#learning to write

[whispersinthequills]

Just Another Saturday Night…

“She doesn’t need makeup,” Happy thinks to himself as he watches you get ready for the club party. A beer in one hand and a joint in the other as he sits on the corner of your bed. He would never tell you not to of course. You needed to look good on his arm, you’re his Ol’ Lady; but he preferred you without, bare skinned and buck naked. Shut away from the world outside where he had your undivided attention and he could keep you safe from harm.

Hes been watching you for twenty minutes now and you’re still not finished. Hell, you hadn’t even started on your hair yet and that was a whole other world of over complication. You were currently working on a thick swathe of black eyeliner that came to a sharp point at the outside corner of your eye and the concentration on your face is adorable. Occasionally you’d stop and tilt your head as you examine your work with a critical eye then begin again, fixing some imperceptible imperfection that will be running down your face in a few hours anyway.

Forty minutes in and you release your hair from the comically large rollers and begin to style your hair. Again, you didn’t need to. A messy bun, piled haphazardly on your head with wispy tendrils framing your face was his favorite but of course you would rather die than be seen like that. Especially not in front of the club girls. Fuck no, he smiles. You needn’t worry about them, they couldn’t ever compare to you.

An hour has gone by and still transfixed; he watches you stand and drop your robe. His cock twitching to life in his jeans when you walk over to the bed, tits bouncing and hips swaying as you approach. His posture changes as you arrive, he sits up a little straighter, caressing your hip as you pass by and begin to dress in the clothes you had set out and judging from your outfit; skinny jeans and a cropped tank, tonight was gonna get messy.

“Can you fasten this for me, Babe?” Her voice brings him gently from his reverie and he stands and takes the silver chain from your hands, the electricity of your touch still rushes straight to his cock. It's why you still have a hold on him. He fastens the cool metal around your throat and revels in the sense of pride that puffs out his chest when he sees his name on the pendant. You’re his.

You finish dressing and look yourself over in the mirror and he shakes his head as you start tweaking your hair and makeup again and he rolls his eyes and walks towards the door. He waits, leaning on the frame as you finish off. The last thing you do before you head out for the night always makes him smile. You check your phone case and make sure you have cash and your atm card stashed then you stuff it into your left bra cup, in the right goes your dab pen and your front door key. As you reach the front door you stop again and check the mirror, spraying a liberal amount of his favorite perfume on your neck and chest before he drags you out by the wrist to his bike.

[idkagoodonesoanythingiguess]

Tbh I’m too scared to post on ao3.

Sometimes I wished that I started younger so I can build a thicker skin and have more writing experience instead of starting as an adult with responsibilities.

Like I know it’s never too late and it’s basically like a passion thing, of course it’s a passion thing, one don’t just write few thousands words untill 4 am on a weeknight without passion

But still!!

[girlsfirstplaywright]

"What's poetry? It's not real but maybe it's more than real. It's dreaming while you're awake."

- Caryl Churchill, 2008, Plays: 4

[whispersinthepines]

The Graveyard Shift

Part Three (Smut)

Part One Here

Part Two Here

He sat up and passed his palms over his face as he gazed out the windshield into the night and exhaled loudly, “Nah...I'm ok, Darlin’. You?” He glances at my shaking hands and leans over to gently pry the gun from my white knuckle death grip, placing it on the dash in his eyeline and within easy reach should he need it.

Her eyes quickly scan his body looking for blood, not quite believing that he came out of the fire fight unscathed, “Oh, thank fuck. I thought for sure that you…that they…No. I’m not hurt….Oh my God…I just…I killed somebody…” She was starting to ramble as the adrenaline wore off, her wrist hurt and she began to notice the sharp throb caused by the kick back.

He turned to her shaking his head emphatically and tried to stop her train of thought before it overtook her, “Hey, hey come on…it’s ok. You did good. You did so fuckin’ good! You saved my life…and yours too. You think they would have let you go? Nah, Hun…they don’t play like that…bastards would have tapped you in the head like it was nothing.” His eyes seemed to look at her differently, with a hint of vulnerability that she hadn’t seen before. “I need to call this in, ok? I can leave out your part…if you want? I can say you were in the truck and you didn’t see anything.”

With a nod she agrees to keep what had happened tonight a secret just between them, not knowing what the club would do if they knew she had done something she had no right getting caught up in. Or what the retribution would look like, especially since she didn’t have the level of protection that Juice had. “Who were they, do you think?”

“Fuck knows. If we’re lucky it was just a couple of junkies trying to rob us. I'm thinking it was AB though. We’re beefin’ with em’hard right now…I’m sorry…Sorry you got involved, sorry you had to do…that.” he adds with a shuddering sigh, knowing all too well how it will stain her soul, wake her in the night and haunt her quiet moments forever.

Juice takes out an old flip phone and calls someone, Chibs, it sounds like and they talk for a while as she sits there quietly listening to him telling the unfortunate tale, thankfully omitting any part she had played in it and gleaning from it that a car is being sent for them. When it arrives Juice tells her to wait in the truck as he gets out to discuss the next steps with a couple of Sons and she feels slightly unnerved when he gestures to her and they look over but she needn’t have worried as they merely exchange rides and part ways.

The whole drive back is silent and when they arrive at the garage they sit for a while, tired yet grateful to be coming home. The sun is coming up and it's hard to believe how fast it all happened. One minute you’re complaining that you’re bored the next…well…you wish you were still bored…because some things you can’t ever take back. Some things though, she can; and she fully intended to.

“Hey, j? She begins, “I'm sorry for being a dick to you in the office earlier, it just came out before I even thought. I know I'm an asshole but right then I really didn’t mean to be.” She lets out a shuddering sigh and leans her head back on the rest, her eyes closed. Apologising was not her strong suit but it was something she could get behind working on.

“Don’t worry bout’ that shit. I got thick skin. An if I ain’t used to you by now...”he chuckles and attempts to wave away her apology but she doesn’t let him.

“No. No…I can be a cold ass bitch. I just want you to know that out of everyone I kinda…feel like you deserve it the least…” Her words are grudging but heartfelt and it shows, “If you’d have…” she trails off as a wave of emotion threatens to take her out.

Juice had the good grace to look away, giving her a moment, “Look. I ain’t gonna forget what you did for me tonight…you need anything, i'm your man. Always…” When he looks at her again it's almost shocking and it takes him a beat to react. He tentatively reaches out and wipes the tears from her cheeks and pulls her into a much needed hug.

“Shhh…I gotcha.” He whispered as he held her tightly, his hand rubbing her back in slow circles as she sobs into his shoulder. He holds her for as long as she needs, swaying her gently and not letting go until she pulls away. He cups her cheeks and presses his forehead against hers, “You are a pain in my ass, Princess,” he smiles sadly, “but I am damn glad that you were watchin’ my back tonight.” Juice was done waiting. Done thinking that he wasn’t good enough for her. Done making excuses to not bring her in and never let her go. He was claiming her as his, pure and simple and it was happening right now.

Gazing into his deep smouldering brown eyes, her breath mingled with his and the air became infused with need. A need for comfort and safety and above all a need to be utterly enveloped in his strong arms. She pressed her tear damp lips to his in a soft yet desperate kiss which he gently returned. Cupping the back of her neck he pulled her in, slipping his tongue between her parted lips as he tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Long, languorous and intimate, every lick of his tongue stoked the embers of her arousal. When they part for breath, their lips still touch, betraying the deep attraction that they felt for each other.

“Fuck…nothing quite like a brush with death to light a fire under your ass, huh?” Juice whispered, “You sure about this? You’ve been through hell tonight…you want me to stop, I’ll sto-”

The little growl he made when she pulled him back in went straight to her core. Spreading an aching wetness through her lips and folds. Mirroring her urgency he lifts her smaller form with ease over the console between them to straddle his lap, fully reclining the seat and taking her down with him. Their tongues press and glide sinuously together whilst Juice's strong hands slide down her back to cup her ass, squeezing the generous flesh and grinding her against his rapidly hardening cock.

The need to feel his warm olive skin on hers is maddening, she pulls off her hoodie and t-shirt and casts the unwanted barriers aside as he gazes up at her, awed by the sight. Hands that had lain on her hips now twitched restlessly as he enjoyed the show that he had imagined countless times in his quiet moments, until he saw those perfect lace covered mounds and he couldn’t resist returning his rough hands to her soft skin. Gliding them up to her waist to cup her firm breasts and test their weight in his hands before sliding them around her back to the fastening of her bra and unhooking it, as she returned her hungry lips to his he peeled it from her body and dropped it with the rest on the worn carpeted floor of the car and filled his hands with their yielding softness.

He kneaded her breasts roughly and teased her pebbled nipples until they ached beneath his touch and made her gasp into his kisses. His open mouth dragged over her skin leaving a cooling trail of saliva down her throat and over her collarbone until he reached her tits licking and suckling each in turn as he groaned his praises.

Yanking down the zipper on his hoodie she pushed it off his strong shoulders and hastily removed his white tank. His body was fucking ridiculous, something far too perfect and precious. So smooth and soft and fuck he smelled so good. He was like fuckin’ art, like a marble sculpture come to life. The friction in her pants as she rolled her damp crotch over his hard on was delicious. Eliciting sexy groans as he lavished her breasts with attention, until he eventually gives in to his throbbing cock and releases her nipple with a wet pop. Juice wraps his arms around her waist and scrambling backwards ungainly they somehow manage to switch positions, clambering clumsily into the backseat until she ends up beneath him. He tugs at her work pants impatiently and removes them, boots and all. Juice doesn't wait, once his belt and fly are open he pulls out his aching cock, pushes her panties aside and presses himself inside her with a bone deep groan.

She moaned loudly and arched off of the seat, widening her legs as much as she could in the confined space. His thrusts are shallow and fast at first, taking her for the absolute joy of being alive. Until the abject pleasure of being inside her takes him and his strokes lengthen and deepen, as do his groans of pleasure when the both of them relax into it. Resting on one elbow, his other hand pulls her thigh to his hip and he buries his face into the crook of her neck and loses himself completely inside of her. In the smooth ridges of that silken fist that didn’t want to let go.

Juice pulls back slightly to gaze at the intense pleasure written all over her face, lit up with ecstasy and a little help from the rising Californian sun. Her eyes meet his and a smile plucks at the corners of her lips, earning her a contagious grin that widens hers, bringing her walls down completely.

Her hands slid down his lean muscular back to grasp handfuls of his toned ass, encouraging him to go deeper as she met his thrusts. It earns her a growled chuckle that is almost lost in the moans of pleasure, wet slaps of skin on skin and clinking of his samcro belt buckle as his hips roll and rut between her trembling thighs. His cock hits and drags against her sweet spot making her eyes roll to the whites, melting her pussy into a creamy puddle that leaked out around his dick. She wasn’t quiet either. Moaning and praising his prowess loudly. There was no one around this early but she probably wouldn’t have cared if there was, he felt too good inside.

He's getting close now, she feels it. Hears it. His brow is furrowed, his face flushed. His jaw set as he tried to hold back. Wanting her to come first before he fills her and marks her as his in the most primal way he can. He gave her a warning look and before he could voice his desperate need his impending orgasm triggered hers and she cried out in ecstasy. Fucking her through her climax and his own and coming inside her without a thought of consequence beyond making her his.

As the waves of intense pleasure begin to wane his shaking arms give out and he slumps atop her body and tries to catch his breath and his wits atop his similarly affected lover. His hand snakes up the back of her neck and tangles in the sweat damp hair of her nape and nuzzles her cheek as they pant for air in the now stuffy space.

They lay together quietly on the back seat. Warm in the afterglow, her fingertips ghost along his obliques as he presses soft kisses behind her ear. His nose brushes up into her hairline and he inhales her sweet scent. “So…ah, you wanna maybe go get a beer sometime?” He whispered playfully, smiling into her hair and biting his lip as he waited for her to answer.

“You asking me out on a date, Juice?” She smiled so hard it made her cheeks ache. She hadn’t expected him to ask and her heart swelled with happiness.

He lifted his head and mirrored her goofy grin, “Might be, you gonna say yes?”

She shrugged and felt her face flush, “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to breakfast, I guess.”

With @midnightlitterateur

[megan017]

ᥫ᭡Learning to write poetryᥫ᭡

|Why does this book exist?|

-------------------------------------------

I love poetry

This may be my therapy,

A thing that sure won't judge me

Where my thoughts can be free.

-------------------------------------------

This book is created by an idiot who really thinks she will ever be able to write poems. But hey, I wanna try it at least.

This book may be mostly about me venting but I might write some happier ones. As I mentioned in the description before, I think writing poetry might be a good co-oping mechanism with bad memories of mine (I don't want to say trauma because I feel like a person who fakes disorders and I am not only NOT one of those people, but NEVER ever want to be). Also, if you are interested in the stories behind the poems I might post them. Warnings will be written in the beginning, hopefully in the right way as it should be.

-------------------------------------------

I hope you won't be dissapointed

In this work of mine,

I want to continue the others too

Just can't find the time.

-------------------------------------------

I actually have time, just no motivation, or when I have the motivation I don't have the mental energy to work on any of my books, only in my head. I swear to God, I want to write an angst and it's already written in my head I just have to actually write it.

If you find any mistakes, no you don't. Okay, actually please tell me if there's any because for example I'm writing this at 1AM/1 in the morning and don't even know my name anymore. I think.

-Megan💙

[novlr]

“You can get help from teachers, but you are going to have to learn a lot by yourself, sitting alone in a room.” — Theodor Geisel (Dr. Seuss)

[aziraphalalala]

Remember when I posted about wanting to start writing fanfic?

Next thing I know, I have a beta, I'm reading someone else's drafts, I'm typing my first sentences, someone's offering me an AO3 invite, and giving me scenarios to practice on.

This fandom is amazing. YOU'RE ALL THE BEST! Carry on.

[itsawritblr]

I'm a professional, full-time, traditionally published author of fiction and nonfiction.

WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING WRITING ADVICE FROM FUCKING TIK TOK?

GO TO THE FUCKING LIBRARY

FUCKING READ THESE

THE ELEMENTS OF STYLE BY E. B. WHITE. This should be your writing Bible.

The Oxford Essential Guide to Writing (Essential Resource Library)

The Classic Guide to Better Writing: Step-by-Step Techniques and Exercises to Write Simply, Clearly and Correctly

The Emotional Craft of Fiction: How to Write the Story Beneath the Surface

Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets A Novelist Can Learn From Actors

The Kick-Ass Writer: 1001 Ways to Write Great Fiction, Get Published, and Earn Your Audience

Steering The Craft: A Twenty-First-Century Guide to Sailing the Sea of Story

by Ursula K. Le Guin

Read this magazine:

Writer's Digest isn't perfect, but it sure as hell is better than anything on Tik Tok. Its website has lots of articles about writing in all genres.

GO TO YOUR LIBRARY. Ask the librarian for the section about learning to write. There are tons more books about writing than just the ones I mention.

If your library doesn't have many books on the topic, look up titles, then ask the librarian to do an Inter Library Loan (ILL). This is when the librarian searches for a book from libraries throughout the U.S. and sometimes abroad. She can get it for you to borrow for free.

If you don't have a library, look for a used bookstore. If you don't have one in your town, search ebay and Abebooks for cheap, readable copies. Doesn't matter if they're a bit marked up; all you need is to be able to read the text.

You can't learn shit from Tik Tok because most of the people giving writing advice are amateurs, or they're self-published, and self-published people are amateurs who don't have to know shit about writing, they only have to cough up $$$.

Please, for the love of writing, learn from the pros. People following the advice of Tik Tok are why there's so much shitty writing in the world.

Remember this: Amateurs don't learn from other amateurs.

[colection-of-chaos]

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Hope and Wating

There had always been a thing about waiting that irked Dillon; it was the way the memory of what he was expecting tended to ingrain itself into his mind. Unrelentingly reminding him of what was to come or what he lacked until it happened. 

No matter what he did, it wouldn't leave him alone. 

His destain for waiting had gotten even worse since he had gotten his last promise. 

It had been on a piece of old paper that he was pretty sure belonged to some book somewhere that hadn't been owned by the person that had written it, but rather some poor library book. A person that hadn't been supposed to be anywhere near Dillon's room or even the town he resided in currently.

No, Auden was supposed to be far away learning the art of pouring over books and being a stuck-up asshole. He was supposed to write notes in one of the unbelievably expensive notebooks and mingle with nobles that had questions. 

Auden had also been supposed to have forgotten Dillon pretty fast after leaving.

Even when he had still lived in one of the most expensive houses in the town, Dillon had honestly expected the other boy to get tired of him every minute. But he hadn't instead ha had listened to Dillon's rants about the last trip into the forest to get some herbs his grandmother needed, had told Dillon about the names of the stars and the former they were supposed to form or about some important person that had lived long ago, the latter of which honestly hadn't particularly interested Dillon, but he had enjoyed listening to Auden, sometimes Auden had complaint about his teachers and how boring some of the things he had to learn. 

Auden also had taught Dillon how to read and write, a thing Dillon would have never thought he would be able to learn. 

Not that there was a lot Dillon would ever have to write or read; most of the people in town were illiterate, and every shop was if there was any writing at all on their signs equipped with some kind of symbol informing everyone about what exactly the shop was selling. And ink and paper were expensive.

But he has figured out that he could get the odd job writing one of the sings or reading a letter to the other people in town which was rather helpful when the town hadn't had enough injuries and illnesses or was generally too poor to spend either a bit of food or the odd coin on his grandmothers services.

Which was a blessing considering that it was not all that easy to live of the odd bit of berries and wild wheat he and she were able to find in the woods, and only living of herb porridge was not particularly enough to get an old woman and a growing boy to make ends meet. Even if the boy had a friend with a tendency to try and share his own wealth with him.

And that had been what Auden had always done tried to get them to make ends meet had acted as if he had just taken too much of the snack someone had given him for longer walkers though the forest and had offered the 'rests' to Dillon instead, because he knew Dillon would avoid taking any alms if he could really avoid it.

It hadn't been hard to fall for Auden. Not because he was rich or well-educated, at least in matters that didn't have a lot to do with survival, except maybe fighting, even if he certainly was that, but because he was kind, and he hadn't just lost his fancy for the grandson of the local herbalist. Even if Dillan wore mostly clothes his father had worn when he himself had been nothing but a boy and his greater interest in life was helping out his grandmother or maybe learning her trade to someday take over.

To Dillon's surprise, Auden had fallen for him too; that was what he had told Dillon at least when he had gotten the note he would be sent away for further studies, unable to keep it to himself any longer.

They had had a couple of weeks to sneak around, in which they had kissed a couple of times, before Auden had left. And the happiness Dillon had felt with him, the freedom of the fear and responsibility that had always lifted when he had been around the other boy with him.

And then two nights ago there had been a page in between his window frame and window, certainly of a book, because he had been able to see some of the lettering through the white paint someone had smeared over it, but more importantly there had been a promise. In the handwriting, Dillon knew so well, had he not followed its appearance so often during writing lessons with Auden.

It was a promise of returning, of being there and making sure no one would ever separate them again. It sounded too good to be true. If Dillon was totally honest with himself, then he had believed Auden had already gotten over his fancy, for Dillon had left and either found another brighter boy of the same sanding as Auden, or he had figured out that another man wasn't actually what he wanted and that Dillon was just some challenge.

But no, there it was Auden's handwriting and a promise that seemed too good to be true.

Dillon hated waiting, even more though he feared that this was just some big miss understanding that there was someone else in the town that the letter was meant for. Not that Dillon would ever doubt Auden's loyalty or the fact that he was the kindest and sincere person Dillon knew, but certainly he wasn't really worth Auden's love. 

This time he didn't hate waiting because he hated the expectation clinging to his mind. He hated waiting because he didn't know if he dared to hope. Because the fear that Auden would chance his mind or that the promise was just a miss understanding was making it hard to focus on anything else.

Note

Hi, I’m back. I sadly had a lot on last week and couldn’t really work with the prompt back than wich annoyed me but now I’m back.

I hope you liked this text I’m still not comfortable with writing love stories but this is what felt wire even if I’m not completely happy with the result.

Hope you have a good week and I would be happy about feed back and constructive criticism.

Hopefully see you next week!

[ahb-writes]

Constructive criticism. Sort of.

(from Disenchantment S1E18: "In Her Own Write")

[blacktosorrow]

Hoped to love....

ORIGINAL STORY

Part 1

"This will be the last love letter I will write to you ,or the first one, if you consider it that way. I want to tell you that loving is not bad, it wasnt your fault to love me and it wasnt my fault for not understand it, I never received love from anyone, wished I could understand this feelings before it was too late, im sorry for the hurt I caused you. I met you when you where a radiant sunshine with a heart of crystal, you met me when I already felt alone, falling in the void. It's not your fault to feel in love..."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

When I was young, I always thought that love was everything for a person, that destiny had planned to cross paths with that one person and that you would be loved and had a happy ending, but as I grew up I realized that… maybe not all of us are destined to be loved. 

I grew up in a loving and attentive family, not everyone had that luck, but I was one of those who did, or so I thought, maybe it was my mind that decided to erase those bad memories and only leave the good ones, my parents gave me the name of light but what is the point of having a name like light if I will never be able to find the light to guide me in moments where darkness predominates.Maybe they wanted me to be the one who finally finds that meaning of life… the meaning they never found.

School was the first step in developing me as a person, and creating connections outside of what I called home. A place where you began to make your own decisions. I met all kinds of people, all kinds of stories, all kinds of connections, all kinds of loves? Friendships….Did i really just experimented some type of love? or just my fantasies? Maybe my fury of finding what I longed for so much was playing with me, after all I don't know what love is, I never experienced it love ,am I allowed to feel loved?

After school, University took over, closing one stage of my life and opening another, a stage in which many consider boring, stressful, and fascinating, your body lose your childlike look but childness is still inside you, it was in this moment in my life when I met someone, someone who I still miss to this day,  my hope, my……..

His name was ##### I met him when I was taking the university entrance exam, when there was only silence, when I was focused on my future, felt his touch, asking to borrow an eraser, his voice low so only my ears can listen.

 After the exam, at the station of destiny he is also there, and with an electrifying touch he searches my attention, and with his open hand approaching me,I see the eraser that I lent him. “Sorry, I forgot to return it, thank you for lending it to me, I really appreciate it,” he said, turning to find his way.

“Hey��� I said before he walked away "What's your name?" I asked

“Matthan” he says, tilting his head while grabbing his backpack “And you, who are you?” he asked

“Im…Light”

[whispersinthequills]

The Graveyard Shift

Part One

“I'm bored, J…” she stated, following it up with a long exhale from her pursed lips as she picked at the threadbare fabric on the arm of the couch. Her gaze was trained on the ancient Pennzoil wall clock, the rust speckled hand told her that it was just past three am, not even over the four o’clock hump yet. Tonight was dragging ass for sure.

Juice was sitting at the crowded, paper strewn desk where he had cleared a small island in the chaos for himself, “You and me both. You wanna play cards or somethin’?” He answered with a weary sigh from behind his computer screen and after draining his second can of Monster he closed the laptop and turned towards her. His beautiful brown eyes looked at her from beneath his hood, deep and soulful with a hint of sadness that never quite left them. Even when he flashed that cute, dimpled smile…it was always there hiding behind the boyish twinkle that lit them up.

Not that she had noticed, of course. Or that she would ever admit to. The guy was ridiculously hot and totally out of her league, she had only just stopped blushing whenever he spoke to her, which was most days because more often than not Gemma paired them up together. Especially since she wasn’t allowed to work with Tig anymore, for obvious reasons. It didn’t help that he was so easy to get along with either or that he always had the best fuckin’ bud. Yeah, Juice was the full package as far as she was concerned.

“Cards, really? How old are you, dude?” She cringed at her tone even as the words came out of her mouth, why was she such a dick? Juice was one of the few guys at the garage that treated her like a mechanic, not just an below average, below notice piece of ass that walked around with a wrench and a bad attitude and she truly appreciated it, the snark was like an instant reflex by now and on this occasion it wasn’t deserved.

He groaned and sat back on the office chair, put his feet on the desk and pulled his hood over his face. “I dunno. Why don't you take a nap?…do us both a favour.” He adds quietly as he crosses his arms over his chest, effectively ending the conversation right there.

An awkward silence fell over the small office. Relieved only by the sound of the tv, that she was pretending to watch, all the while mentally berating herself, her big mouth and the stunning amount of immaturity that she just displayed in front of Juice. For. Fucks. Sake.

Staring at the screen her eyes occasionally darted to juice as he slept. His mouth hung open slightly, the rest of his face was hidden in the shadow cast by his hood. “So fucking cute,” she thought to herself, imagining snuggling up with him on the couch. Faded into her twee little fantasies she almost jumped out of her skin when the phone rang loudly in the small space. Juice bolted up, almost falling out of the office chair as it rolled back. “God damn it.” he cursed as he scrambled for the phone.

She snorted an obnoxious cackle that earned her a middle finger and a grudging smile as he took the call, writing down the details and taking payment over the phone. “We on?” she asked hopefully as he put the handset back in its cradle. “Yeah. Breakdown out on North Road. Needs a Tow.”

Her eyes followed as he stood and stretched his lean body, his clasped hands reached for the ceiling making his reaper hoodie rise and it gave her a tantalising glimpse of his deep v, like an arrow pointing straight to heaven. It made her mouth go dry as every drop of moisture in her body rushed south. If he noticed her ogling he didn’t say anything, he just turned and grabbed the keys to the tow truck from the hook on the wall by the clogged noticeboard that held more family and club announcements than actual Teller Morrow memos and order forms and headed to the door.

“North Road? What broke down, a damn tractor? The only places that far out of town are farms and that weird pack rat house before you get into the hills.” She knew it well as she spent weekends in the foothills on her dirt bike and at bonfires with her friends-but never alone. There was nothing out there for anyone at three in the morning except darkness and the whispers in the pines. Juice just shrugged and walked out the door, so she followed, grabbing her hoodie on the way and locking the door behind her.

“Can I drive? Huh, Juice? Huh?” She pestered, trying to keep up with his longer stride by jogging alongside him. A Smile on her face as she wheedled, “Come on…I never get to drive the truck. Please?” She knew the answer already but it had never once deterred her from asking.

“Fuck no, you can’t drive. Get in the bitch seat Princess.” He opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat, leaving her to trot around to the other side to get in as he turned the key in the ignition and rumbled the engine awake. “You ain’t doin’ no night driving. Clay would kick my ass if anything happened.”

Settling into the seat she pulled on her seatbelt, “Pfft. You’re all a bunch of misogynistic butts.” Reaching over she switched on the c.d player and heavy metal blasted from the speakers as Juice pulled out of the parking spot by the garage and out into the night.

He just chuckled and shook his head as he changed the song and turned it up loud, “You only just now figuring that out?” She wrinkled her nose and declined to answer, instead putting her feet up on the dash and looking out of her window, failing to notice Juice casting an appreciative glance over her legs.

The opening riff of Walk by Pantera began to play over the speakers, their heads nodding to the aggressive beat and soon they started to sing along, punching the roof as they got into the chorus. As they sang and bantered the houses and businesses became fewer and the street lights dwindled to nothing, the road beneath the tires gradually roughened into a neglected state and the only lights were from the sporadic farmhouses that dotted the landscape until the hills picked up and then there was nothing but wild empty dark.

Part Two Here

With @midnightlitterateur

[palepeachnut]

"First attempt at capturing thoughts in verse, a little messy, but straight from the heart. ☘️💗"

[viktheviking1]

I can't wait for the next chapter in your fanfic!!! You're so good at writing!!

Honestly, neither can I! I don't know exactly what's going to happen until I sit down, so I'm looking forward to finishing it. (I'm partway through) And I appreciate it. It's taken me my whole freaking life and a bunch of writing classes, but I finally feel confident and proud of it. I still see some published authors works, and feel a twinge of jealousy, but we all have our styles, we all take the time we take, and looking back on how far we've come is infinitely more valuable than comparing ourselves to others.

Sorry, went on a little rant there. Maybe I'm more reminding myself of it, haha. But maybe someone who reads this can relate or needs to hear it so yeah. Idk

Thank you for the Ask. Have a dinosaur friend 🦕

[theameba1436]

I really wish I could get to 5k soon.....But at least I'm getting close.

I can at least say I'm happy with how it is turning out. Even if teaching myself how to write is giving me a brain aneurism lol

Spit all this pain in my head I will still keep writing. Because I want to get better and write something I truly am proud of for once. I hope everyone will enjoy it when I get it finished <3