#my friend who i love so much came over and we each made a notebook

[gucciwins]

A Family of Three Grows

A/N: Thank you to the lovely Nonnie who brought back inspiration for this story I wrote in 2020 and last gave an update in 2022. Who knew 2024 would be the year I brought it back. This was fun to write and go back to this family's dynamics. Hope you enjoy, my sweet friends 💜

Word count: 3234

Adore You / Three Time / Leather and Lace / Family / Ask

+

Harry loved his family. 

Y/N and Atticus were everything to him and when Y/N broke the news their family was going to be growing, he was over the moon. It’s something they talked about but never rushed because they had Atticus, their sweet angel who would not stop growing. 

Atticus was the smartest boy. He was the top of his class and loved to read chapter books with Y/N. Each night, they would read a chapter and discuss their thoughts over breakfast in the morning. Harry’s input was asking questions so he could stay in the loop. Harry still remembered a summer day where he went to run errands, leaving them at home reading in bed and came to find them cuddled with ten books laid on their bed. He knew his son valued this time with the woman he called Mum. 

Life had treated them well. Y/N was writing, going to the studio when Atticus was at school. Harry adhered to the schedule and was open to working extra hours. Y/N and Harry were the perfect team. She helped create the entirety of Harry’s house. It was an album he felt captured their life in their own way. The grammy’s that year were a pleasant bonus to round out the amazing year they had. 

Y/N and Harry were in the studio today while Atticus was at school. Harry was in no rush to push out a fourth album. He enjoyed being in the studio with Y/N. It made him fall in love with her all over again. The ideas she brought were something he didn’t take for granted.

Y/N was sitting at the piano wearing her favorite oversized Ferrari sweater. The girl clung to her worn-out shirt, despite its tears. Not that he would ever make her. He had his fair share of tattered shirts in his closet. 

She was beautiful. How lucky he was to have her as his partner for the past five years. Their family is everything he dreamed of when he was a young boy. Without looking, she called for him to sit beside her on the bench. He did so without a second thought. 

“I wrote a song–well, it’s unfinished,” she tells him as she plays the soothing lullaby she wrote for Atticus when he was six years old and was having a hard time sleeping through the night. It’s something she played repeatedly until Atty would fall asleep. 

“Can I hear it?” 

Y/N shifts. She seemed reluctant to reveal it to him. 

“Well, it might not be any good,” she defends, and she pulls her notebook. 

Harry frowns. Y/N being insecure in the studio is unheard of unless it’s something she’s been holding in her chest for a long time and is finally letting it out. She passes him the notebook. There’s a picture holding the place she wants him to read. One look at her is all the encouragement he needs to open up the book and read the first words: For Atty.

He reads line by line and by the time he reaches the last words, there are tears fighting to fall from his eyes. Y/N wrote a song for their song. It’s a rough draft, and he knows she wants him to help her finish it. 

“Atticus knows how much we love him–how much I love him. But I want him to hear this song and know that my love isn’t something that will ever go away. If anything, it’ll only get stronger.” She tells Harry. 

It takes everything in him to not break down because he never expected to be loved this much in life. He expected to be content, but this was beyond anything he could ever dream of. “It’s fucking perfect.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s not even–” 

Harry stops her, reaching for her hand. He brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her hand. “It’s amazing. You wrote a song for our boy. Sure it’s not finished, but you wrote those lyrics calling our sun the light of our life. The reason the world turns. I have never been able to put into words how much he means to me, but you did it.” 

“I love you,” Y/N reminds him.

“Love you, too. So fucking much.” 

“Will you sing it?” Y/N asks. Those beautiful eyes are staring at him and there is no way he can tell her no.

After so many years together, Harry understands how Y/N writes songs. He can see the melody written out. It’s something that frustrates Tyler because he doesn’t pick up on her cues. Harry tells him not to sweat it, it’s something only they have. Something they have as the perfect pair. 

Y/N plays the melody on the piano as Harry sings the lyrics. The longer he sings, the more he feels his throat close up and by the final lyrics, he’s got tears streaming down his face. “I don’t think I can sing it without crying.” 

She laughs. “You’ll have to try. I want us to record it for Atty. Maybe get it on a record for him.” 

Harry gives her a long kiss. “That sounds like the best idea.” 

Y/N and Harry spent the rest of the day in the studio, knowing Atticus was with Anne for the day allowed them the extra time to be in the studio. By the time dinner rolled around, Harry had ordered them food from her favorite Chinese food restaurant. Y/N reminded him three times not to forget her spring rolls. Over dinner, they discussed the song and how they might want to surprise Atticus. Y/N made him promise not to tell him until they could have it produced by their good friend, Tyler. It would take some time, but it would be worth it. 

Y/N had a last surprise for Harry. They were back to sitting side by side on the piano bench when she passed him her notebook again. “There is one last surprise,” Y/N tells him. She flips the notebook a few more pages. There is a paper. He thinks nothing of it until Y/N turns it around for him.

A sonogram. 

It’s a black photo with a small gray blob in the center. Harry isn’t sure what to think. It can’t be true. Can it?

He squints, picking up the paper, and in the corner has Y/N’s hyphenated name.

“Baby, is this?” He gets out.

“What is it?”

“Are we–are you?” Harry lifts his head to meet her eyes that are brimming with tears. “Are you pregnant?” 

Y/N lets out a joyous laugh, one that finds a place deep in his heart. “Yeah,” she confirms. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” 

“Oh, my goodness.” Harry looks back down at the sonogram. He wants to know everything, but all he can do is cry. Y/N stands up from the bench to move closer to him. Harry turns his body, resting his head on her stomach, Y/N settles her hands on his shoulder. She lets one run through his hair as he takes in the news that they are going to be giving Atticus a sibling. Something he would ask for constantly. They were making a dream come true. 

“Hi, little pea. I’m your Daddy.” 

Harry pulls away from Y/N when he hears a loud sob. “I’m sorry,” Y/N apologies for startling him. “That was–I don’t even know how to explain it, but fuck, you’re so amazing.” 

He drags Y/N to sit in his lap. Harry holds her close, rocking her back and forth, kissing her neck, whispering, I love you. This is something they talked about endlessly. Atticus was their boy. They had always said their family was perfect. Whether they added to their family or not, they are happy, but getting this addition into their life felt right. 

Y/N isn’t sure how much time passes, but she is ready to go home and be with Atticus. As they’re packing up, Y/N steps towards Harry, knowing he might be upset with the only downside to the news of her pregnancy. “H, we can’t tell anyone. Not Atticus. Not even Anne.” 

“But love, how do you expect me to resist?” 

Y/N’s smile is sincere. She knows he wants to scream it from the rooftops. “It’s early,” she stresses. “I want us to make sure everything is okay. That we make it past this first trimester. I know that’s asking a lot for you.”

Harry shakes his head. “Not at all, Lovie. I understand. Your health and the babies are important. I respect that.”

She gives him a kiss. “Thank you.” 

“Let’s get home to our sweet boy.” 

They leave the studio with their hearts full. 

+

It’s been three months and Y/N’s doctor gave them the all clear. Their sweet bub is growing at a good rate and Y/N is doing spectacular. No morning sickness, no weird food cravings (yet) and is glowing. Harry was excited because that meant it was time for them to share the news with their family, but most importantly, to Atticus. 

Harry spent the day getting the surprise ready. The vinyl was in a special box ready to be opened and then played. They’d be doing that first, then give Atticus the news. While Harry ran around getting everything perfect, Y/N laid in the hammock in their backyard with Atticus. They each had a book in hand. Atticus at 9 was reading the Percy Jackson series, something Y/N was excited about because they were some of her favorite books when she was growing up. Now she got to see her son experience everything she did at his age. It helped that she could answer questions he had, without spoilers, of course. 

Y/N set her book down, running her hand through Atticus’ brown locks similar to Harry’s. She knew he’d made a great older brother. She also feared he’d think she’d loved him less with a baby around, which was far from the truth. Atticus was hers, he was her baby boy and nothing or no one could take that from her. Harry likes to joke and say Atticus is her twin instead of his because he takes after her. Atticus has all of Harry’s looks but is everything her child for he has her love of reading. He loves the ocean and could spend hours in there with them. Atty was charismatic and had everyone’s attention as soon as he walked into a room. He exuded confidence and skillfully commanded attention with his voice. Y/N liked to say he picked up on both of their traits, but Harry assured her Atticus was a piece of her. It never failed to make her cry. 

“I love you Atticus.” Y/N told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

Atticus bookmarked the page he was on. “I love you too, Mum.” 

Y/N wanted to blurt out the news to Atticus, but knew Harry would be upset she did it without him, so she held it in. 

“Forever going to be my sweet boy?” Y/N asks. 

“Course. Going to take care of you all my life,” Atticus promises. 

Y/N smiles. A very Harry answer. “Much appreciated. I think your dad has got you covered.”

Atticus shrugs, “two of us looking out for you isn’t bad.” 

“Glad I’m in safe hands.” 

Atticus goes back to reading but Y/N stays lost in thought, waiting for Harry to announce his arrival. It isn’t much longer when Harry rushes through the backyard, box in hand. Y/N sits up, eager to give it to her son, but Atticus doesn’t seem concerned about his reading. 

“Hi bud, got you something?” Harry shakes the box softly. 

“Two pages left,” Atticus mumbles. 

Harry frowns. “This is your fault.” He points at Y/N.

Y/N gasps. “Please, who bought him an entire library?”

“Again you,” he defends. 

“Technically, your money.”

“Our money,” Harry corrects. 

Atticus is entranced in his reading and Harry uses the time to steal a kiss from Y/N. They refrain from anything too much for Atticus’ sake, but he never minds seeing them give a bit of affection. 

“Chapter done,” Atticus shouts. “Gimme. Gimmie.” He makes grabby hands, but Harry shakes his head, telling him they had to head inside. 

Y/N holds onto Harry’s arm as Atticus rushes inside to the piano room. It’s his favorite room in their Malibu home. The view is perfect. You can see the tides rolling in, one landing on top of another. The sounds perfect to lull someone to sleep. 

Harry sits next to Atticus while Y/N kneels in front of him, her hands pressed together under her chin as she watches him tear the paper. Y/N remembers doing that as a child and knows her mother was a saint for the patience she had. Y/N is close to ripping it herself, but when she sees the brown box, she settles down for a single moment.

Atticus pulls out the record. It’s in a sleeve with a beautiful print of Y/N, Harry and Atticus running through the sand a few months back. Anne had taken it and it became their favorite picture as a family. Harry

thought it would be the perfect fit, and it was. On the top of the cover it read “Atticus’ Song”. His small hands ran over the words as he sounded it out. 

“Is this us?” 

Y/N stroked his cheek. “Yeah, bubs. It’s for you.” 

“Can you play it?” Atticus asks Y/N. 

Harry knew Y/N was nervous. Hell, he was too. There was no worse critic than an honest nine-year-old. As Y/N placed the record on the player, Atticus fiddled with the string of the bracelet he made the other day with Harry. They all had a similar one on their wrist, Atticus having made Y/N’s matching them. Y/N walked back, squeezing next to Harry. Atticus closed his eyes to focus on the opening notes of the song. He was just like Harry, a true critic and admirer of all music. This time was no different. 

The song was slow and had the melody of a lullaby. Harry’s voice welcomed them into the song, with Y/N’s joining him in the chorus. Y/N saw Atticus’ lip twitch during her solo and she couldn’t help but squeeze Harry’s arm. The song ran its course, and they waited patiently for his thoughts. 

“Nice. It was really nice.” 

Y/N let out a deep breath she was holding. Atticus cries, and Y/N panics as she swoops him into her lap before Harry can even move. She holds him tight to her chest as she meets Harry’s worried stare.

“Darling, my darling boy. I got you. I always have you.” Y/N whispers, brushing his hair back, trying her best to soothe him. Y/N rocks him back and forth, letting him get out all his emotions. 

Atticus pulls back, his sniffles the only sound in the room. “Promise I like it.” 

Harry laughs. “Tears would say otherwise, bud.” 

“It–I–I” Atticus isn’t sure how to explain what he felt. “Can we play it every day?” 

Y/N presses a kiss to his temple. “Anything for you.” 

“You wrote it Mumma?” 

Harry scoffs in defense. “What if I did? Huh?” 

Atticus giggles. “Okay, Dad.” 

Harry pouts. Y/N is the stronger song writer, there is no fighting it. “Fine, she wrote most of it.” 

“We did it together,” Y/N answers. 

“It’s my new favorite.” Atticus declares proudly. 

“Good. That’s good. We do have one last surprise.” Harry is eager to share the news.

He stands up and goes for the frame they put the sonogram in for Atticus to keep in his room. While Harry steps out, Y/N settles Atticus in the middle of the sofa for Harry to sit next to him. Honestly, she wants to record this moment but decides it’s better to keep it private between them. Harry comes back with his dimples on display and Atticus is quick to be suspicious. 

“Now close your eyes,” Harry orders. 

Atticus looks weary but does as he’s told. Harry places the frame in his hands and when Atticus opens his eyes, he is looking at their most recent sonogram. It’s clear there is a baby in the middle with its head and body. Atticus would be quick to put it together, but even if he didn’t, the frame reading “Best Brother” would be a dead giveaway. Atticus’ jaw drops at the news. His eyes were not leaving Y/N’s as if he was waiting for them to say “just kidding” because he had waited a long time for this moment. There was a baby in his mum’s stomach. He was going to be an older brother. 

“Is that why you’re always snacking?” Is the first thing Atticus says. 

“Atticus,” Harry shouts playfully. Harry spares a glance at Y/N, unsure how she will react. She’s been a weeping mess, even if she denies it’s the pregnancy hormones. Instead, she surprises him by laughing. It’s a full belly laugh that makes her tear up. 

It is true Y/N had been snacking recently, always something in her hand from a mandarin to banana chips. Harry had stocked up on different snacks on his weekly run to Tesco. He was sure Y/N had almost finished them, but he didn’t mind making all the extra runs out. Anything for his wife. 

“How long do I have to wait to meet them?” Atticus asks when Y/N’s laughter has died down.

Y/N places her hand over her stomach. She hasn’t popped yet, but her doctor told her it would happen soon. Harry had taken photos every day, so she had seen the difference. “About six months to go, Atty.” 

His eyes widened. “Too long.” 

Harry laughs, pushing back Atticus’ growing curls. “Trust me, I know. But we’ve got an important job during this time.”

Y/N smacks Harry’s shoulder. “You don’t have a job, baby. We want you to keep being you. You can talk to us about the baby, about anything.” 

“Can they hear me?” Is his follow up question. 

“Mmm, you can talk to them all you like. Your Daddy certainly likes to do so.” 

“Hey,” Harry pouts. “Thought you liked it.” 

Y/N gives Harry a kiss. “I love it. One of my favorite parts of the day.”

“Okay. Can I do it now?” Atticus asks. 

Harry nods and gestures for him to settle on the couch with Y/N. He sits on Y/N’s lap while Harry is quick to try to move him, wanting him to be careful with her. Y/N simply pulls him closer, and it reminds him of how perfect of a mother Y/N already is. 

He joins his family on the couch, all snuggled close, while they listen to Atticus talk to his sibling. It’s one of the best days of Harry’s life and he can’t wait to make more memories in a few months’ time. For now, he will enjoy these special moments. 

[btsficsandsuch]

A Simple Notebook

Your best friend Namjoon always carries around a notebook that he never lets you see. That is until one night he makes a huge mistake and that notebook might be the key to saving your relationship.

This one got away from me a little bit. I had so many directions I wanted to take it, but I think I cleaned it up pretty good. Warning: Some mentions of sex, nothing graphic though.

——————————————————————————-

“Namjoon when are you going to let me see what you’re always scribbling in that notebook of yours?”, you asked your best friend of three years. He shut the book and tucked it back in his bag, “I told you Y/N it’s just something that I write my thoughts down in. Nothing special.” He quickly changed the subject to Jin’s birthday party that you were both attending the following evening, but you couldn’t get your mind off of that book. You knew it was dumb but you and Namjoon shared everything with each other, except what he was always writing about in that book so it really bothered you that he kept it a secret.

“Y/N are you listening to me?”, he asked snapping you out of your thoughts. Smiling you nodded your head. “I was asking if you wanted to go to Jin’s party with me or if you wanted to just meet there.?” You thought for a second, “Umm we could just meet there. That would be easier.” He agreed and the two of you said your goodbyes and after a quick hug he was on his way.

The following day you were getting ready for the party. Truth be told you really hated parties like this. You hated getting dressed up and having to be in loud places crammed with a lot of people in a tiny space. You didn’t understand why Namjoon wanted to go to this party anyways since he pretty much agreed with your view on them. That’s one of the reasons you liked him. You actually really liked him a lot. You’ve had a pretty big crush on him for the last couple years but you never wanted to confess in fear of rejection and ruining your friendship.

Once at the party you said hello to a few of the people you knew, but really you were just waiting for Namjoon. The longer you stood there the more uncomfortable you were getting. You weren’t much of a drinker. You weren’t dressed like the other girls. They were wearing sky high heals and dresses that barely covered anything with a drugstores worth of makeup on their faces. You on the other hand were in a simple blue dress with daisies on it, Namjoon had told you multiple times how much he loved it on you. You had just a light touch of makeup on. After looking around the room you felt so out of place.

You were starting to get worried. Namjoon was never this late. You decided to walk around a little instead of standing in the same spot. You were making your way down the hallway when you came to a large group of people standing outside one of the bedroom doors. Everyone was silent minus some whispers here and there. You recognized one of those people as Yoongi. You made your way over to him and he smiled once he noticed you, “Hi Y/N, having fun?” You shook your head, “No not really. I haven’t been able to find Namjoon and he’s the only reason I came here. Have you seen him?” Yoongi shook his head, “Nah I haven’t but I’ve been over here the whole time. There’s two people in the room really going at it. We’re all standing out here waiting to see who it is.” Now that he mentioned it you could hear the faint moans and sounds of two people definitely hooking up.

Deciding that you didn’t really care about two strangers sexual escapades you said goodbye to Yoongi and were about to turn to leave the hallway when that bedroom door clicked open. You could hear all the cheers and shouts from the guys that were standing there. You rolled your eyes at how immature they were. You started to walk away when you heard Yoongi declare, “Wow Namjoon, I never would’ve guessed all that noise was coming from you.” You stopped in your tracks and turned around just in time to see Namjoon waking out of the room his hair a tousled mess and lipstick all over his neck. Following close behind him was a woman, you noticed her lipstick smeared on her face as she was adjusting the the black dress that was two sizes too small. Just wanting to get out of the house as fast as you could you turned to leave but not before making eye contact with Namjoon. You were praying he didn’t notice the tears in your eyes.

You were walking down the street as fast as your legs would go, your mind racing. You didn’t know why you were so upset. He was just your friend. He could hookup with whoever he wanted, even if it wasn’t you. The reality hurt you.

You were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear Namjoon shouting your name. You only snapped out of it when he finally caught up to you and grabbed your arm., “Y/N where are you going? I didn’t even get to spend any time with you.” “Yeah because you were too busy thrusting into some random girl.”, you thought but decided against saying it out loud. “I’m just not feeling well.”, you said instead which wasn’t a complete lie. “Okay well it’s really late out so let me walk you home.”, he said pulling off his coat to hand to you since the December weather had turned so cold. You stopped him from going further, “No it’s okay. I don’t have far to go. I’ll be fine. Your friend is probably waiting for you back at the party.” Namjoon tried to stop you again by grabbing your arm but you quickly pulled away from him, “Seriously Namjoon, I’m fine. I don’t need you to walk me home.” You didn’t want him to see the tears starting to fall so you walked away as fast as you could, not noticing the hurt in his eyes.

By the time you got to your apartment you had two missed called and three text messages from Namjoon,

Joonbug: Are you okay? You seemed upset.

Joonbug: Did something happen at the party? Did someone hurt you or say something to you?

Joonbug: Y/N you should be home by now. Please let me know that you made it home safely. I’m really worried about you.

Part of you wanted to ignore him. You were hoping that he was feeling hurt like you were but you also knew if you didn’t respond it would only be a matter of time before he was knocking on your door and you were in no mood to see him right now.

: I’m home safely. I stopped at the store to get some things. Have a good time at the party.

You laughed at the last part. It seems he already had a good time. You showered and put on your comfiest pjs. You were excited to finally get in bed, hopefully sleeping will get your mind off of what you heard and saw today. But no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get the image out of your head. Namjoon walking out of the room with some girl he probably met ten minutes before when you had known him for three years, some girl who didn’t know his favorite books or that he hates mint chocolate chip ice cream. It was at this time that you heard knocking at your front door. You assumed it would be Namjoon. You were thinking of just ignoring it but the knocking would not stop. You finally made your way to the door swinging it open angrily.

You stopped when you noticed Yoongi standing there. “Hi Y/N I hope I didn’t wake you.” You shook your head and let him in. He made himself comfy on your couch. Sitting down next to him you asked, “So what do I owe the pleasure of getting a visit from the great Min Yoongi.” “Haha very funny,” he scoffed. “I actually wanted to come make sure you were okay. I noticed you kind of left abruptly. You know after the whole Namjoon thing.” You could feel your heart begin to race wondering if Yoongi knew about your feelings for Namjoon. “I just wasn’t feeling well.”, you said hoping he’d leave it at that. “Yeah that’s what Namjoon said but I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to feel alright up until the point Namjoon came walking out of the room with that girl.” You’ve always hated that he could read you so well. Maybe if you talked to someone you’d feel better.

“Yeah I do kind of like him more than just a friend but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship if he rejected me. And clearly I made the right choice because based on what I saw today he doesn’t have any feelings for me.”, you said with tears threatening to fall. You heard Yoongi laughing next to you. You started feeling hurt that he was finding humor in your pain until he spoke, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you two. Everyone on this planet other than Namjoon knows that you like him. Just like everyone knows that he likes you. I mean, he carries around that notebook everywhere and he writes dow-“, he stops mid sentence with a shocked look on his face like he just realized he left the stove on at home. “What does he write down?”, you asked trying to get him to continue, but he just shakes his head, “Just talk to Namjoon. Give him a chance to explain.” And with that he gives you a hug and walks out of your apartment. You know that he was only trying to help you but you now have many more questions.

You waited a few days before contacting Namjoon. You had wanted your emotions to settle before speaking to him so that you wouldn’t get upset. You agreed to meet at his apartment and talk things over. You didn’t know why you were so nervous as you waited for him to open the front door for you. “Y/N why did you knock? You know you’re always welcome to come right in.”, he asked welcoming you. “I wasn’t sure if you were busy or anything.”, you said thinking back to that night at the party. He motioned for you to sit on the couch next to him. He was telling you about the last couple days and some new songs he had written, but you were having a hard time concentrating. You were still thinking about him and that woman at the party. You wished you could just erase it from your memory so you didn’t feel so awkward.

“Y/N did I do something to upset you?,” he asked bringing your hand into his. You shook your head, “No why would you think that?” Namjoon continued, “Well it’s just ever since that night at the party you’ve been really distant. You don’t text me good morning or good night any more and this is the first time I’ve seen you in over a week. If I did something I want you to tell me so I can fix it. I don’t like you not being in my life.” You could feel the tears starting to form. You hated that you were so weak in front of him. “I just didn’t want to bother you. I figured you were busy with other things since you seemed to make a new friend at the party.”, you said while quickly wiping away a tear hoping he didn’t notice.

Namjoon was silent for a few moments before rubbing his hands over his face and letting out a drawn out sigh, “I knew this would happen. I knew you’d get upset about this. I’m such a-“, you cut him off before he could finish the sentence. “I’m not a child Namjoon. You don’t have to protect my feelings. I’m also not your girlfriend so you can sleep with whoever you want. I just didn’t expect that from you.”, you said with more tears falling. You were startled when Namjoon suddenly stood up, “Really Y/N, you think you know so much about me? It’s not what you think. As I was waiting for you to arrive I decided to have a drink and then one drink turned into four. This woman came up to me and kept flirting and I tried to walk away from her. She offered me another drink and next thing I knew I was in bed with her. I regretted it the minute I saw you standing in the hallway. It was just a stress fueled drunken mistake.” He was now sitting back down next to you staring at the ground. You were taken back by his sudden outburst. He started to slightly smile, “You were wearing that blue dress with the daisies, the one you wore to my birthday party two years ago. You looked so beautiful. Then I saw how sad you looked and I felt awful. I came to your apartment later that night to explain and apologize but I heard you talking to Yoongi. I figured you’d rather talk to him at the time anyways and I didn’t want to interrupt so I left.”

He looked so sad you just wanted to wrap your arms around him. You were also wondering if he heard you confess to Yoongi. You were kind of speechless from the roller coaster of emotions you went through. Almost like Namjoon could read your mind he laid his head down in your lap and you started to run your fingers through his hair out of habit, something the two of you did often. “So that girl really meant nothing to you.”, you asked almost scared of the answer. Namjoon shook his head, “No she really didn’t. I didn’t mean anything to her either. I saw her leave with a different guy not long after I got back to the party.” The two of you sat there in silence unsure of how to proceed and that’s when you noticed it. On the coffee table was the notebook you had always wondered about. The notebook that Yoongi had started to tell you about before he stopped himself.

You reached forward and grabbed the book but before you could open it Namjoon sat up and took it from you holding it close to his chest, “I don’t want you to see what’s in here. It’s kind of embarrassing.” “Joon you kind of owe it to me at this point. You’re my best friend and there’s nothing you should be embarrassed about with me.” He nodded and took a big breath hand it over, “Okay so this book started off as kind of a diary but then I met you and it sort of turned into just a book about you.” You were confused what he meant by that but you started to read through everything. The first few pages were just describing his days about the various museums he visited or some of the music he was working on. Then you saw the date,

April 17th- Today I met a really nice girl. Her name is Y/N. She has the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. I hope I’ll be able to spend more time with her.

You remembered that day. He had tripped and fallen in front of you and you helped him up. He looked so embarrassed but you remember see how cute his dimples were. You continued reading through all the pages,

April 21st- Y/N and I spent time at the park today. Turns out we have a lot in common. She agreed to hang out next week again. I can’t wait.

May 28th- I just noticed how cute Y/N’s laugh is. I know she gets embarrassed and tries to hide it but I wish she could see herself the way I see her.

June 24th-I think I’m starting to develop feelings for Y/N but I don’t think she feels the same. I don’t want to ruin the friendship by confessing.

November 2nd- Y/N came with me to meet my parents. We had dinner and spent time together. It all felt so right. Like we were meant to be together.

The book went on and on with things the two of you did together or just ways that Namjoon was feeling at the time from the last few years. You could feel your heart melting at all his kind words about you. He really has loved you for a long time. You got to the last page and saw the date that you two were at the cafe having lunch,

December 3rd- I met Y/N for lunch today. She was wearing that green sweater that I love. It really brings out the color in her eyes. I’ve decided I’m going to confess tomorrow at Jins birthday party. He has a balcony with a beautiful view of the city. I think it’ll be a really nice place to ask her to be my girlfriend. It’s a risk but I just can’t live like this any more. I need her to know how much I love her.

Then you got to the last entry. It was much longer than the other ones. It was the day after the party,

December 5th- I really messed up yesterday. I was so nervous about confessing that I thought having a drink would help me calm down but the more I drank the more nervous I got so I thought just one more drink would help. I ended up getting way too drunk and slept with some random woman who wouldn’t get away from me. Y/N knows. Yoongi told me that Y/N confessed to him that she has feelings for me. He said he’s tired of watching us waste each others time so he’s stepping in and that I should call Y/N and apologize. I tried calling but she won’t answer. I wish I could tell her how much I love her and how happy she makes me and how I don’t want any other woman in the world besides her. I hope that one day she can forgive me.

You weren’t sure how to feel. You were ecstatic that your best friend and the guy you’ve had a crush on for so long also likes you back but you were still hurt about what he did. You were also angry at Yoongi for telling him. Namjoon took the book out of your hands and placed it on the table, “Y/N I’m really sorry for what I did. I never intended for this to happen this way. I hope that you at least still want to be friends.”

You thought for a moment before grabbing his hand, “I’ve liked you for a long time. That’s why I was so hurt when I saw you with that woman. I felt like I was never going to be good enough for you.”, Namjoon pulled you close to him, “Y/N you’re perfect to me. You everything I could ever want in a partner.” You kissed his cheek, “How about we forget the last week happened and start over?” Namjoon smiled and nodded in agreement.

You thought for a moment before grabbing the notebook and the pen flipping to the last page. You crossed out the entry from December 5th and added a new one,

December 11th- I confessed to Y/N and she confessed her feelings as well. We agreed to move on from the past. We’re going to do great things together with all the love that we have for each other. We also have to thank Yoongi for getting involved even though he did it mostly for his benefit.

With that you closed the book placing it on the table. Namjoon wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You snuggled into his side while he put on a movie. Who knew a simple notebook could be the key to so much happiness.

[fruitcoops]

can you write something with this quote I found? It’s so fitting for coops !

“I hope the most beautiful thing you ever see if another human”

In honor of final exams, here's some Harvard FinnLo fluff to share in the suffering--or, you're in a library with a beautiful boy...

Character credit goes to @lumosinlove , who shattered me into a thousand pieces with the new art and will be receiving a UPS box containing my entire heart soon. It's just easier that way.

(and to my friends, who do not know this blog exists but have spent their night/ early morning sitting across from me while we work, I love you v much)

“I’m gonna die.”

“Non.”

“I’m going to fail out of Harvard.”

“Non.”

“Yon.”

Logan’s eyes flicked up over the edge of the wooden table divider and narrowed, the green made bright by the black band of his chunky headphones. “You’re not failing out.”

“Might.” Finn slumped further into the palm of his hand. Another half-inch of Logan disappeared on the opposite side of their table. They had been here for hours. His body ached. His mind fizzled softly, like bacon fried so long it crumbled at the first touch.

Huh. Maybe he could use that in his paper. Reformation-era literary techniques had to fit somewhere in there.

A sigh gusted out of Logan; Finn straightened just enough to peek over the mahogany separating them. Blunt fingertips pressed against the inner corners of his eyes and turned the skin white, then dragged along the first hints of exhausted shadows before pulling down until Logan had to blink. He caught Finn watching and the almost of a smile shimmered across his face before he pointedly pulled his headphones back over his ears and bent his head to his notebook.

They had learned their lesson from midterms season—any tables where they could see each other only led to hours upon hours of talking instead of studying. But working alone was not an option (not that Finn had ever suggested it), so. Dividers. They had blinders on the sides, too. Finn sort of felt like he had been put in a filing box when they worked here.

“Lo,” he hissed. The scratch of a mechanical pencil answered. “Logan.”

A girl at the table next to them shot him an unamused look. Finn hoped his smile seemed apologetic, or at least sincere.

“Tremzy.”

The toe of a worn-out sneaker found his ankle. Solid, but gentle.

“Fucker,” Finn whispered, hiding his grin behind their divider.

A puff of air would have rustled his notes if they had been studying at their usual place at the dining room table. He listened to Logan scribble; always stilted when his hands got tired. Their room would smell like Tiger Balm tonight. He’d get to see the funny little wrinkle of Logan’s nose, too. Warm light from the swirling green lamps beside them made his hair glow chestnut and maple. It curled at the ends from his shower after practice, now far enough gone that each thick lock was mostly dry. He hated going to bed damp.

A faint ripping noise made the girl next to them glance over. Something gave a faint plastic rattle.  Finn had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his laugh back when Logan’s hand appeared over the divider and haphazardly taped a torn corner of notebook paper to Finn’s side.

SHUT. WORKING.

Reformation literature could wait.

Finn’s pen smudged blue streaks across the side of his palm. He took Logan’s note and carefully peeled the tape off, then smoothed the curling edge over the section he had torn from his own notes.

On what?????

The sliver of Logan’s back he could see heaved.

Finn waited for a long moment.

The tape came free with a nigh-imperceptible snick.

Econ. Logan’s fingernails were ragged at the edges from biting.

Econ-your-mom-ics.

The crumpled-up note came sailing back over without a response—he caught it half an inch from his forehead and tucked it into the waterbottle pouch of his backpack before carefully sliding his chair back and leaning forward, far enough to rest his chin on top of the divider.

Logan’s work station was a disaster. Hurricane Tremblay has entered the building, he thought as Logan’s marking of a demand curve slowed to a stop. Highlighters of three different sizes were scattered among half a dozen pens and dull pencils. A thin layer of used-eraser confetti littered every page and worksheet.

Logan had switched to a blue pen—one of Finn’s, he realized. Likely borrowed during their last study session. Finn pressed his chin harder to the wooden edge and waited. Always patient. Logan would crack soon.

Ever so slowly, Logan looked up at him from under his lashes. His hands flattened over his notes. He would have looked immensely unimpressed if Finn didn’t know better.

The cold press of a ballpoint to the tip of his nose was…not unwelcome, but not unexpected. Finn scrunched his face up and heard a short, amused exhale. The pen retreated. Logan was really smiling now, tiny and mischievous. “There.” He was always better at whispering than Finn. “Rudolph’s fucked-up cousin.”

Finn had to duck into his sweater at that, shoulders shaking with the force of a contained bark of laughter. The girl next to them made a show of turning up her music in her earbuds. God, he should feel bad, shouldn’t he? They should go home—go to their room and try one more time to be productive without the laws of Harvard’s libraries looming over them. Percy had been trying to convince him to bring one of the library lamps home for ages.

Logan finally looked away from his notebook, grinning wildly as he shook his head and gave Finn’s forehead a light push. The chair creaked when Finn sat again and scooted forward. He didn’t even want to think about how old these things were, or he’d start getting philosophical. It was much more fun to wax poetic about the importance of Harvard history regarding antique chairs when he was drunk and in Will’s care for the evening.

Logan would listen, Finn thought as he woke his computer up and flexed his hands over the keyboard. Some of the letters were worn nearly bare from his fingers. Logan would laugh at him, but he would listen. He could hear it now. Okay, Harz. Uh-huh. Oh, really? Should I leave you and the chairs alone for a while?

No, no, he would say. I gotta show you. You gotta know.

Logan would shake his head again. Finn figured he’d have a fifty-fifty chance of getting Logan to come with him on a late-night library run versus letting him wrangle him back to bed. He’d be happy either way.

For now, Microsoft Word was waiting with a heading, six sources, and an impatient cursor tapping its foot over his bolded [TITLE!!!!] notation.

--

Midnight came and went between paragraphs four and five. The girl next to them packed her things five minutes later, slinging her satchel over her shoulder as if it weighed eight hundred pounds.

Logan dropped a pen—black, this time—just after one o’clock.

The library lights flickered when the clock hit 1:30. They gathered their things, not bothering to pack their bags, and relocated to the first floor’s 24-hour room with the rest of the pitiful souls relinquishing their night to the altar of academia.

Finn’s eyes began to burn at 2:37.

The first soft snore sounded at 2:51.

He had been so good. So good. He hadn’t bothered Logan at all, not counting the friendly slap to the back of his head when he came back from the bathroom. Nine glorious pages of semi-decent analysis were finally in existence.

The next snore was a touch louder, like Logan had breathed away whatever muffled it before. Finn leaned up on his elbows to see over the edge and smiled to himself at the curls pressed flat to spiraled aluminum. Logan’s lips were parted on the paper. His pencil—back to the pencil? Finn would never understand him—hung limp in the valley of his thumb. His other hand rested on the back of his neck, like he had been supporting himself on it before sleep made him slump right over.

“Tremz. Logan. Hey, number ten.”

Logan’s finger twitched.

Finn sat back, stretched his leg out, and landed a light kick on Logan’s shin. He heard a snort before Logan’s jolt reached his foot. “Calice de crisse—”

“Good morning.”

Logan was blinking hard and slow when Finn leaned up again, both hands wrapped around the table edge and maybe, maybe, one foot on earth. “When time?”

“It’s three o’clock.”

“…practice?”

“In the morning.”

Logan nodded, slothlike, eyelids drooping. Graphite stamped the round part of his cheek; he scratched at it, yawned, and stretched both arms out in front of himself in an Oscar-worthy performance of someone who was any kind of awake.

“We should go back,” Finn suggested.

“Non. All-nighter.”

“It’s officially morning.”

Logan exhaled through his nose for several seconds. He was staring into the middle distance again, right along the seam of their barrier. “I have another chapter.”

I ‘ave anuzzer shapter. Soft, and low, and raspy. So close to his morning voice, but not quite. Finn nudged him with his toe. His heart gave a flip at Logan’s light frown. “I’m going to run through my paper one more time,” he offered. “We can head out after that.”

Logan looked up at him, the picture of confusion. “You’re going running?”

“Editing.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Okay.”

“Finish your chapter.”

“Okay.”

He cracked his knuckles twice before bending over his notes. One hand rubbed through the back of his hair, left long for the end of the season. He’d probably get it cut over winter break. Finn sort of didn’t want him to.

There was a throbbing behind Finn’s eye that had started somewhere around his first attempt at a concluding paragraph. His fingertips were numb and his wrists were sure to hurt as soon as he stopped writing. He wasn’t sure when exactly his mouth had gone so dry, but it had, and he spared a moment’s thought toward the drink station in the lobby. They always had coffee around finals—it was decent, if a little burnt. He wondered if they’d have mint tea.

Logan’s pencil moved audibly slower than before. Loops and swirls and scratches, a language Finn would never understand. Words were his place: endless white pages and safe letters to curl up in. But numbers and statistics, the things with straight answers, were all for Logan’s clever mind.

Those same words echoed in his head and blurred as he scrolled through a halfhearted read-through. It wasn’t long before he shut his dying laptop and finally let it rest, sagging low in his chair. He turned his face to the ceiling and closed his eyes. It would be easy to fall asleep here, with Logan’s foot against his and the gentle sounds of the library wrapping him up.

“Harzy.”

“ ‘m awake.”

“I’m not.” Something tapped the back of Finn’s hand. “Allez, or I’m leaving without you.”

As if. Finn took the proffered hand without opening his eyes and let Logan pull him up, groaning at the pinch in his legs. The crinkle of paper as he shoved it into his bag made him wince, but that was a problem for the morning. It looked like Logan hadn’t bothered to organize, either.

“Zipper,” Logan reminded him, not looking up from his phone. “I don’t want to hear you complain about more lost pens.”

“Thanks.”

“That’s why you have me.”

How Finn wished that was true.

“You know, I read something kind of neat earlier,” he said as they left the study room. At Logan’s hum of mild interest, he turned to walk backward for a few steps. “I hope the most beautiful thing you ever see is another human. Kinda nice to think about, huh?”

“Hmm.”

“I dunno.” Logan tapped them out of the library with his ID. Finn hadn’t bothered to reach for his own in a long time. He smiled to himself as December bit their cheeks, jostling Logan’s shoulder at the first scrape of brick below their feet. “I like it.”

“You would.”

“Shut up.”

“Non.”

“Yon.”

[questionableratatouille00]

𝕺𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: Whenever Steve was sick before the serum, you were there for him. But all these decades later, he finds just how much time he wasted back then.

Note: This is my submission for day one (drugging/sick/poisoned) of @ailesswhumptober! Does this count as whump? Probably not! Either way, I really wanted to be able to put something out, so here we are!

Warnings: Sickness, technically main character death (??), mention of medicine.

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

ʙʀᴏᴏᴋʟʏɴ, 1930ꜱ

“For fuck’s sake, Steve. You’re sick. Now sit your ass down.” Bucky sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. The three of you, you, Bucky, and Steve, had been a trio since practically birth. You’d helped each other through a lot. Bucky always had his sights set on some beautiful lady, and your sights were set on Steve. You know, if he’d notice it. 

“‘M not sick.” Steve slurred out, and you resisted the urge to laugh. His fever was high, and the pain medication only amplified the effects.

“Steve, you’re burning up and shivering at the same time. Just..at least sit on the couch.” You attempted to bargain with him. “Please? For me?”

“Fine.” He grumbled, plopping down on the couch. You glanced at Bucky, who was looking at you. Bucky shrugged slightly, not sure what to do. 

“Thanks. Buck’s gonna go get you some soup, okay?” You sat down next to your smaller friend as Bucky walked a few steps away to the kitchen.

“M’kay.” Steve yawned. 

“Are you feeling better? At least, compared to earlier?”

He nodded, still a bit loopy. Bucky came back with a bowl of soup, setting it down on the coffee table. “Eat up, punk.”

After he finished eating, you walked him to his bed, hoping that he wouldn't resist. And he didn’t, opting to quietly lay down. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

“Stay?” He asked quietly, his small and ice-cold fingers finding their way to yours. 

“Course I will, Steve.” Rubbing circles into the back of his hand with your thumbs, you let out a sigh. “I always will.” 

He smiled at that. “I like you a lot, Y/n.” 

“I like you too. A lot.” 

He drifted off to sleep, his hand tucked in yours.

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

ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ ᴄɪᴛʏ, 2016

Steve’s eyes drifted away from his notebook at the faint sound of sneezing. A younger couple, maybe in their early twenties, walked hand-in-hand down the street. A woman and a man, the man significantly smaller than the woman. Steve noticed the way he looked at her, eyes filled with love and admiration. Her eyes were bright and excited, and she looked at him every so often as she talked about something. 

They were both dressed in their cold weather clothing, scarves and gloves and hats and jackets. Steve smiled softly, imagining you like that. 

The man coughed, more of a wheezing, painful sound. Steve winced. He didn’t have to imagine himself like that. He could remember it clearly, the struggle to breathe, his throat feeling like it had been clawed by a raccoon. 

He missed you. He misses you every day. He was lucky to have Bucky back, and he was grateful. But that didn’t stop him from wanting you. Your kind smile, your gentle gaze. The way you made him feel less…less. 

But you weren’t coming back. He was sure of it. Hell, he’d found your gravestone. You’d died unmarried, with no children. You’d become a nurse at a children’s hospital, which he'd found out from Natasha searching for information about you online.

Steve felt a pang of sorrow as he watched the couple walk farther down the street. With them, it felt like his past and everything he knew was walking away too. He wished he’d had more time to spend with you, to tell you how he’d really felt about you back then. He yearned for you, to be able to take back all of those times where he could’ve kissed you, yet didn’t. Before he knew it, he’d run out of time to spend with you. He couldn’t replace you. Not with Sharon, or Natasha, or Sam, or even Peggy. In a world full of people, people who idolized and adored him, people who dedicated their lives to collecting his trading cards, he still felt alone. 

He truly was a man out of time.

[royaltrios]

here's some notes on my recent chsc: what you're missing

-since i published as needed as last year's snow in january, i've been busy trying to graduate and not had any time to read or write or even really think about genshin. then i visited our chsc server friends for a few days beginning of june and i came back and haven't stopped writing since

-on the drive up me and taho spent most of the two hours yapping about chsc, and it was lovely but also extremely extremely strange for me to hear someone praise my writing irl. im genuinely just stumbling through word documents like a bow-legged fawn so

-starting back up with writing this summer i started working things out on physical paper in a notebook. its actually been really fun/feels different than notes app/sticky note-ing it. i still did use sticky notes for puzzling out intricacies of the smut tho (and then proceeded to pretty much use none of it) i'll attach a pic of my notes here for fun even though its slightly horrifying to do

-like most of my fics ive had this one waiting in the wings for a while, basic premise though was just 'chsc first time happens after scara backhands childe in front of people and childe gets very horny about that'. wrote it over about two weeks, fight scene fucked me up until i just locked in and wrote all of it at once at 2am. spent a while rearranging the smut then sent it to pachi to beta, forced myself not to look at it during those days, got it back and made isolated edits and was too embarrassed to read the smut i wrote 2 weeks ago again so i just posted it. hope its ok

-i always always always have trouble with scara during harbinger era. its because im a chronic overexplainer/overjustifier for characters getting together. for his actions during that time i lean on the little tiny bit we ever saw of it and that's mostly abrasiveness... but you gotta pull on how wanderer acts/ his backstory a bit too to like really see where hes coming from at that point in the story. halfway thru writing i realized he wouldnt act the way i was imagining him acting, had to fix that, then had to tweak the rest of the fic

-basically; i think childe would accept that he has a thing for scaramouche without too much thought. he's into mean people who're older than him + match his freak. he goes towards what makes him feel good. scara on the other hand i think... he immediately justifies the pull he feels as 'childe's stupid enough that i can use him'/'he worships me without being told'. this is a guilty pleasure for both of them until they realize its not (which is what i hoped to set up by beginning it with their abyss connections-- they're alike from the very beginning and they're both being used in different ways) <- i talked to pachi some in the middle of writing and it helped me puzzle out what chsc would be feelin a bit more. ty dr pachi phd in childe characterization

-had to have like multiple tabs open of bible's rgg pwp fics as emotional support. i filtered fics tagged 'cunniligus' in my bookmarks more than once. i was floundering. 90% of what i write or consider writing is E rated but i don't actually get much fulfillment out of describing smut. however i kind of tried really hard here bc i know thats what 99% of people are reading this for and even though i hate when i have to write the words scaramouche and clit directly next to each other i ended up pretty proud of the smut here.

random favorite bit:

“Well, it—” Childe's hips buck up into Scaramouche's fist. With a strained expression across his face and in a tone that sounds a little too genuine, he says, “feels kinda... different, since it's you." It's as bold-faced and earnest as anything else he's heard Childe say. But it's a sort of confirmation that Scaramouche was hoping to avoid—whilst simultaneously enjoying dancing around it. Stupid to give him this much leeway, this much permission, and not expect the guy who does everything else with the ruthlessness and loyalty of a hunting dog not to extend that to this.

i liked this bc i felt like i managed to nail down scara realizing he might've bit off more than he can chew without disrupting the smut. and childe + dog metaphor + shaky earnest confessions + L + ratio

-my penchant for having characters write letters in fic returns (almost as bad as my thing with inserting flashbacks in the middle of stuff) (i like first person but i dont like it in fic so this is the only way i can do it)

-looped teenage dirtbag (title + captured how i was trying to play childe here) (friend told me recently the singer of wheatus went to hs around where we grew up?), against the kitchen floor by will wood (taho's doing), some high energy 2000s stuff while revising the fight scene, my age gap oriented pl + will stetsons rabbit hole cover during the smut

i'll leave whoever reads this with a teenage dirtbag induced write-up i did to try and work out why i ended up liking the title i chose so much:

what you're missing-- what you're letting pass you by. what you don't have by not looking at me, what you'll want back in the future. what you don't have by not having me. what you've been trying to find, to grasp. what you didn't know you were missing.

[sparklepool101]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

"Tagged" in @kindlystrawberry's open invitation (who is one of my favorite fic writer ever, seriously PLEASE check her stuff out!) and using this as an excuse to ramble :p

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

66!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

192,170 since 2020!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

A little bit of everything! The top couple that pop up on my profile are Craig of the Creek (21), Project Sekai (14), Rise of the TMNT (5), and Kid Cosmic (5). But honestly? Whatever I'm into at the moment has a good chance at getting a fic. (My notes app is nothing but draft ideas.)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sure As Sun Turns to Moon (I'll be With You) (FNAF) - 1,697

I Can't Lose You Again (ROTTMNT) - 847

Another Danganronpa Chatfic >:3c (Danganronpa) - 478

Wish We Could Turn Back Time (Don't Hug Me I'm Scared) - 430

Five Times Casey Moved to a New Cave and One Time that He Moved into a New House (ROTTMNT) - 421

So one of these is not like the others lol. I can explain though. So, top down:

SASTTM got published when Security Breach was super popular and tapped into the public outcry for Freddy being Gregory's dad. It's been sitting unfinished for over a year now at 28k, but I do have plans to finish it! I've cut the draft down a lot to actually make it a feasible writing project now, but I'm not going to publish anymore chapters until it's done. I want to finish it properly because this fic helped me grow so much as a writer and it means a lot to me.

I Can't Lose You Again will get touched on later on, as well as Wish We Could Turn Back Time.

Five Time Casey Moved was a fic that I wrote in a haze after watching season one of ROTTMNT and then the movie. It was published the day after the movie came out iirc and has a really special place in my heart for several reasons <3

And then the chatfic.

I got my fandom start in Danganonpa and in middle school, chatfics are the funniest, coolest things ever. So once I decided to start writing, obviously I had to do my own. It has aged horribly, is horribly written, and honestly should be deleted and never see the light of day again. Or at least be orphaned. But I made myself a promise to never delete my old fics unless they were actually horrific because you know what? Everyone starts somewhere. So it's still up. And one day it will get dethroned from the top kudos list and I will throw a party <3

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I usually respond!! It makes me so giddy to receive even the shortest comments, and I always try to pass on that good feeling <3

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So out of my published fics its I’d Make a Deal with God (I’d Get Him to Swap Our Places) which is a ROTTMNT fic I wrote about the movie before it came out to speculate on the future. In it we see both Raph and Donnie get kranged, leaving Leo and Mikey crying in a subway. A friend actually told me to kay why you know what myself because of it (in a very much joking manner) which was SUCH a compliment!!!

Out of everything I've written? There's a half finished ROTTMNT fic in my junior year AP Lang notebook which takes place over one week and ends with Mikey dying which is... really angsty. Like worryingly angsty. It's still an interesting concept that I think could be fun to explore, but even if I do ever finish it idk if it'll see the light of day.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm really not a fan of unhappy endings, even in fics. Hurt is best served with a side of comfort in my opinion, so everything I write ends up being really light and fluffy.

Three fics come to mind as having the happiest *ending* though.

The first is Would You be so Kind (As to Fall in Love with Me?) which is a Craig of the Creek fic entirely focused on two characters realizing that they love each other and that polyamory is an option! It's super sweet and I refuse to believe it's not canon tbh.

The other two are both Project Sekai fics from Tenmay this year, The Royal Summit (Where Friendships Blossom) and Sunbound Promise. They're both fantasy aus where Tsukasa and Toya grow closer, the first being their first meeting and the second where they become brothers. They're both so sweet and self indulgent, the endings make me so happy <3 <3 <3 <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got one comment on SASTTM where someone was bitching about neopronouns which I think counts. But overall people have been really nice and anyone who doesn't jive with the fic just moves on lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope, and I don't know if I ever will. It's just not what I really want to write :p

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Occasionally! None of them have been particularly "crazy", though. I try to keep those things pretty grounded. I have a lot of crossover ideas that don't get written though :p

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but if anyone ever wants to do so you have my full permission! Just shoot me a message somewhere to let me know

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I don't know if I'd be able to either, co-plotting would be fine, I'm doing that with my sibling and a prsk magical girl fic, but writing,,, I couldn't :,)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

There are a lot of ships I love. But for all time favorite, I have to go with the one that I keep going back to read fics for even though I've lost pretty much all other interest in the game: Promptis (Prompto/Noctis from FFXV) I just keep coming back to them.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Where to start with this list.

The main one if probably my Project Sekai fantasy au fic The Eastern Side of Bolganio. It's so special to me, but it's a majorly ambitious project and I've gotten so little response with it that it's hard to write. I'm normally pretty good about not focusing on the numbers when it comes to fics (writing for small random fandoms help, there are some fics that I'm surprised have more than two hits, much less two kudos), but the fact that it's such an ambitious project that I've barely made a dent into... idk

I really want to finish it though </3

16. What are your writing strengths?

idk, people say that my characterization is really good? I saved this one for last to answer but now I'm tired

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm going to try and not be too self deprecating lol.

I'm really bad at describing environments/movement and dialogue at the same time. It's always either White Room Syndrome or a clunky mess. I also suck at titles. I always try to not use song lyrics, but anything that I do always sounds horrible.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I love it when it's done well! I love it when fic authors delve into the heritage of characters and bring in elements of it. I've done it a fair couple of times and always take great care to make sure that the translations aren't too horrific.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

So the first ever fanfiction I wrote was my exceedingly angsty, take on who the other souls in Undertale were before they died.

HOWEVER, I consider the first *fandom* I wrote for to be either Percy Jackson or Danganronpa. My first actual attempt at writing a fanfiction was a Solangelo prompt which I wrote two sentences of before abandoning and the first time I tried to write canon characters in situations, doing things, was it that damned chatfic XD

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ouuuugh we're just going with a list here

I Can't Lose You Again - I told you these would show back up again. Anyways, writing this fic was so fun. I really felt like I knew what I was doing, and apparently I did based off the comments! It's so special to me <3

Wish We Could Turn Back Time - This is my Roman Empire. I haven't updated this fic in years but I think about it everyday. I'm working on cleaning up the outline to be less ambitious so I actually have a chance to finish writing the thing, and I can't wait to finally give it the ending it deserves! It's also actually shaped my life in so many ways <3

After The Dinner Horn and Offscreen; a CotC oneshot collection - Maybe putting a oneshot collection here is cheating but shhhh. This actually is an umbrella title for almost all of my cotc fics (especially on platforms where I can't be bothered to upload them individually unless they're multichaptered). So many of these fics either shaped me as a writer drastically or mean so much to me on a personal level it's WILD. And also a reflection on how much the show means to me I guess? Idk that's enough psychoanalyzing for today.

Coercion Cancellation - This one might be cheating because it's the one I'm currently working on, but shhhhh. It still counts. It's for an indie horror game called Imaginary Friend Asylum ((prequel to The Friends We Left Behind)) which you should check out

Also adding on the two Project Sekai fics from question seven about the happiest ending. They're just so, so self indulgent <3

Tags: I don't have the guts (nor memory) to tag anyone on here, so it's fully an open invite! Hop on over here and ramble your heart out about the things you've written!! I can't wait to read it!!!

[chiefbeifongcanrailme]

Yearbooks

I know I've been away for a while, but it was a much needed break from fandom and writing. To everyone who reached out, I love and appreciate you so much. I feel good being back. This ficlet may be inspired from somewhere and if you know what it is, we can be best friends haha.

Part of my Love Realization Prompts, here's number 4: They're going to go away soon. You're going through some of your old memories together, which is when the realization hits you (and you don't have much time left), Lin Beifong x Hiroshi Sato.

Fic under the cut!

There was something about last days. The whiff of anticipated nostalgia was all over, filling everyone with a riveting bittersweet taste. The first day always came ensconced, like a budding rose, within the soft petals of promise. The first step towards hopefulness. But the last day, however, was for bidding goodbyes to unachieved dreams, broken promises, and all those glimmering moments that turned into memories.

Sure, school had its tribulations, but Lin knew, deep in her heart, that the last day of school was only the first day of her life. Her life was all but a legacy of another. She tried not to ruminate about those things, else who only knew how much grumpier she'd come across. Not that she cared-

"Lin, sign my yearbook!"

The call broke her out of her thoughts, and she spun around to find a taller, broader, handsome being in front of her.

Hiroshi.

Hiroshi Sato.

She couldn't remember what his family's deal was or why he was one of the few people other than herself to have a last name- heck even the Avatar didn't have one- either way, Hiroshi was an oddball. He was friends with all the right people and carried himself the way he 'should', and yet his personality was something so unique that it often hurdled what he was trying to present himself as. Lin admired his commitment to being his own person in a place where everyone wanted to fit in and appear alike. And so she admired his likeness to her.

"Sure." She shrugged.

Hiroshi timidly moved closer as he handed her his yearbook and a black fountain pen. He gave her a shy smile as she tried putting pen to paper with some combination of words of the sweeping notes all these pretentious teens had written in each others' books.

But the problem was: she actually liked Hiroshi. Well, not in the way of course. He was kind, sweet, attractive, ambitious, genuine, and this was well before she set the bar for her classmates that low. He was always around to help her when she needed a hand, and that one time when she needed a shoulder.

"Beifong?" He prompted softly with a smile.

Lin shook herself out of her thoughts to meet his eyes. She shut the notebook carefully and gave him an awkward smile back.

"Do you mind if I keep this for a while? It would seem like I'm blanking on what to put in here."

She hugged the book unconsciously as Hiroshi let out a little chuckle, "Sure?" He sounded unsure of her strange request, "May I keep yours hostage until then?"

"Sure!" Lin shrugged as she turned to her satchel to remove her own yearbook.

Hiroshi grabbed it with a smirk and skedaddled off in the direction they heard his name being called out.

Now, came the hard part. Lin had no idea what she wanted to jot down for him. She didn't have very many people in school she could call friends. Outside, she had Tenzin, Bumi, and Kya, the royals in the fire nation, and- well, that was already more than sufficient. Tenzin was her best friend, and thankfully he didn't go to school or else she'd be sitting here, struggling with his yearbook.

She could have completely declined Hiroshi, however.

"Lin, sign my yearbook!" "No."

And that wouldn't even be totally out of character for her.

As she made her way over to the cafeteria for lunch, she studied their school's wild jungle-like habitat. Everyone within their packs at the giant waterhole, coexisting in a precarious balance of this socio-academic ecosystem. There were the chattering hippopotahyenas, the sneaky little minksnakes, the sweet turtleducks, and the terrible viper bats, benders and non-benders alike. As much as Lin felt like she didn't belong here, she had come to accept that she was diffferent; that not everyone was meant to fit in. Especially not someone with a legacy like hers. Tenzin would never fit in here either. Together, they'd both be the only two oddballs in school and she wouldn't feel as alone.

But Hiroshi was an oddball too. And that was why she had always been drawn to him. She knew he was above all the high school drama and was only doing what he had to do to survive. There wasn't one person who didn't like Hiroshi. People rarely troubled him. And there it was- something to sign his yearbook with. Except, "You're an oddball.. like me.. You belong everywhere and I, nowhere." didn't have the best ring to it.

She unscrupulously made the decision to turn over a few pages to see what others had written in search of some inspiration. But to her dismay, his entire yearbook was full of inside jokes she was an outsider to.

An inside joke then? She thought to herself.

"Dear Hiroshi," She penned down on the blank page. Then thought to herself, "Do you remember that one time I entered class with a bloodied nose and everyone thought it would be funny to pass comments? Everyone except you. You who decided to ask me what happened and while you bandaged my- you were gentle- no- you were kind to leave a kiss on my cheek and- no- not like that, but, Hiroshi, you're great. You're a good friend. You've always got my back." no no no no no no, spirits no!

At least she had "Dear Hiroshi" down before she could start doubting that too. Was he really dear-

Suddenly, the PA system crackled and a voice tore out of the speakers, "Last year students, please gather in the training field for your class photograph."

All the students were quick to stand up and head towards the exit. Lin was grateful for the announcement to break her train of thought there.

"Beifong," A fellow student said jauntily, oblivious to the guilty look on her face, "You coming?"

Lin nodded meekly. Fine. Not all of them were terrible. School wasn't all that bad. She chose to be miserable for a variety of reasons, most stemming from Toph Beifong. If it were up to her, she wouldn't be heading to the South Pole the very next day after her schooling ended. She would've wanted to learn from Uncle Aang, to find herself, have her own shadow chase after her instead of filling the mould of her mother's.

She sighed softly and glanced over at Hiroshi's journal. All she had in hers was the generic medly of, "You rock, Beifong! Don't ever change." with their signature. A silly play on the word rock, a kind yet, commonplace gesture. She wondered if Hiroshi was going over her yearbook. Now she was afraid what a loser he might think her to be.

"All right, kids. A few more minutes before we get started. We're waiting on a few more of you. You may disperse around the arena, but stay close, okay?" Came in the instruction.

She was staring at him in the distance. What was worse than Hiroshi thinking she was a loser, was knowing Hiroshi probably doesn't even think about her.

Why did any of this matter?

He was predisposed laughing with another two friends, clutching her yearbook on his side and it made her wonder whether he'd been giving it as much thought as she had.

Suddenly, he caught her eye. Lin panicked. He gave her a pleasant smile and Lin wanted to run and hide. It was true, after all. She liked him. She liked him because she liked him. She liked him well before his lips ever touched her cheek. It didn't take all that much, but she was in love with him for just being himself. Could a crass confession of love make the cut in his book filled with personalized anecdotes? She didn't have anything to lose. She was going to be in the South Pole for the next few months. There was nothing he could do.

"Lin!"

Spirits, it was Hiroshi walking up to her.

"Are you anywhere close to being done with my yearbook? I'm done with yours!" He chuckled.

"Uh-" Lin fumbled, eyes wide with tension, "I'm still working on it." She swallowed nervously on a dry mouth.

Sato gave her a little smile and offered her yearbook back. When Lin placed her hand on it, he placed his other hand on hers and that caught her off guard, "I know you're leaving tomorrow, but it would kill me if I didn't ask- umm- maybe we could sometime- I mean today, or once you're back or-"

"Line up, kids! We've got everyone. Let's get this over with! Come on now!" The photographer went on, rounding up teenagers like regular cattle.

Lin walked up to her designated spot by the trees, which ironically happened to be right beside Hiroshi.

As everyone gathered around, Lin took a quick look into her yearbook to see what Hiroshi had written.

"You're amazing, Lin. Don't ever change. And only, I really mean it."

"Okay, look straight into the lens-"

Lin gave a tight smile to the camera, but looked over to catch a glance of the infectious beam on Hiroshi's face.

She felt something akin to butterfly-wasps in her belly.

From then on until the moment the shutter on the camera clicked, something came over Lin. She wasn't quite sure what it was and whether it was worth giving it a name.

The picture was quite quaint as it was. The typical class of high school graduates in a frame against a contrasting black-and-white tone. Bright eyes and flashing smiles, all but one smile shone even brighter than the rest. It was Hiroshi's toothy grin. And on his cheek, were the soft lips of none other than Lin Beifong.

[slightlywhelming]

SongWriting like the Pros

Recently, I got to sit down and write with a friend of mine who plays guitar for a famous rock band (800,000 monthly listeners on Spotify). We're going to call him Kaden. During our session, he showed me a lot about how the producers his band works with write songs (industry-leading names mind you) and I thought it was a fascinating charge of pace from my usual approach. So here, dear reader, is the entire session step-by-step.

(In case you don't care to read this entire post, the most interesting part is towards the bottom.)

The session started with what Kaden called "Therapy Mode". We sat down without the instruments and just started chatting. "What's new? What have you been thinking about this week? What do you feel about x y or z?" until we landed on a good prompt for a song. He specified that a good prompt should be "unique to you, but relatable to everyone else". During this process, we also wrote down any specific phrases that came to mind as we figured out what we wanted to say. More on this later.

When we had the prompt, we started playing with chords. Kaden said we should start with "grandpa chords", ie. the standard open chords that you learn in the first 2 weeks of playing the guitar. As much as I love finding unique chords and voicings, Kaden insisted that vocal melody was more important, and that unique chords should come AFTER a solid melody is written. It is also important to note that we specifically started with the chorus of the song, ie. the most important and memorable part.

Once we agreed upon a chord progression, we started playing with the melody by singing gibberish. The idea was to trust your ears to find something catchy. Kaden kept saying "Don't think so hard, just sing what makes sense".

Next, we started to formulate lyrics. It's important to note that the melody and the lyrics were developed at the same time. We had a rough draft melody that we built off of, but weren't afraid to change if the lyrics required it. For the lyrics on the chorus, Kaden said they should "be simple enough that an 8th grader would write it on a notebook" because "no one obsesses over lyrics like 8th graders". Even if you are a writer who loves to use metaphors to hide the meaning of their lyrics, the chorus should be fairly straight forward. During this stage, we tried to use each of the phrases we had written down earlier.

As the pieces fell in place, Kaden started to nitpick every decision we made. Some melodies were rewritten, some lyrics were scrapped, and a chord or two were changed. The important thing during this stage is not to get attached to anything you've previously decided on. You don't want to miss out on something better because you're too obsessed with your first idea.

When we finally figured something out that we both liked, I made the assumption that we would start detailing the song by making the chords more interesting, writing the verses, adding harmonies, drums, etc. I was WRONG. When I finished playing what we had written, Kaden hit me with "Cool, let's start over."

Here's the part the blew my mind. Kaden, his band, and every major producer they work with only do 1 thing 90% of the time: write choruses. They write a chorus with just vocals and simple chords and then move on. They don't finish the songs until they decide to write an album.

To put this into perspective, their vocalist is constantly writing 30 second choruses, year round. Last time Kaden's band sat down to do an album, they had 146 demos to pick from. 146! From there, they narrowed the list down to the best 12 and finished each song like this:

Chorus (with completed instrument parts) -> 1st Verse -> Intro -> 2nd Verse -> Bridge -> Outro

Essentially, once you have a really solid chorus, you want to figure out how the song should go leading up to that chorus and then write to the end after that. Last thing I'll leave you with is Kaden's response when I asked why we wouldn't finish the song we had started. "Why spend the time to finish this one if the next chorus we write is 10x better?"

What do you think about this method? Is this something you'd like to try?

[queentheweeb]

Izuku X Female Reader X Ochako

A/N: Izuku and Ochako are together and you guys are in your third year

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

You scribbled furiously into your notebook racing Iida to see who can write 500 words the fastest. It didn't have to be anything specific but it did have to be school related. That was the only way you could get the stoic and robotic boy to engage in such an activity with you. 

"Y/N stop daydreaming or it won't be a fair win on my part!" You stuck your tongue at the boy writing with more fervor. He already beat you in everything else when it came to speed you weren't going to let him have this win. In 3 minutes you had written 500 words officially beating Iida for the first time in 3 years in something speed-related. "I demand to see your paper!" He snatched it out of your hand and scanned over it while you and your audience watch on in amusement

"I think Y/N-chan won this time Tenya-kun, ribbit." You beamed at Asui turning back to Iida when he admitted defeat

"I FINALLY DEFEATED YOU IN SOMETHING SPEEDY! FUCK YEAH!" You started dancing in a circle very proud of yourself 

"Language!" You blew a raspberry at him flipping your hair finding enjoyment when he made an indignant face. He was so fun to bother 

"You enjoy yourself too much at Tenya-Kun's expense." You turned to Ochako who was laying on Deku with a grin ignoring the pang of jealousy. 

"I take joy at anyone's expense, not my fault he makes it easy." You blew a kiss at Tenya giggling at his flustered expression his hands making chopping gestures. You were aware of your friends giggling at his expense and you turned to see Ochako looking a little constipated and Izuku soothingly rubbing her back while he looked a bit flustered. Huh? That was weird. Was something the matter? It wasn't a relationship issue or else they wouldn't be near each other but, something was making them tense.

"Is something the matter L/N-kun?" You turned to Shoto and honestly, you were surprised with how easily this guy was able to pick up on your emotions and just about all of your emotions. If you were told three years ago that you would be in a close-knit group called the dekusquad and would literally die for any of them you would have laughed. Now though? You couldn't imagine life without them, especially Ochako and Deku. It was hopeless really, everyone was in a relationship except you even freaking Iida and Shoto were together and Tsuyu had a triad going on with Shoji and Tokoyami but here you were having to deal with all the love in the air pining after a couple that looked happy and perfect with each other. It made you jealous and green with envy

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just glad to have you guys you know." You felt your face flush as you averted your eyes looking everywhere but at them.

"Awww is Y/N getting sappy." You sputtered glancing over at Ochako who had a mischievous glint in her eyes and a shit-eating grin. You love her.

"Oh hush it you." She giggled falling back into Deku who hugged her closely and you had to turn before your eyes gave away your emotions. Damn it. You glanced at Iida and saw he was paying attention to Shoto who was now in his personal space. That's when you looked around and saw that everyone was lounging around. Right. It was the weekend and everyone was letting loose in the common room not giving two shits since in two months we all are graduating and officially starting our hero careers. Here you were still fucking lonely even the angry Pomeranian is with Kirishima and Sero, how they made it work you don't know and don't care. You just want in. 

"Move it fuck face." Your head looked up in time to see Bakugo scowling angrily in your face and holy shit when did you move? You didn't even remember moving!

"The words excuse me unless you haven't read enough books to understand that." You didn't smile just gave him a straight apathetic look. Normally you would snark and grin at him but your current thoughts dampened your mood.

"I've read more books than you ever heard of. That's why I'm at the top and you're at the bottom just like in everything else." Your eye didn't even twitch you were just irritated with the conversation already and were used to his insults but they were grating on your nerves.

"Please do enlighten me as to what else I'm at the bottom of." You had a feeling as to what he was going to say but wanted to see if he was going to say anything else.

"You're the only one whose quirk hasn't improved, you can't cook, you're grades are average at best, and then you're not even desirable or pretty enough since you're the only one who's painfully single out of all the third years." You couldn't hold it in, your face cringed and you felt angry and embarrassed tears prick at your eyes. You weren't even registering a disappointed-looking Kirishima grabbing Bakugo nor Bakugo's eyes widening once it registered what he actually said. It was too late though he always got to rub salt in the wound. 

"You always got to start something for no reason and be a piece of fucking shit huh? Decent isn't even in your vocabulary." You turned on your heel and ignored everyone making a bee-line to your dorm room. You slammed the door making it shudder and dove into your sheets curling into a ball. You were already in pajamas so no need to change and you cried. You cried out all of your anger, frustrations, embarrassment, jealousy, sadness, and whatever else you were feeling. It wasn't your fault that your quirk wasn't the best but it did improve, you could cook just not like him and your grades weren't A's but they were B+'s and you gave it your all. The one that stung the most was that you were single and it was difficult always being 3rd or 4th wheel since every fucking body was dating someone. Shit, you had a better chance dating the fucking league than someone here. You were sniffling unaware of the tentative knock and your door cracking. You looked and saw a tentative Kirishima looking at you with sad eyes "Please Ejirou if you came here to apologize to him then don't. Fuck him. He needs to learn to think and not speak and to take responsibility for his actions. I'm tired of everyone vouching for him because he's too much of an ass to admit when he's fucking wrong. Now kindly fuck off Ejirou I don't want to see you." You laid back down listening to the audible click and of him walking away. You allowed your thoughts to wander allowing yourself to wallow in pity for a few minutes because dammit you deserved it. You weren't even aware of your door being opened and two pairs of feet walking in until you heard your door close with the sound of the lock clicking. You sat up quickly red-tear streaked face on full display. To your chagrin, it was Ochako and Izuku the last two people you wanted to see in this state

"Y/N-kun I-" You put a hand up to stop any ramblings.

"If you came to vouch for Katsuki don't. I don't fucking want it. The dick needs to learn to take responsibility and stop being childish and man the fuck up." They both looked down before looking back up at you with determination. You paled because you did not like those looks on their faces. It never spelled anything good. In a flash, the covers were ripped violently from you making you spin and yelp. You went to protest but you got an armful of pink and green and somehow all three of you ended up tangled in the bed sheets and you had no forms of escaping. Great. You were in bed, in pajamas tangled with the two people who hold your heart. Fuck you universe.

"You didn't deserve that." You huffed but let out a whine when you were squeezed from the back and front. Izuku had his legs tangled with yours and a hand on your hip while Ochako was in front of you with her legs thrown over yours and an arm around your waist. Essentially you were trapped.

"There's a lot of things I don't deserve but here we are." You were grumpy and tired and still had tear streaks on your face. You were vulnerable and here were your two crushes here trying to comfort you and it gave you weird butterflies and a flush that went through your whole system. You didn't like it.

"Katsuki was an ass for saying those things and he will come around eventually." You huffed doubting it but soon melted into the comfort they both offered. Fuck it you were embarrassed enough today and if they were offering themselves to you, you were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

"I'm sorry. You guys shouldn't be here worried about me when you have each other." You gasped at the sudden pull at your head. You looked down into pink cheeks and angry brown eyes. God, she was beautiful.

"You're worth it. Don't you ever apologize for that." She held your gaze before taking a deep breath and pulling you close planting a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. Your jaw dropped as you were floored and tried to sputter out something just shocked. "Oh don't worry. It was Izuku's idea and I agreed to it because I think you're cute and perfect." Izuku did what to the who, huh??

"Don't be so surprised, we saw your looks, you've been pining after us for a long time. We were waiting not wanting to scare you but, I think we waited long enough." Your brain had long turned to mush and you were simply running on instincts. Your face exploded in red when you felt lips on the back of your neck. Yep mush brain, brain cells are gone. 

"Don't worry we can go slow, there's no rush." You could do nothing. You were hopeless, hopeless but maybe this is something you can get used to.

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

I'm making a part two

[nikolaraftis]

Another question that comes to mind - how did you come to title the book and series? Do you have thoughts on how it has evolved?

When I first sat down to seriously consider this series and my characters and world, the first idea I had at the core of it was "these are people who have gone through things people should not, and there are characters very different to each other that by the end of the series, probably have little in common, except for one thing: they are made from clay, as all living things are." I took inspiration from Greek myth and how humans were built from clay and given fire. Hence, I started off wanting to name my series Bones of Clay. Didn't really like it so much, neither did my friends when I posed it to them, and so I settled for a while on Hearts of Clay, which seemed more fitting to the themes and the romance sub-plot that's always running underneath it all. Because the whole mix of this series' aesthetic, I guess, is a bit of a strange one. It's the 1920s of another universe, where dragons are real and almost every magical thing you can think of, but there's also a fantasy mafia of werewolves, but also a royalty plot, but also there's a cult, but also also there's romance and saving the world from great evil and prophecies. This is kind of why it has to be a series with shifting focus. And because the books follow Zena Moralis' journey through all that, I named each book, in order: The Return, The Rise, The Tragedy, and The Fall. With each book's purpose quite clearly, explicitly set out for both her and some other characters, including Geronimo.

Nearly a month ago, I decided I had to rewrite the draft I had because nothing was going the direction I wanted and since the months I had left it abandoned my style had changed and so had a lot of my ideas and direction. By then, I had quit things with my writing partner, and it helped spur on this idea that I wanted to make my series anew. It needed a new name. I actually recruited my sisters to help me when I was outlining in my notebook. I sat down on a bean bag and said I needed them to give feedback on some book title ideas I'd jotted down. From there, we narrowed the list and the themes and direction -- they insisted on knowing what the series is about, basically, and all the key events of each book -- and we came up with a new titles: Bones Of A God, Skin Of A Jewel Snake, Blood Of A Moon, and Heart Of A Clay Hourglass. From there we went: these are all ingredients to something, but what? And in the end, it was unanimous that this was what made a Moralis. Specifically, Zena Moralis. It's the weirdest, kind of hair-brained, out-there things considering I have not written out this entire series yet, but it made me decide that this would have to be the Moralis series. Because, Moralis: bones of a god, skin of a jewel snake, blood of a moon, and heart of a clay hourglass. Geronimo is indeed the other main character, but this is still Zena's story.

A lot of the original ideas have carried over, as you can see. If we played word association with how I think of the series, it'd look something like: hourglass, immortality, time, love, betrayal, politics, blood, forests, myths, gods, siblings, patricide, loyalty, swords, sun, compass, stars, void, war, grief, death. The very earliest draft I ever wrote of this was when I was about 13, and even back then there was political drama and looming war, but also love and, well, dragons and strange fantasy plants and pink bees that drink fruit juice that I called "berry blies". I have to say, 13-year-old me was on another level. And until now, I was planning to write this series as Young Adult and then let marketing put it into YA Fantasy or Sci-Fi or Supernatural or wherever it wanted the books to go. But with all the stuff I want to do, the topics and themes I want to tackle, it just makes more sense for it to be an adult series. I feel we have a lot of (possibly questionable at times) YA fiction books, and some trashy adult ones that are either too stuffy or full of toxic contemporary romance or just fairy porn. I know some that aren't (Leigh Bardugo's Ninth House and Hell Bent comes to mind) but I wanted to add to the area in my own way. Folks always say to write what you'd want to read, and I'd want to read adult fantasy, because I've grown past the teenager stage and, honestly, have been finding it harder to relate to some of those YA books even now when I've barely hit 20. Roundabout way of doing it, but this genre sort of change also influenced the titles.

Admittedly, the titles of the books feel like they border on too fantastical at times, but they fit better than the old ones did. It seemed too boring to have such plain titles.

All in all, my thoughts on how this has evolved is... it's kind of incredible. And I'm a little scared that the longer I leave this world and these characters (it's already been about 7 years), the more it will change still, and then I will never be done with it. I'm kind of at a point where I want these books done and out to the world so that I can have new ideas for new worlds and stop expanding this one, otherwise it feels like too big a beast for me to write, period. The way the titles have evolved reflect too how much more this series is coming into itself though. I build this story, of course, but at the same time the naming process and the writing feels kind of like an excavation where the more I write and alter things just a bit, the closer we get to the true image I see in my mind.

Anyway, sorry for a bonkers long response, whoops. Hope it answered your question! <3 (As you can see, I love rambling about my work)

[jessicawestonauthor]

On Childhood, Creativity and Writing

I have always wanted to be a writer, ever since I was a kid.

I started reading adult books in 3rd grade when I read "Woman Without a Past" by Phyllis A. Whitney - I got it from my mother's bookshelf, and I actually still have the same book today. In 5th grade I read my first Stephen King book (Cujo), and I remember my 4th and 5th grade teacher Mr. Reardon (who I am actually Facebook friends with today), really made writing a fun part of my education. I think that is when my interest in writing REALLY began.

I always felt very creative and full of ideas. My brothers and I grew up without a lot of other kids in our neighborhood, so we had to keep ourselves occupied with our imaginations. I can't tell you how many "forts" and "houses" we created with old plywood and boards, or even just in some overgrown thicket in our yard. The area between the Lilac bushes and the front porch, I always imagined was a mobile home trailer.

But the full blown worlds and storylines we came up with together were so intricate, I can still remember many of them today, nearly 30 years later. . I think growing up the way we did really gave us a wonderful opportunity to exercise our imaginations and really push the limits of what our creativity.

My brother is also a writer, and arguably a much better writer than me. Our styles are quite different and he has been actively writing much longer than me

For me, I struggled for all of these years. I loved writing, in theory, but I struggled to actually DO it. Once I started taking medication for my ADHD that all changed. For the first time in years I was inspired to start reading again in my spare time, and so I opened up the Kindle App on my phone and before bed each night I started reading books I had downloaded years ago.

It didn't take long before all of that reading refreshed my love of the written word. The stories coming to life in my head was like finding a long lost friend. Within just a couple weeks of starting to read regularly again, I found myself critiquing the stories I was reading. I was picking out things I enjoyed that the writers had done, and also things I thought could have been done better and figuring out how I would do it differently.

After a week or two of critiquing stories in my head and arguing with my half asleep self every night about how I could write a book, I SHOULD write a book, but I have ADHD and hyperfocus on new hobbies and then forget about them in six months so why bother starting when I'm just going to give up, I finally told myself to shut up.

I sat down one morning, googled writing prompts, and the first one I read immediately gave me an idea so I broke out a notebook and a fun pen and got to work plotting ideas and then character bios. Within a week I had three chapters written and my friends couldn't wait to read more.

It's been a little over a month now and I'm starting Chapter 11, I currently have just under 14,000 words, and no plans to stop any time soon. The ideas just keep flowing with no end in sight!

p.s. Please don't judge me for still having a Facebook account with all of this upheaval about the potential Tiktok ban. If the ban goes through I will most likely be deleting FB and IG both. I only have FB to keep in touch with distant family and friends

[crymeariveronceagain]

23 and 25 my friend

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

Ohhhh gosh. Okay, well. I usually write in my dorm room, sitting on my bed. The curtains are usually open, because while my roommate will leave them shut constantly, I need sunlight to function as a human being. So the curtains are pulled back, and the light is streaming in. Outside the window, there are a dusting of trees and hills that I've never climbed, primarily because it seems like a long walk, and I've just never worked up the courage and resilience. The school president's house is over there, somewhere, hidden behind a grove of trees. I went there once, and it was one of the coolest houses I've ever seen. He also was holding a party. That may have been part of the reason that it was so cool.

Anyways, in my dorm room, I have a ton of posters on the walls, and a tiny calendar. Almost all the posters are of impressionist paintings. They make me a little sad to look at, because I've never seen any of the real paintings. I'm surrounded by cheap reproductions of art that no man could ever buy, anymore. There's a watercolor painting on the back of my heavy wooden door. I did it myself, at a painting night. It's a post-apocalyptic picture of a sunset, with the wreck of a city in a valley, and nature slowly reclaiming what belongs to it. From the ruin, a tiny wisp of smoke floats up, and that's the only way you know that someone survived the horrors that came before. Then again, this was all painted by me, and I, my friends, am not a very good artist.

There are stacks of books on the desk next to my bed. I rarely sit there. It operates like a large shelf, coated in stacks of books and paper and art supplies, filled with pencils and notebooks and my first aid kid and stickers. It's a cute set up, for sure, and I would sit there much more often, if it weren't for a few things. The chair is the wrong height and the desk is an even worse height, so when you sit on the chair at the desk, your legs are stuck, slightly smashed, in between the desk and the chair. It's dreadfully annoying, so I sit on my bed.

My bed is covered in blankets, one from each of my grandmothers, and an ombre blue comforter. It's got pillows and my stuffed animals, who I always feel slightly self conscious about having, except in my head I know that every female college student has at least one stuffed animal, they just be better or worse at hiding them. I situate myself directly in the middle of my bed, and I will say, it's a very comfy place to be. I've got a lap desk my brother gave me for my birthday a while back, and it's cracked and chipped and beat up, covered in pencil dust and nail polish drippings, but I love it and love using it. I'll use it fairly often, if I remember, because it's a lot more comfortable for my back and head and posture. It also says "You're doing amazing!" at the top. I think it was made for a little kid. I don't care.

I've got a light on the edge of my desk, and once the sun starts to set, I have to turn it on. My roommate and I don't talk at all, for no reason except that we never tried, so she'll come in and out of the room. Her side of our room is cluttered. There's chaos everywhere on her side, overflowing bags of food and paper and stacks of books slowly cascading to meet their untimely end at the floor. Mine is mostly put together, except for the sloping stacks of books. Usually I put in earbuds and listen to music while I work, and some days I try to multitask and get two birds out of the way with one stone and listen to a podcast or youtube video at the same time as I write(not a good choice, either the writing will be garbage or I won't get anything out of the video).

The night wears on, and if I'm lucky I'll type out enough of a story to satisfy me. Around eleven, I'll feel my brain start to click off, and wind up watching something on Youtube for real, this time. I'll snap my laptop shut a little bit later than I wanted, originally, and then go get ready for bed, my head filled with a sort of static that usually only happens once you run out of words to say. If I take a shower, I'll have a mental breakthrough and probably write for another twenty minutes after i get out, simply because I know if I don't write down my idea, it will be lost to the sands of time.

Anyways. Yeah. that's what it looks like where I write my stories. :D

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

For a given fanfic character, probably that the Dizznees have a TV. It's irrelevant and I never use that scrap of information, primarily because I fantasize about living in a world without screens to haunt all of our interactions and free time. I don't want people to watch TV mindlessly. I want them to sit around a fire and enjoy each other's company. It's my fanfic writing, I'll do what I want.

For an original character.... uhm. Amy and Tessa met in third grade, after Tessa switched from private school to public school. *shrugs* It means nothing to you, and it's also completely irrelevant to the story about them. It's so focused on their current happening that the past happenings don't matter. Y'all don't even know what story they're from lol. I should post that sometime.

Thanks for the asks! From this ask game.

[childoftheyellowsun]

I was setting at a table at this diner in Athens, which quite frankly became my favorite spot since I get the chills for the wooden chairs and the hidden table at the beach.

I became friends with Alex the bartender, he knows where I sit now. He also knows my breakfast everyday except when he sees I'm gleaming, he knows my appetite is good and I want something fancy for the day.

He always said there's just something about you when you take off your hat and show your tanned peeled face with your hair, put it on the table then smile, it's just when you announce a new day for me.

I always say well Alex you know a new sun means we survived and we get a new beginning, he says yes I know that's why people come here, this is why you came here isn't it?

I said yes Alex you got me I'm just tired of waking up everyday to the aftermath of the damage of the world left hanging over my shoulders when I never asked for it.

You left everything behind didn't you? He said

Yes, Alex I decided I no longer want to carry another baggage for the rest of my life, I'm done surviving and competing. Now I live. I replied

But not with what you built? He said.

I know you're curious about my reasons Alex, you can not comprehend the idea that I possibly found everything in the nothingness. Perhaps you can not fathom how I still wear the pride of my burning books and buildings. Little do you know son I wore them before I built any of them. I replied.

Are you happy now? He said

I smiled then finished my cigarette and put it in the sand then opened my notebook and picked up the pen and I was about to write something when I accidently looked up at the table in front of me to the left.

A mother with two kids. I smiled at her, she smiled back. She was beautiful. Golden short hair. A green dress.

_____________________________

I overheard her at the bar later talking to another mom " you thought it would fill you up that you would find it after the first kid but then you don't, then you have the other and you know it in yourself this time that you never will, you're just stuck with the choices you made."

I took it upon myself to interrupt their conversation: You know you wouldn't have found it in the other choices you know.

They both laughed and asked "how would you know?"

I was never happy. I replied

I was free and I wasn't happy

I had a family and I was never happy

I was surrounded by innocent unconditional love and I knew a kid is not what I wanted

I found true love and I wasn't happy

I had money. That didn't work out either

I saw the world and I felt that I left a different piece of me shattered all over in each corner before the world would even know my mom.

Who am I? I never knew

I had my share of beauty, luck, community, knowledgeI lost and I lost and I lost and I had so much to celebrate..

I looked for answers in all the books and songs and movies and other people's stories.

They filled my head so much with the idea that happiness is the end goal and I was always just a sad woman.

I couldn't let go of that. That in the end if all my efforts were in vein then I have become nothing and I would die ashamed of the lines engraved on my cheeks.

But I always felt something else

Matter of fact a lot of things.

Maybe all things other than happiness

I mean I know what it feels like

Yet it's not even the best of them

Why do they crawl so hard after it?

I gave up and I took a rest

I made up my mind

No more looking for something that I know isn't just out there

I made my peace with it, I will not be happy.

But I will be

Loss

Grief

New beginnings

Sunrises

Courage

Tented windows

Bathroom tiles

Inspiration

Daylight

Sadness

Tears

Air

Fearlessness

Breathe

A mom

A daughter

A sister

A lover

A caregiver

A protector

A fighter

Wild

Free

Music

Dancing

Sunsets

The end

Death

Acceptance

Forgiveness

Tenderness

Peace

Nothingness

Everthing

Feelings

Feelings

Feelings

Revolution

Knowing

Not knowing

God

Sympathy

Empathy

Sunshines

Mercy

The devil

Angels

Books

Universe

Collapses

Birds

What I have become of all the things that made me

The things no one can take away from me

I'm overflowing all the time

And I just can't help it

I'm dripping everywhere I walk

And I can't hold on to all those things

I can barely drag my feet behind me

But you can see it all in my face now

I found that the meaning of everything, the nothings and all that's in between is in the journey

There's no final destination

There is no answer

There is no happy

There is just this

You don't need to have it all

To have lived it all

It's already within

It's living

We knew it

From the beginning

From the moment we were born

Maybe you just didn't have to feel guilty when you took off your shoes and dipped your feet in the sand and took a long breath when the wave touched your toe

Maybe you didn't have to learn anything

Nothing at all

To deserve the ocean

To earn the sun

To love

And to be loved

W IS FOR "WHOLE UNIVERSE WITHIN ME"

Journal Entry No.5 2024

[mostlymalena]

Tuesday March 26th 3:26pm

Hello I know I know it's been some time. lots of spelling errors coming your way. I have started carrying around a little notebook so I can write down snippets of things that have happened so I can remember to write about them later. here we go

lets start with Saturday night. The usual group goes out and grace comes since we were close to getting back together (more on that later). We meet up with my good friend Ava at BP. Earlier in the week she posted on her story a picture of me calling me her crush as a joke bc we fuck off a lot and are idiots (love). This bitch Belle who I have hated since the day I fucking met her which was well well over a year ago.

Okay wait context: when me and P were dating his brothers formed a cutie little band and they needed a singer and idk I guess belle was friends with one of them but she joined. She always gave me shady vibes and they were reassured by her being fucking weird with P's brother while she had a boyfriend. Me and P used to talk the biggest shit about her and her behavior so all in all she has always rubbed me the wrong way. Well when she found out P and I had broken up (we were still seeing each other mind you) this bitch went full fucking speed clinging to P's dick. Posting him and asking him to hangout just the two of them, buying him things yada yada. Of course I bitched about it to P and he just amped it up bc it made me jealous.

So I have just icky vibes about her and knew they would hook up once P and I finally stopped talking. What do you know, rumor has it they do and no one is surprised at fucking all. Thank god I'm past the point where that caught me up bc it was sickening to hear about. Now it gives me second hand embarrassment. I feel like the first rule of thumb when you have a rebound is to make sure they are at least even remotely on the same level as your ex.

Anyways Ava posted me and Belle's fucking SISTER slide up going on about how I'm crazy and broke into P's house (no lmao just no) and yada yada. I wanna know if they all have so much to say why do you avoid bluepost so damn much??? yap yap yap on the internet and in my friends dm's and all ups and down town but cannot say shit to my face? Typical.

Can someone please let this 2 by 4 with eyes know that I am not a threat to her relationship with an AI generated line cook with 0 passion or excitement about anything that would extend past algebra and chess. Like please. Im so stupid to think everything was chiller. Legit thought everything was fine I was like like oh we both moving on that chill there is no bad blood lmao. WRONG> WREONG WRONG MALENA.

Also to me there is something about being with a man who is only not still fucking with his ex bc SHE moved on first. That just does not sit right with me. P came back from his trip ready to revamp whatever we had before he left and if I hadn't moved on (thankfully) while he was gone then we would still be swimming in the same circle. Whatever girl he has now or next or whatever he got going on that is not my business has got her work cut out for her. Lord have mercy.

I was really okay about it all but now I just feel like frustrated bc I do not understand why it matters much anymore. Miss me or dont but thats on you. Somedays I'm nostolgic about it somedays im not but im also never afraid to own up to my feelings or behavior. Im confused why men fuck with me and are obsessed with me bc im "different" "weird" "crazy" and "love that you dont act nonchalant" but when they cross me and I still behave that way THEN its a problem?

Mistakes are made when men think they are the exception and they never are nor will be ever again lmao.

I have soccer practice now so I'll have to write more later in the evening.

[thejacemister]

Remember when..

Remember when we walked into Pichardo’s class? Frank was my only friend in the school from Middle.

Remember when there was 4 of us sitting in Bio before the class got split up?

Remember when I had to go home early to go to the doctor’s? You asked me something before i left.

Remember when you were trying to get over Santi in French class? I wish I could’ve learned more french to talk at you.

Remember when “Judas” was one of your favorite songs?

Remember when..

Remember when you were obsessed with Emperor penguins?

Remember when Santi popped up on you unannounced at your house that one morning. you told me about it in class. one of the first times i saw you sad and frustrated.

Remember when Velez slapped your ass and used to call you flat? god he was such a fucking prick.

Remember when Lyn got with Momo and you became his confidante for a bit?

Remember when you got with Fluffy and then Setuain? I was there both days. I pushed Fluffy and then I pushed Alex. I liked you so much at that point, i didn’t have the self love I have now to ask you out myself. I felt they were better for you because who could like a kid like me? when they have so much more to offer? Alex’s brains and Matias’s charisma.

Remember when..

Remember when we all used to share food in and out of lunch? a surprise we didn’t get a mono. (but heather did)

Remember when we talked all break and you forgot about Alex? i didn’t mean to cause that. But i really liked you at that point. you were driving me insane.

Remember when I promised you I would always be your best friend? or when you promised me the same?

Remember when you used to tell me you love me or “lolololololooove me”?

Remember when you used to make whack whale jokes?

Remember when we used to say hi to each other? A kiss on your cheek to express the unspoken words i couldn’t find it in myself to tell you. or a huh to embrace you with that warm feeling I got everytime you would pass by me.

Remember when you misspelled your last name and failed that one notebook in Baglos?

Remember Baby Menendez? or when that was your contact name on my phone?

Remember when…

Remember when you, Kristhal and Lyn were inseparable? or when you and Lyn separated?

Remember when we all went to the bookfair. you had a blue striped sweatshirt or cardigan or whatever the fuck it’s called. i thought you were the prettiest girl at that fair.

Remember when we rode on the bus back? I couldn’t stop talking to Alex about how you made me feel.

Remember when we had the testing with Ms. Crawford?

Remember when you thought I was crying?

Remember when she called you a shone?

Remember those notes in my iPod?

Remember when…

Remember when I finally got the courage to ask you out? the results weren’t the best. but necessary for my character development.

Remember when we stopped talking?

Remember Stroy?

Remember when you started your sophomore year with your red hair? we still weren’t talking but I had to catch my breath when i glanced over at you

Remember when there was a rapgroup in our school and they beefed with Mario? and you were in the middle of it? peak high school drama ngl

Remember when Lyn dropped you for good? got good with your for 2 weeks and dropped you again?

Remember when we were friends with Camilo? you remember that Angel… right? he pushed me to talk to you. everytime he saw me with you, he would tell me to get out of my comfort zone and tell you how i felt about you. in my head i used to say “if you only knew what happened the last time I tried showing my guts to you”

Remember when I had all those songs I used to say reminded me of you? or the ones you would dedicate to me? “Corazon sin Cara”

Remember when I used to gush over your red hair?

Remember when i first met Jessica?

Remember when Rob came to see you guys? I was soooooo jealous.

Remember when…

Remember when we started talking again? worst time too. you were just starting to hook up with Stroy.

Remember when we had Malewski’s class? Remember that particular class where I knew I was in love with you?

Remember when you used to catch me looking at you?

Remember when we used to show how much we loved each other?

Remember those fights we used to have as friends? they used to get really ugly.

Remember how innocent we were?

Remember when i fb messaged you saying that bullshit ass line about looking up at the stars? barf.

Remember when I was at Benihana’s with my family and you were at work?

Remember when I used to double text?

Remember when I used to show you how much of a SIMP i was for you?

Remember when I gave up on you?

Remember when i got with Cynthia?

Remember when you talked shit on me? and her?

Remember when we broke up?

Remember the weekend you came back from a church retreat?

Remember that nasty fight? I told you a lot of mean things. and you responded in the same manner. I don’t blame you.

Remember the following days after the fight? it was like the eye of the hurricane. the wall of the hurricane (the fight) hit us both hard and other side of the hurricane was the end of our friendship and the start of something new.

Remember when we couldn’t decide if we should make it August 1 or August 20 (start of the new school year)?

Remember when I came to see you in a dress shirt and tie? I really wanted to impress you.

Remember that red/orange dress you had on with that gold belt? you looked stunning.

Remember our first kiss? or the one we had outside of the school on the first day back to publicize it to the world?

Remember when we used to say sweet little nothings to each other?

Remember when we made promises of the future? not knowing what life is about and making these promises? by the old gods and the new, we were both so naive. I meant every word of em and i hope you did too at the time.

Remember when you were taking x?

Remember when I made you stop? you never stopped resenting me for that. even years later.

Remember when I started smoking? I guess we all have demons we like to make ourselves be numb too.

Remember when I gave you the take care cd?

Remember when..

Remember when we traded iPods? I got to know your music taste a little more and you got to know mine.

Remember when we used to volunteer? I hated volunteering. But I used to do it with you. and that was worth losing sleep over.

Remember when Carlos was in the picture the first time?

Remember when I came and saw you at the hospital? I had NEVER been on a bus by myself and I took the complete OPPOSITE route to where you were at. don’t judge me 🙄 i told you that day I didn’t get in trouble. BUT i got grounded for awhile and never told you. you were worth getting in trouble for.

Remember when we went to the woods everyday after school?

Remember when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other?

Remember when I finally met Pita? she still talks about it to this day. and i told her how scared shitless I was because you and everyone was telling me she is the hardest one to win over. she laughed about it.

Remember when we made Ms. Vincent quit and Ms. Joseph picked us up REALLY fucking upset at us? we deserve it tbh. what kinda nerdy kids bullies a teacher. fucking savage.

Remember when 50% of our conversation were inside jokes?

Remember when you were would used Tango to video call every night?

Remember when you put me on to the Walking Dead and Prison Break? lets go further and say remember when you put me onto netflix?

Remember when we used to fall asleep on the phone? one time it got to 8 hours on the phone. I went to school with NO battery a few times.

Remember when I used to pick you up for every hug? remember the kiss you used to give me when I did that?

Remember when I skipped class to come see you and I got grounded for lying about being sick and coming to see you? I still got a new phone that day so who really ended up winning?

Remember when I used to have to text you from my iPod because i would get my phone taken away for being a prick of a child.

Remember Clash of Clans?

Remember when we used to sneak a few glanced at each other in spanish class? Jurrist always had to separate us during movie times. q chismosos son esos maestros diosmio

Remember when I used to wait for Pita or James to pick you up everyday after school?

Remember when you became with friends with Daron?

Remember when we smoked together? i’m sorry I took it so far. I always had a reason to smoke when i should’ve been finding reasons NOT to smoke. but hindsight is 20/20

Remember when you couldn’t go through IB? I was never disappointed in you. I always loved you regardless and supported you. IB was hard and its meant to break people. i’m surprised i got out in one piece myself.

Remember when we would see each other all summer going into Senior year?

Remember when you stayed at Pitas?

Remember when…

Remember when we would go to Lincoln Road or Aventura? any place with you was the highlight of the date as long as it was you.

Remember when I used to get down on one knee and tie your shoe?

Remember when I used to piss you off? sometimes I wasn’t the most mature guy. But you were really pretty when you got mad at me.

Remember when I introduced you to Robert and Anthony (fuck him btw)

Remember when you were Jc’s girl and I was Steph’s boy? i think that was the start of the falling out.. we stayed with that label when we are so much more. you were never JUST my girl. you should’ve always been Stephanie ft. Jc’s girl.

Remember when we went to visit Penn State? that was my first flight. and you held my hand the whole way. I was scared and shitting bricks. it makes me think of that Inception quote. “you’re waiting for a train. a train that will take you far away. you know where you hope this train will take you, but you can’t know for sure. yet it doesn’t matter.. because you’ll always be together”

Remember when we thought we were gonna grow old?

remember when…

Remember when we found a house last second?

Remember when we went with your dad in that uncomfortable ass truck (to this day, this is one of your most annoying days that i’ve ever had with you).

Remember when we first got to the house in Pennsylvania?

Remember when you only lasted a month in school?

Remember when you started working?

Remember when we started growing apart?

Remember when I betrayed you? I was playing Gears of War. you were doing Laundry. and you heard me talking to someone on the mic. looking back, i wish I could’ve slapped myself silly for being such a headass and letting myself get consumed with resentment and not talk things out with you and letting things happen the way they happened. but again. hindsight is 20/20. we must do better moving forward. its what i’ve been telling my cousins these days. your past actions do not define you. don’t let them define you by doing better. moving forward, move the right way to show you aren’t your past actions. that event was a shadow I couldn’t ever get myself out from under.

Remember when we broke up?

remember when…

Remember when we got back together? I knew what i was doing saying the things I did before the final breakup. I knew by telling you you were only the second choice then because homegirl did some shady shit, i knew you’d react accordingly. After all.. who wouldn’t right? having someone tell you that you were not the first choice again. that’s rough. younger me musta felt it was getting back for the lunchroom curb. But that was younger me. he was brash, arrogant, and frankly not a cool dude. a bit of an asshole too.

Remember when you told me you’d get over what I did? but you never did? its okay, i don’t blame you. that stain is VERY hard to wash.

Remember when we would spend summers with Rafa? and I would work in painting? i’m gonna level with you. the early mornings made me hate that job. and i would’ve stayed just for you. but truth is, i didn’t care for it. and it showed on my work. my lack of care. unfinished work. it just showed. another decline in the relationship.

Remember when Choco came into our lives? i won’t forget. after all, you did get with him and then gaslighted me into thinking I was making stuff up and grabbing at straws. taste of my own medicine huh? you pulled it off better than I did. props. that one hurt ngl. and it made for a helluva character development. the worst part is, you’re never going to admit it to me. I never got closure for it. and I guess i don’t deserve it at this point. But to counter my own point, i’m at the point where i’ve moved on. I know the truth and that’s all that matters. I can live with that.

Remember when you worked at Macy’s? Remember when I used to walk to the bus stop every night to receive you? highlight of my nights every fucking night tbh. Walking up the mountain with you… is something I can never forget about. I still have dreams of just us walking in the night catching pokemon and just talking like two kids talking.

Remember when you got me dming other girls and saving pics? I had a problem. a bad one. I was just a piece of shit tbh. because how could I hurt the one person I claim to love? Those are things I look back in shame. How could I, as a man, have done that to the supposed love of my life with whom i had wanted to marry? I know that soured it for you more.

Remember when we ran from PA and came back to Miami?

Remember when I got kicked out and had no place to live?

Remember when you took me in?

Remember when I supported you through your Mother’s crazy escapades every night?

Remember when we had a month and a half to look for an apartment or we’d be out on the streets?

Remember when it started raining the day we had to move?

Remember when we FINALLY moved into our apartment? the start of the lease was our anniversary.

Remember when I was your chauffeur? I was the only driver and frankly I liked driving you around.

Remember when we adopted Luna?

Remember when we adopted JD? i was such a bad parent.

Remember when…

Remember when I got into the accident? I blamed you for it. Why did i do that? I hate myself for doing that. I was a spiteful and hateful little cunt. Gods was i a fucking prick By what right did i have to blame you for anything? what a fucking dumbass.

Remember when I worked at Winn Dixie?

Remember when I drove all day and night from Maryland with a new car?

Remember when I got moved to Autozone?

Remember when you told me you couldn’t stand Regina?

Remember when your mom moved in with us. I should’ve left her on the streets where she belongs. (jk she had pita to stay over at, but still)

Remember when I became a burnout?

Remember when we had no privacy?

Remember when we had no time for us?

Remember when my wrongdoings kept rearing its ugly head? maybe that was one of the factors for moving to Maryland.

Remember when we sold the van for extra cash to get us to Maryland?

Remember when we went to Washington DC?

Remember when I warned you about your cousin Pablo?

Remember when you accused me of being a misogynist? I was never a fucking misogynst. I would never deny you of anything kind of freedom. you were just you and didn’t let yourself do these things. this was another way of you gaslighting me. Now i know why you were throwing around that word in the end. ‘cause you were doing it to me.

Remember when you started working in the company?

Remember when you forgot I was your boyfriend? or your best friend?

Remember when I went to down to Miami under the guise of signing the lease for renewal / taking a break to “reestablish our priorities” but it was just an excuse for you to fuck Choco in a hotel unbeknownst to me?

Remember when I came back and I caught on to you two without even knowing the full truth?

Remember when you gaslighted me?

Remember when I threatened to leave? Cuba was the only one who knew what was happening. and he (with a blowup mattress) told me I can stay with him till i get on my feet. he didn’t have to do that. he didn’t know me. but he offered himself anyways. I took him up on his offer and told him nevermind. because you had already let me go.

Remember when I kept trying to get back with you

Remember when

Remember when I still stayed even after we broke up? i was fucking miserable.

Remember when I went nuclear?

Remember when I left from one day to the next? I was gonna give 2 weeks. but in my time of need, Pita told me “fuck rafa and fuck their company. they want to treat you like that? you don’t deserve that. they do not deserve 2 weeks. go fill the gas tank. drop it off. and come back to Miami because I have a room waiting for you” godbless her.

Remember when I was leaving that night. I asked you if there was anything you had to say. I was hoping you’d tell me not to go. It hurt when you didn’t . maybe if you had i would’ve stayed. but looking back… me staying wouldn’t have helped.

Remember when I told you not to worry where i’m going? One of the boys used one of your company trucks, took off the GpS and drove me and Michael to the airport. I slept at the airport and waited for my flight the following morning. slept is the wrong word. “i endured the night” is more like it.

Remember when you and your mom found out where i ended up the following morning?

Remember when I came back and slept on your bed? Frankly it was fucked up of you too. I put my credit on the line to get yall the two mattresses which you never helped me payback. instead you were using that same mattress for whoever you wanted in your bed. while sleeping on your exbf’s credit. must be nice.

Remember when you would hear about me through Jane? the evil part of me whispered lies about her to you in a way to turn her against you. luckily she was smart enough to catch on. my other biggest mistake. letting myself hit rock bottom and doing some scummy shit like that.

Remember when you came down and we ate nitrogen ice cream? that day was perfect. it was a glimpse of us. it was like nothing happened. it was just you and me again. and in that moment it was perfect. But i knew once it ended, we were still gonna be done. it was bittersweet and i still hold on to that memory.

Remember when I left Pita’s? I couldn’t go back with my mom. i didn’t have ANYWHERE to go. so i stayed in my car. I slept in my car and used my friends bathroom to shower everyday. she was heavensent in that little time period.

Remember when I moved back to Pita’s?

Remember when your mom cried wolf and painted me as a rapist/violator? I reached my low point when you, jessica and everyone had me believe what Jessica was saying was true. but yet… you knew me. and you know the kinda person your mom is and yet you still believed her…

Remember when you got the call the same night and you chewed me up and spit me back out the next morning. how could I argue? after all i blacked out after two drinks. two cocktails. by 10pm i was blacked out. we had gotten there maybe a little more than half hour before that. explain how that happens?

Remember when you thought I was lying about your mom and how she was treating me at work?

Remember when you disowned me basically. and wanted nothing to do with me for “taking advantage of your mom?”

Remember when your mom was 2 months behind on rent and since it was my name on the lease, I was going to get evicted for not even fucking living there?

Remember when I asked you nicely to help me get your mom out of the apartment because of the eviction and you called me crazy and that its never gonna happen? and then remember when I fixed myself and said “this wasn’t me asking for permission. its a courtesy call. its going to happen in 2 weeks.”

Remember when you accused me of being heartless for kicking your mom and brother out of the apartment? completely disregarding that you woulda let me stay on the streets in the comfort of my car than help me take back MY apartment (cause lets be honest, that apartment was a joint effort to keep and maintain. and you lost that privilege when you stayed up there with Enrique). you can have your cake but you can’t eat it you greedy shit.

Remember when your mom went batshit crazy (q raro) and instead of 2 weeks she was out in 1 week because she had been secretly bringing Carlos to the apartment after saying she has had no contact with him.

Remember when that came to light and it cleared my name? I had told Pita before about what happened that night. and I was sure to make Jessica the sympathetic character in the story. and she said that she doesn’t believe that story Jessica cooked up. Her own mother knows the kind of serpent her daughter is. that’s saying a lot. that gave me the conviction to do what i did near the end.

Remember when you wanted to talk to me after the whole thing with Jessica came out? You wanted to apologize for not believing me. unluckily for you, you finished showing me exactly the kind of person you are. and so i sent you to go eat shit and that you were gonna end up like your mom. at that point I no longer wished to get with you anymore. everything before your grandma believing me about the so called “violation” was me trying to get back with you and i would HAVE never jeopardized that. but that was long gone at that point.

Remember when I would’ve done anything to stay with you? and Now i’d do anything to prevent myself from being hurt again. yet here i find myself going down memory lane speaking into the infinite void in the internet for anyone to hear me.

Remember when I thought we were gonna be together forever? Those were the hopes and dreams of a boy. completely unrealistic expectations for a relationship that never progressed and was unable to allow two individuals to coincide and grow with each other than without.

The man i am now will always remember this. From this day to my last. I am not my past actions, and neither are you. When i move forward I try and do things the right way. to show myself and everyone else that I am better than the atrocities i’ve committed in my past. if you aren’t doing the same then the most I can say is, good luck, charlie.

Remembering when I had all these good and bad times with you is very bittersweet. but I look back and smile. they were beautiful memories. and younger me would’ve loved to make more memories with you. but i’m afraid it’s not something that is in the cards. for either of us. for me its to protect myself from getting hurt like that. and I know for you, its because you don’t even want to look at me. to you i’ve cause you a lot of damage. your reality is your reality as is mine. I won’t apologize for standing up for myself. take it how you want it. it no longer matters to me. I know the truth. and I will never light myself on fire just to keep someone else warm.

“Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love”

-ya boy Shakespeare

[tgtncomic]

In grade school, I asked my dad to draw Jacques Cartier for a history project I wrote on my own. Because of his poorly shapen drawing with oval eyes and a mustache, this became the spark of why I wanted to draw.

Throughout my high school year of assault and regret of sharing my art to others since they’d destroyed my creativity, made me feel very protective of my work. College came by and someone asked me to join their club due to my art. For once, I finally found my niche of friends. I found my creativity flourished with filling up my notebooks with so many drawings.

They stopped being friends when my pet needed some comfort. I found a teacher who was kind enough to drive me to the station with my pet black cat. This cat saved me during my first attempt. I’m grateful he was in my life. It was his passing that gave me the strength to move forward, take control of my life, and live independently on my own. Sometimes I reflect on getting another void baby to fill my role of motherly love.

Yet the real lesson was to love yourself. I fight this everyday. People think I’m crazy. Then again, no one knows how to deal with negative thoughts daily and they harass me daily. Trying to wake up each day was a battle to fight against chattering voices. Sometimes they win and I have scars afterwards of them yelling at me.

The one thing that I can count on myself is my art. It may not be great, it may not cost much, I still need to practice, and it cuddles the voices while listening to music as I draw. Each drawing tends to reflect an idea, a character I obsess over, a drawing to reflect my sanity, and a comic that reflects my opinions of this desolate rock in the depths of space. We want to connect to each other and try to reach out to many people to show our value. Before our time ends on this lonely rock, we want to make our mark, hoping one day there will be tales of the achievements during our lives.

In conclusion, I draw art as a self coping mechanism from my own corrupted mind. I want to showcase that maybe I can get that hit of dopamine and praise I so desperately need to fight off the demons in my mind. I may be awkward, quiet, and self reclusive, but it seems my art seems to make people happy. Is it foolish to entrust your value from other people? Am I selfish? I want to draw to get rid of the voices and doodling on an electronic device seems to be the answer.

Thank you for coming this far. I dunno if I can call myself an artist, I just draw as a form of escapism. Sometimes, that is what drives you to wake up each morning and take on the world.

That is ok with me.