#i stg every time you send me a prompt i go 'i should listen to more okkervil river' because EVERY TIME without exception...

[queenofbaws]

here with a music promptfor whatever fandom you feel inspired to write for:

pink slips by okkervil river

By and large, scary stuff just wasn't his bag - never had been. Back home his friends (Kaitlyn included) would flap their arms and cluck when he bowed out, tweaking his nose as they called his raging machismo into question with singsong voices, but he never let it get to him because fuck them, that's why. He knew what he liked and horror just wasn't it, and even more than that, he had a sneaking suspicion the people who willingly subjected themselves to that crap were probably more than a little bit cracked in the head, so no thanks, hard pass, keep it moving buddy.

So how had he ended up here, his head in his hands and his stomach in his feet, the tick of his pulse so off-rhythm he thought he might puke? It didn't make sense, the lodge was still bright with the orange light of golden hour and everyone was laughing, the counselors and campers alike dancing horribly goofy dances until they got too dizzy or tears streamed down their cheeks; he should've been out there with them, striking dumb poses and hamming it up, convincing the younger kids the punch really was made of crushed-up bugs, then turning around and chugging it until they screamed...but he couldn't.

He couldn't, because something about the way the sunlight caught in Emma's hair as she twirled around with two of her campers had shot a bolt through him, clenching everything in his chest until he couldn't breathe around the realization filling his lungs like lake water: He wasn't okay with this ending, he wasn't ready to say goodbye, and holy shit, he'd never been half so scared of anything as he was in that moment.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[waka-chan-out]

SERIOUS QUESTION!!!

How do you write banter so well? I’m trying to write something and it’s a first date thing. How tf do people talk? I’m always awkward and my characters are nothing like me so like… can’t just write what I’d say. But I don’t know how people talk!!! HOW DO YOU DO THIS?!?! Every bit of dialogue you write is always so…. Real. It has tension and reality and just.. WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?!?! How did you get good?? I stg if you say practice I’ll cry because you can’t practice if you don’t even have a starting point. My cursor is currently teasing me with it’s flashing right next to an open quotation mark as words refuse fall on the page. PLEASE HELP!! I’m so stuck and I just want this scene to be cute hsjhfkahfewhfih

well first of all, thank you so much. that’s probably the best compliment i could ever get about my writing. i love writing banter so it’s lovely to know other people enjoy reading it.

i hate to say practice…….but it’s kind of that and kind of not.

i think it’s not just practice but it’s also experience? like i’ve been writing since i was really little but the most dramatic changes with my writing happened when i was consistently writing and reading other people’s in-progress work. i’ve been in a lot of workshops and it’s really easy to pick out who the beginner writers are because there are a few ruts they fall into that are easy to fix, they just need to be willing to listen. here are a few tips that i’ve taken to heart over the years and consistently tell other people.

1. let your dialogue stand on its own. that sounds overly simplistic, but it’s really the most important thing to learn. if i read someone’s work and i find they’re adding multiple punctuation marks, overusing italics, writing in all caps, or using shit like “exclaimed” or “cried out” over and over and over, i can immediately tell that they aren’t confident in their ability to write strong dialogue. your reader should be able to read the speaker’s tone and infer their feelings through what they’re saying, not how you present those words. i know a lot of people give writing advice and tell you to use fun dialogue tags to make your writing more lively, but in a legitimate creative writing class they’ll tell you that that’s the exception, not the rule. if you go back through my fics i guarantee at least 80% of my dialogue tags are just the word “said,” because i try my hardest to write the character’s tone into their words and try not to give myself much wiggle room outside of that.

2. just….read it out loud. i have read so many beginner writers stories and it just……it’s hard to read sometimes because you can tell they were trying to make the narrator the sassiest person on the planet or try way too hard to make them sound clever, and they end up landing in a weird limbo between what a sixth grader would want to say to tell someone off and something no human person would ever think of saying. whatever you write you just want to make sure it sounds relatively natural. i know that’s annoyingly vague advice, but it’s simpler than you think. like if some person in your story is giving the main character shit, you don’t want them to start screaming elaborate insults at them. no human person has ever behaved like that. you want to slow it down and think it through. start off with how you would act in a situation, and then build off of that. most of the time my reader is basically just…..me? like how i would act in a situation? or how someone similar to me would act? but i find the characters quite easy to write because i already have a baseline for how that character would act.

3. on top of that, i usually have benchmark dialogue or action moments set for a scene, so i know i have to somehow get to that. like in my kita “what, do you like him?” story, i already had that line set out for me, but as i was thinking about that scene i came up with other moments i wanted to happen. i wanted to use the line “i always thought you were handsome too” because i wanted kita to get flustered. i wanted some nervous fumbling with a key in a door to happen. and i wanted the reader to somehow end up on a table. so having those story beats laid out made me realize that i have to send the conversation in that direction, and it makes the scene not feel as much like a lawless wasteland.

also, that’s not true at all !! you can always improve and practice no matter what state you’re in. even if you don’t think the dialogue you write is good, it still exists when it didn’t before. that’s something to be proud of in itself. you can start off with a dialogue prompt or a random line you want to include somewhere, and just get going. one of the things i do sometimes is if i don’t know where to start a scene i’ll start it from the very beginning, and then i can shave off the bad, fluffy dialogue that i don’t need when i’m at a point i’m comfortable with.

all of this being said, the best thing you can do is have people read your writing and give you advice based on your starting point. i would genuinely love to take a look at your work and see if there’s anything i can help with or more more personalized tips i can offer. that’s what i want to do for a living and nothing makes me happier than talking about craft and writing and things like that, so i’m more than happy to help. even if you just want to chat over ideas, i’m here to listen and talk. i love this kind of thing.

i miss doing workshops so much. now i wish i could just sit down and do a big fanfiction one. alas, we must continue to communicate online.

[faefictions]

Lonely People | Ch 1

(If you would like to listen to the Lonely People playlist, either send me an ask/message or search for it on my profile!)

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader (slowburn, enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 4,015

Warnings: underage drinking (that’s all for this chapter, but I would just like to state now that this story will deal with some heavy topics later on, such as abuse, addiction, and mental health issues. Those chapters will have those warnings before them!!)

“Y/n get over here!”

She searched the room for the voice calling her name, scanning over what seemed to be hundreds of heads before her eyes landed on her friends. The 2 were standing next to the beer pong table, waving their hands, urging her to come over. 

“Jace needs a partner,” Sierra explained, handing her the ping pong ball as she approached. 

“And why couldn’t you play with him?”

“Because I wanted the best, now get over here,” Jace said, pulling her wrist so she would join him. 

Ten minutes later, y/n had made every shot while the other team had made none. 

“Well, as fun as that was, I think I need to actually drink,” she winked at Jace, before grabbing Sierra’s hand and rushing off to take shots. 

“It’s really good to see you two finally socializing again,” Sierra commented loudly over the music. 

“I told you he would get over it eventually,” y/n replied. 

Just two months prior, Jace had tried to pursue a relationship with y/n, but her reply was less than ideal. Her exact words were that she didn’t “do the whole relationship thing”. They didn’t speak for more than a month after that, creating an awkward situation for Sierra considering their shared residence. 

“I mean I don’t think he’s really over it, he just knows that ignoring you isn’t going to get him anywhere.”

Y/n poured 2 shots, hoping that her best friend would just drop the subject. She had done her best to avoid talking about it for the past two months. 

“I thought you thought he was great anyway, I don’t get why you don’t just give him a chance,” Sierra remarked as she took the glass. 

“How about shut up before I stop talking to you too,” Y/n joked, clinking their glasses together and downing the liquid. 

2 shots later, the girls made their way to the living room of the house, sitting on the couch laughing through another story from Sierra’s childhood. This was their usual Friday night, although it wasn’t unusual to find them drunk at a party any other night of the week. 

The three roommates were all in their sophomore year of college and at that point, it was a miracle that none of them had been kicked out of their university. They all had their fair share of absences, tardies, and failing grades. 

Sierra and Jace grew up in the same town, and went to the same schools most of their lives. They didn’t really become friends until they went to college though. People tend to gravitate towards what is familiar, especially in foreign situations. That was the real reason the two became friends, but their bond became inseparable through their freshman year. 

They had met y/n halfway through their first year. She was at a party with her old best friend and Sierra ended up accidentally spilling a drink all over her. She helped her clean up and introduced her to Jace. That was just the first party of many for the three. Y/n fit in right away, and their friendship extended to make them an inseparable group. 

As they were laughing on the couch, the girls heard Jace’s cheers and laughter. They both turned around to see him running laps around the beer pong table, a sign that he had definitely had enough to drink already. 

“We should probably get him home,” y/n stated, a bit disappointed that she hadn’t had the chance to drink nearly as much as she wanted to. 

They both sighed as they got off of the couch, heading over to where he was still cheering. He was now high- fiving his partner, stumbling a little as he did. 

“Hey Jace, Sierra isn’t feeling too well, we should go.” 

The thing about getting a drunk 20 year old boy to leave a party is that he never wants to go. Without a good reason, there is no way he will depart without a fight. So the girls had a system of getting Jace home. They always lied about one of them feeling ill. If he wasn’t drunk every time they used it, he may have caught on. 

“What a shame, he’s one hell of a partner,” the boy beside him chuckled out.

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? Because as far as I’m concerned, he’s never made a shot in his life,” Y/n snarked, making Jace gasp comedically. 

“I never said he was good, just fun. I’m Tom by the way.”

He reached out to shake both of the girl’s hands. Y/n looked at Sierra as she shook the boys hand, and it was obvious that her friend was smitten.

“I’m y/n, and this is Sierra.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he said, holding eye contact only with Sierra. 

Jace came over to y/n and threw his arm around her shoulders in an effort to keep himself up, causing her to tense.

“You know it’s a good thing you guys are wanting to go, I’m starting to feel like maybe I had a liiittle too much.”

“Ok, big guy, let’s go,” she chuckled, then glanced to her other friend, “Meet us out front?”

Sierra nodded in response, prompting y/n to try to guide Jace out the front door. After a lot of struggling and weaving in-between underage drinkers, they were at the front door. As y/n reached to open it, Jace fell to the floor. She sighed in annoyance and tried to help him up, but he refused to let her grab him. 

“You are the most stubborn piece of shit.”

“I could say the same about you,” he chuckled from the ground. 

She rolled her eyes at his remark as Sierra and Tom appeared at her side. 

“Need some help?” Tom asked. 

“If you can work the miracle of getting him out the front door, be my guest.”

Tom stuck out his hand, and Jace took it right away, sticking his tongue out at y/n as he got up. The girls watched as Tom helped their roommate stumble out on the front lawn. They reached the front sidewalk when Jace suddenly stopped. He stumbled over to the tree a few feet away and used it to prop himself up while he spewed everywhere. 

“We were only here for like an hour. How is he this drunk already?” y/n mumbled to Sierra. 

“I told you he’s not over it. This is just exhibit A. Welcome back to the shit-show.”

A bit of guilt hit her in the chest, but she pushed it away. She told herself she shouldn’t feel bad for not liking her roommate back. At least she didn’t string him along, she told him the truth the second he mentioned his feelings. 

“Hey, mate, everything ok over here?” they heard someone call over to Tom. 

“Oh my God, there’s two of them,” Sierra squealed quietly to y/n, causing her to stifle a laugh. 

Tom told his friend that he was helping the girls get Jace out of the house, and introduced the boy to them. “This is Harrison.”

They all mumbled some nice to meet you’s before returning their attention to Jace. He was now leaning against the tree, luckily his puking had paused. 

“I’m taking the chance between hurls to start walking him home. You can stay here if you want, Si.”

She knew Sierra would have much rather stayed and gotten to know the boys. The expression on her face every time she glanced at Tom really gave it away. 

“I’ll feel like a terrible person if I don’t help you get him home.”

“We live like 2 minutes from here, I’ll be fine. You should really stay. I don’t know that there will ever be a party where you don’t have to babysit Jace again.”

“Hey, I can still hear you,” Jace called from by the tree. 

“Seriously, Si. Stay, and call me if you want me to come back and walk you home.”

Y/n walked over to Jace and put his arm around her shoulders again, helping him stand up. She was almost a whole foot shorter than him, so she wasn’t the best support, but she was better than nothing. 

They got back to their apartment, only having to stop twice for Jace to puke again. As soon as they were in the door, he rushed to the bathroom in his room, too rushed to shut any doors. She sighed at the sound of him violently heaving, knowing he was going to feel like shit the next morning. 

She went to her bathroom cabinet, grabbed some tylenol, and went into his room. She got his water from his bedside table, replacing it with the tylenol, and grabbed a blanket from his bed. Jace was sitting against the wall across from the toilet, so she took a place right next to him, setting the blanket over his legs. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. 

“No problem, now drink,” she said, handing him the water bottle. He reluctantly grabbed it and took a few sips before closing it again. 

“I put some tylenol on your bedside table. Take a few when you wake up, and when you’re done they go in my cabinet. Where’s your phone?”

“In my jacket.”

“Ok,” she grabbed the phone from his pocket and walked to his bed to plug it in. 

“It’s charging. Feel free to come knock on my door if you’re dying, Ok?”

“Ok… Thank you y/n. Seriously,” he was quiet, but she knew he appreciated her. 

“Of course. What are friends for?”

She returned to her room, finally getting the chance to look at her phone. 

She had four texts from Sierra. 

OH MY GOD this Tom kid is my future husband stg

His friend Harrison is pretty cute too. We could double date. Jace would hate it ;)

TOM IS GOING TO WALK ME HOME LATER!! AHHHH!!!

It might be the alcohol, but I think I’m in love

She chuckled at her friend. Their romantic lives were exact opposites. Relationships were the last thing on y/n’s mind, love didn’t matter to her anymore. But to Sierra, EVERY-SINGLE approachable boy was automatically her new soulmate. Going to the mall with her was like going on Tinder. Y/n was annoyed by it initially, but she found it entertaining at this point in their friendship. 

Y/n waited up for Sierra, wanting to be sure she got home safe. When she heard the front door open, she peaked her head out of her bedroom. She heard Tom and Sierra exchange goodnight’s, and watched as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before walking away. 

The blush on Sierra’s cheeks was evident even in the dark, as she closed the door with wide eyes. 

“Ok, for a heartless woman, even I thought that was adorable,” y/n whispered from her doorway. Sierra immediately turned to her, a giddy grin on her face. 

“He was such a gentleman. Those don’t exist around here. I told you, I am marrying him. I have dibs. Every other girl can suck it.”

********

On Monday morning, y/n woke up to her alarm loudly sounding off. She hated Monday’s because she had one of the only classes she cared about. She had it on Wednesday’s too, but skipping parties on a Tuesday was easier with her roommates. But Sunday nights were a little more difficult for her to turn in early. If she skipped class, she would feel guilty, but getting up at 7 am was hell. So when the alarm went off, she got up and threw on some pants and a sweater, bracing herself for the chilly morning. 

She walked into one of her few Photography classes, being 2 minutes early for the first time all year, despite having stopped for coffee on the way. She sat down near the door on the left side of the room, getting her laptop out of her bag and sighing in and effort to ready her brain for the lecture. 

It was a fairly small class, full of Visual Arts majors. Y/n wanted to be a photographer when she graduated, that was the reason she never skipped that class. Even if she got herself kicked out of the university, at least she would have soaked up some knowledge about what she actually wanted to do. 

There were only about 12 students in the class when the professor, Mr. Sullivan, walked in, quick to comment on her being there before him. She wasn’t teachers pet, but she definitely had a relationship with this professor. She wasn’t lacking talent and he was quick to pick up on it. He wished she had better work ethic, but he knew that nothing he said could change that in her. 

After the first few minutes, the full class was there, a measly 16 students. The professor was going over some kind of composition lecture, but y/n wasn’t exactly paying attention. She tried her best to not go out drinking on Sundays, specifically so she could go to her Monday morning class without a hangover, but Jace and Sierra had begged her to go out with them for a couple hours. They promised they would be home by 9 pm, but 9 turned to midnight, and by the time they were leaving, she was about 6 shots in. That was the point where she went over the line between tipsy and drunk. 

So she was definitely hungover that morning, despite drinking a couple cups of water before bed. She tried her hardest to pay attention, but her professors voice was monotone and seemed to fade to the background, her headache the only thing on the forefront of her mind. She grabbed the bottle of pills she kept in her bag, full of tylenol and allergy pills. She took a couple pain relievers with the coffee on her desk, before trying again to concentrate on the lesson. 

Halfway through the hour, her professor finally caught her attention by announcing that they were going to begin working on their midterm. 

“We are going to be partnering with one of my colleague’s Fashion Modeling classes. I want you to make a portfolio as if you were applying to be a fashion photographer. I know that isn’t the field a good chunk of you are interested in, but it’s a good source of income and you might find yourself doing it on the side at times. You’ll all be paired up with a model at the end of class, and together, next week, you will find a few different outfits that our theatre department is nice enough to lend to us. The portfolio will be due on the last Wednesday of the quarter, so you will have about 2 months to complete it.”

Y/n sighed, resisting the urge to bang her head on her desk. She had taken portraits of families and High School seniors to make money on the side, so she knew how the general public was on the other side of her camera, but the one time she had worked with an aspiring model, she wanted to punch the girl’s face in. She was so bossy and entitled, and she openly said that she could have taken better photos of herself. After that, y/n openly hated models. 

He continued on to show different examples of fashion photography from magazines and websites, being sure to go over every single tiny detail of his favorites. 

With about 15 minutes left in class, someone poked their head in the door, asking if his class could join them. The modeling class came in. There were 18 of them, meaning that 2 of the photographers were going to be having 2 models. The only thing that would have made the situation worse for y/n would have been having to work with two models instead of just one. 

“We took the liberty of pairing you up based on prior assignments,” her professor announced before starting to call off the names of partners. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when the second photographer with 2 models was called out, knowing she only had to deal with one diva. 

“Y/l/n, you will be photographing Harrison Osterfield.”

She looked around the room to see which model raised their hand. She was relieved that she would be working with a male model, and when she saw who was raising their hand, she was even more relieved to see the boy she had briefly met at the party on Friday night. He hadn’t seemed too horrible, so she had hope. 

The professors finished calling out names and released the students to meet their models, get acquainted, and exchange contact information so they could begin planning shoots. 

She said hello to Harrison as he approached her, opening her sketch app on her laptop, ready to begin planning shots. 

“You’re Sierra’s friend right?”

“Yeah, y/n,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand. 

“It’s nice to put a name to the face,” he smiled. 

“Here,” she said, writing her name and number on a piece of scrap paper. She tore the excess off and handed it to him with a small smile. 

He entered it into his phone, shooting her a text letting her know it was him. 

“When you have exchanged information, you guys are excused. We will be meeting back here first thing on Wednesday,” the modeling professor announced 

“Y/l/n, stay behind a second,” Mr. Sullivan called out before she could make her way out of the class. 

“Ohhhhh,” the boy sitting next to y/n whispered to her. 

“Oh, shut up, Rob,” she scowled, swatting at his shoulder, causing him to chuckle. 

Y/n packed up her belongings in her bag, and made her way up to the professors, leaving Harrison behind without so much as a glance goodbye.   

“So, y/l/n, we paired you two up for a reason. According to Mr. Reynolds over here, Harrison is the most promising model in his class. He asked me to pair him with my most talented.”

“And you didn’t give him to Robin?” she asked in false surprise, causing the professor to scoff. 

“Don’t be a dumb ass. But since I paired him up with you, that means you are going to be coming to class on time from here on out, right? And hopefully this is the last class you come to with a hangover.”

“Professor, you and I both know I am too young to drink. I would never come to my favorite class with a hangover. How dare you?” she said, sarcasm thick in the entire interaction. 

“They’re going to get along well,” Mr. Reynolds scoffed from the side. 

“I’m serious, y/n. You and I both know you have more potential than you are showing right now. This is my second year with you, and I am not going to go as easy on you as last year. I’ve let a lot of your behavior slide, but I am not going to be like that anymore. I want a perfected 15 shot portfolio from you. Anything less will earn you a failing grade.”

Her smug expression fell, “15? You told everyone else 10.”

“Well, congratulations, you are my most promising student, and I’ll be holding you to a higher standard for this assignment. Show me you can do it and your final will be the same as everyone else’s at the end of semester.”

“Ok, fine, but you better expect an extra photo at the end of my portfolio, a picture of a very specific finger.”

He laughed at her snark, knowing fully well that she was serious. She had turned in a photo just like that for one of her assignments the previous year. The composition fit the criteria exactly, so he hadn’t failed her, and that had started his interest in her as a pupil. 

“I’ll expect nothing less, I’ll see you on Wednesday, Ms. y/l/n.”

She smiled as she walked out the door, ready to go home and fall back asleep in her bed, but the boy in the doorway ruined her plans of that. 

“Wow, you really have some balls,” Harrison said and she passed him. 

“Were you listening to that whole thing?”

“Of course. I heard my name as I was walking out, so I had to eavesdrop. Glad to know I’m the most promising in my class, and that I’ll be working with the best photographer.”

“Oh, trust me, I am far from the best in my class. Sullivan just has some weird obsession with pushing me harder than anyone else. I think he thinks I am a prodigy or something, and he assumes that if he pushes me hard enough I’ll have some kind of breakthrough and become this amazingly famous photographer and I’ll owe it all to him. I would shut that theory down, but he lets me get away with a ton of shit because of it, so I let him think whatever he wants.”

“So if you aren’t this amazing photographer that he thinks you are, should I be worried about the midterm grade?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that. I have perfected the art of giving that man exactly what he wants. We’ll pass with flying colors.”

“Ok, good to know,” Harrison chuckled, “By the way, Tom hasn’t shut up about your friend since Friday night, in a very obnoxious way. Any chance she likes him too?”

“Why doesn’t he ask her himself?”

“Is that a yes?”

Of course y/n knew how much Sierra liked this guy. She had spent the weekend listening to her drone on and on about him, asking why he hadn’t texted back or complaining that he hadn’t shown up to the same parties. It had gotten old after the 17th time she had brought him up, so y/n understood where Harrison was coming from. 

“That’s her business. But if he wants to see her, we’re going to a party tonight. I can send you the address.”

“But it’s a Monday.”

“And?”

“Do you often go out on Monday nights?”

“Day of the week doesn’t matter. You want the address or not?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Ok, well I’m going to go sleep off this headache, I’ll send it to you later.”

She departed their path, leaving him smiling after her. He was amused by her. She was a small girl with the personality of a seasoned bouncer outside a nightclub. Something told him that working with her was going to be a difficult task though. 

Sure enough, a few hours later, he got a text from her. It was an address of a house about 20 minutes away from his shared apartment with Tom. Harrison was in his bedroom waiting for Tom to get home when he got it. He glanced at the message, too focused on the textbook in front of him to actually read it. He knew that if he was going to be going out that night, that he should get at least some of his work done beforehand. 

Tom came through the door, throwing his bag down on the floor in exhaustion. He had 2 back to back morning classes and then a 4 hour shift at work. He wanted to lounge for the rest of the night, but his plans were quickly ruined when Harrison appeared from his bedroom. 

“So guess what I did,” he called with a smug smile. 

“Good afternoon to you too,” Tom replied, collapsing onto their sofa. 

“You know that girl you won’t shut up about?”

Tom’s face lit up, eagerly asking Harrison to continue. 

“I got the address of a party she’ ll be attending tonight. Figured you would want to go.”

“But it’s Monday.”

“That’s what I said. Sounds like you found yourself a party girl. You want to go or not?”

Tom let out a loud groan. Of course he wanted to go, he had a huge crush on Sierra, but he didn’t want to stand up ever again. 

“Fine, when is it?”

“We’ll leave in 2 hours, lover boy.”

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I would love to hear any thoughts/feedback on this! I’ve been really nervous to post this since I have spent over a year working on it, so any kind of love with be MUCH appreciated. Love you all <3