#i accept your payment dear friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pinkrelish · 2 years

Text

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶There was an obvious implication as to why Eddie would invite you to ring in the New Year with him. Even his friends knew it, leaving you two alone at the countdown to 1986. Would tonight be the night he finally kissed you?✶

NSFW — mechanic!eddie, fluff, flirting, being dumb teenagers young adults, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 8/15 [wc: 8.1k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 8: Midnight Sparks

You nestled deeper into your coat, and jogged to the door of Bradley’s Big Buy, wincing from the glare of the gray clouds reflected on the windows. The forecast said it was supposed to be sunny today.

————

It started with a weekly phone call like any other. You were huddled on your bed, face turned away from your roommate’s prying gaze. She sat at her study desk, cranking the timer you both used to keep things civil.

Whatever. What did she care if the line was busy, anyway? It’s not like she had a new boyfriend to call her after she was dumped two weeks ago.

“They give you a few days off, don’t they?” Eddie probed with a persuasive inflection at the end of his sentence. “C’mon, it’s New Years. Why don’t you swing by and pay a visit to your dear ol’ pal, Eddie?”

He was smirking like a villain, wasn’t he? So smug, so carefree. Cracking a smile to where his top lip met his cheek dimple, showing off the mischievous gleam on his canines. It’s just the worst expression. Detestable.

“Swing by?” you repeated incredulously. “In what world is a trip to see your sorry ass in Indiana ‘swinging by’?”

“I know you don’t have plans for New Year’s–”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do you have plans?”

“..No,” you admitted.

You could picture him with irritating clarity. How his raised eyebrows fell into diabolical slants, eyes crinkled at the corners, stupid grin deepening once he caught you; how he shrugged and clapped his hands when he assumed a pitying, pompous tone after sucking his teeth, “Well, I guess that settles it, then! You’re coming here to spend New Year’s Eve with us. I’ll make the trip worth it, I promise. Tons of fireworks, hanging out with the guys, and hey, I’ll even throw in the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of a private show of your favorite band, Corroded Coffin, up close and personal.” He paused to grant you the space for one sigh, then he sweetened the deal. “I’ll tune up your car for you.”

“For free?”

He laughed. “Free, but I do accept gifts and favors as a form of payment, my dear.”

“As humble as ever, I see,” you said, rather than commit to more. It was bad enough he had you wrapped around his finger, speaking gently into the phone snug against his mouth, dragging his lips over the plastic, invoking the tender side of him when trying to convince you to come see him. Where a subconscious sadness smoothed the sharp edges of his teasing.

Of course you wanted to see him again.. However, the traditional way of ringing in the New Year sat like a weight on your chest. The same creeping anxiety of knowing he’d ask you to come to Hawkins again, and the same dread of knowing nothing would come of it.

Unless..

It was finally your turn to be noticed.

“Fine, you’ve worn me down. I’ll come. But I��m not happy about it.” You’ve made worst decisions in your life.

————

And that’s the story of how a boy persuaded you into coming back to the small town you had no intention of returning to without a good reason.

Eyes adjusting to the dingy grocery store, you scanned the short aisles for anyone you recognized, and were relieved to see the place was rather empty, aside from the owner doing a crossword puzzle at the counter. You grabbed a hand basket and perused the cold section at the back. Subsisting on convenient snacks and coffee since you left campus, you were more than ready for one of the ready-made sandwiches in the deli section, and any piece of fresh fruit or vegetable you could find.

Reading over the flavors of Gatorade in the drink cooler, you grabbed one, dropped it in the basket on the floor and stood up, arguing in your head about if you should order take-out to be delivered for the group tonight, or wait and see if someone like Jeff was considerate enough to think of that ahead of time. All of this left you vulnerable to the looming presence behind you, who was bending to speak over your shoulder.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

You spun so fast, the creep’s lips brushed the shell of your ear. His warm breath fanned your neck. Flashes of walking to your dorm alone at night had you springing into action before a second thought crossed your mind.

At the front of the store, the owner looked up from his newspaper, peering over his glasses at your nuisance.

“Whoa, there,” Eddie laughed, tracing the corner of his mouth with his tongue, doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement amidst his surprise. He made a motion like he was going to cup his hands over your fists to ease you out of your defensive position, then thought better of it. He posed with his arms up like he was surrendering.

Still considering punching him, you released a seething exhale of, “Jesus Christ, Eddie–!”

“I guess that answers if you’re a ‘fight’ or ‘flight’ response type of person.”

Refraining from greeting him, you went straight to asking the one question he deserved, “I’ve been here for all of three minutes, how is it you always know where to find me? And don’t,” –You emphasized– “Don’t tell me that you just do.”

“It’s my special talent,” he answered like the bastard he was.

You should’ve punched him.

Taking a tiny step away, Eddie averted his attention around the store for a few vain seconds, then gave up, returning to you. He chewed the inside of his cheek in spite of his abundant grin growing under the shy once-over you gave him. “Almost didn’t recognize you,” he said, more blatant in his observations. Raking his gaze over the length of your body. Deliberate, and tenacious. Taking his time to absorb you as you stood before him. Stopping at details you could only guess at. Devouring you openly. Fearlessly involving his fingers on your suede sleeve, dragging his fingertips down to the fluffy cuff and curling them inward, admiring the softness brushing over his knuckles. He wasn’t touching you, really. “A Penny Lane jacket and flared jeans? Were you invited to some retro costume party I don’t know about, or something?”

You couldn’t discern if his pink cheeks were because of the harsh wind outside, or something else. “I think some old lady died, and I got her wardrobe at the thrift store.” Riding the high of his flattery, you crossed your ankles and spun on the soles of your chunky boots, sweeping your hands down your clothing. “An entire outfit for less than twenty bucks.”

“It looks good on you.” He said it in that lower register. Where his voice cracked in and out. Quiet. More akin to the guys who hit on you.

You thanked him by doing the silly thing of putting your hands in your pockets. Swaying side to side. Not awkward at all, and definitely not trying to hide your smile.

Clearly not in here to grab groceries, he tipped his head towards his van outside, and asked, “I’m making a trip outside city limits for the good fireworks. Wanna come with?”

“I’m sorry.” You wanted to go. Just to sit next to him. To steal more time with him. Listen to music, hang out, fill in the blanks phone conversations couldn’t do justice. Hear his voice in person again. Say things that earned his rolodex of smiles, or laughs. Find ways to garner more compliments, more affection. Yet, your body ached in a severe way you couldn’t ignore. “I’ve been driving since about 3 this morning, and I’m kinda tired. Is it okay if I take a nap and meet you later?”

He screwed his eyes shut and faltered. Shook his head, and scrunched his face in a pained expression, speaking as if he was the one in the wrong for asking in the first place, “Of course! Yeah. Yeah, you’ve been driving all night. You deserve to relax. I didn’t mean to just–Yeah. Anyway, when were you leaving? You here for a few days?” he ended in a hopeful lilt.

It sucked letting him down. “Sorry, I’ve gotta leave pretty early tomorrow. I have two assignments due the first Friday after break, and it’s competition season, so lots of meets now; pretty much every other weekend starting the second week of January.”

He moved further away. Absently reading the labels on the bags of chips while he sorted through whatever disappointment he harbored. Tapping his knuckle on an end cap for an aisle, staying in his thoughts. Using the cold metal to rein in his feelings about your short time together.

“I’m sorry, Eddie..”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. He donned a happy persona. “That just means we’ll have to make the most of tonight, right?”

“Right.” You hated his fake turn in attitude. It’s not like you wanted this shitty reality, either. The ones in your head were much more preferable. Much more romantic. “We’ll make some good memories to last us until next time.”

Usually, Eddie was easy to read. He shared his emotions openly. However, when he looked at you like he did now–skimming his gaze from your eyebrows to your nose, scoping out the kindness of your glossy lips–you had to wonder what he was thinking, and if he was observing you with curiosity, or something sweeter. Please be sweeter.

“We will,” he promised. “We’ll go out with a bang, sweetheart.”

In a phenomenal execution of decorum, you did not, indeed, choke on your spit at his word choice.

~~~

The receipt with Eddie’s handwriting on the back waved between your fingers. You drove away from the corner unit of the Motel 6 with your windows rolled down, enjoying the sunshine. It almost didn’t feel like winter with how it warmed up while you laid in bed, replaying the scene of your best friend tilting his head to check out your tight fitting jeans when you bent over to pick your grocery basket off the floor.

Someone should’ve told him the door to the drink cooler was quite reflective.

Still, you had to question why he would bother giving you Gareth’s address when he could’ve simply told you it was the nicer subdivision on the north side of town you both ransacked during Halloween. From there, it was painfully obvious which house he was talking about.

Low-tuned sludgy riffs of doom metal called out to you from the main road. It was just Lloyd on bass and Jeff on guitar playing together while Eddie had the back doors of his van open, helping Gareth slide out sheets of plywood and stack them in the dead grass.

You pulled into the driveway and Eddie waved at you to park behind him.

“There she is,” he announced over the music. Interestingly, he dropped the pet names around his friends, but Gareth gave you two a sneaky glance, regardless. “Running me low on daylight after begging me to fix her car.”

Mouth agape, you filled your lungs to the fullest with an absolute dissertation’s amount of rebuttal, but your fortitude vanished. The bane of your existence eclipsed the sun.

Eddie folded his arms atop your open window, leaning onto your car door, kicking his hip out, regarding you down his broad nose.

Music faded out one strum at a time. The guys crowded the back of the garage, hooking up extension cords to Eddie’s power tools, and carried them to the saw horses they had set up, keeping themselves busy and at a distance.

Eddie’s hair fell over his shoulders. He provoked you in a softer voice, “What’s my payment for doing this kind gesture for you, hmm?” The tendons in his neck flexed as he hummed.

The smallest muscle in his cheek twitched the longer you schooled your face from reacting. Giving him nothing to work with, leaving him to guess if he was being annoying in the wrong way. Making him sweat under the heat of his innuendo.

If only he knew you’d be on your knees the split second he gave the command.

But, you remained strong in the face of temptations, and opened the door, shoving him back a few steps. “Have I ever told you I hate you?”

“Once or twice,” he said after feigning to think about it.

“And to answer you..” You kicked the door closed behind you, and drew yourself to your full height as if you were in front of suited up judges. Chin high, shoulders back. Taller in your boots. Meeting his eye easily. An intimidating strength to your intense demeanor. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Both a gift and a favor. His gift. His favor. His girl.

Eddie snorted. “How could I forget? Your presence is my greatest treasure.”

You tipped your cheek to your shoulder as you considered him. “I’m your greatest treasure?” His brashness deflated upon hearing you repeat it back at him. Your eyes narrowed wickedly while his widened. “I seem to remember you saying you’d take care of me if I came back.”

For a blissful beat, memories of that first phone call passed over his unfocused gaze. You, too, unlocked a few repressed images you swore you wouldn’t release when he was standing right in front of you; fully clothed, and very handsome.

Then, Eddie stuttered something, but there was no telling what, because Jeff started up the whirring circular saw with a smile of pure innocence. “Oh, did I interrupt you guys? My bad.”

You threw him a sardonic smile, and addressed your flustered mechanic. “Shall we?”

It seemed Eddie struggled to move past your tongue-in-cheek proposition. Either that, or something else had his mind scrambled. “Uh, y-yeah,” he stammered, tripping over his own feet, making finger guns at his van where he left his tool bag. “We should. Y’know, daylight.” You agreed and tossed him your keys.

Unbeknownst to either of you, Lloyd exchanged knowing looks with Jeff and Gareth, who both shook their heads and rolled their eyes.

~~~

Some favor this turned out to be.

“How long has it been making that sound?” Eddie asked from the driver’s seat, aghast.

You shrugged at the exposed engine cranking and churning out a sound not unlike a dead man’s cough. “I dunno. Maybe a month? No.. Two, or three?”

“Babe,” he groaned to himself, thumping his head on the headrest. He ran his hands over the leather steering wheel, wringing the vibrations under his palms, listening to the racket. Stewing over his knee-jerk reaction to shake you until you promised to maintain your only means of transportation which brought you to him today. What if it broke down and you were stranded in some seedy city where someone could take advantage of you?

Working his jaw, he turned off the car and unfolded himself from your cramped seat.

Inside the back of his van, he collected a few replacements for parts he could tell were worn, and put them near the edge. “Have you changed the air filters lately?” You blinked up at him. He added new ones to the pile and hopped down.

“Do I want to know when was the last time you got an oil change?”

You crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the car, keen to the way he went into his zone, moving with skill over the motor in a predetermined method–an order to his operations. “You changed it for my mom the summer before I left, didn’t you?” He paused with the dipstick in his hand, brown eyes pinning you with glints of mortification, and disbelief. “Eddie, I’m kidding..” He wiped it on the dirty rag balled in his fist and his expression foretold the scolding you were about to get. “I got it changed like a year ago.” More angry staring. “Maybe it was two years ago,” you amended.

He added another task to his mental list. “You’re sending me to an early grave.”

Gareth began sawing pieces of 2x4s after Jeff measured them. The noise covered your private moment with Eddie.

Angling your head under the popped hood, you gut-punched him with a poignant truth he despised about himself. “Joke about an early grave all you want, I think you like doing this stuff for me because it makes you feel needed. Now that I’m away at college, you can’t just come over and fix a leak in my roof, or patch up a hole in the drywall, or pick me up from work when I’m too tired to drive.” Your gaze settled on his frown. “I appreciate you fixing my car, but I don’t want it to come across like that’s the only reason I’m here. You don’t need to do these things for me to come see you. I’m here because I like being with you. You’re my best friend, Eddie.”

You're my best friend, Eddie.

He invoked every fiber of self-restraint woven into his musculature to not look at you. “Do you have a hair tie?”

“Sure.” You took one from your wrist and handed it to him. Adding to your previous point, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel needed–”

“What, did you smoke a joint and read your psychology textbook before coming here? Be a doll and hold this for me.” He slipped out of his jacket, and tossed it at you. From his periphery he watched you clutch it to your chest, and in that moment–when your fingers curled around the collar, and your arms embraced his armor like a hug–he decided enough was enough. Tonight was the night.

~~~

Crossing your legs at the ankle, you sat back against the car door. A fine vantage point for pretending you were observing the guy's build.. whatever it was they were building, while your eyes fell to Eddie more often than not. Noticing him gather his hair at his nape and wrap the hair tie around it several times, not pulling through on the last loop, thus allowing it to fan out from a bun in springy waves. The rest of his short layers sat over his ears, catching the wind when he whipped around to seize a car part from his stash. Probably salvaged from the junkyard you played in as kids; a place you owed many of your scars to.

The shirt he wore was for a local band in Indy. Their name strained over his full chest, white letters stretching and bunching as he employed his skilled hands over your motor. A remarkably snug fit on him. Tight. Formed to the curves of his body. Capped sleeves stopping at the apex of his shoulders. Sharp cut of his tricep contouring an elegant shadow from one tattoo to the next, black ink flexing as he cranked a wrench.

Loose strands of hair clung to the sheen on his neck.

Black leather baked in your arms under the setting sun, intensifying the cheap cologne he doused to disguise the layers of weed and cigarette smoke, accompanied by the same deodorant that was on his Hellfire shirt.

The peppered stubble on his jaw. His shaved mustache. Smudges of grease in the hollow of his cheek as he chewed on another complaint in your direction. Mouth twisted to the side in concentration, until his tongue involved itself, parting his lips.

His tongue was a dangerous thing to be jealous of, yet here you were, fawning over its ability to be intimate with his mouth, his lips. Oh yes, his lips. How many hours you wasted of your adult life being stuck in boring lectures delivered by droning professors while you were thinking about his lips framing your name in the warmest of manners.

Eddie was stunning. Dirty, and stunning. Sweaty from being the gentleman he was, giving you a hand in one of the areas of your life you neglected, and he was in dire need of someone to clean him off. Someone whose fingers were as kind as yours to treat the scope of his understated beauty.

Someone to bathe him after a long day.

Get him nice and clean.

Then dirty again.

His hips were pressed to the red metal of your car. Tight jeans showing each thrust he made as he yanked on something out of your view. Handcuff belt buckle clinking every so often. Shirt wrinkled over the pudge on his stomach, and you couldn’t fathom a better place to land a few kisses on your way down to his–

“You like watching me work?” he asked plainly, bent over the headlight closest to you, eyes affixed on his project.

You jerked as if you snapped awake from a dream, and asked the guys crowding around the saw horses, “Hey, whatcha makin’? Can I help?” Apparently, Gareth and Jeff were laboring over a quarterpipe, and Lloyd was making a wide ramp. Why he specified wide, you didn’t know, but it was the perfect excuse to get the hell away from Eddie.

It was too real being next to him in person, and you needed a break.

Your swanky Penny Lane coat proved too insulating on the unusually balmy winter afternoon, so you unclasped the ornate button and draped it over your car door, revealing your cherry red blouse and silk scarf tied around your neck.

As you placed Eddie’s jacket alongside yours, something fell out of his pocket. You picked up the white and red package and turned it over. Wrigley’s Spearmint. It was missing a few foil-wrapped sticks of gum. Thinking nothing of it, you put it back, and joined Lloyd.

“What should I do?”

“Did you just time travel from a Hendrix show?” Jeff asked, earning your middle finger.

Lloyd instructed you where to hold the boards he was cutting, and revved the jigsaw. Wood shavings rained in its wake.

A cacophony of buzzing drowned out further conversation. Saws, drills, and a stream of swears filled the lull of the drifting creeping sunset.

Gareth looked around him for the nail gun, and realized he left it in the van. He told Jeff to keep his weight on the curved plywood. “I’ll get it.” And what a poor sight he stumbled upon. He could almost feel his heartstrings tug for his friend’s transparent pining. Almost.

Gareth’s saunter took on a swagger as he approached Eddie, and clapped him on the shoulder, shocking him from his awestruck daze. “Might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.”

Eddie was quick to close his mouth, and go to work with his back facing you. So what if your scarf was cute. And your blouse hugged you in all the right places. And the color complemented you. And the space between the buttons gapped. And your bra was white. And he could admire your jeans without your coat blocking the view. He was allowed to appreciate these things on a platonic level. He was a respectable young man, after all.

Besides, he was well within his right to stare.. from beneath your car after jacking it up, laying on his back, sliding under the engine on a creeper board with a wrench in his hand to do.. something. He forgot.

How was he supposed to concentrate when he’d been deprived of touch for so long he found his chest tensing, and his throat closing, at the memory of his lips grazing your ear at the grocery store, and how if he kept his face there, your lips would’ve connected with his when you turned?

~~~

Daylight burned to dusk.

The quarterpipe sat in the middle of the road opposite the ramp. No one else seemed to care if cars could pass by, so you didn’t either.

Eddie dug his heels into the driveway and wheeled himself back and forth on the roller board, face turned to scrutinize what you were doing instead of minding his own business; and you’d know, because this was hardly the first time your gazes met, and you both looked away as if it never happened.

Though, an unexpected object entered your field of view, anyway.

“A shopping cart?” you questioned. Jeff nodded enthusiastically on his way to the quarterpipe, hauling it to the top. Surely they weren’t planning on..

Gareth’s eyes shone with teenage madness. “You wanna get the firecrackers? We need to christen the cart.”

“Sure..” you drawled. Silly you for assuming the overturned hunk of dented metal in the neighbor’s ditch was discarded trash and not some prized possession.

You stepped over a pair of black jean-clad legs on your way to the back of Eddie’s van, and opened the doors wider, peering inside. It was much messier than last time you were in it. Blown out speakers, guitar cases, and the aforementioned scrounged up parts to extend your car’s life occupied most of the space, along with loose papers and textbooks for school. Near you, there were boxes upon boxes of fireworks. Way more than you thought necessary, but he did say he wanted to end 1985 with a bang.

Pulling one closer to you, you found the red packs of fireworks strung together like a bandolier, and grabbed several belts worth.

And, of course, when you turned around, you gasped and backed into the rear bumper.

Fluttering your eyes closed, you stated in an even tone, “If you scare me one more time.”

“Maybe you should pay more attention to your surroundings.” Eddie wrung a dirty rag around his stained fingers, hip cocked out. He jerked his chin at your car. “Almost done. Not as good as new, but in a lot better condition than when you drove here.”

“Thank you. You seriously didn’t have to go and do all of this for me.”

The harsh light coming from Gareth’s garage divided Eddie’s face in halves. He held his hands up to inspect the grime under his fingernails, and answered, “I did it for me, so I can rest easy knowing you’re safe.” A shadow concealed his mouth, but you were certain he wasn’t smiling. The serious knot between his brows, and the bluntness in his visible eye pierced the uprising of nighttime splitting you into two sides of the same friendship. What you showed each other and what you kept hidden in the dark. “What if something happened and you got hurt?”

Your forearm was alive with the sensation of his warmth penetrating the chill on your skin. “I don’t live a safe life. I could fall and snap my neck at any moment on the uneven bars. A single missed catch and I’m gone.” As you spoke, you swayed closer, taunting the electricity to spark between you. His chest swelled with a breath. He smelled of spearmint. “If you want to keep me out of harm’s way, you’ll have to do better than fix my car.”

A single firework in the distance struck the saturated sky. Then more. More bangs, squeals, children shouting in awe around the subdivision.

Eddie didn’t say anything else, so you didn’t either.

Eddie didn’t make a move, so you didn’t either.

The delicate paper crinkled in your hands. “Do you have a lighter on you?”

Roused from his trance, he pointed at his jacket hanging over your door. “In my..” He trailed off, hand lowering as something registered to him. “Actually, I think I have some matches on my dash.”

It was a weird moment–the whole exchange, the awkward faltering–but you found the worn paper package on his dashboard, and joined the others, avoiding giving a side-long glance at Eddie, who involved himself in the finishing touches on your car.

The guys became more psyched up when you handed them the goodies. They tangled the fireworks around the handle of the shopping cart balanced precariously at the top of the quarterpipe, and Jeff propped his foot on one of the wheels, while Gareth climbed into the basket.

Jeff raised a single match and aligned it on the strike strip. “We hereby commence tonight’s festivities! Let the new year bring forth joy!” He looked at Gareth, then Lloyd. “Prosperity!” He spun to you, a certain glint of glee when his eyes landed on yours, then somewhere behind you. “And love,” he finished, lighting the match with flair.

It burned bright.

Flame to fuse, sparks flew.

Before even the first firecracker popped, the cart was wrangled, and Jeff was in motion. Shoving it over the edge, putting power behind his sprint as it sped down the slope. He let go. Gareth gripped the sides and whooped as he approached the wide ramp at max speed. It hit the incline, and together, they flew–at least, they gave the impression of flying right before they smacked the pavement. Bouncing, clanging, almost tipping nose-first, and recovering at the last second, skidding to a halt upright and uninjured.

The firecrackers burnt out their last bang, and fell to the road in dwindling flames.

Lloyd cruised alongside the chaos on his skateboard, and gave a hearty, “Hell yeah!” Gareth appeared a little shaken, but otherwise fine.

“Is the ramp okay?”

Relaxing from your wince, you peeped an eye open to confirm it did remain in one piece.

“Nice!” Jeff said, kicking the support beam you screwed into place. “It held up. The other one cracked on the first run.” Apparently that was a win in their books.

Gareth rode the back of the shopping cart to its wobbly stop in front of you. “Wanna take it for a spin?” He swung his arm over the reckless vehicle, and towards the safety hazards you helped facilitate.

The quarterpipe suddenly seemed towering. Much taller than when it was being constructed.

You placed your hands in your back pockets, and conjured an excuse while shifting from foot to foot. “Interestingly enough, as a NCAA athlete, I signed a contract stating I would not partake in irresponsible behavior. You know, the usual stuff to prevent an injury before Nationals. No ice skating, no shenanigans, no horsing around, and..” You tsked. “Definitely no tomfoolery.” You served him a cheeky grin, oblivious to the unamused stare Eddie was giving you after your little speech earlier.

“C’mon,” Gareth appealed in an equally charming twang. He stamped the end of his skateboard and caught it in his hand, spinning it around to where the grip tape faced you. “How about we start with this on solid ground? You don’t have to be scared. I’ll teach you.”

Pursing your lips, you stalled.

“Don’t let him peer pressure you,” Eddie warned from your driver’s seat, about to put the key in the ignition. “Think about your future. You can’t compete with a broken wrist.”

A searing flash of anger struck your nerves. Somehow, when it was Eddie worrying over you, it was so much more irritating than being called scared. Like hell you were scared, and like hell you were going to get hurt. It was riding a fucking skateboard, not jumping through a flaming hoop. And how hard could it be? Balancing was sort of your thing.

You raised your eyebrows at Gareth, and shrugged. “Sure, yeah, teach me.”

The annoyed sigh behind you encouraged you all the more.

Eddie could suck a fat one. You wanted to have fun.

Gareth led you to the street, and gave you a rundown on where to put your feet, talking you through the process of transferring your weight through your stance, and to trust him. Jeff was nearby giving feedback, as well, and Lloyd dropped in from the quarterpipe to skate circles around you. They reassured you that everyone shook like a newborn deer when stepping onto the board for the first time.

Although Gareth was grasping you around your forearms, he felt too far away when the board creaked. You didn’t expect it to lurch forwards and back from how you stood on it sideways. In a blink, you grappled for his shoulders, snatching fistfuls of his gray hoodie and the collar of his flannel vest into your vice grip, panicking.

He laughed. “You’re good, you’re good.” Moving to where he was cupping the undersides of your elbows, he waited for you to regain your balance, and said, “Don’t look at your feet, it’s throwing you off.” You lifted your gaze to his face. His eyes were kinder up close. “We’re just gonna.. Yeah, like that.” Like a waltz.

Guiding you at the snail’s pace you were comfortable at, you discovered every ridge of every bump of every pebble stuck in every crack in the asphalt beneath the wheels. He eased you in a straight line. The pins on his flannel reflected the burst of bottle rockets being set off in the cul-de-sac.

Your concentration was dedicated to staying standing, but you were aware of the sound of your engine dying down, and a set of watchful eyes on the back of your head.

“Put your weight on your back foot. It’ll lift the front of the board, so you can steer yourself in a circle.” You listened, and did as he said, bringing the nose up in quick pops. It wasn’t quite a circle, but the guys were stoked for your progress.

“I’m doing it!” you said, conquering your fear with another tap, tap, tap of a circle. You didn’t have the hang of balancing in your shoulders yet, rather than your hips, but it was something. Tap, tap, tap. Braver. Bigger movements. Faster. He spun you faster. More weight on your back foot. Another circle. More weight. And then, pain.

“I’ll get it,” Jeff mumbled, running off in some direction.

“Hey, we got the first fall out of the way. Not so bad, right?”

You got too daring, it seemed, judging by Gareth’s surprised face hovering above yours, on account of you bringing him down with you.

You let go of him with an apology, but he kept his hold on you to make sure your head didn’t hit the pavement. He was about to ask if you were okay, and you were about to say your right ass cheek stung, however, an aura of told-you-so forced him to exit your immediate vicinity.

“Nope, we’re done with that,” Eddie enunciated through his teeth. He stuck his hand out with the intent to help you up, and you mirrored him. Yet. He hesitated. Imperceivable to his friends who won his affection easily, but to you, it was the longest split second decision you had the agony of enduring. Your hand was there. Right there, and he rejected it. He aimed for your wrist instead, clasping his washed fingers around your polyester sleeve, and he was wearing his jacket now. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t. He ensured you couldn’t. No contact. Ever.

It was starting to get old.

You accepted his offer, and voiced your exasperation, “Eddie, I fell like, two feet. I’m fine.”

“Fine? What if you twisted your ankle?”

Determined to keep him tethered to you, you locked his wrist into your hand’s dominant embrace, and stepped to him, speaking right above a tame whisper, “But I didn’t.”

“And what if you landed on your knee?” he asked, matching your low tone. He drew you closer. Not enough to be witnessed, but you were consumed by the discreet pressure of his frustration on your pulse. Thrilled by it, even.

“Ease up, man. Your girl survived the Great Skateboard Crash of 1985 without so much as a scratch.”

“I’m not his girl.”

“She’s not my girl,” Eddie reiterated at the expense of Jeff’s shit eating grin, refusing to break your eye contact. “She’s the thorn in my side.” He initiated letting go of you all too soon. This time, you were the one to pursue him.

Taking him by the upper arms, you sank your nails into his leather barrier, and teased your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout. “I think Eddie forgot how to have fun. Remember, Munson, we used to build ramps out of tossed construction materials propped onto deflated tires we found around the trailer park? How many times did we crash our bikes and almost knock our teeth out? By those standards, this is totally OSHA compliant. Live a little.”

“Yeah, Eddie, live a little,” Gareth snarked.

“He’s only this protective over you,” Lloyd observed with a note of mock hurt. “He doesn’t care if we get hurt.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie dismissed, fighting a smile. “I care if you can’t make it to Hellfire.” Earning a round of laughter, stress ebbed from his posture. His grumpiness melted under your firm palms pleading for him to relax.

With a voice overflowing with reluctance, he asked, ”You want a ride in the cart?” You nodded. “Get in.”

~~~

Besides being the one at the helm of your fate, Eddie had a few conditions: arms and legs must remain inside the vehicle at all times, no ramp, wear your coat, no ramp, don’t aim the Roman candle at his handsome face, and–most importantly–no ramp. And there you were, sitting in the basket of the shopping cart atop the quarterpipe’s platform, shoulders against the handlebar that Eddie gripped with white knuckles, twisting your head to smile up at him.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” he said.

You smiled bigger.

Eddie took a match from Jeff, and lit the top of the tube in your hand. “Any last words?”

“Just one,” you said, waving your middle finger.

Ever gentle, he shook the cart, scaring you into facing forward as he approached the edge. The fire spouting from your firework grew in fierceness. Blindingly bright, and hot as it crept down the tube. Eddie asked if you were ready, and the first ball shot out like a flare gun, hitting a tree branch in its path, before landing on a roof and fizzling out.

You’re convinced he didn’t wait for you to answer.

The front wheels crested the top of the quarterpipe. Completely vertical, your insides performed a somersault as the hard, unforgiving street below stretched on for eons; and then, it was gone. Replaced by the ache of your body being slammed against metal. A disorienting jumble of the firework’s floom as it went off beside your head, and Eddie’s cackling laugh reverberating between your ears.

You sailed past where the ramp used to be. Eddie was the captain of your ship. Running and hopping onto the back of the shopping cart. His hands gripped your shoulders, not the handle. His thumbs were everything you needed, prodding deep into your muscles. Fingertips perched on your collar bone. Exploring further down as the blur of houses came to a reasonable scroll when the fun slowed to a crawl.

“Satisfied?”

He wasn’t as close as he was in the grocery store, but you whipped your head around in hopes of catching a close look at his lips. It was worth it for his half-lidded eyes alone.

The last firework went off, illuminating his face in a lovely shade of red.

You said, “Let’s do it again.”

He said, “Absolutely not.”

~~~

The rest of the evening was much different from its rocky start.

Everyone was buzzing like bees. Playing music at random intervals, wrestling in the front yard, showing off their skate tricks. Demanding you do another backflip off the ramp, even though you did several already. Challenging you to arm wrestling matches on the hood of your car. Totally normal occurrences.

You clicked your tongue in a pitying gesture at Jeff. “Lost again.” He forked up another dollar by throwing it at you, muttering about how you must’ve cheated.

Later, minutes to midnight, it was almost as if they coordinated jamming together in the garage, only to make excuses to leave, right when you walked inside to tell them the rest of the fireworks were out of Eddie’s van.

“We’re gonna set those up!”

“Yeah, three heads are better than one.”

“Six hands are better than two!”

You had to wonder if they were always this ridiculous as they left you alone with Eddie in the most obvious way possible.

“Did you like that one?” he asked about the last song. His face was hidden behind the curtain of his hair, looking down at his guitar as he practiced a thrashy transition.

“Loved it.” And it was the whole truth spoken from the depths of your subconscious, where the sparks of old feelings resided, watching his mouth from afar, pressing his lips to the microphone as he spouted rather poetic lyrics about his brain being cracked open and spiders crawling out.

A smirk stretched his face. “Really?” He re-tuned the bottom strings of his guitar and turned a knob on his amp. “I figured you were more of this type.” Plucking a simple chord, he scrunched his nose, and oscillated the whammy bar while grooving on one of his pedals, acting like he was super into the psychedelic vibrato it created. “Something like that for, roughly, twenty-eight minutes while everyone is tripping on acid.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned. He was annoying, but back to normal. Chewing on another stick of gum, covered in dirt from pinning Jeff in the front yard earlier. Blades of dead grass tangled in his curls. And you immersed yourself in your role as well, dwelling over the physical pain of not being able to explore the intimacy of removing them. To become familiar with the feel of his scalp beneath your fingers. To understand the proximity of his face near yours without aversion. To know the taste of his minty gum on your tongue..

Something dawned on you.

Spearmint.

Chewing gum since this afternoon.

No lighter.

His prickliness when you crossed him.

He hadn’t smoked today.

He was chewing gum to curb his compulsion for a cigarette. No drinking, or other drugs, either. He cared to have minty breath. He wanted to be sober. He cared to have minty breath, and he wanted to be sober for midnight.

Maybe you were spiraling into territory you shouldn’t, but the implication was too tangible to argue against.

A midnight kiss.

It was impossible to keep the softness out of your tone, and the delicate flutter from tainting your words, but you held fast, “Wanna watch the fireworks together?”

He read his watch. “Yeah, it’s almost time.”

~~~

The stairs leading to Gareth’s front door were cozy. It was impossible to share them with another person without touching. You were surprised Eddie agreed to sit with you, molded to one another from hip, to the length of your thighs, pressed together in foreign inseparability. Hands, arms, and elbows were curled in tight, but your shoulders bumped on occasion. The guys had their backs to you, giving you privacy, while they tied the final fuses of illegally purchased fireworks together, running low on matches.

Now, the inky black night was constantly alight with an assortment of colors in a range of patterns.

The neighborhood was alive with a countdown.

Your heart was in your throat. Pounding beats in your temples. It was coming.

Three matches were struck and shared. The guys danced around the pile in the street, shouting and giggling, and retreating to the end of the driveway, away from danger. But not far enough to witness Eddie running his sweaty palms over his jeans.

You couldn’t discern the numbers being counted. Your senses dulled. Tunnel vision for the man beside you. Everything else faded away.

“One!” someone shouted over the dozens of screeching fireworks being set off at once.

Eddie didn’t make a move.

But you did.

Leaning over the appropriate amount necessary to be heard, you spoke into his ear, smitten by the fortuitous tickle of his hair brushing over your nose, “Looks like it’s officially your year.”

You must’ve taken him off-guard.

Initially, he jumped. Or shivered, you didn’t know. But when he turned to look at you, he slowed at the introduction of your cheeks sliding along one another as he drew away. Separating once the corner of your lips were at risk of converging. His stubble was scratchy. Your skin was soft. Who knew.

His gaze bounced around your candid expression. Memorizing your raw innocence at the newness of the sensation, like you memorized his. “Yeah, I’ll finally graduate,” he agreed. His exhale landed on your lips. A caress. Your body longed for more. Then, with absolute confidence, he declared, “After that, I’m gonna follow you everywhere.”

What?

You urged your attention away from his lips, to his shy, brown eyes seeking yours, resisting the impulse to look away.

He displayed his hope in the timid dimple emerging in his cheek. “I don’t think college is in my future, but I’m good at other things. Fixing cars, working with my hands, charming bar owners into giving me a gig. I..” His tongue paused on the tip of his teeth. Vulnerability whelmed him; mouth falling open and closed as he found an ounce of bravery. “Olympics.. The circus, whatever.. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. So we never have to be alone again. We’ll have each other. Be together..” His shaky whisper went faint as his nerves stole his voice. “You need a best friend to take care of you. To keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.. Forever.”

He used the dreaded label–best friends–but this time.. It didn’t bother you.

He promised you forever.

Rendered speechless, you uttered the first thing that came to mind, expecting him to go along with the joke, as if he wasn’t serious. “The circus is a lot more dangerous than falling off a skateboard. I could get hurt.”

“Not if I’m there to catch you.”

Your chest caved under the impact of the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you. Fireworks burst in your stunned silence. Vision blurring with unadulterated happiness, managing a single, gravelly, “Okay,” amongst the content, and relieved, laugh you two shared, unsure of what this confession meant to either of you.

————

Jeff rapidly tapped the back of his hand on Lloyd’s chest. “I’m not wearing my glasses. Did they kiss?” he asked, excited.

Sighing, Lloyd let him down. “No.. But they do look happy.”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “How can they both be so stupid?”

————

Eddie knew he forfeited another chance at kissing you when he stopped leaning into your car, and wished you a safe drive, accepting the fact he wouldn’t see you again before you left. Your precious lips were right there, grinning at him with undue tenderness, eyes shining with an emotion he couldn’t place, but he couldn’t bring himself to risk it. Your futures were entwined now. He’d see you soon. Hopefully it wouldn’t take over three months for you to visit again, but he didn’t mind. It just meant more time for him to summon up the courage to almost, vaguely, in a roundabout way, with the caveat of being friends-only, sort of admit his feelings for you.

Still, he was proud of himself.

He wore his smile all the way home, putting a little pep in his step as he rushed up the stairs, and threw open the door to his trailer, scrambling for the pack of cigarettes and lighter he left on the kitchen counter.

Lord, he smoked through the first one in some kind of nicotine-induced euphoria.

He was in paradise. “Not if I’m there to catch you,” he mumbled to himself on his way to his room, swinging his arms, wholly intoxicated by his own charisma. “God, I’m corny.”

Tossing the carton of Camels on his nightstand, he went to put the lighter in his jacket pocket, and encountered what felt like wadded up papers stuffed inside. Pulling his hand out, he uncurled his fingers, and stared.

More hundred dollar bills than he’d ever had the pleasure of holding at once. A few twenties, too. Blood rushed to his cheeks. This was supposed to be a favor, and you snuck behind his back to pay him as if he were a real mechanic.. But that wasn’t the only thing that had his heart racing.

He flipped the accompanying Polaroid over.

The beach photo you promised. New Jersey 1985 written in the blank space at the bottom. More importantly, you in a bikini. Posed coyly with one arm crossed beneath your tits to create a gorgeous amount of cleavage, while staring into the camera with enough of a smirk to know what you were doing, while still being able to deny it.

After a beat, Eddie tipped his head and surrendered. He began unfastening his belt. “Great way to end the night, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

769 notes · View notes

bridgyrose · 2 months

Note

If you've seen Hazbin Hotel - Emily and Charlie have a girls night that may or may not upset Vaggie... a lot.

(Yes, I have seen Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you enjoy this little drabble)

Vaggie paused as she watched Charlie do her makeup, trying to think if there was anything she was missing. It wasnt an anniversary, that still wasnt for a few months. Though she was certain it wasnt any sort of event for the hotel, otherwise Charlie would be making a bigger fuss about how everything looked. No, this was something different.

“So,” Vaggie started. “What’s the occasion?”

Charlie finished putting on her make up and started to brush her hair again. “Well, remember when we went to Heaven to try to stop the exterminations and get them onboard with our hotel?”

“Why do I feel like I’m not going to like this?”

“Emily invited me back up for a girl’s night.”

“Wait, what!?” Vaggie made her way over to Charlie, not quite sure she heard her correctly. “Why would you want to go back up to Heaven?”

“Because I think Emily will be a great friend to have,” Charlie answered as she finished brushing her hair. “And… I think she really does believe that our idea can work. So if being friends with her means making an ally up there, then I dont see why I shouldnt hang out with her.”

Vaggie sighed and sat down, watching Charlie as she finished getting ready for her girl’s night. “Then you shouldnt go alone. Someone should go with you-”

“I cant bring Alastor, Angel, or Husk for a girl’s night, Nifty is a bit too… and you… if I take you up there, then who’ll watch the hotel while I’m gone?”

“Since your dad is sticking around with us, I figured he could.”

“You remember what happened the last time we left him and Alastor alone, right?” Charlie gave a small smile as she finished up. “Besides, you’re the only one I trust to keep the hotel running while I’m gone. And its only for a night, I’ll be back by morning.”

“Wait, cant we talk about this before you go?” Vaggie asked as a portal to heaven opened up next to Charlie, standing up and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I really dont want you to go alone.”

“I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Vaggie sighed as she felt Charlie kiss her forehead and rush into the portal. She watched the portal close, still a bit upset at her girlfriend for rushing off on her own and without telling her about it. It wasnt like her to keep something like this a secret, and if she wasnt going to accept any help to keep safe, then she was going to take things into her own hands.

Vaggie quickly rushed out of Charlie’s room and started to make her way to Alistor’s, already running through her head how to get this favor without making a deal with him. When she reached his room, she knocked on the door, blood nearly freezing as she heard his voice.

“Come in!” Alastor said, his voice almost a bit too cheerful. “I’ve been waiting for you, my dear.”

Vaggie took a deep breath as she walked in. “Alastor, I need you-”

“I know exactly why you’re here.” Alastor pulled away from his microphone and smiled at Vaggie. “And I can give you exactly what you want. For a price.”

“I’m not here to make a deal, I just need a portal to Heaven. And I know you know a few people who can make that happen.”

“And if not for a deal, then what do you plan to use for payment?”

Vaggie paused for a moment, then smirked. “If you know why I’m here, then you know that Charlie’s in Heaven. And since you made a deal with her for a favor you still havent asked of her, I know that you’ll get me a portal to Heaven so I can keep her safe. Otherwise, if something happens to her, you lose that favor.”

Alastor’s smile slowly lowered to as close to a frown as he’d let it, glaring at her. “Fine, but only so Charlie can make good on our deal.” He turned to look out his tower once more, his smile coming back. “Though, I’m sure Charlie wont like you following her if she didnt tell you that she was going there in the first place. If I’m going to get you a portal to Heaven, then we’re going to need to make you look less like you.”

Vaggie hesitated for a moment as she watched Alastor’s shadow start to grow and a green glow started to come across the room. “A-and… what exactly do you have in mind?”

“Oh dont worry my dear, this will only hurt for a second.”

#vaggie hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #drabbles #hazbin hotel

27 notes · View notes

tlbodine · 2 years

Text

Lessons Learned at My First Book Signing

I attended an in-person author event today for the first time ever. It was not an especially high-profile deal -- just a local author fair hosted by the library. But it was still the first time I'd ever set up a table for the purpose of selling and signing books and interacting with would-be readers, and I want to talk about that experience a little bit and give some take-aways and advice for other writers who might be curious about doing something like this.

Step One: Find an Event

My dear friend and co-conspirator @comicreliefmorlock tipped me off about this. She saw a flier for it at the library and I applied on a whim, not even sure if I'd get accepted for the event. But I did! And that's the first lesson I want to give you: Everything good I have in my life I got by saying, "Fuck it, let's give it a shot."

Don't get too deep in your own head about things. Don't self-reject from opportunities. Kick imposter syndrome in the teeth and just do the thing.

Step Two: Set Up a Table

I was operating on a major shoestring budget for this, and I didn't have time to put together real signage or anything fancy. But I could go to the dollar store for some Halloween flair and a tablecloth and honestly? Even that was eye-catching enough that it definitely lured some people over. Next time I'll be better prepared to do something a bit more cohesive. But even these little touches put me miles beyond most of the other authors there, who just had a small stack of books on a bare table.

A few tips:

Don't put out all your books at once. Leave most of them in the box and tuck it under the table or somewhere. Fewer books, artfully arranged = implied scarcity. And it just looks nicer.

Scatter your business card/swag around the table. Consider leaving out a dish of candy. Freebies lure people into stopping.

Put up a sign with pricing. I used a small whiteboard from the dollar store and doodled on it when I got bored.

Try to have a little flair. Keep it on-brand with the type of stuff you're writing. The goal here is to be eye-catching enough that people want to come see what you've got going on.

Step Three: What You'll Need

If you're going to attend any kind of author fair or signing event, I recommend the following:

Some way to take payment not in cash. If I'd had a Square reader today, I would have probably sold at least a couple more books. Nobody carries cash anymore (but plan to have a bit of change anyway). The sales I made today came through PayPal, and having that QR code sign (free with my business account!) came in clutch.

An assistant. If you can, try to bring someone along to be your helper. It makes a huge difference having somebody who can watch your table while you go network with other sellers, as well as somebody who can help make change and restock the books if you get busy talking to people. And on the flipside, if nobody shows up, your helper can keep you from feeling super lonely and awkward.

Some kind of swag or, at least, a business card. Bookmarks or stickers/bookplates would be baller, too. But you for sure need something with your name and some kind of identifier -- your website, your social media, your Wattpad, something. This is what my business card looks like:

They're double-sided (the black is on the back). I had these printed up for Wattcon 2018 (and then forgot them in my car at the airport) and didn't have a website yet at that point. But I'm still quite fond of them. I designed them, had them printed, and picked them up at Office Depot.

I cannot express enough the importance of the business card. You may think you're there to sell books. But you are actually there so that people will remember your name. Folks who stop by might not be ready to buy your book, but they might check you out later. At the very least, they'll now have a thing with your name on it in their possession, which will help stick in their mind so the next time they see your name, it will have a ring of familiarity to it, which will make them much more likely to be interested in what you're doing.

Step Four: Talk to People!

Make eye contact and smile with passers-by. Engage with people who look interested in what you have to offer. Don't try to hard-sell or anything, but be available to answer questions. Have a quick, one-sentence pitch for explaining your book at the ready. Encourage people to take your swag.

And then get up and go talk to other people! If you're at an event where there are multiple authors, go introduce yourself (bring a business card!) and ask them questions about their work. Be friendly. I traded one of my books for a book from my neighbor's table today:

Eirik, it turns out, is a Twitter mutual of mine. We share like 20 online acquaintances and would have never known we lived in the same place if not for this event. I tagged him in my tweet about the event, and he tagged me back for his followers. That's networking, baby! (also this book looks sweet as hell. The Great Gatsby with werewolves? yes please. I'll let you know how it is after Angel gets done with it because she yoinked it from me as soon as it came back to the table).

Even if there aren't any other authors to meet-and-greet and network with, ingratiate yourself with the staff of the library/bookstore/wherever. Be friendly and thank them for the work they're putting in. Being kind and gracious is how you get invited back to more events. And you really want to make friends of librarians and bookstore employees because they're in a position every day to recommend books to dozens of people. Word of mouth is literally priceless in this business.

Something I saw others doing that was really smart is capturing email addresses to add to their newsletter. One had a giveaway raffle - sign up, then a name gets drawn at the end. One just encouraged people to sign up so they could learn more about his work. This was really clever and a good use of the space -- I'm going to do something similar next time I do this!

Step Five: Don't Get Discouraged

I sold two books at this event. That was twice as many as anybody else I talked to. Like I said earlier -- this is a marketing thing, not a chance to profit directly off book sales. Don't feel disappointed if you go to something like this and don't sell out. If people are scoping you out and engaging with you at all, if they're taking your card or signing up for your newsletter, that's a win.

R.L. Stine pretty famously had one person come to his first book signing. He writes about it in his autobiography. I figure, if his career could start out like that, it's good enough for anybody.

You can learn a lot from going to an event even if you're not selling books. From watching the way people interacted with my table, I came away with a few observations:

Most people who use libraries are, in order: old people, parents with young kids, teenagers. Of that, I captured the most attention of teenagers. They were drawn like catnip over to my table, maybe because of the Halloween decor, maybe because of the covers. Old people don't read horror, by and large -- they prefer mysteries. But a lot of them know someone else in their life who does like scary stuff, and a lot of them took my card to presumably tell their loved ones about it. (I had a few teenagers who absolutely would have been sales if they'd had any money. I told them I was also on Wattpad and encouraged them to take a card to look me up there. The response to that was an even mixture of bafflement, suspicion, and excitement. Yes, graying middle-aged farts like me are on Wattpad.)

The Darkness of Dreamland was far and away the book that captured people's attention. I think the cover really drew people in.

Purple is an unusual color in the genre, and that hand-painted unicorn with its malevolent, unusual design is a real eye-catcher. A lot of people wanted to stop and read the back cover to see what was up with this book. Which leads me to....

Your back cover copy is your most effective sales pitch. The front cover has to get them through the door, and the back cover seals the deal. It's really easy when you're working on them to forget about that. It's easy to get too deep in your head about making both of them accurate or literal interpretations of the story or symbolic or whatever. That's not the purpose. Your book cover is a marketing tool, it is ad copy, and you have to approach it with that mindset.

So those were my takeaways from my first-ever author fair. I hope some of this was at least a little interesting or helpful for you! I got a lot out of this experience, even if I did spend a whole lot more money ordering copies than I earned selling them -- now I just have to challenge myself to sell the rest of the books in my trunk!

Happy to answer any questions or give clarification on things.

#long post #writing advice #publishing advice #writing tips #publishing #book selling #writeblr

323 notes · View notes

poemnic-tarot · 11 months

Text

🌗 Master List 🌒

Here are a list of my Pick-A-card topics

Total Works: 11

Pick-A-Cards Topics

What Messages does the Universe have for you?

Reassurance From The Universe

What does your Higher-Self want to say to You?

Channeled Messages From Your Soulmate Higher self

Light & Shadow. What part of yourself you cannot see?

Pick a Poem to see Your Messages!

What types of Beauty are you?

Intuitive Channeled Messages for You

What types of Villains are you?

Who Are You In Your Friends Group? - Haikyuu! Edition

Timeless Prediction, the next 3 Months (Paid Reading Option)

🌿 🌱 🍁 🌾 ✨ 🌙 You Are Loved 🌙 ✨ 🌾 🍁 🌱 🌿

If you love my pick a card reading and want a personal reading specifically just for you. I have created a Paid Reading💸 section below. I intended to do more topic in the future but I just want to start with the simple monthly predictions. This is quite a challenge for me and it is something I've never done before, so if you are interested I would kindly ask you to please be patient with me. Thank you so much!🦋

If you are interested and would like to support me, I am so grateful for you!. Thank you in advance!!🍓🥰 and watch out for more later!

💸🍀Paid Reading🍀💸

Payment PayPal only - €33

🍀Options Available:

The next 4 month forecast - see the post for the exact lay out. Layout : Plus one specific question of your choice for each month

2.Coming soon

🍀How To Apply:

Email: [email protected]

Optional : use below as draft if you want

✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻

Dear PoemNic

My name is ..........My birthday is ..........

I would like to request a personal reading on (1.the next 4 months forecast) please and thank you.

My 4 specific questions for each month are: .....................

Kind regards,

........

✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻✻

🍀Wait for CONFIRMATION:

Once I receive your request, I will get back to you to:

confirmed your booking and kindly asked you to pay the full amount.

Once I have also confirmed your payment I will get started on your reading and get back to you in 1-5 business day.

🍀Disclaimer:

My Tarot reading is only to be use for guidance and entertainment purposes only. Energy is alway shifting and changing. These predictions are only to be use as a guidelines for your life, not an end all be all. Please used with personal discernment.🧿

I do not do refund.

You must be 21 years or older to order a request

(I will not accept questions of life or death situation.I have the Right to ask you to change your specific question)

🌙 🌕 🪲 ☀️ 🍃 You Are Loved 🌙 🌕 🪲 ☀️ 🍃 🌙

Check out @cant-find-my-name for more of my Original poetry or Follow my IG PoemNic🪲

Check out my YouTube channel for more Pick A Card - PoemNic-Tarot

Thank you so much for being here🧡

Donate to support me below, thank you in advance!🍯

🌙 🌕 🪲 ☀️ 🍃 You Are Loved 🌙 🌕 🪲 ☀️ 🍃 🌙

#pick a card #masterlist #tarot reading #messages #channelled message #tarot cards #tarot messages #paid readings #predictions #spirtuality

21 notes · View notes

cvntrlseecvntrlvee · 3 months

Text

► seventeen's jeonghan ◄

[♡]=personal favs, [♕]=smut, [☼]=fluff, [☁]=angst

O∙N∙G∙O∙I∙N∙G∙∙∙∙F∙I∙C∙S

↳ challenge me by seokgyuu — ♡, ♕ | ?k

you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

C∙O∙M∙P∙L∙E∙T∙E∙D∙∙∙F∙I∙C∙S

↳ breakfast in bed (jeonghan, joshua) by peachybun-bun — ♕ | 1.2k

↳ inflection point (jeonghan, seungcheol) by leejihoonownsmyheart — ♡♡♡,♕,☁,☼ | ?

you love yoon jeonghan. no, scratch that. you fucking adore yoon jeonghan; so much that the moment he asks you to be in an exclusive set-up with his current partner, you accept the offer in a heartbeat. what you fail to consider, however, is who your boss’ boyfriend actually is.

↳ love cafe by chocosvt— ♕, ☼, ☁ | 17.6k

while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not.

↳ mirror mirror by chocosvt— ♕ | 10.7k

jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are

↳ my guardian demon sucks at his job (not clickbait) by shuaflix ☁, ☼, ♕ | 23.6k

just when you thought your luck couldn't get any worse, you accidentally manage to summon an ancient demon prince named jeonghan out of a scrap of paper from your statistics textbook. now, you're tasked with figuring out how to return your so-called "guardian demon" back to where he came from before he can stir up more trouble.

↳ pathetic series by leejihoonownsmyheart — ♡♡♡, ♕♕♕♕♕ | ?k

“When your best friend Jeongyeon drags you to a frat party, you aren’t expecting much. Certainly not to be fucked dumb by notorious man whore Yoon Jeonghan, but hey, what happens at a frat party, stays at a frat party.“

↳ red horn // crawl by himbocoups — ♕ | k

red horn: devils are contract workers - simply offer them a payment that they can never refuse, and your problems would be taken care of. the only thing is, what could a mere human possibly offer to a devil? crawl: If there is anything about the Devil, it’s that he always keeps his promises. The problem is, he’s mad that you seemed to have forgotten his promise. Crawling for the Devil is the least of your problems.

↳ take trouble, make it double (jeonghan, seungcheol) by sluttywoozi — ♕ | 4.7k

It’s not every day you get to fuck your campus crush and your no longer ex-boyfriend, and you’re going to make the most of it.

↳ to live again // dear dream by viastro — ☁, ☼ | 38.7k & 5.1k

it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?

↳ study break by cheolism — ♕ | 2.9k

jeonghan decides to take a break during your study session as the library.

↳ we get along infamously by seungkwansphd — ♕ | 5.2k

you can never, have never, will never get along with Yoon Jeonghan, but unfortunately you have a chemistry that is simply undeniable. no strings attached is perfect, except when those pesky feelings and that new girl decide to pop up unannounced.

R∙E∙A∙C∙T∙I∙O∙N∙S∙∙∙S∙C∙E∙N∙A∙R∙I∙O∙S

#masterlist #fic recs #fic rec nav #svt masterlist #jeonghan masterlist

6 notes · View notes

oldbookist · 1 year

Text

thou shalt find the winter’s rage freeze thy blood less coldly

On Christmas Day, Marius returned late from his daily wanderings to find a package on his bed.

There was no question of who it was for, as his name was on it, but there was no hint as to the sender. Slightly perturbed, Marius opened it. Inside was a thick scarf of blue wool, finely made and soft. This confused him even more. It was not hard to guess how the giver had gotten in, since he left his key in the door, but who would go out of their way to give him something? There were only a few people who knew where he lived. It was certainly not his grandfather, he could not imagine that it was Ma’am Bougon, and M. Mabeuf had never visited his home. And such a gift would not have been too cheap. Could it have been Her? His heart leapt at the thought, but it was impossible; she did not know his name, much less where he lived.

There was, however, one other person he could think of.

Marius put on his hat again, put the scarf under his arm, and left his apartment again. The December wind bit bitterly at his face, and his worn coat offered little protection. It was only becoming more worn as the months got colder, Marius thought ruefully, since the absence of a fireplace in his apartment made it necessary for him to wear it almost constantly. The scarf was nice. Still, he turned onto the rue Saint-Jacques.

As he expected, he saw Courfeyrac coming down the street from the hotel, and ran to meet him.

“Did you break into my room to give me this?” Marius asked.

Courfeyrac bowed. “Good day to you too, Baron Pontmercy. And I did not break into your room. You left your door unlocked.”

Of course.

“It is very generous of you, Courfeyrac, but—”

Courfeyrac held up his hand. “I won’t hear a word. My dear, I know you hate to accept anything from me, but it’s winter, your coat is wearing thin, you don’t even have a fire; it is frightful. I cannot bear to think of you catching your death in that dreadful place. Please just accept it, as a personal favor to me.”

“But I did not get you anything, and I owe you a great deal already,” Marius said peevishly. “You don’t owe a thing to me.”

Courfeyrac crossed his arms and suddenly looked serious. “Marius, has it ever occurred to you that I might actually like you?”

Marius blinked.

“I mean it. That there is more between friends than—than just debts and owing?” He took Marius’s arm and gestured with his cane. “I know all about your principles and your honor. But a friendship is not precisely calculated with debts and payments like a bank loan. Do not aspire to rid yourself of debts, you will rid yourself of brotherhood also—I myself have owed some sum of money to Bahorel for years, and for that reason he dines with me every day,” he laughed. “And since he dines with me every day we are good friends, and for that I have gone to the trouble of bailing him out of the police station once or twice.”

“Ought we to calculate exactly what is owed and avoid running up a debt of favors? Or is it better just to be good to each other as well as we can? I myself think the balance will work itself out. You have not studied your Desmoulins, young man. Fraternité means that we are all obliged to our fellow man. It is no shame to rely on the goodwill of others so long as we offer goodwill to others in our turn. That is what we all owe to the common brotherhood of man—it is the nature of the Republic, you know. And you have been a fine friend to me. I don’t help you because I expect anything else in return,” Courfeyrac said. “In other words,” he said, taking his hand, “your friendship is enough. You owe me nothing more.”

Marius pondered this idea in silence. It did not seem quite possible.

“And,” Courfeyrac added, as though reading his mind, “I am sorry if you have ever been taught otherwise.”

“It’s just that you have given me so much,” Marius said quietly. “And you ask for so little. And…I have so little to give you.”

“Your friendship is enough,” Courfeyrac repeated kindly.

Marius hesitated, then wrapped the scarf around his neck. He stared at the ground. “You are always so good to me,” he said. “Thank you. Truly. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

Courfeyrac clapped him on the back. “Marius,” he said bracingly, “it’s only a scarf.”

Marius shook his head and began to turn away. “Merry Christmas,” Courfeyrac said, waving. “I suppose I’ll see you around?”

“Merry Christmas,” Marius responded vaguely. He took several steps in the opposite direction before stopping suddenly. He walked back up to Courfeyrac, who looked at him inquisitively. He embraced him.

Courfeyrac was caught off guard, but wrapped his arms around him warmly. “This is a welcome gift,” he laughed. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“Thank you,” Marius murmured. “For everything. I will make it all up to you. Someday.”

Courfeyrac sighed and patted his hair. “I’m sure you will. In the meantime, will you consent to having dinner with me?”

Marius released him. “I will.”

“And you can tell me about this girl you’ve been pining over for months,” Courfeyrac said, grinning.

Marius blushed and said nothing.

#les mis #fic #my fic #courfeyrac #marius pontmercy #les miserables #christmas

37 notes · View notes

smallestapplin · 2 years

Note

Now hear me out... ingo and emmet (separately) as your sugar daddies

No no, I hear you LOUD and clear, tho I’ve always liked the idea of them being unintentionally sugar daddies. They live humbly so with you by their side they can spoil you to their hearts content!

(I think I like these so much is cause my love language is gift giving and I want to spoil a partner-)

Asks are open!

(Note : I realized I made this really fluffy when you were probably hinting at smut and I’m only now realizing it when I’m about to post, or I got it right, i don’t know I’m not very bright.)

🔲Ingo is the worse of the two about spoiling you, he just loves you so much, and though he can verbalize it very beautifully, he feels you shouldn’t have to worry or stress about anything!

-Being a popular subway boss for so long earned him a lot, through his own paycheck, magazine covers about him and his twin, and being asked to be a speaker at tournaments or being asked and paid to be in said tournament.

-All that offered a lot.

-And who better to spend it on than you?

-Rent? Covered, utilities? Covered, food? Covered, anything you can think of he’s got it covered.

-Like hell he will let you spend a dime.

-Never holds it against or anything.

-Ingo just wants your love and time.

-Trips to the mall and you can’t decide between two large plushies? Get them both dear, no their price doesn’t matter, get them.

-Need new clothes? He has you covered, and he gives very sweet feed back, his words are as sweet as sugar.

-Ingo hates calling it an allowance but he has no other words for it, you get a hefty one too just to make sure you have enough for going out with friends.

-note if you are one of those people who hates it when someone spends money on you. Tragic, if you argue with him about it like “no I’ll just pick one, they are expensive enough already.” He will pick up a third item you were eyeing.

He will make it more expensive the more or longer you try to argue with him on this, just let him spoil you!-

🔳Emmet however is not very good with words, he does know he has love to give and whatever you love he is down for showering with it.

-Always pays attention to what you like so he can surprise you with gifts! So! Many! Gifts!

-Shopping trips happen at LEAST once a week.

-Dates however are every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, but all his work lunches are spent with you.

-He will not accept any form of payment from you, he pays for everything and he doesn’t mind.

-Honestly the only payment he wants is a hug and that you love him, that’s it.

-You know how online stores have like a ‘recently viewed’ section?

-You don’t :)

-Why? Cause Emmet takes one look at it and buys everything you looked at.

-Blankets, pillows, beds, bed frames, clothes, food, drinks, housing, furniture, electronics, anything and everything is covered so hush up and cuddle him.

-You want an Alaskan king size bed complete with a company bed frame, 3 inch memory foam mattress topper for it, and a comforter to match? WELL LOOK AT WHAT JUST CAME IN THE MAIL-

-Yeah he just loves you, like a lot, accept his love.

#pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #pokemon fanfic #pokemon ingo #pokemon ingo x reader #pokémon #pokemon fluff #pokemon emmet #pokemon emmet x reader

127 notes · View notes

starandsims · 3 months

Text

It took a few weeks for life to return to normalcy at the Carter house, but eventually, George did come to understand the scholarship Edwin had been offering and apologized (sort of) to Harry for barging in. Rosalie and George both assured Harry that eventually he would get more offers like Pleasantview’s, and it was better to wait and see than make a rash decision with all the pieces before him. They were right, Harry discovered, as more acceptance letters and scholarship offers rolled into the mail.

It wasn’t until the day he got the acceptance letter from Brichester though, that he really believed it. Not only had he been accepted to the University, but he had been accepted into the distinguished program as well! They also were offering him a couple of different scholarships based on his credits, it wasn’t a full ride, but it was close. He spent the next few days agonizing over the decision. Go to Pleasantview with a full ride, or go to his first choice school, Brichester, and have to work harder to pay for it?

His answer was handed to him in another letter, a personal, handwritten one that read:

Dear Mr. Carter, I trust this letter finds you well. I recently received a letter from our mutual friend, Mr. Thompson, your headmaster, and it fills me with joy to hear about your academic aspirations. Your dedication to your studies is commendable, and I believe you possess great potential. In support of your journey, I am pleased to offer you accommodation in my small home near the Brichester University campus. The cost will be a modest 2 simoleons per week, covering the essentials. I have always believed in extending a helping hand to those who show promise, and I am confident that this arrangement will create a conducive environment for your studies. I want to take this opportunity to share something that you may not be aware of. I was the anonymous benefactor who provided the scholarship that enabled you to attend secondary school, again after being informed by Mr. Thompson of your promise and potential. I believe in offering assistance to help talented individuals such as yourself get a foothold on the path to success. However, it is up to you to do the bulk of the work yourself, I will not hold your hand through the University nor offer you full financial assistance. I will, however, offer you a place to stay and an internship as my research assistant while you attend Brichester, should you choose to do so of course. This arrangement would not be without rules, including prompt payment of rent and adherence to a reasonable curfew. I see this as a mutual opportunity for growth and learning. I look forward to your response and hope you consider this offer seriously. Best Regards, Professor Harold Sanders Brichester University, History Department

Harry cautiously approached his parents about the offer, but their attitudes were much more positive to this offer than Uncle Edwin’s. Partly because this wasn’t a relative, and partly because it clearly wasn’t a handout, and George approved of the arrangement suggested, it would be enough to help Harry get started without help from his parents (as they really couldn’t offer him much), but would also still require him to work hard for himself. They told Harry that if he wanted to accept, they would support his decision, but also encouraged him to think hard about all of his offers.

Harry pretended to take a few days to consider it, but in his heart, he had already accepted. Brichester was his dream school, and the more he thought about the opportunities the history program offered, the more excited he grew about the proposition. He would have a place to stay, a job to help him cover expenses, and a foot in the door to a prestigious program. He wrote back to Professor Sanders within the week to accept his generous offer. In the fall of 1910, he would attend Brichester University in the distinguished history program!

5 notes · View notes

fostopia · 5 months

Note

hi............. if you are up to it i would very much like hearing about your ocs

** 11/20/23 edit: IM USING THIS AS AN EXCUSE TO POST THIS

* Funfact! I only remembered about this ask now because my friend asked me about the same ocs and it came to mind so I’m picking the old draft back up

Anon you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into

Fun fact about me dear readers I have over 278 oc’s (11/20 edit: now 347) and counting all are fully developed too. However, we’re gonna focus on the ones I posted previously

The ask to make my day OKAY

BACKGROUND

Was on a whiteboard with a bud and he made the joke about throwing a baby he was holding, I told him to do it and drew ‘C supports baby throwing’ which lead to the "#cforpresident" hashtag being drawn by him. This silly little thing promptly dissolved into a full fledged au because none of us are capable of being normal

There’s three universes sorta associated with this au, and there’s no actual name to it— it just.. exists.

PRESIDENT C

The first version of this character in this AU, C (no real name here, just C) is the President [It’s sorta unconfirmed what the fuck he’s the president of but we kept making the joke of him being POTUS so maybe the canon world in this is just… our irl world.] My man’s Vice President is unconfirmed because my bud Sarah who ‘ran against me’ swapped to swat last second so.. guess there is no Vice President. C had a husband (Ace), got married before he entered office and got unlucky cause his spouse is fucking dead. He’s sorta just tired of this shit™️. In this world monster begins aren’t rare but they’re not exactly accepted, even more so if you look dangerous. C is a shapeshifter with his default look replacing his head with a ball of black matter; it’s an odd substance, as it gives off a look of a black hole but you could literally shove your hand into his face and bam your arm is in a weird kind of pocket dimension (this can only occur when he allows it though, so don’t try it you’ll punch the President.)

His other look, however, is much more human but simultaneously is used far less. That look is defaulted to a demon, and although he can change aspects none are permanently and he’ll always revert back to the demon look Oh yeah President C is morally good but he has cannibalized a vampire-bat shifter so, sometimes his morals are off.

His backstory is pretty sparse, I don’t have any ideas for his family life before presidency; he just showed up running for President and gained popularity real fast. He’s very advanced with his shapeshifting, he can use it to become people and even objects or full animals. His main team consists of Orin, the swat captain, and Sarah, who’s a rank below Orin. Sarah’s very responsible and very underpaid while Orin is horrible irresponsible and uses Sarah’s payment on Panda Express. President doesn’t let that slide when he finds out; but otherwise he has a good connection with them both.

TYRANT C

This one was a ‘what-if’ personality/role swap of the President C au; instead of being the morally good, demon presidents— Tyrant C (still just C here) is the morally corrupted, sheep president. Just like President, he’s a shapeshifter with the base for being the black matter head one; however he generally uses the humanoid sheep one more often as a way to seem more innocent and harmless— like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

He’s fuuucked up, his whole point is gaining power and he’s lucky that the force that follows him is so loyal. In this one he had a husband as well, Zander (Ace’s alternate universe self), however the two married purely for tax benefits, the fact that it would help C’s campaign to be a queer president. They were a tragic case of right time, wrong person. Although both of them had truly loved each other to an extent (C didn’t know what love felt like so he hasn’t realized at the time while Zander was constantly bouncing between love and hate) both of them kept fighting. Tyrant was the one to act first but trust me, if Zander had lived longer, he might’ve killed Tyrant first.

He gets away with it because corrupt fucker, however he quickly finds that he needs somebody else to fill in for the spot that Zander had earlier; somebody to bounce ideas off of— and who better to than his SWAT captain, Orin. Orin is a huge simp. He’s actually responsible here however Sarah’s personality doesn’t swap and instead she just doesn’t like Tyrant too much. So, Tyrant decides to seduce Orin to get him wrapped around his finger because really; if he’s got the swat captain he’s got the power of his team too… yeah no, he falls in love on accident. Then he’s forced to acknowledge that this is what love feels like.

He’s a lot less good with his shapeshifting; only able to shift between his void matter and the goat one with even that taking to much energy as he wasn’t able to use them as he grew. He’s a man cut off from the world, however not from sorrow and guilt the same way President did.

Tyrant’s meant to be much more complex than President; his backstory includes shit like abuse from parental figures, cult shit, and with him having been raised with so much negativity he’s completely convinced that this is how everything has to be. Violence and evil have always been his normal; he was a kid groomed into a mindset that never left until he felt something beyond anger for the first time. He’s fucked up, he’s done some real horrible shit, but he doesn’t know that being good is on the table. He’s at a point where learning to grow won’t do anything to reverse years of trauma and anger. Tyrant has regrets he can never voice due to his nailed in beliefs, he will never be able to fully accept that he had loved Zander, that the king sized bed in his home feels too empty. He can’t acknowledge the way he makes two cups off coffee sometimes, one just the way his fiancé used to drink his. He can never come to terms with the fact that he regretted killing him. He can never accept that he misses his parent despite their abuse, that deep down he wishes he were still their little boy oh so willing to help mom and dad out with their ‘buisness’. Tyrant wants to, really, he does. However, some people aren’t capable of accepting that reality. He grew up within a world that called him a monster, and he was merely giving back what they had started.

#c talks #c rambles #c’s oc multiverse #I LOVE THEM #twins au not included bc lazy

2 notes · View notes

rontra · 1 year

Text

this ask/reply is long so im just putting it together as a textpost help me shark if you're out there

Anonymous asked: hi ok im super super sorry if this is bothering you but ive been meaning to ask it for like 6 months or something . i was introduced to your work via skin game and my brain latched to it ever since i read it. me and some other friends really enjoyed the fic even if it was a short read and i was wondering if youre comfortable sharing chapter 2 either publicly or privately? again im ultra mega sorry if this comes off as creepy or weird or something ive been stressing over it for liek 3 days since i didnt want to bother you :(

either way, love your work so much. your fanart introduced me to both arknights and rwby (though a friend kind of pushed me to actually start watching it lol) and theyre both really great series :) your work is a huge inspiration for me and my friend group and your writing is just insane /pos

(3rd paragraph omitted bc i cant priv reply and im excluding your offsite info even if its under a readme HFDBHJF)

hi shark!! ofc i remember you we are like soldiers side by side in the trenches of takano posting 🫡

so first of all thank you so much for following and enjoying my work 🥰 i'm always happy to help drag people into the arknights/rwby zone HEHEHE i'm glad you enjoy what i make!!! it means a lot to me 😊 thank you!!!

now. THE THING ABOUT skin game ch2. is that it's pretty rough. i had a look at it the last time something prompted me to think about the fic and it's not really presentable (i don't know if i even finished editing it back in ….. 6 years ago… oh god). it also doesn't have all of its art (which might be a blessing in disguise given the art it does have is …. 6 years old… oh god)

getting it to a state i consider readable would take a good chunk of work, which is why i put it off again after looking at it. it's almost 12 thousand words of … uhhh… shall we say… unnnnpolished material. i think i couldn't even share it privately because i would be embarrassed to show someone something so unfinished and janky. not to mention not having all of its art finished. so i got kind of stuck last time and just put it off again bc the amount of work it very obviously needed was like. "Christ OK Not Now" yknow…

it does bolster the spirit when i remember you and your friends. it means a lot to me that you care about it even after so long!!! i just have NO idea when i'm going to get around to editing something of that magnitude @_@ i was really a dummy about chapter lengths back then… HFDBHJGJMK

it's really kind of a shame too becahse chapter 1 and 2 together are sort of the introductory portion for our 2 primary characters. so it feels like only half of the intro is done right now. since ch1 detailed how kyrie ended up at that plaza meeting takano, ch2 would detail how takano ended up there, meeting kyrie. and then we would proceed into the future from there. as a renowned Takano Guy, obviously i was very interested in this, but for various reasons i never finished polishing it and drawing the art…

ch2 also features ikuko so you KNOW its dear to me

overall being like 5-6 yrs old theres a disconnect where i don't feel like ch2 right now is achieving what it should, and i see a lot of concrete problems with concrete solutions, but it's an editing of such Magnitude that it keeps being pushed back in favor of other stuff. oh, ephemeral soul…

some of the art i did get done for it is pretty cute though, like these baby miyos;

so that's pretty good, but i didnt FINISH drawing the art, ARGHH

it is really hard to say. bc when i KNOW there's people out there who remember it and care about it, that does motivate me to return to it. but it has a lot of stuff that needs doing, and is a very old project, so it's unclear to me right now when it would receive the attention it desperately needs before it can be shown to other people... i super can't in clear conscience accept anything like payment/etc for that kind of vague half-promise either, although i appreciate the thought xD

i'm sorry it's such an inconclusive answer, but i am sort of an inconclusive guy when it comes to projects... i jump around a lot as i'm sure you've observed in your time following me 😭 it's important to me to have that freedom, but i do care about SG too, so we just sort of have to see if i can surmount the magnitude of the work i accidentally set up for myself half a decade ago (*turning into stone*)

but it makes me smile when i remember you're out there thinking about this weird little AU. so, thanks. 😌 a soul still burns...

and then after all that CH3 was going to have more of best girl 🥺.....

WARGH <- BEARER OF THE CURSE

10 notes · View notes

doctorwillseeyou · 11 months

Text

First night

For @the-witch-and-her-husbands

Lestat stared at the girl Hannibal had brought to join their family. She had a pretty face and a curvy figure with wide trusting eyes. He glared at Hannibal. He knew his inability to remain faithful to Hannibal had hurt the other man deeply, and for that he was remorseful. He didn’t appreciate Hannibal bringing a replacement for him however.

Hannibal smiled at Jill. “This is Lestat De Lioncourt. My maker and my companion. He lives with me.” Lestat smiled coldly. “Pleasure to meet you, you can have her consider her payment for my mistake.” Without another word, Lestat turned on his heels and ran upstairs to his room slamming the door.

Hannibal sighed and looked to Jill. “You did nothing wrong my dear, he is prone to fits of sullenness when the mood takes him, he will come around soon and you will be friends.”

Jill cast a doubtful look at Hannibal but followed him up the stairs to their room. Hannibal opened the door to reveal two coffins lying side by side.

Jill froze when she saw the coffins. “No!” She said at once, she could feel panic rising, rushing like acid through her veins. “I can’t sleep in there!” Hannibal walked to her coffin and opened it revealing the quilted pillows and blankets beautifully laid out. “My darling, I know it seems frightening, but I assure you it’s very comfortable and the safest way for a vampire to sleep.” Jill wanted to scream and cry, she hated that she was failing Hannibal so spectacularly. “I can’t sleep in that!”

Suddenly the door slammed open. Lestat stood in the doorway staring at the pair of them. “I cannot sleep with so much noise” he said irritation clear. He stared at Hannibal, “she’s scared of sleeping alone. Get into your coffin!” He ordered in a sharp bark.

Hannibal was momentarily stunned, but he climbed into the coffin and got comfortable. Lestat turned to Jill: “I will help you climb in next to him so you are not so alone” Jill hesitated but she didn’t want Lestat to yell at her too so acquiesced.

Lestat gently led her over to Hannibal’s coffin and lifted her gently as Hannibal helped, together they fit Jill into the small gap so she was half laying across Hannibal. “I am sorry we do not have a bigger coffin” Lestat said, “it will be a tight squeeze” Hannibal smiled, “I do not mind”

Lestat sighed and smiled wanly, “now I am off to sleep do not wake me again!” He swept out of the room, silk robes billowing behind him.

Hannibal chuckled softly, “I told you he would accept you.”

#Drabble #enjoy!

2 notes · View notes

stayarmytinyzenmoa-l · 2 years

Note

THANK YOU FOR PUTTING THE STAR CROSSED TAG U JUST READ EVERYTHING AJSBCNCKDKSBDK

mark being the token human friend is just genius

ALSO PLEASE WRITE MORE I WILL LITERALLY GIVE UP MY FIRSTBORN 😭

AHAHAHAHA I'M GLAD YOU LIKE IT ANON LMAOOOOO Now, no worries, I don't accept payments in first borns, but I'll give you a snippet of what I have in my drafts

[HELP ME CHOOSE A WIP TO FOCUS ON GAHHH]

"It can't be anything too bad. (Y/N)'s so sweet," he smiles.

"What, got a crush?" Yeri teases. Mark shakes his head, but the reddening in his ears betrays him. "Hate to break it to you, Mark, but (Y/N)'s married," she laughs. At this, Mark's jaw drops. "You didn't know?"

"I never saw a wedding ring..."

"That's because it's around her neck," Yeri pats her empty chest. "Let's go, best we don't stare, they'll be joining us soon," she hands Mark the box of fruits and gestures for him to follow her.

"Both of them?"

"Yes, (Y/N)'s husband usually comes around after mass to help us out, but I've never seen him in mass, I don't think he's religious," Yeri shakes her head. "But (Y/N)'s rather devout, from what I understand," Yeri nods her head. "Speak of the devil..." she mutters. Just then, the backdoor opens and you and your husband walk into the room. Immediately, Mark does a double-take. With a rather detailed tattoo of demonic wings wrapping around both of his arms, chains around his neck and waist, combined with messy over-gelled hair, Mark almost gasped. That's your husband?! Yeri closed Mark's hanging mouth. "Don't stare." Mark diverts his gaze quickly.

"Hey, Mrs. Smith!" Even his voice sounded unholy.

"Oh! Mr. Lee," the old woman waves her hand. "Hello, dear."

"Let me get that for you," Jeno reaches for the box, but you stop him.

"I got it, these are filled with youth bibles, right?" You ask her, picking up the box yourself with ease. You, on the other hand, were so much different compared to your husband. Always wearing a long-sleeved sweater or turtleneck, your hair always kept neat, and your accessories modest, you were a picturesque church-goer. Jeno only let out a low whistle and Mark pressed his lips together.

"How'd those two meet anyway?" He asks Yeri.

"Not really sure, they moved in here recently while you were studying abroad. But, I know it doesn't look like it, but they really are good people," Yeri says. "They're very sweet with each other."

Jeno, meanwhile, presses his lips against your ear.

"You saved me there, angel," he whispers.

"We're in church, Jeno," your voice had a warning tone.

"Eh, we're in front of it, they always forget to bless the mess rooms," he sports a low chuckle.

"Mmhmm, focus, dear, we have to blend in, remember?"

#asks #anon #star crossed #wip #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #minimal tags since this is a wip lmao #but i wanted to share haha

26 notes · View notes

the-silver-peahen-residence · 1 year

Text

||Do we have a deal Part 3: The first task; spirit hunting, worried demon heirs

Hi dears, I am back with part 3 from the Do we have a deal mini series. We continue to see where this is going to go right now. If you wish to read the last two parts, they are under the chapter tag. But this is a gift for my partner and friend. <3

~~~Chapters~~~~

Part one: Do we have a deal: Sacrifice

Part two: Do we have a deal: Painful acceptance: the tasks

((Your reading part 3 right now))

||Drabble Summary||

Melinda has awoken from her tired state as she finds out she's in Sukuna's domain. He has given her the tasks to what she will be doing during her stay here in the two months. The tasks seem simple but she even has to pay for every two demon moons of blood payment. Now she's enduring the first task. Meanwhile, the devils are speaking with the fraction leaders since they were hoping to be informed of what happened to Melinda. Wanna know what? read to find out.

||Warning||

~Blood will be present

~Torture is spoken of

||Guests in the Drabble||

Jaron Jackal belongs to my rp friend/partner @demon-blood-youths along with some of the DBT members and the fraction leaders with their teams. Along with some of the devils as well.

Melinda brooks belongs to me along with some others from the cursed vixens is present. Along with some of the fractions and their teams. Some of the devils belong to me too.

Sukuna ryomen (Demon au) belongs to me but comes from the anime jujutsu kaisen

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble. It was written for fun so please understand. Thanks for that and hope you like.))

~~~~The Next Morning~~~~~

After the fractions got some sleep after yesterday's little scare, the DBT was trying to keep a calm expression but they knew Jaron still was hurt. He didn't even come out of his room this morning since he had trouble sleeping. The others had to make breakfast while Maggie was hoping he would come out to eat. She goes to check on him while knocking on his door.

"Jaron are you awake in there? Breakfast is ready if your hungry." She got no reply but it might have told her he's still sleeping. However, she did leave a note for him in case he did. For now, he just sits to look silent hoping and praying Melinda was alright.

Maggie returns to see the others look up at him but Ink sees her sit down. "Well?"

"No. He didn't answer but I don't know if he's still asleep or awake. Even so.....I feel he didn't get any sleep last night." she said for the other members to be silent.

"But can you blame him? I mean, after yesterday..he just....shit." Navarro looks down but Maggie looks to him.

"Language Navarro." she said seeing him look but waving his hand.

"Right, sorry. I'm just worried about him. He's never like this when things are bad but....you can't say we all are not worried about her. She's our friend and.." he started to say but Ophelia and Oblivion looks to him then sees the others looking to stop eating.

"We know..but remember, this is more painful for Jinx and her team. She lost a team member and is dead worried thinking of what Sukuna might do. If he's able to keep his part of the deal it's fine.....I'm hoping." Rust said.

"But we don't know that. Sukuna is sneaky and dead on black hearted Rust. He might keep his end or he might change it. Or become sneaky and break it. I just hope Melinda holds on for everyone till she returns to us. That's what we can only do." Fosh said worried but the DBT looks silent wondering what to do. That's when something taps on something.

Ink blinks to look seeing a bat flying around. Wait, that's one of Senkai's bats! What what he wished to speak about.

~~~Meanwhile in the demon realms with the devils~~~~

Vanity was quiet, seeing the others worried since Yen was more worried about his heir. He couldn't really stay calm knowing Sukuna has her in his palace. The others didn't know what to say to Yen seeing him pacing left and right.

"Mr. Yen. Please, you have to relax. I know that Miss Melinda will be alright. She's not weak and you know that-"

"I know, I know...I can't help shake the feeling of worrying about her. She's my heir and the next in line. And..she's the very first female heir I had since the others I had were boys before their passing." he stops pacing to look at the window where the multi glass frame was seen showing the light from Vanity's domain world.

"Well, we don't know that do we? Even if Sukuna is keeping her due to some deal, it's rather shocking to say the least. Seeing he's trying to have some 'tasks' done or something." Caym was sitting but he was looking at the other devils who was thinking about it.

Uriprayt sighed but she was worried as well. "To be f..fair, we didn't even know sukuna was able to do such a thing and taking a heir from the human world. But it makes another worry if he's able to do that..what's stopping him from doing that to the others?" she said worried about Rust.

"She's right. Even if we all don't interfere with our heirs lives, it seems now we are getting involved in things because of him." Oski adds in as the devils looks silent but Yen was more worried but he looks seeing another devil walk over.

"Is something wrong, Illyius he asked to see him sigh but look at Yen.

"I'm just as worried as you but I wish I can find a way to thank your heir for saving my heir's life. Who knows? If they get older maybe we can arrange something for that thank you. I wasn't expecting that type of scare before.....even if he has been close to dying..that was too close." he looks at Yen who was quiet to look ahead but he felt the devil's hand on his shoulder.

"Like we all will say, she'll be alright......" he said but Yen sighed to nod.

"Thank you..." he said. As the devils was about to look ahead, Miss Madam shows but looks.

"Is something wrong Miss Madam?" Cal asked but she looks at them.

"No. I just got word that one of Senkai's bats got to the DBT in New York. They are awaiting to speak to you all." she said.

"Good. Lets go everyone." Vanity said seeing the devils going to do that.

~~~~Meanwhile in Sukuna's domain~~~~

Today was the first task but Melinda was looking at her arm where her demon mark was. Sukuna has given her some binding on her arm like a contract but it was to be for only two months. It looked...disturbing like it was making her arm vein like but she looks away from it. A silver bracelet was also seen but it had a blood red gem on it.

"S..so you wish for...m.me to try finding one or some of these lost s..spirits f..for you?" Melinda wanted to be sure if that's her first task with Sukuna crossing his arms looking at her.

"For the third time as the other two times you asked me; Yes. Now, I know you never have done something like this but your a smart girl, you'll figure it out. Now, outside of my domain are the lost spirits that linger in this world. However, the ones I'm looking for are hidden in that thick pocket. I could find them myself but I don't have the gift of soul sensing like you.."

"..S..soul sensing?" she asked.

"The ability to see and track down souls, spirits, and other spiritual like things in the human world and here. It's something like your little viper friend can do but she reaps the souls. But you...your able to find them and even have them guide you. So it's mostly like summoning familiars of different kinds. However, your going to find a few I need for me." he looks seeing Melinda nervous but looks at the wall or barrier of his domain. She can hear the souls crying out there and it leaves her skin forming goosebumps.

"....B..but I don't know if I'm going to be able to do that....even if I could, how will I-"

"Stop being like that. I know you can..you have that power to do so...and your going to use it to find them. It's not that hard you just need to focus on the energy and summon them. Simple."

"But a..again, I don't have a clue to who I'm l...looking for. So how will this-" That's when Sukuna shoves something in Melinda's chest almost knocking the wind out. She winces to feel some parchments of paper to look down. Demonic text with pictures. She slowly looks at them to see a few he wanted to find. She's never seen them before but she got some light description of who was how.

"........"

"Now, like I said silver bud. Your going to find these guys for me and be sure you do it right. You don't wanna end up summoning the wrong thing now." He warns now but Melidna was scared to look at the pages to carefully focus on them and make them float on the side. She wasn't sure how to even do this but she could try maybe?

She still was nervous but she slowly held her hands out while closing her eyes. Melinda begins glowing a light silver color, feeling some of her clothes moving within her power along with her hair. She was starting to do this but a silver circle forms around her while she was trying to 'find' this spirit. Silver flames shows around the two as it forms a circle that seems like some doorway but two silver lung dragons were forming around her like spirits. Sukuna watches and sees the doorway but wonders if she got it right.

To answer, he sees two claws reaching out but he looked a bit silent that Melinda gasps seeing she summoned some beast!? She quickly stops but saw the monster crash to the ground roaring at the two. Melinda was ready to stop it but Sukuna flicks his hand to cut it in half. Blood spilling everywhere and seeing Melinda jump back startled.

"....!?!.."

"Tch; wrong little silver bud. Seems your too into using the first stage of your telekenesis...you can go beyond that." he said walking over as Melinda was sitting to look nervous. What was he talking about? She sits up about to ask but he grips her black hair making her wince.

"Oww!"

"Get up already and try again!" he said as she feels him let her hair go but she stood up and tries again. Sukuna watches seeing her doing the same thing but he keeps stopping her and making her continue over and over for a while before 3 hours passed. Melinda was trying again but only summons another beast that Sukuna kills that one.

"WRONG! WRONG! WRONG!! Damn it silver bud are you really just scratching the surface here!" he said as she was panting bending over a bit to her hands resting on her knees. Melinda didn't get it. She was doing what he said and trying to find the spirits. What is she doing wrong!?

"I'm s..sorry I am trying to do how you say. I don't know-"

"Well, your doing it wrong over and over again! Your smart little silver bud! Make it work!" he shouted at her.

"But how!? You didn't show me anything or what I have to do! I'm trying to find the spirits your asking f..for but I keep summoning those monsters!" she said glaring with her eyes looking at him. "IF YOUR THAT EAGER FOR ME TO FIND THEM THEN JUST TELL ME HOW OR SHOW ME HOW TO-"

Suddenly a loud smack was heard that echoes through the area. Sukuna's hand was raised but he looks quiet seeing Melinda on the ground but she was looking down feeling blood running down her chin. He slapped her but she winces from the sting. Her silver eyes were wide but she was holding her cheek to look at him.

"Don't. Raise your voice at me you little bitch. Your lucky I won't kill you for that......besides, you are able to summon things so that proves your not a total loss. However, as I said, your able to summon who I need." he walks over as she tries to move away but grabs her hair to lift her up as she winces in pain.

"Lets get one thing straight. You are to listen to what I say right? I won't tolerate you raising your fucking voice at me. It's not that hard to find spirits but think about it. Your a physic user....I get you been using Telekinesis but..your so much more than that. Your able to do more you little bitch.." he warns but he sighed to throw her to the ground as she coughs as he walks over to look at her.

"Since you wanna raise your voice, I think you need to be punished for it. We can continue this later." he said to grab her hair and force her up. Melinda was forced to follow him back to his palace where she was going to be punished by him for a while.

~~~~~~~~~In the real world: New York City~~~~~~~~~~~

"So you haven't heard from her at all?" Ink asked seeing a floating energy orb in the middle of the living room since she along with the DBT and the fraction leaders were in a video call with them right now. The bat was stretching it's wings as it was eating something given to it.

They heard about what happened to Melinda and hoping she was alright with that monster Sukuna. The devils were silent but Vanity sighed to speak.

"I'm afraid not, Ink. So far, Sukuna has kept Melinda with him at all times. Even if we wanted to, he won't allow anyone else to visit his domain unless 'we are invited.' To say in short, we have no idea what is going on right now...." he explains as the leaders were looking down.

"But...how is that even possible? You guys are connected right? So how was he able to do that?" Fin asked from his screen worried.

"We don't know. Sukuna is a lot more powerful than we thought he was if he's able to do this. We are trying to find out what we can and what the status is with Melinda but nothing has come up. He's keeping us in the dark as of right now." Leonado explains with arms crossed, seeing the other heirs worried now.

"..I know this looks like it's bad but remember, we are doing what we can to find out what we can. Yen is already worried about her but we are trying to find out what he's doing." Orochi explains to the group with Nagi agreeing.

"But what if something happens? Sukuna is not really easy to trust you know. Not after what he did to us the last time he-"

"We know Kali but again, he is a demon now but he still has his rules. He's cunning I'll admit but we already know how he's going to be since he's a demon." Ira said.

"Even if he's a devil like us..." Kukuclan said to the heirs.

"He's still dangerous in his own way." Onibi said after him.

"As of now, we are on stand by but if he did try anything we will inform you. But for now, were being left in the dark." Goa hisses but she looks to the heirs now being silent. However, Jaron's devil, Illyius looks around but looks to Ink.

"Van Ink correct?" he speaks as she looks to him. "Where is my heir? He's not there with you?" he asked but Ink sighed to shake her head.

"No, he's in his room. After finding out what happened to Melinda, he's been really upset about her being in this situation. He might be still asleep but...he's taking it really hard right now." she explains that he looks to be silent and sigh.

"I see.....Well, if he ever does come out of that room, he has to stay strong for Melinda. I can see he really scares about her but if he wishes to see her again, he has to still know she'll be safe." He explains but the devils looks quiet.

"Even so, we will have to go. We'll keep you all up to date if anything comes up." Vanity said as the devils were about to leave. However...

"And Miss Van Ink?" she blinks to look at Illyius.

"Yes?"

"If my heir comes out, I wish to speak to him when it's possible. I'll be able to contact him when I can but for now, I'll leave him to his thoughts. "

"Uhhhh yes of course..I'll be sure he knows." she said seeing him nod.

"Good. Till next time young ones." With that the communication was done with the orb disappearing to leave the fraction leaders quiet. Now that came the question, what will they do now? It's too early to say but they were hoping Melinda was alright.

~~~~In the Demon world: Sukuna's domain~~~~

He was looking at the demonic pages again while seeing he was sitting on his giant throne made of ox skulls or redesigned into a throne. He loves it better this way. He looks annoyed but bored after he gave her his punishment. Well, at least he was able to get a little snack.

"Seems I'll have to try something else later. In a few more weeks she might get it. Or maybe I should have hit her a bit more harder. She gets it but isn't getting it. I'm sure Yen will not mind..knowing him.." he sighed but was eating some demon meat that he rips off the bone. Some of his followers were serving him but the others were causing chaos in other areas.

"Sire, what are you going to do with the girl? You beat her pretty badly today but I take it she failed the first task-"

"She did. She will learn in due time but it just takes a while. I know she'll get it but I guess for now, she isn't getting it. Maybe that will go with teaching her something basic...."

"..Shall I wake her?" he asked but Sukuna laughed to close his eyes.

"Let her sleep. She'll keep those scars as a reminder anyway, besides I did say I would be the first to mark her before he got that chance. That's just one of the many others in the future. For now...let her sleep. It'll help for a bit..Now I'm excited about my next blood payment too......." he snickered with a sick grin on his face.

As for Melinda, she was knocked out on her bed but she was shaking in her sleep. Her back along with her arms were covered in blood. Seems he beaten her but she was healing.

Some of the healers were in the room to carefully see the bad gashes in her skin but they will leave scaring. They were told to let her heal herself but they just remain there in case she woke up. For now, it seems this was going to be a long two months.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #Do we have a deal part 3: The first task; spirit hunting #worried demon heirs #The DBT #the fractions of NYC #sukuna ryomen #the devils #demon-blood-youths #peahen writer #demonic deal au

2 notes · View notes

beelzebby666 · 1 year

Text

Accepted job with the place that maybe probably sucks but it's income (and I have another interview and a job I'm waiting to hear back on so cross your fingers for me)! Also a dear friend helped me cover my ticket cost for the month so now it's just hoping I get back paid for what time I filed unemployment so that I can pay my car payment and begin paying people back who've given me loans for big expenses. 😭❤️

2 notes · View notes

tlbodine · 1 year

Text

I posted 932 times in 2022

140 posts created (15%)

792 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@feralgoblintea

@headspace-hotel

@bitegore

@derinthescarletpescatarian

@quasi-normalcy

I tagged 187 of my posts in 2022

#horror movies - 42 posts

#writing advice - 29 posts

#writeblr - 21 posts

#horror - 18 posts

#youtube - 16 posts

#i love this - 15 posts

#horror remakes - 13 posts

#horror new releases - 12 posts

#publishing - 12 posts

#asks - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 69 characters

#someone remind me to add these to the server when i’m back on desktop

My Top Posts in 2022:

When you start writing a story, there are a ton of decisions you need to make -- what tense you'll write in, what POV you'll choose, and how the narrative voice will interact with the characters and events on the page.

These decisions can be daunting, and they're something a lot of writers struggle with without knowing what's wrong or how to talk about them. In this guide, we go deep into the nitty gritty of perspective, from the pros and cons of different types of POV to the grammar of verb tenses and the magical power of narrative distance to hook a reader.

Buy here: https://tlbodine.gumroad.com/l/ymhos

58 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

It occurs to me...

...That some people find I’m Thinking of Ending Things pretentious because the inside of their head is not a relentless series of hypothetical conversations that weave spirals between “philosophical debate,” “showtunes that get stuck in your head,” “painfully embarrassing memories” and “self loathing.”

Cannot relate.

82 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

Lessons Learned at My First Book Signing

Step One: Find an Event

Don't get too deep in your own head about things. Don't self-reject from opportunities. Kick imposter syndrome in the teeth and just do the thing.

Step Two: Set Up a Table

A few tips:

Don't put out all your books at once. Leave most of them in the box and tuck it under the table or somewhere. Fewer books, artfully arranged = implied scarcity. And it just looks nicer.

Scatter your business card/swag around the table. Consider leaving out a dish of candy. Freebies lure people into stopping.

Put up a sign with pricing. I used a small whiteboard from the dollar store and doodled on it when I got bored.

Try to have a little flair. Keep it on-brand with the type of stuff you're writing. The goal here is to be eye-catching enough that people want to come see what you've got going on.

Step Three: What You'll Need

If you're going to attend any kind of author fair or signing event, I recommend the following:

See the full post

267 notes - Posted September 18, 2022

Trans Horror Authors

My January reading challenge is to read a book by a trans author. Luckily, there are many out there to choose from! Here are some who write in the horror genre, because that's my area of expertise. If you know of others, whether in horror or other genres, reply with your recommendations!

In no particular order...

Caitlin R. Kiernan

A genderfluid Irish-American paleontologist who also writes spectacular cosmic horror, what's not to love? They've been repping queerness since the 80s and have a robust library to choose from, so you're bound to find something you'll like!

Poppy Z. Brite

Billy Martin, whose work is published under the name Poppy Z. Brite, was a big name in the Gothic horror scene of the 1990s and continues to be a frequently-recommended author, although he doesn't publish as much horror these days.

Julya Oui

A Malaysian trans woman and prolific short story author. She has several collections out that you can browse, if short stories are your speed! Maybe start with Taiping Tales of Terror, which draws heavily on her native folklore and influences.

Rivers Solomon

A nonbinary, intersex Black author now living in the U.K., Solomon has three books out and they all look spectacular. Their books lean more toward sci-fi/fantasy, but their newest title Sorrowland looks to be pretty solidly Gothic as well.

Gretchen Felker-Martin

Trans woman, film critic, and unapologetically outspoken. Her best-known book is Manhunt, a post-apocalyptic horror tale that doesn't pull any punches. She's got another new release slated for 2024 to keep an eye on.

Hailey Piper

One of the most prolific authors I can name off the top of my head, Hailey also has several novellas out in the world + a few novels. If the intersection of queer fiction, body horror, and cosmic horror sounds like your thing, you can find something in her backlist. Also she's here on tumblr, go learn more at @haileypiperfights

Eve Harms

A bit of a new player on the field, but well worth checking out. Eve is a Jewish trans woman. Her debut novel, Transmuted, is a breathless body horror romp. She also makes a bunch of handmade zines, which I just think are neat :)

Natalie Ironside

One of Tumblr's very own better-known names, Natalie is queer, disabled, trans, hilarious, and author to at least three novels I can think of plus some other stuff too - go scope her out on @natalieironside for the details.

.....I know I'm missing a ton of people but these were the first ones that came to mind. I have to get back to writing, but I hope this inspires y'all to pick up a book you haven't read yet, and to add to my list down in the notes.

Happy reading, y'all :)

445 notes - Posted December 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Pro Tip: The Way You End a Sentence Matters

Here is a quick and dirty writing tip that will strengthen your writing.

In English, the word at the end of a sentence carries more weight or emphasis than the rest of the sentence. You can use that to your advantage in modifying tone.

Consider:

In the end, what you said didn't matter.

It didn't matter what you said in the end.

In the end, it didn't matter what you said.

Do you pick up the subtle differences in meaning between these three sentences?

The first one feels a little angry, doesn't it? And the third one feels a little softer? There's a gulf of meaning between "what you said didn't matter" (it's not important!) and "it didn't matter what you said" (the end result would've never changed).

Let's try it again:

When her mother died, she couldn't even cry.

She couldn't even cry when her mother died.

That first example seems to kind of side with her, right? Whereas the second example seems to hold a little bit of judgment or accusation? The first phrase kind of seems to suggest that she was so sad she couldn't cry, whereas the second kind of seems to suggest that she's not sad and that's the problem.

The effect is super subtle and very hard to put into words, but you'll feel it when you're reading something. Changing up the order of your sentences to shift the focus can have a huge effect on tone even when the exact same words are used.

In linguistics, this is referred to as "end focus," and it's a nightmare for ESL students because it's so subtle and hard to explain. But a lot goes into it, and it's a tool worth keeping in your pocket if you're a creative writer or someone otherwise trying to create a specific effect with your words :)

26,119 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

5 notes · View notes