#the prompt was post graduation i think? but seeing as i didn't really respond to the prompt itself

[averlym]

,,, sun-dappled sheets...

[theowildewrites]

20 Things to Say

Using the prompt I found on Steph Bowe's blog again because it's been a year since I posted the OG on my other blog, and I've met new people since then. To recap, these are twenty things I would like to say to twenty people. These people will not be identified.

Read this, and then you can go and make a list of things you would like to say to other people.

You sent me a text four months ago and I forgot to respond. It's too late to respond now without this being awkward. It keeps me up at night.

I miss your company, and I don't think you even remember mine.

Your novel wasn't intelligible, I just didn't want to tell you because you were ten. You're probably old enough to hear it now, but I'm not going to drag it out of the aether.

Your advice means the world to me.

You stopped responding to my emails one day. I wonder if something happened to you but don't want to be nosy.

I wrote a poem for you one time and never showed you.

I think it's weird that you compare me to your younger self in every conversation.

I'm gay. I say this only because you ranted to me about lgbtq+ teens.

I'm not actually interested in a graduate degree in your subject, but I think it's great how passionate you get when you talk about it.

Musical theatre drama: I think you were miscast.

I'm somehow still jealous of you.

I actually believed you when you told me you could see the future in sixth grade. I wasn't just joking.

I wish you wouldn't try to hard to gain validation from people who will stop caring about you when you stop trying.

I think you are a fantastic conversationalist and that some day people are going to discover you and you are suddenly going to have thousands of friends.

I don't really like your laugh, and I feel very bad about this, because I like you quite a bit.

I wish you would stop trying to psychoanalyse me; you're really quite bad at it.

I'm glad my first impression of you was wrong.

I am still holding a grudge over the time you told me off in third grade over a poem analysis I still believe is correct.

I think you are going to be rich and famous and even more awesome than you already are in the future, but you would look at me funny if I told you that.

I found out recently about a thing you did to me years ago when we didn't like each other, and I'm not going to bring it up now that we are friends.

[derekluvbot]

And 70 gotch!!! (i would send more but i dont wanna overwhelm you!!)

a/n: i kinda cheated and switched up the wording but this was very fun. (and if you're looking for more gotch content i'll have a full length fic posted tomorrow morning if i can get through editing it)

prompt: “I could tell it was your favorite book from all the notes you wrote in the margins.”

wordcount: 628

warnings: a little nsfw if you squint but really hard it's really just the two of the being flirty. pre-relationship. getting together.

"Knock knock!"

Hotch looks up from the mountain of paperwork on his desk. The semi permanent frown that usually graces his countenance falls when he sees the cheery technical analysis at his doorway.

"Garcia, come in."

Penelope teeters into his office in her hot pink heels, and Hotch finds it secretly very enduring.

"What can I do for you?"

She holds up a well worn copy of As I Lay Dying. "Just here to return this."

"Oh, what did you think?"he asks, gesturing for her to sit down. Penelope crosses further into the room and takes a seat across from him at his desk. He had a lot more files to finish, and he probably shouldn't be taking a break to chit-chat but if there's a choice between being talking with Penelope and completing case reports, well there's really no competition is there?

"It's a lot more... gloomy than the books I usually read, but I really did enjoy it."

"Well yes, Faulkner isn't known for his thrilling romance scenes, but I'm glad to hear that Penelope", he chuckles. "I'm just shocked you've never had to read it in school."

"Oh we probably did at one point". she shrugs. "I could have easily been too distracted with whatever government database I was hacking in high school to be bothered with it."

"As your supervisor, i didn't hear that", he responds warily, peering over his nose. Despite his serious expression, he knows there's no real threat behind it. (So does she.)

"I'm just teasing, Hotch. I didn't start all that illegal business till after graduation", she explains with a wink.

Despite himself he chuffs out a laugh. "Don't make me put you back on that watchlist Garcia."

"You wouldn't dare."

He raises an eyebrow that seems to say "try me." Something passes between them and the air suddenly feels a little too warm. Garcia almost wants to push it further, but thinks better. She clears her throat, and the moment passes.

"So how long have you had this copy? It looks well loved", the tech genius asks.

" 'Well loved' is one way to put it. But I've had this specific copy since college. It's one of my favorites, and even though I didn't study it, I had it with me all through law school."

"I can tell it means alot to you, just from all the notes you left in the margins. I probably enjoyed reading them more than more than the actual book'", she admits. "It was kinda like I was having your voice in my ear, reading right along with me." Hotch is looking at her with a sort of shocked expression, and she suddenly realizes what she said, and begins to back pedal.

"Sorry, that came out weird. I just meant you annotate really well and I like--"

"It's not weird", he interrupts her before she can spiral anymore. Penelope is staring back at him, looking uncharacteristically bashful. "I'm glad someone enjoys my ramblings. And--", he pauses, working up his nerve, "if you'd like to talk more, about Faulkner, or anything else, maybe we can meet up sometime? Somewhere that isn't my office, I mean."

There's a beat of silence where Penelope is processing his words Aaron is holding his breath, just before her lips slip into a familiar, flirty grin.

"Agent Hotchner, if I didn't know any better, it would sound like you're asking me on a date. Am I right?"

All Hotch can do for a second is shake his head fondly; He knows he's been caught.

"Well that depends", he starts. "Do you promise not to report me to HR if I say yes?"

"Only if I can get you to read some of my "thrilling romance" novels."

"You've got a deal."

--

[catholicartistsnyc]

Meet: Emily Claire Schmitt

EMILY CLAIRE SCHMITT is a NYC-based playwright. (www.emilyclaireschmitt.com and Twitter: @Eclaire082)

CATHOLIC ARTIST CONNECTION (CAC): What brought you to NYC?

EMILY CLAIRE SCHMITT (ECS): I'm originally from Cincinnati, Ohio and I did my undergrad at Saint Mary's College in Indiana.  I always hoped to move to New York and I was fortunate that a few things fell into place for me when I graduated.  I was accepted into the New School for Drama's MFA program directly from undergrad.  I had applied to schools all over the country, and this happened to be both my top choice and only acceptance letter.  My college boyfriend's family is from Staten Island, so he moved back home and we were able to stay together.  Now that boyfriend is my husband, so I'm here to stay.

CAC: What do you see as your personal mission as a Catholic working in the arts?

ECS: First off, I love this question.  I think about this a lot, and I always try to pray a bit before I start writing, even if what I'm working on isn't an overtly religious piece.  I believe that God wants to be present with us as we grapple with the world and, while I don't let religious doctrines limit the content of my writing, my writing is always filtered through a worldview that God exists.  

A great deal of my art is critical of the institutional Church, but I'm still very insistent that I am a Catholic writer, as opposed to a formerly Catholic writer. There is a fundamental difference between someone who critiques from within and someone who has left the Church and is describing the experience that caused them to leave.  This distinction is supremely important to me.

I believe my vocation as a writer is to be a tool for God to express Themself in the world.  Sometimes this means representing the beauty of God's world, but more often than not it means shining light on that which is not in alignment with the Divine, whether within secular society or within the Church.  I hope that my work makes both religious and secular people uncomfortable.  I hope it makes them wonder what God thinks about them.

CAC: Where have you found support in the Church for your vocation as an artist?

ECS: I've been extremely fortunate to have made great connections with fellow Catholics in the arts.  I've worked with Xavier Theatre and Film, a Jesuit theater company, and they produced a showcase of my play "The Chalice" at the Stonewall Inn.  This was one of the highlights of my career thus far, an intersection of the Catholic and secular world that was truly fulfilling.

CAC: Where have you found support among your fellow artists for your Catholic faith?

ECS: It's a mixed bag.  Grad school was not a positive experience for me in terms of acceptance. After 16 years of Catholic education, I was suddenly in a secular world and I made a lot of mistakes in terms of how I presented myself.  I was wrestling with my faith privately, but fiercely defending it publicly, which is never a good tactic.  I didn't feel safe.  I no longer work with anyone from grad school, and that's best for all of us.

However, post graduation I have really found an artistic community with people of all faiths.  I have frequent collaborators who are non-Catholic Christians, members of other faiths, atheists, and agnostics.  I've found a particular home with The Skeleton Rep, a theater company that focuses on "building modern myth."  My religious beliefs really mesh with their interests, despite being a completely secular company.  I am currently developing a musical with them. 

CAC: How can the Church be more welcoming to artists?

ECS: Stop policing our content.  The vocation of an artist is to observe, critique, and respond.  It is not the vocation of the artist to simply listen and accept doctrine without question.  This means that there is an essential tension between the work of being an artist and the work of being a practicing Catholic.

As an artist, I don't have the luxury of keeping my disagreements with the Church private. I promise I'm listening and it's possible to change my mind. Please be patient with me.

CAC: How can the artistic world be more welcoming to artists of faith?

ECS: I think this is a difficult question because in most of the instances where people have been unwelcoming to me, it's because they have been hurt in some serious way by the Church.  It's taken me a long time to accept that, while I have not personally hurt them, I am part of an institution that has and it's not unreasonable for them to ask me to answer for that.

I try to be clear about my beliefs and about why I have chosen to remain in the Church.  I also try to articulate how I'm striving to make the Church better, while remaining firm in my support of Her.  I have to be both gentle and unafraid about how and why I disagree with the secular world as well.  Once again, I promise I'm listening and it's possible to change my mind.  Please be patient with me.

CAC: Where in NYC do you regularly find spiritual fulfillment?

ECS: I'm a bit of a parish hopper.  When I first came to NYC I fell in love with Saint Francis Xavier, near Union Square.  Their Young Adults Group was a great community for me, but after moving to Brooklyn and back I'm not as involved as I once was.  I've become more interested in traditional, more formal, liturgies. Saint Joseph of Yorkville is a beautiful neighborhood parish that has a highly reverent modern mass.  There are so many families with children there, it gives me great hope.  And the pastor is the man who reported on McCarrick so that's no small thing.... I like a priest I can respect, for obvious reasons.

When I'm feeling in particular need of deep ritual, I do love a Latin Mass. Saint Agnes by Grand Central is a great place to go for that. 

CAC: Where in NYC do you regularly find artistic fulfillment?

ECS: I already mentioned The Skeleton Rep, but one thing they do which I love are monthly artist salons.  Artists will get together, drink wine, and read new work, either a full play or short plays based on a prompt.  There is no formal feedback, just a chance for the writer to hear her play.  And afterwards we have a party.

CAC: How have you found or built community as a Catholic artist living in NYC?

ECS: Connecting with Brother Joe Hoover at Xavier Theater has really connected me with a great community of Catholic artists.  He has a way of making connections and bringing together a dynamic and diverse group of people with a huge variety of perspectives on the faith.  If you ever get the chance to work with them I highly recommend it.  Joe is a fantastic playwright and actor in his own right.

CAC: What is your daily spiritual practice?

ECS: I wish I had a better one...  I pray every day before I write.  My husband and I pray together before meals.  Recently, we've been doing a daily reflection before bed.  It's just one of those Little Blue Books you pick up from your parish during Advent, but it's been great.

CAC: What is your daily artistic practice? And what are your recommendations to other artists for practicing their craft daily?

ECS: I try to write for an hour every morning after working out and before leaving for work. This is really my sacred time: after my husband leaves, freshly showered, and place to myself.  It's short but it's extremely important.  And I can't stress enough the value of praying before you write. 

CAC: Describe a recent day in which you were most completely living out your vocation as an artist. What happened, and what brought you the most joy?

ECS: The most recent Skeleton Rep salon was on New Year's Eve.  I wrote a short piece for the event which spoke of my Catholic faith and it's relationship to the mission of the company.  Afterwards, another artist present pulled me aside to talk about how he is a Catholic as well but had stopped going to Church.  He was interested in going back, so we spent a long time talking about why I felt it was important for young Catholic artists to be in the faith and engage with it from the inside.  The whole conversation was so fulfilling for me. 

CAC: You actually live in NYC? How!?

ECS: I need to be completely up front and say that I have been incredibly privileged in terms of financial support from my family.  This is something we do not talk about enough in the arts.  My parents paid my rent and my tuition while I was in school and I am debt-free.  I'm also married to someone with a traditional career who contributes the majority of our income.  I am so incredibly fortunate it's not even funny.  

CAC: But seriously, how do you make a living in NYC?

ECS: Even with the financial support, I do have a full-time day job.  I don't know how anyone would make rent or buy groceries without one.  I work in social media marketing, which is great because it's mostly all remote.  I've also been nannying for my cousin's baby so making that sweet side cash.

It's a lot of work, and keeping my passion afloat on top if it, and making sure it remains my focus rather than just a "hobby" is a constant battle.

CAC: How much would you suggest artists moving to NYC budget for their first year?

ECS: I can't give a great answer to this, because it's so varied and I was in school when I started.  But consider that your monthly rent is likely to be over 1K no matter where you live.

CAC: What other practical resources would you recommend to a Catholic artist living in NYC?

ECS: I can't recommend enough reaching out to Xavier Theater for professional connections.  In terms of headshots, Joe Loper is a former classmate of mine who does a great job and is very reasonable. http://joeloper.com/

CAC: What are your top 3 pieces of advice for Catholic artists moving to NYC?

ECS: 1.) Don't rush finding your people.  It's a big city and it takes time.

2.) Exercise.

3.) Go to confession.  Why make art with sin on your soul?

[fangroyal]

post break up kiss + Draise. thank you!!!

(I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this!! I love these kiss prompts, though, so it was super fun to write. Hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3

It had been ten years since they’d seen each other.

After the war, many had returned to Hogwarts to finish out their education, and then shortly after they’d graduated, Draco had decided he’d needed a change of scenery. Wizarding society in the U.K. knew too much about him, he’d said; everyone knew his name, what he’d done, what his family had done. He would never escape it, were he to stay. And so he’d moved to France. Last Blaise had heard, he was playing chaser for the national team’s reserves. Of course, that was only what he’d been able to gather from mutual friends; neither had done so much as send the other an owl in that entire time.

Ten years, and now Draco was coming back for a visit. He’d done so a few times before, that Blaise knew of. Not that he’d ever been invited, of course. He was kipping at Pansy’s for a week, and she’d decided to throw a dinner party, get the old gang back together, for his first night in town.

“And you’re sure he wanted me there as well?” Blaise had asked Pansy, when she’d informed him of the plan.

“Don’t be silly, of course he does,” she’d responded hurriedly, as if the very idea was absurd. But really, it didn't feel like it was to him. And he saw the same sentiments reflected in Theo’s concerned glance from behind her back.

Because it had been ten years since they’d seen each other. And the last time they had, it had been through teary eyes, as they watched the relationship they’d built come crumbling down around them.

Blaise had quit smoking four years ago, and he was pretty sure he’d blown through an entire pack just in the last couple days leading up to the party. He’d breezed through Pansy’s Floo that evening, tired and annoyed and lacking even the slightest ounce of desire to be there in the first place. He was sure this was going to be hell. Was positive that Draco didn’t, in fact, want him to be there, and that whatever interaction they had–if any at all–would be awkward and forced, and both he and Blaise would constantly have to be skirting around their own goddamn friends just to stay out of each other’s way, and–

And yet, when he’d finally walked into that living room, he’d felt all the air in his lungs slip away from him. Draco was seated on a couch with Theo, a glass of cabernet held on his knee, his opposite arm draped across the cushion behind their mutual friend as they talked. He just looked so perfectly poised, elegant, unphased, and Blaise was shocked that he even still had legs to stand on when Draco finally noticed him and a small, shy smile graced his lips.

They ended up sitting across from each other at the dining table, and Blaise spent the meal attempting subtlety. Pushing thirty, and Draco was still the most gorgeous bloody thing to walk this earth. Quidditch had done him well, too, from the looks of it. Blaise couldn’t help but steal a glance whenever an opportunity presented itself. But then, he’d always had that effect on him. It was why he’d told him that they couldn’t go back to being friends.

Initially, he’d wanted to refuse Pansy’s invitation because he’d assumed it would be weird, for them to both be in the same room, after everything. He thought that it would’ve hurt to be around Draco because of the way they’d left things. It hadn’t exactly been pretty, how it had all come to an end. He realized now how stupid that had been. No one was treating it that way; it had been ten years since they’d dated, for Merlin’s sake, no one cared. They were still delicately stepping around each other, but it had been a long time. It would take more than one night for them to fall back into a friendship. The problem for Blaise was that…he couldn’t stop looking at him. And wondering. And hoping. And wishing for something of note to say, just to get Draco to look his way again, too.

After dinner, everyone returned to the living room, tossing around the idea of whether or not they should all head out to the pubs, for old time’s sake. Blaise decided he needed a moment alone–to breathe, to collect himself, because every minute he spent looking at Draco, he felt like he was falling apart–and headed into the kitchen on the pretense of refreshing his drink.

Of course, it would just so happen that Draco was already in there, doing the very same. He was standing on the other side of the counter when Blaise came in, and they both froze, eyes wide, as the door swung shut behind him. The air prickled with tension and things unspoken. Blaise knew he should say something; they hadn’t said even two words to each other all night. Instead, he muttered an apology and turned to leave, but stopped when he heard Draco’s voice chime in, soft and hesitant:

“I’m moving back here.”

Blaise swivelled around to level a confused stare at the other, whose head was bent, eyes studying his glass. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Got transferred to Ireland.” Draco smiled to himself as he fiddled with the label on the wine bottle, ignoring Blaise’s furrowed brows. “Nothing’s official yet, so I’m not really supposed to be talking about it, but it’s pretty well set. We’ve basically done everything but sign the papers.”

“Have you told anyone else?” He shook his head. “Why are you telling me, then?”

Draco said nothing more, but glanced up, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Blaise felt his pulse quicken. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d taken the three strides that separated him from the counter, pressing against it as he leaned towards Draco on the other side. The blonde didn’t back away, but seemed to shift forward as well. Why on earth had he chosen to tell Blaise that, of all people, and no one else? Somewhere inside him, he wanted to think he knew the answer. He closed the gap between them in the hopes of finding out.

They both seemed to be taken by surprise by what happened next. Even Blaise, despite the fact that he’d started it. Then a contented sigh hummed at the point in which their lips met. Whether it was he who’d made the sound, or Draco, he wasn’t certain. Either way, the resistance he’d expected to be met with wasn’t there in the slightest. The kiss was tender, gentle, a little more reserved than either of them were known for–but it warmed him from the inside out, from his head down to his toes. His heart skipped a beat when Draco tilted his head to the side, pressing more firmly against him–at least as much as the counter between them would allow for–and slid his hand across to find Blaise’s own and lace their fingers together.

“I think The Witchery might be nice, it’s been forever since we’ve gone there, and–oh shit, oh Merlin, I’m so so sorry!”

Blaise and Draco broke apart as if in a daze and looked to the door, where they could see a flustered Pansy hurrying back out, shooing away a giggling Daphne and a grinning Theo along the way. “So sorry!” she exclaimed again, “We’ll, uh, just see ourselves out! Let us know when you’re ready to go!” With that, they were left alone once more–and now with the realization of what they’d just done.

“Well…” Draco finally said, clearing his throat awkwardly. But they were still holding hands, Blaise noticed. And he could see the blush in the other’s cheeks, and even after all this time, he wanted to think he knew that meant.

Feeling emboldened, he decided to go for it. “You’re here for a week, right?” Draco nodded. “Well, then, if Pansy isn’t monopolizing your time too much…could I take you out one of these nights?”

He smiled, then; not the shy, barely-there one Blaise had seen when he’d arrived earlier, but genuine, lighting his face like the sun. He felt their fingers squeeze tighter together as Draco replied, “I’d like that.”