100

"(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" (Y/N) said, her attention snapping from the blank piece of parchment in front of her to a disappointed looking Penny across the table. She rubbed her face, hoping to clear her foggy mind. "I'm really sorry, Penny. What were you saying?"

"That you need to get writing! This essay is due tomorrow, and you've never procrastinated like this before. I'm really worried about you."

(Y/N) forced a half-hearted smile, grateful for her friend's concern. "I'm okay. Go finish up your Potions project, I'll figure this out."

"Are you sure? I can explain the steps again if you want."

(Y/N) shook her head. If she hadn’t understood it the first two times, odds were a third wouldn’t be of much help either. "I really appreciate it, but I'll be fine. Promise."

Penny stared at her for a long moment before resigning. "Okay, but please come get me if you need anything."

As the Hufflepuff headed out of the library, (Y/N) grabbed her quill and began scribbling, intent on formulating at least a few meaningful sentences. It didn't take long though for her brain to stop working again. She angrily flipped through the pages of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World, feeling a lump rise in the back of her throat. Why was this so hard for her? She had outstanding marks in all of her subjects, she should be able to figure it out by herself.

"You okay?"

(Y/N) jumped, startled by the unexpected voice nearby, and she was surprised to find a familiar pair of brown eyes peering down at her. "Oh, Talbott," (Y/N) said, placing a hand over her racing chest. How was he always so quiet? "Sorry, you scared me."

Without a word, he slid into the seat next to hers and as he continued to be silent, (Y/N) realized he had asked her a question.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just trying to understand Self-Fertilising Shrubs." She rubbed her temples again and looked up to the ceiling, trying hard to ignore the burning sensation traveling up her throat and threatening to reach her eyes. She was not going to cry. (Y/N) never cried.

"Want some help?" He offered, scooting his chair closer to hers.

(Y/N)'s gaze trailed over to meet Talbott's. The pair had been friends for a few weeks now, playing Gobstones together and drinking Butterbeer on the weekends, but (Y/N) had always initiated it. This was the first time he was offering to help her.

Something warmed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach as she tried to decipher the look on Talbott's face. As always, he was a mystery; so tricky to read and it drove (Y/N) nuts. "You don't have to," (Y/N) said, biting her bottom lip. In all honesty, she really did want Talbott's help, but this was so out of character for him and she didn't want to put him out.

The corner of his lips quirked up in a subtle smile. "I owe you for helping me find my necklace."

An unrecognisable feeling fizzed in the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach. Talbott had only smiled a handful of times in front of her and when he did, it always made her inexplicably happy. "Thanks," (Y/N) said, returning the smile. "I couldn't focus during Professor Sprout's lecture and now I'm completely lost. My Self-Fertilising Shrub wasn't too fond of me."

Talbott laughed and flipped through one of the books in front of them, stopping near the back. "Here," he said, pointing to a paragraph near the bottom. "This section better describes their purpose."

(Y/N) frowned, looking down at the book. "Why isn't this page listed in the index then?"

Talbott shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't write the book."

(Y/N) elbowed him in the shoulder before skimming the section. Within fifteen minutes, Talbott had helped her write three lengthy paragraphs on Self-Fertilising Shrubs and the uses of their fertiliser.

"This says to leave around two meters between each plant. Why do you need to plant them so far apart?" (Y/N) asked, glancing up from her textbook.

"They'll eat each other, and most other plants for that matter."

(Y/N) blinked at him. "Oh." She flipped to the next page and frowned. "This says nothing about the feeding or watering process other than they need a lot of it. How in the bloody hell is that supposed to help me?"

Fighting back another smile, Talbott stood up and gestured for (Y/N) to follow him. "Come on, I'll show you how to feed it."

"Are you sure?" (Y/N) asked, not wanting to take up any more of Talbott's time if he didn't want to.

Instead of answering, Talbott's fingers closed around (Y/N)'s wrist and he tugged her to her feet and toward the door, sending a trail of goosebumps down her arm.

Once they reached the Greenhouse, (Y/N) located her shrub from earlier and apprehensively began following Talbott's instructions.

"I can't believe it eats that," she said, scrunching her nose in disgust at the unmistakable pile of animal flesh on the tray. Using the levitation spell, (Y/N) thankfully managed to feed the plant without having to touch any of it. "Anyone who says plants are romantic is insane. I don't think we've ever planted a single attractive flower. No, instead we get to risk losing an arm to this thing."

"Hey, be nice," Talbott said before turning to the shrub. "She didn't mean that, buddy."

(Y/N) bit back a giggle while she filled up the watering can and noticed Talbott tossing seeds into a soil-filled pot. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't worry about me, you've got a shrub to water," he said while patting down the soil inside the dainty pot.

"Are you sure it won't bite me?" (Y/N) asked, her gloved hands trembling as she extended the watering can toward the plant. She may not have been afraid of most things, but (Y/N) had enough common sense to fear anything labeled as "flesh-eating".

"Yes, I'm sure. That's why we fed it first."

Trusting her friend, (Y/N) cautiously poured water onto the soil (not over top of the shrub, per Talbott's instructions) and watched as the plant didn't protest like it had earlier. Instead, it wiggled in approval before standing taller. "I did it!" (Y/N) said, grinning wider than she had after acing her last Potions exam. She dropped the watering can onto the table and without thinking pulled Talbott into a tight hug. "Thank you so much." Talbott's body stiffened against hers, and (Y/N) pulled back quickly, hoping she didn't make him uncomfortable. "Sorry," she said, her face flushing.

Talbott rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, don't mention it. Seriously, don't- I'd never tutor anyone else but you and don't want people thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) laughed and felt that nagging sensation return to her stomach. She wanted to ask what made her special enough to warrant his attention but didn't want to make him start questioning it. "Deal."

(Y/N) began gathering her books from the floor and was caught off guard when Talbott asked, "So, why were you distracted in class?"

Straightening, (Y/N) felt that lump return to the back of her throat. "What?"

"You said you lost focus in class and that's not like you," he said, his attention still trained on the pot in front of him while he sprinkled the watering can over it. "Did something happen?"

(Y/N) dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand, hoping to force away the emotion fighting to creep its way out again. She wanted to lie. She wanted to keep telling everyone she was just having a bad day and move on. But this was Talbott, and not only was he smart enough to see through any of her lies, he had also been trusting and vulnerable enough to open up to (Y/N) despite how hard it was for him. 

"I realized that today is-" (Y/N) took in a breath and let it out slowly. "Today is my brother's birthday."

Talbott froze before lowering the watering can back to the table and turning toward (Y/N). "Oh."

(Y/N) nodded, blinking fast. "I just- I've felt terrible all day because I didn't even remember until second period." She looked down at the books in her hand, hating the heavy ache in her chest. It usually came and went, easily dismissable, but today it just seemed to continue swelling like a balloon.

"I used to spend holidays locked in my room. I didn't want to do anything but sleep and be alone," Talbott admitted, causing (Y/N) to peer up at him despite her misty eyes. "My extended family thought I should go see my parents’ graves or share happy memories, but I would always refuse. I didn't want to be happy without them, it made me feel guilty."

(Y/N) nodded, quickly wiping her face with her sleeve as a tear leaked out.

"It took some time, but now I know that's stupid. Your brother would want you to be happy. You can't spend every second worrying about where he is or what's happened to him- that wouldn't help anyone."

(Y/N) breathed in a deep breath of fresh air, feeling the knot in her chest loosen a little at Talbott's words.

"Just like I can't spend my entire life forcing myself to be miserable. That won't bring my parents back. If anything, that's letting You Know Who win."

Despite her sniffling, (Y/N) forced a smile at Talbott, grateful more than ever that he was her friend. "Thank you- for everything." (Y/N) peered up at him innocently and his eyebrows raised in response. "Can I hug you again?"

Talbott laughed, shaking his head before bracing himself. "I guess."

With that, (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Talbott’s waist and rested her head against his chest. "Thanks," she whispered, smiling to herself as the gap in her heart fill just a little bit.

At first Talbott was rigid again, but as she stayed there, (Y/N) felt his posture slowly relax against her and, for a brief moment in time, she could have sworn he even hugged her back.

"Tell anyone about this and you're dead," he muttered into her ear, causing an unfamiliar nerve to prickle at the back of her neck and send a tingle down her spine.

(Y/N) squeezed her friend one last time in response before pulling back, feeling for the first time that day that everything was going to be okay. "Thanks again for being my tutor. I really appreciate it."

"Stop thanking me," he groaned. "That's what friends are for, right?"

(Y/N) beamed at him but before she could respond, Talbott placed the small pot he had been fiddling with into her free hand. (Y/N) blinked at it, staring down at the single flower in front of her.

"There's a pretty flower for you. It's called a Moly."

(Y/N) just continued to stare down at the black stemmed, white petal flower, utterly speechless. Did Talbott Winger just give her a flower?

"It can counteract enchantments if you eat it."

(Y/N) gasped and pulled the pot defensively close. "No one is touching this flower, let alone eating it. You green thumbs are weirdos." She brushed the soft petals gently with her thumb. "How did you make it so fast?"

"I used to help my mom plant them all the time. They're really valuable to Healers, it's no big deal."

"It is to me." (Y/N) looked down at her flower admiringly. "So, how do I not kill it?"

Talbott laughed. "All it needs is water a couple times a week."

"Low maintenance, I like it. You know what, this is better than a friendship bracelet."

Talbott groaned again and started toward the door. "You're ridiculous."

"What? I finally have proof of our friendship," (Y/N) said, grinning.

"You know I'll deny it if anyone asks."

"I know." She glanced down at the flower again, unable to stop the flutters in her stomach. "Hey Talbott, would you show me how to plant this sometime?"

Talbott paused for a minute before briefly glancing over his shoulder at her and nodding. "Sure."

(Y/N)'s stomach flipped and she held the plant tight to her chest. She could definitely get used to having this new Herbology tutor.

[agent-yolk-writes]

Year in Writing - 2020

Well...I really don’t know where to start. One year ago today I was pretty optimistic that I’d get a lot more done and even get at least one person on my Patreon, but (gestures to 2020 in general) shit happens I guess. 

Somehow in this messy year I graduated college and managed to get a PT job while the world. In between all that, I somehow had the time and energy to write. So, like last time, here’s a summary of what I can remember writing in 2020 as the final hours dwindle down to zero.

Okay, where to begin?

I guess we can go with zines since that can be dealt and done with. I moderated a lot this year, and will probably do some more modding next year once the pre-order period for the ones I’m currently on have passed. I contributed less than I mod since I’m guaranteed to be rejected every time. It sucks that there’s hardly any zines that even include writing in the first place. The perks of being a mod that, if writing is available, you can bypass the application process. That’s what happened with the Slime Rancher OC Zine and my piece Trials of a Rookie Rancher which features my OC from Summer Essay, Riida. It was a financial flop, but atleast it was a charity zine anyways. 

I’ve applied to another charity zine about Pokemon called Helping Hand, which I forgot to apply as a mod to. I got accepted as a pinch hitter and, surprisingly, I was called to action as someone had to drop. As of writing this, it’s still in the production phase so I can’t tell you much. I meant to post a preview of it, but the formatting of which the mods wanted the writers to post scares me. I’ll probably post it on ao3 when I get the go ahead.

I only updated Friends Like You and Us with only one chapter back in May, but lately I’ve made excellent progress on the next chapter since action and fighting isn’t really my forte and yet here I am, getting sucked into fandoms that are action-oriented. I think watching ITSV again before it got pulled from Netflix helped.

Of course, it can’t be a year unless I write an FGO fic. In fact, I somehow managed to write two! Part one of a two-shot, and a crossover one-shot! The two-shot is Night SURFING which is a continuation/sequel of my Asterios fic called Ebb and Flow of the Sea back in 2018. I have to give a special shoutout to my friend Pallan Minerva, author of Saga of Shirou’s Summons and irl friend, who enabled me to write more cute shit for the minotaur. The only reason why it’s not completed yet is, surprise surprise, the second part has an action/fight scene and as you probably know by now, I’m not very good at writing those. Especially since it involves two huge monsters...which is ironic considering I’m a big fan of tokusatsu.It’ll figure itself out one day.

The other FGO fic is Udon for the Drifting Warrior, which is a crossover fic with Isekai Shokudou or Restaurant in Another World. It came to me during one of those days during the pandemic where I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t go outside and do shit. In a sleep deprived haze, I decided to pick up Shokudou again, got hungry in the process, and thought “This would be the perfect setting for Musashi.”. Few months prior, I told Pallan that I wanted to do something with Musashi since she’s my waifu and he suggested an udon date. Well, I got the udon part down at least. I haven’t finished the anime yet, but I have bought the first book of the light novel. I’m hoping to at least do a Shokudou crossover with Dorohedoro but other than that? Who knows. 

And finally, I have fallen in and out of fandoms throughout 2020...and there’s one that I’ve fallen hard for. It’s Obey Me, the latest addition to the Shall We Date? otome mobile game franchise. I think I tried another SWD game years ago but never got into it because reasons. But Obey Me definitely hits all my buttons...which is just hot demon guys plus the obligatory human and angel. I wrote A Sleep-In Demonstration for funsies when I was planning out like at least two longer-form stories. Satan and Belphie aren’t my top faves if you would believe it. It’s Lucifer and Diavolo bc of course it would be

That...seems to be it on my end. While my quantity is less than desirable, I can only hope I improved in quality. My job can be pretty draining, and I know I don’t want to do it long term, so I hope juggling to find a better opportunity alongside writing fics will be easy for me in 2021.

I hope I can update Summer Essay too in the new year. I’ve done tremendous progress for the latest chapter and I would like to think it’s almost done. The mental block that’s preventing me from finishing this fic already is going to catch these hands when I find it. I hope I can gush about it in next year’s YiW as well.

And that’s it for real. Thank you so much for reading this. If you’ve been sticking around for some time, I thank you for your patience and support. We may not talk, and only one person drops something in my inbox once in a blue moon. It gets very lonely on this blog, but I know you people are out there. Knowing that you’re reading my fic as well as liking and reblogging it so other people can see it works just fine. Thank you, and I hope the new year treats you kindly. 

See you in 2021!

[sometimesrosy]

Hello Rosy! First of all, Merry Xmas or happy holidays! Answer me only when you can :) I’m the one who sent the ask about being stuck in my story, who suggested reading again to fall in love with the story all over again. I will take your advice, but with the holidays, I haven’t yet. However... I started reading a book this morning that is a totally different genre, and it got my ideas flowing. I was wondering what’s your opinion on writing two stories at the same time? +

+ I was thinking maybe it could help me get my writing flowing & I wouldn’t lose practice as well. Maybe it’ll give me ideas. But at the same time I’m “scared” I’ll lose the will to write both, that I won’t finish a single one. I’m a Gemini dominant, with air all over my chart (I don’t know if you like astrology lol), which means I lose focus very easily. It’s happened my whole life! I thought I could finally finish something, I was so excited! +

+ But I somehow lost it. I want to finish it, I was enjoying the story so much. So I’m really not sure if starting another story is a good idea. Sighs.

+++

Okay, so I am an advocate for reading outside of your genre to get your creative juices flowing. I do that all the time, with my story in the back of my mind as I read, and can often get inspired to get back to work as I read someone else’s narrative.

I have also found that working on more than one story DOES work for me, as long as I don’t expend all my energy on one leaving none for the other.

But like that narrative break while reading, sometimes writing a different story breaks me out of block.

I’ve got this whole theory of writer’s block which says that it’s actually messages from your subconscious telling you that something needs attention in your story. So if you don’t actively stop and pay attention to what is blocking you, you get STUCK.

Of course with the way brains work, sometimes you don’t have to consciously “figure out” what’s wrong, but you can do something else and let your subconscious work on it. What that means is that getting stuck on a story is not a bug of the writing process, it’s not WRONG, it’s actually a feature of how we write. NOT writing, even not being able to write, is part of how we write and we have to take time off of writing words in order to allow our brains room to grow the story.

I say this even as a person who writes a 50k novel in 18 days. It’s not JUST about moving forward and putting words on the page, it’s also about stopping and processing and allowing the story to sink into you so you know how to keep going.

NOT writing is part of it. Staring out the window, reading, going for a walk, envisioning characters, talking about it, taking a shower, drawing or journaling, sleeping...while that’s happening, a part of your brain is still working on your story... as long as you give it room to. If you have anxiety over not writing, it’s harder to allow the brain to process. If you spend all your energy thinking how you suck because you’re stuck or how you SHOULD be doing other things, then you might not have room in your brain to process story.

The idea of writing two different stories can be a way to hack that non-writing processing time. Because you are actively writing something else while passively letting your brain mull over the original story.

I remember doing this a couple years ago when I was both writing my original novel and doing fanfic. The fanfic was the easier one and when I got stuck on my novel, I’d switch over and let it flow with the fanfic.  When the fanfic got stuck, I’d go back to the novel. I never got a serious writers block because I never stopped writing. And yet, I still gave the story time to breathe.

Granted, I was writing fewer words in the novel than I did when I was only working on it, but overall, my wordcount went up by a lot. 

I don’t actually do that all the time, work on two stories at a time, but I believe that period of time had me writing almost every single day for the whole year, which was awesome for me, because I often go through weeks or months after a project where I can’t write at all. 

But you can also do other writing besides fiction. You can write essays, metas or blogs. You can write poetry. Maybe a play or songs? Short stories instead of novels? Or switching genre. One can be scifi, one can be romance. I do wonder if writing two novels of the same genre might bleed together, but I mean, if it works does it matter?

Would writing two novels at the same time work for you? Maybe it would. Maybe it’s too much. Maybe you’ll get distracted and lose focus. IDK. You really have to find the way that YOUR brain and your writing process works. Maybe by switching between novels, you never lose that writing momentum that has you going off to do other things. Or maybe you end up preferring one book over the other. 

Sometimes I need to be doing more than one thing at a time... i’m not sure it’s the best way, but like, I used to paint while I watched tv. It seems counterintuitive, to spread yourself thin like that, but the tv took the top part of my brain, allowing the lower part to paint, and I wouldn’t get distracted or exhausted. “Top part” and “Lower part” are technical brain terms.* However, I’d never be able to do that with writing, because hearing words on tv will interfere with me writing words on the page. This is also part of why I don’t really listen to music while writing and if I do it’s instrumentals. I know for certain that isn’t how other people write, so you have to find out what works for you and how you can hack your brain to get the stories onto the page.

There is no ONE way to write. There is only writing. And if you find a way of writing that works for you then that is how you write. And sometimes that process changes. There is no one way for YOU to write.  You just have to write and figure out what works for you and when that isn’t working, you try something else, or you switch it up, or you find a guideline, or set a timer or take a class, or read a book.

Whatever way it is, find your process, and get back to doing the writing that you love. 

*no they’re not.