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callmeasyouwantidk · 3 years

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3, 6, 12, and 21 for the Writer Asks, please! 🤗 💜

Thank you for the ask Hiro!

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3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing?

My favorite is the feeling you get when you have finished writing so you reread it to make sure everything is correct.

My least favorite is writers block. AHHHGHHHHGHGGGGGGGG

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6. Favorite character you've written?

I never wrote originals yet (even tho I'm thinking on it) so my fav is Butsuma with completely different attitude in my mid-century AU. I made him like, as strong, as serious, but now he takes everything close to heart and just had to go with it because a good king can't allow himself to be a crybaby in the war. He was suffering and I loved to reread about it. Usual writer stuff, nothing new)

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12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why?

Honestly I'm not sure here. There are like three stories that r good enough to be my favs. I can't decide... Ugh. Whatever. Basic review of them 😅: First story is basically about Tobirama getting kidnapped when he is a child (like, 6 months or so) by Tajima. That happened while Butsuma was at his mission and Tobi's mom was about to give birth to Itama so Hashirama and Tobi were with their nany. But what can a regular human nany do when at the window she sees the head of the Uchiha clan? Only try to get the children to safety or get help. Unfortunately, Tajima got his hands on one of the boys before nany could. Now Tobirama grows up among the Uchiha as one of them, with only one goal - to kill his father, brothers, mother, and his own clansman. He succeeded at killing two of his brothers at young age, and killing his mother while a teen. Tajima gets physical pleasure when he sees Butsuma clutch his teeth in anger and dispare every fight Tobi includes. Not gonna go farther, too long, but you got the spirit.

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Second story is about Hashirama getting caught prisoner while Tajima is still ruling the clan. He learns that he was caught when he used himself as a shield to save Tobirama from a wicked two way attack that would have killed him. He also learns that even tho he did save him, the poisoned blade did a little cut, so Tobi will die from it in few days. Gotta get out. While trying to find his way out, Hashi stumbles upon his father and father's good friend who went missing four years ago, who's also held prisoners. Same story - too long to tell, but you got the spirit.

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3rd story has two versions. This is Ver 1. It's the AU I'm currently working on. Mid-century AU, where people have wings (type and colour of wing depends on personality, hair colour, and mobility of the person. Also it might depend on the wings your ancestors had.) and magic. Butsuma is the king, Tajima is the king. Senju kingdom grew weaker lately, because many of their blacksmiths have been slaughtered in one of the attacks on kingdom, and the army needs weapons. Because now the knights gotta run around the field looking for a weapon in case they don't have their anymore, they grow more and more tired after every fight. The Knights of the Round Table (which includes Butsuma and his knights) decided that the kingdom is growing too weak, and judging from Uchihas actions, they realize it too and don't hesitate to use the opportunity. They have decided that if the Uchiha kingdom does one strong enough strike with all their power, it might even be the end of it. To prevent this happening Butsuma calls Tajima for negotiation. He says that both armies are tired and that it might be good to take a break and form temporary peace, let the armies rest for a while, heal up, and continue. Tajima, of course knew where it was coming from, and it was far from the deal he was willing to make, so he asked for a payment. He said that he will consider such deal, if Butsuma gives him one certain payment to stay away. The payment is Butsuma himself. Tajima asked Butsuma to give himself in as a prisoner. A slave. Only in such case will Tajima agree. Having no other choice Butsuma agrees, signs the contract, and gives himself in, leaving a wife and his four children. While being an Uchiha slave he is treated even worse then a homeless alcoholic. Leaving in a cell in dungeons. In summer/autumn and spring working on the fields, and in winter helping as a servant. For every little mistake he was punished with a certain amount of whip blows that would leave him a bloody mess, and a lot of deep bruises. He was given only the things that he need not to die to quickly. In cold winters he had to swallow his pride and beg for something warm. The only way to get a little food for him was to pleasure Tajima in a naughty way (if you know what I mean ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). His status here was lower then a dog's, so anyone and everyone could do whatever they wanted with him. He had to do every request regardless of anything. Because of constant physical and emotional stress of more or less regular punishments and the inability to say "no" to all the perverted guards around the castle he aged greatly in a not so long amount of time, even tho he also did a lot of work to adapt. Madara was helping him tho, as much and as well as he could. He would call him in for said "naughty time" but would let him just sit and rest for an hour after which let him go. He would bring him a little of bread if Butsuma didn't eat for more then 3 days. He would help him get treatment if Butsuma got ill. Ten years later, when Madara grew to be 24 he made an assassination on his father because didn't agree with his perverted way of spreading tyranny not only on Butsuma, but through the kingdom itself. He became the king, and let Butsuma back to his family, shortly after which they made a permanent peace treaty.

Ver2. All the same but instead of asking for Butsuma to turn himself in, Tajima asked for one of his children. Through days of thinking of a way to get out of the situation, and Tobirama saying his word, Butsuma sends Tobi to Tajima as a prisoner. For Tobi it's all the same story but only that people get their wings only when they turn 18, and in the Uchiha castle it is forbidden for anyone to use wings except the royal family. Tobi had to learn to control his wings while always being at risk of them opening randomly and getting him in a lot of trouble. Bit again, Madara helped him with that.

Very 2 has a different ending tho. At some point when Tobi is around 22 the Uchiha kingdom suffers an attack from a big enemy coming for Tajima. During that attack, Tajima dies, but so does Tobirama. Tobi goes to the other world, but instead of resting in peace he spends a his time looking over his family and kingdom. With years passing, he becomes the Guardian of the Senju kingdom, and he looks over it and all the people living in until the end of times.

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21. What aspect of your writing are you most proud of?

Um... I guess that I make kinda very dramatic content, and a lot of people actually like drama but usually are ashamed (for whatever reason) to say about it so there are not much actual dramatic fanfics.

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Hope you had good time reading my 3 page essay answering these. I really couldn't decide on the story could I?😅

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 5 years

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um hi who’s steve moffat??

Oh my goodness. Okay, my sweet summer child, buckle up. I’ll try and keep this short. I assume you’re asking this since I just reblogged that post about Moffat creating the new Dracula show for BBC, so I’ll explain the particulars of why that’s upsetting as well.

So, Steven Moffat is a British television show writer and creator. He created the very popular (and well-done) comedic show Coupling, which was a take on the modern-day dating world and apparently inspired by how Moffat met his wife. He was also a writer on Doctor Who, the long-running British science fiction series, and this is where the fun (note the sarcasm) begins.

See, Moffat wrote some very very very good episodes on Doctor Who. In fact he wrote two of my favorites: the two-parter “The Empty Child”/“The Doctor Dances” (which includes my all-time favorite television moment, “Everybody lives, Rose! Just this once–everybody lives!!!”) and “Blink.” “Blink” is considered one of the best, if not the best, DW episode as it works so damn well and is so well written and ALSO functions very well as a standalone episode. Someone who has never seen a single DW episode could watch “Blink” and enjoy it.

Given Moffat’s good writing chops, everyone was super excited when he became the showrunner for Doctor Who after Russell T. Davies, the original showrunner, left, and when Moffat also announced he was creating Sherlock, a modern-day adaptation of the beloved Sherlock Holmes character.

I will direct you to this highly entertaining video that explains why Moffat’s show running skills and BBC’s Sherlock are, well, garbage.

Please do watch that video when you have the time since it’s fucking hilarious but here’s the gist of it: Moffat relies on building cliffhanger after cliffhanger and never actually delivering any climax, catharsis, or answers to the questions he gives. He makes his shows about one “super special genius” male character whose only function is to be “super special genius” and never actually has any character development and really actually is an asshole to everyone around him. And he writes female characters horribly, Irene Adler just to start. He crams in LGBT+ characters and other such “minority” characters in order to get “woke” and “diversity” points but he doesn’t actually give them any legitimate layers or nuance. The genius straight white male always saves the day and he does it while being a dick to everyone.

Yay.

Moffat’s constant reliance on twist after twist after twist without any character development, conclusion, explanation, or even logic, means that eventually his shows spiral into the absolutely absurd, as happened with season four of Sherlock. I would argue the show went off the rails in season three but that was before I saw it completely jump the shark in season four. Holy shit.

Which brings us to Dracula.

Look, vampires are sexy, I will be the first to admit that. But Dracula himself is not a vampire you want to swoon over. In the original book he is a sexual predator (the passages where he feeds on Mina are particularly disturbing and evocative of rape) who brutally and mercilessly murders people by twisting their spines and bashing their heads in until their brains burst out, sending wolves to tear them to pieces, and ripping their throats out. He literally throws a toddler to three vampires who do something so horrendous to it that Jonathan Harker blocks it from his memory.

Dracula is also, to add to all of this, a metaphor for two things a) the powerful and charismatic but “forbidden” gay relationship/love (and the shame that comes with that because this was the 1800s) and b) the racist/xenophobic fear of the “pure Aryan race” being “corrupted” by the “impure” eastern/non-Aryan bloodline.

Yeah, you heard me. The second one is pretty damn obvious and it’s a real sign of continued xenophobia and racism if you ask me that no adaptation (save for the silent black and white film Dracula: Pages from a Virgin’s Diary) has addressed this issue. Dracula literally says that he will destroy the Western race of heroes “through your women, and through them your children! I shall have them and through them I shall have you!” and basically says yeah I’m gonna rape your wives and they’ll have my children and your pure bloodline will be corrupted. This is far from an uncommon fear. It’s a repeated threat from the non-white villain in racist texts and it’s a common rhetorical trick. You even hear it in historical films when the heroic leader stands up and is like “would you have them kill us and rape our wives?” The fear isn’t just death, it’s that the “oh so pure bloodline” will be corrupted by the “unclean” race mating with the “clean” one.

AND THAT’S IGNORING THE BLATANTLY RACIST STEREOTYPE OF THE ROMANI PEOPLE AS EVIL STOOGES OF DRACULA LIKE WTF STOKER I’M GONNA RAISE YOU FROM THE DEAD JUST SO I CAN KICK YOUR GODDAMN ASS–

*ahem* Anyway.

The first one is also pretty obvious given that the entire first third of the book is Dracula flirting with Jonathan up to and including making innuendos about Jonathan teaching him English by “showing him how to use his tongue” (NO I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP). Most people believe that Dracula was based on Vlad Tepes aka Vlad the Impaler but actually, while Stoker did research on good ol’ Vlad, Dracula was based on a popular actor and close friend of Stoker’s, Henry Irving. Dracula was originally supposed to be a play, written for Irving, with Irving in the title role. When Irving refused, Stoker changed it to a book.

In fact when people who knew the two read the book they all went, “holy shit Dracula is totally Irving and Stoker is totally Jonathan.” Contemporaries noted that the relationship between Irving and Stoker was toxic, with Irving being manipulative and narcissistic, taking advantage of Stoker, while Stoker was too damn in love with Irving to stand up for himself even as he knew that Irving was being an asshole.

SO THAT MEANS WE HAVE: queer subtext, racist subtext, and vampirism as a metaphor for sexual assault.

None of which Moffat has a history of handling well.

It’s a sad tradition in Hollywood to change Dracula into a sexy anti-hero, and to claim that Mina Harker, the heroine of the book who saves everyone’s goddamn bacon, was actually attracted to Dracula and wanted to be with him. Y’know, the man who in the book makes her drink his blood in a way that is explicitly worded to make it sound like she’s forced to give him a blowjob (no seriously reading those passages is genuinely disturbing). Seeing how Moffat treated Sherlock and The Doctor on their respective shows, he’ll probably turn Dracula from a monster that is legitimately scary (because y’know he rapes people) into yet another pale white super special genius Mary goddamn Sue.

Seriously, the next time someone asks me what a Mary Sue is I’m just directing them straight to the Moffat-run seasons of Doctor Who and BBC’s Sherlock.

And given how Moffat handled the character of Irene Adler by turning her from a woman who received the world’s first unsolicited dick pic and was forced to use it to protect herself from persecution by royalty in order to quietly marry the love of her life into a dominatrix whose bisexuality was used as a one-off line to show how “irresistible and sexy” Sherlock is and is beaten by Sherlock, is a villain, not just a villain but the lackey of another villain, and has to be rescued by Sherlock twice instead of being the clever quick-thinking woman who gets one over on him and teaches him not to underestimate women and that he’s not always right…

Yeah. I don’t have high hopes for how Moffat will treat Mina Harker, the meticulous wannabe journalist who loves her friends to death and has a fucking backbone of steel and memorizes train schedules in her spare time like the utter dork she is.

And even if you set all those things aside! Even if you hope that Moffat will do justice to the women in the series, that he’ll properly address the sexual, gay, and racist subtext in Dracula, even if you hope that he won’t make Dracula another annoying can’t-ever-do-anything-wrong-jackass that treats the people around him like shit but we’re supposed to think he’s cool for it and people still somehow inexplicably stick around him and forgive him for it…

EVEN IF YOU HOPE FOR ALL OF THAT

…there is still Moffat’s major storytelling issue which is that he never tells a complete story. He never delivers on any of the promises he makes to the audience. He dangles cliffhangers that promise some big revelation is upcoming, but he never actually makes good on that–he just gives another twist instead, so that you never conclude any story arcs. It’s like listening to a song but having no resolution in the music so it’s just hurting your ears. Moffat is all about sound and fury, about making things look and sound cool, but without giving them any actual substance.

Moffat has done some great writing work, but it was always when someone else was in charge reining him in and forcing him to tell a complete story. He was given carte blanche with Sherlock and look how well that turned out. Season four was so bad people actually wondered if it was a joke. Yeah. Seriously.

So, people are understandably frustrated about this upcoming Dracula adaptation and have zero hope that it will handle any of the characters or the complex issues with any kind of nuance or substance. My personal bet? The women will be treated as props who fawn over Dracula, Dracula himself will be an asshole that we’re supposed to somehow like, his bisexuality will be a throwaway thing and the men who fall for him will behave in stereotypically gay ways and God forbid he actually get a long-lasting substantial relationship with any of them, Van Helsing is gonna be a woman and be either his bitter ex or eventually fall for him, and oh yes the racism/xenophobia in the original text will never be addressed ever.

That, my dear, is Steven Moffat, and that’s why people hate him and aren’t happy about him creating a Dracula television series, bisexual vampires or no.

#mads answers things #dracula #dracula bbc #moffat #steven moffat #I'm paraphrasing the Dracula quotes because I've read that damn book ten times by now #and I'm too lazy to go find my copy to get the exact quote right #I hope this explains everything satisfactorily my dear!#apologies that it's such a long answer lol #I tried to be succinct #nalgenewhore

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southwindscoffee · 3 years

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Um so I had an amazing year

You cannot get poor enough to help poor people thrive or sick enough to help sick people get well. You only ever uplift from your position of strength and clarity and alignment. – Abraham/Esther Hicks

So.

I had an amazing year.

And I’m embarrassed to say it because I’m not dumb. (At least I hope I’m not.) I look around and can see suffering. Upheaval. Sickness. Poverty. I’m not denying those things exist or minimizing anyone else’s experience.

But I wanted to share why I had an amazing year with the intent of uplifting someone else.

Maybe you.

I’m ending the year feeling happier, healthier, richer, more creatively fulfilled, and closer to my family than I have in a very, very long time. I credit this to a few small but key things—and overall, to one book.

Last year about this time I listened to Atomic Habits by James Clear. I’ve lost track of how many copies I’ve bought of this book. Maybe four? At least two hardback copies, because I gave one away. Simply stated, the audio changed my life.

Just—if you’re sick of listening to yourself complain about your bank account or weight or whatever, and you’re serious about changing things, go read/listen to this book.

AND THEN ACTUALLY DO WHAT HE SAYS. The little, dumb, tiny changes. Because they add up.

Last year I got sick of complaining about the same things year after year. And since I mostly complain in my journal or in my own head, it was a very boring place to be. I got sick of wondering why the balance in my bank account didn’t change, why I wasn’t losing weight, and why I wanted to write so much and wasn’t getting anywhere, even though I tried.

But these things (richer, slimmer, more creative) were also what I really desired, deep down inside. I wanted to feel more financially stable, healthier (defined by weight loss), and to write more. (Well, I already wrote plenty. I wanted to write stuff and put it in public where people could actually read it.) These dreams felt very special and secret, but I think they’re somewhat universal—at least for authors.

(Please note: I know that mental health can get in the way of taking any action at all. I’ve written about my depression and anxiety before. If this blog entry makes you feel overwhelmed, please know I’ve been where you are. Focus on taking care of yourself in whatever way you can and don’t worry about all this aspirational ambitious stuff I’m writing. Because the aspirational and ambitious can simply be getting out of bed and taking a shower. I’m proud of you for hanging in there.)

After listening to Atomic Habits, I decided to do the following macro habits all throughout 2020—and I checked these off on a little grid in the James Clear journal:

1. Take my vitamins.

2. Save $5 every day.

3. Write 10,000 words per week.

4. Post a blog entry every Wednesday and Saturday.

5. Go to the gym 3-5 times a week.

I thought that these were things that could get me to my goals—richer, slimmer, more creatively fulfilled. And overall—happy.

I also had some habits I already did. These were:

1. Meditate for 10 minutes every day. (I usually use a guided YouTube video).

2. Write three pages longhand as Morning Pages (per Julia Cameron). (Incidentally, I’ve done this for decades and credit it to the reason I don’t get writer’s block.)

3. Take a Swedish lesson on Duolingo.

I just wanted to keep these up.

I have lots more habits … like brushing my teeth or whatever (and I actually floss because I bought the stuff and leave it out where I can see it), but the ones above are my more unusual habits.

Well, what happened?

1. I took my vitamins. Boring, but I’m also quite healthy, so maybe it helps my overall wellbeing. I haven’t been sick all year. I keep them by my bed where I see them and remember to take them.

(Yes, I wash my hands all the time and don’t touch my face. And yes, I stayed home in quarantine. Yes, I wore a mask when I went out. But I think taking vitamins helped.)

2. I ended up saving $5 every workday not every day. I either transferred the money to a Capital 360 account because it’s hard to transfer it back or put $5 into a Stash account. I sometimes would skip Starbucks or something similar and feel virtuous about transferring the $5. Other times I just transferred it.

At the beginning of the year, the Capital 360 account had $5. It now has $806.

At the beginning of the year the Stash account had $50. It now has almost $2500. (Buying $5 here and there in March when the stock market was down ended up making about $500 over the year, a 23% increase.)

Um, so that’s like $3200 I just kinda now have. Incidentally, $5 per day is $1825 over the course of the year, and I’ve almost doubled that because I invested it, not just saved it—and also sometimes I’d transfer like $10 or $25 if I was feeling wild. Over the months, I saw how the account balance would get close to an even number (like $500), so I’d transfer enough to make it that amount. And it just kept going.

(Also, I’m not intending on this to be money advice. Go talk to someone who actually knows. My thought process was to hedge my bets with doing both safe and speculative—a savings account that earned interest and then various stocks. I also wasn’t spending money I needed for food, shelter, etc. I barely felt the expense, but I very much feel the accumulation of savings.)

There really is magic in just starting to do something small, because it really does compound and snowball into good things.

Maybe in the grand scheme of things $3200 isn’t that much. To me it feels like I have this cute little cushion I literally created out of loose change in a year.

Honestly, it feels like a lot, not “cute” or “little.” If I don’t compare myself to millionaires, it’s kind of amazing.

What would happen if you transferred $1 or $2 a day? By the end of 2021, see how much you have…

Another money habit: I wanted to stop buying so much online and one-clicking so many ebooks—even free ones—because it was just too much. I had like 800 unread books. So I kept track of the days I didn’t buy anything or download any books. My ecommerce moratorium ended up being streaks of time I didn’t buy anything and then a day where I would buy everything off of Amazon or whatever all at once. Not sure it did much except make me feel marginally better. With ebooks, while my TBR count is less than what it was at the beginning of the year, it isn’t the zero I’d hoped it to be. But I seriously read about 300-400 books—about 1-2 a day. (I read fast and don’t sleep.) My “read” pile jumped from 800 to 1100. Not sure what to make of it except I read so much and it was really fun. So, I still have about 680 books on my TBR pile for next year. That can be another habit to work on.

3. I’ve written more than 530,000 words this year. The habit I tied it to incidentally, was opening my laptop. If I open my laptop—and that’s a habit I record with a tick mark on a grid—it’s a lot easier to get into the document and start writing. So the way I trick myself to write is I tell myself all I have to do is open my laptop. Simple. I check off the box that I did it and I feel virtuous. To reward myself for actually getting the word count, I have a little jar with binder clips in it and every 1,000 words I put a binder clip in a small old milk bottle. Then I can see the words add up.

I also did a spreadsheet to know what I’ve written this year. I’ve never done one before because it felt too quantitative rather than qualitative. Writing is supposed to be this outlet for me, not something to beat to death with statistics. But I’m glad I did it because writing can be so amorphous. Putting parameters on it made it feel real.

Oh, and I’ve finished one book, set to be published in February. I have a contract for another, and it’s (today) at 77,000 words. Three more books are 50% or more done. And I did NaNoWriMo. So, yeah. It was a productive year.

I also learned that I like juggling projects. Focusing on one can make me stagnant. If I get stuck on one, moving to another really seemed to keep my momentum going.

But I’m now focusing on getting them done and shipped. One at a time. Because they’re all just so close I can feel it.

4. Before this year, I’d published eleven blog entries from 2017 to 2019. This year, I’ve posted 97, not counting this one. I missed a time or two at the beginning, but um, yeah… That’s a big difference.

The reasons I wanted to focus on posting blog entries were multifold. I’d felt “out of it” as far as publishing, having worked on one book for so long that wasn’t gelling. I’d felt frustrated and jealous of those who got their work done. I needed the instant gratification—so to speak—of putting something out there while I worked on projects that took longer. I also wanted to inure myself to the fear of putting myself out there. With each entry—still—I feel fear, but I wanted to do it anyway. So that when the time comes to publish more fiction, I can go, “yeah, I’ve hit publish (literally) 100 times, what’s the big deal?”

My guiding point for writing a blog post has been my gut feeling—tempered by wanting to reach out and help someone else. But to keep up a streak, there is a document on my computer called “Default blog post.” This is what it says in its entirety:

Default blog post

I told myself I just needed to post a blog every Wednesday and Saturday.

Here is me keeping that promise.

If you see that, well, you’ll know how the week is going.

Is there an endgame here? What am I going to do with these blog posts? I can see me taking some ideas and expanding on them and creating some sort of nonfiction/self-help kind of book. I’ve always wanted to do that. I do see them as steppingstones to something bigger.

It also lets me be okay with imperfection. Typos. “Think-Os.” Whatever. This is me with no editor.

5. So, the gym. Well, until it closed, I was going. My trigger was that I just had to check in. That was how I checked the box. Like opening the laptop, actually getting to the gym is the hard part. Once I was there, it was easy.

But the gym closed and is still closed. Like all of us, I needed a Plan B. (C? D?)

I’ve done short walks and long. Currently, I’m just working on doing pushups. I can do a lot of pushups with my knees on the ground. But I can only do a few “real” ones, so that’s what I’m keeping track of. I’m focusing on doing them slowly and properly, not faking my way through them. Faking them is easy, but I’d rather be able to do them right and have the actual arm strength. My trigger for when I do them is when I close my journal, I have to get down and do pushups. (Currently it’s seven.) To someone else that goal might be ridiculously easy. To me, it’s rather difficult and a little embarrassing to post, but whatever. I’m being honest.

I’m ending the year a few pounds lighter than last year—and lighter than I’ve been in years—so I’m calling it a win.

With the other habits, meditating keeps me happy as does dumping my brain in the morning pages. Oh, and I’m on day 622 in a row of Swedish on Duolingo. It feels like I’ve taken about a semester of college Swedish. Not enough to actually converse with someone but getting the hang of it. I’m motivated by a desire to go to Sweden and see some ancestral places—and actually understand some of the language, even though I know most Swedes speak better English than me.

With COVID-19, like most of us, I’ve spent more time at home, but I’m temperamentally suited to that. I know it’s hurt extroverts hard, but as far as I’m concerned, I got to see my family more—even when I went to the office for work.

What am I looking forward to next year? I like the habits I started for 2020. I just want to keep these systems up, because they seem to be working for me. I hope that by using these systems I end up with four to five books happily published in 2021 and I look forward to seeing how the exercise and money habits work out as well.

This entry is about two or three times my usual blog entry, so if you made it this far, thank you. I hope it inspires you to take a small action and then keep taking that small action over and over again. They really do add up.

I wish you the most amazing year ever in 2021. Know that it’s possible.

#mental health #encouragement #2020

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jemariel · 5 years

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Lazarus Writing (on Ao3)

Destiel * 40k * Rated E

After months of writer's block, Castiel's publisher sends him a mysterious gift. It's just a journal, though. Right?

But when he starts writing in it, strange things start to happen. Things like his groceries showing up in his kitchen before he's gone to the store. And he's heard of characters taking on a life of their own, but surely that was never supposed to be this literal. What's he supposed to do when the brothers he created start to walk and talk and breathe? What's he supposed to do when Dean, the man he created out of bits and pieces of his own fantasies, starts to show interest?

That's not what really scares him, though. What scares him is what else he might have brought to life. After all, the Winchester brothers fight monsters for a living...

Tags: Writer!Cas, canonverse Sam and Dean. Pining, miscommunications, zombies, amorphous fear monsters, casefic (kind of). Magical Realism. Trippy meta nonsense. Oh, and some smut.

Note: This is not a new story. I wrote this story almost two years ago. But with how fucking meta canon is about to get, I feel like this might resonate. Besides, I made a pretty new banner.

Here, have an excerpt.

God. Even under less-than-ideal circumstances, this man was even prettier than Castiel had pictured. His face was lit with the blue-white glow from the church, catching his eyes and glinting off the necklace he always wore -- that stupid fucking necklace Castiel had seen for a dime a dozen at a convenience store a few days ago and written onto Dean on a whim. He let himself be momentarily entranced by the warmth of his hand and the curve of his bee-sting lips before he shook his head and got himself together. “Uh. Yes. I’m fine,” he said, then backtracked. “No, actually, I am very much not fine.” His knees and hands were shaking -- he might have been bleeding under his trousers where he’d hit the concrete church steps -- and his stomach rolled dangerously as soon as he was upright. He lurched -- and was again steadied by strong hands on his arm and shoulder.

“Woah woah, easy, easy. Hey -- let me take you home, alright?” Dean murmured low and easy next to him. “Sam?”

“On it.” With that the other brother was off, pounding down the street.

Castiel fought to control the queasiness in his stomach, hands on his knees and eyes tight shut. A gentle shake from the hand on his shoulder brought him back. “Hey,” came Dean’s low voice. Castiel raised his eyes to see Dean crouched in front of him, all kind-faced and open-eyed. “What’s your name?”

“Castiel,” he said. Dean smiled and held out a hand, this time to shake. Castiel debated his balance for a moment, then decided it was worth the risk. Dean shook his hand and didn’t let go.

“I’m Dean,” he said. “Can you walk?”

Castiel took a moment to take stock of his body’s responses, then pushed off his knee with a steadying grip on Dean’s hand. The wobble of adrenaline was still definitely present, but -- “I think so,” he said.

“Great,” Dean grinned, and kept a hand on Castiel’s shoulder anyway. If he hadn’t felt as shaken as he obviously looked, Castiel might have felt patronized; as it was he was grateful for Dean’s calm presence at his side. “Where can I take you?” he asked.

“M-My apartment’s not far,” Castiel said, trying not to get any ideas. Dean walked him slowly to where the Impala was parked half in-half out of somebody’s driveway, tail halfway into the street. Before he knew it, he had pulled the door open and Castiel was being lowered into the passenger seat.

“If you need to hurl, just do it out the window,” Dean said, pointedly rolling it down. Castiel couldn’t help a chuckle at that, even if it was a weak one. He must have still looked awful. But the way Dean grinned at him as he closed the car door suggested that that -- making Castiel smile -- might have been part of his intent.

For the few seconds it took Dean to walk around to the driver’s side, Castiel let himself sink into the cozy depths of the Impala’s front seat. He was starting to adapt to this hugely bizarre idea that the things he’d written about were manifesting in flesh and blood, leather and steel. He ran his fingers over a seam in the upholstery. He knew this car -- knew what it was to the boys. Knew about the army man in the ash tray and the initials under the foot well. Knew about Dean rebuilding her from scrap after their father’s death. He’d put those marks there as much as Sam and Dean had. Or more? Hoo boy. That was a philosophical quagmire that he did not have the mental energy for right now. Either way, the fact that the seat cradled him like his own bed was... inescapably comforting. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that he belonged here.

The car door creaked open and Castiel tensed up again, knocked out of his reverie by the very tangible reminder that this was weird. Dean Winchester was driving him home, and it was so horrifically narcissistic to develop a crush on one of your own fictional characters, but here he fucking was, sharing the quiet intimate space of a car’s front seat with a man he had literally created as his own private wish fulfillment. Castiel took a deep breath and tried to focus on something else, but Dean’s presence was inescapable. From his low voice humming along to the quiet strains of When the Levee Breaks to the glimpses of his profile Castiel kept catching out of the corner of his eye.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing. The Impala smelled like old exhaust fumes, various oils, corn nuts and jerky, the unmistakable odor of two men in close quarters and semi-irregular showers. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but something about it put Castiel at ease.

“So Cas -- Can I call you Cas?”

Castiel blinked at Dean, taken aback. No one had ever called him Cas. “Uh -- Sure,” he said.

Dean was clearly aiming for nonchalant, gliding his hands easy over the Impala’s steering wheel. “Lemme ask you a question,” he said. “Have you been noticing anything strange lately? Any, I dunno, weird smells? Cold snaps? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Castiel nearly burst out laughing. Understatement of the century. “You mean besides being attacked by an ambulatory shadow?” he asked.

Dean gave a short huff that was more showing teeth than laughter, but Castiel’s heart still tripped over the dimple that creased his cheek, the moment of eye contact when he glanced his way. “Humor me,” he said.

It was right on the tip of his tongue, between his teeth -- the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. But he stopped. Dean. This car. Sam. Suddenly it was all too real. It was one thing to say it to his half-mad-himself brother or in the privacy of his own mind; it was entirely another to suddenly declare himself the creator of a man he had just met. This had to be a coincidence, or a psychotic breakdown, or something but surely it was not his fictional characters coming to life. And even if it were -- how do you find the words for something like that? Even more pathetic, he found himself wanting to impress Dean, and this was definitely not the way to do it.

“No,” he said quietly. “There’s nothing.”

Dean glanced over at him and back to the road a few times. Out of the corner of his eye Castiel watched the shrewd expression of Dean’s mind at work, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or hedging. Castiel closed his eyes and let himself sink deeper into his exhaustion, hoping that it would deter Dean’s natural inquisitiveness.

It must have worked, because the next words out of Dean’s mouth were: “You were at the Roadhouse weren’t you?”

Castiel’s eyes popped open. “Uh. Yes.”

Dean was smiling again, just a little quirk at the corner of his lips. “I thought so. I saw you there.” Dean swallowed, a shy little hesitation, then said, “What’s a nice-looking guy like you doing in a dive like that, hm?”

Nice-looking?? Castiel felt his mouth drop open. “I -- Uh. Just. Um.” Even if he had been in the Roadhouse for totally innocuous purposes, hearing something so much like a pick-up line from one of the most gorgeous men Castiel had ever met would have had him flummoxed.

Dean rescued him from his fish-mouthing with a more genuine laugh and a friendly pat to his shoulder. “Relax,” he said, “I’m just teasing you.” He turned a more serious eye on him then. “You just don’t seem the type for the Roadhouse, you know?”

Castiel blinked again, still not sure what to make of that. “And exactly what sort of type do you think I am?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Dean grinned. “More like.... wine hour at the library, I guess.”

And if that didn’t make Castiel want to melt through the seat. Library. Great. Just what every guy wanted to hear.

“Hey, I didn’t mean that as a bad thing,” Dean was quick to reassure him, his hand lingering now on Castiel’s shoulder. He allowed himself exactly 30 seconds of being captivated by the sweetness of his grin and the warmth of his hand before forcing himself to get a fucking grip already.

“Do you, uh -- Do you come to the Roadhouse often?” Shit. Now who was the one with the pick-up lines?

Dean was still grinning through when he said “Whenever we’re in the area. Ellen’s an old friend.”

Castiel nodded. “She said as much.”

“Really? You were talking about me?”

Castiel shrugged, non-committal. “I, uh. Might have asked about you.” Dangerous territory, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Oh did you now?” And fuck if that voice hadn’t just dropped an octave into a definite, unmistakable Sex Register. Castiel felt his stomach flip over, hot. “Did she threaten you with the shotgun?”

“... It might have come up,” Castiel said with a smirk.

Dean had turned all the way toward him, one hand along the back of the Impala’s bench seat, fingers sliding suggestively along the leather upholstery. “Well don’t worry. Ellen may have a shotgun, but I’ve got a rifle. Several, actually.”

“Is that supposed to turn me on?”

FUCK. The words had dropped out before he could stop them. Red alert, red alert, where the FUCK did that come from Novak. Back off. This situation is complicated enough as it is. Back. The. Fuck. Off.

But Dean was just grinning at him more wolfishly than ever. “Depends. Is it working?”

Far better than it had any right to, if Castiel was being honest, but he was not about to say that. He blinked the stardust from his eyes, bit his lip -- and only then realized that they were no longer moving. That they had been stationary for some time, in fact. The song had moved on to Kashmir and there was a gentle hiss of rain on the roof that had not been present when he got in the car. He looked out the window on his side and finally recognized the front steps of his own apartment building.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I wondered when you were gonna catch on,” Dean teased, but warmly. Castiel turned back to take one last look at his small, slightly smug smirk. At the gleam of his eyes. The smattering of his freckles. The breadth of his chest and shoulders filling out his father’s leather jacket. The way his torn jeans pulled tight around his hips. The relaxed curl of his hands, square and work-rough.

What the fuck, Novak, stop staring and just get out of the damn car already.

“Well, then. I, uh. Guess I’d better --” he fumbled with the door handle.

“Hey, listen, uh --” Dean stopped him before he could get the door open. He was scribbling something on the back of a hastily-grabbed piece of paper. “If you, uh, think of anything, y’know. Or if anything else happens. Give me a call, okay?”

Castiel took the paper, the tips of two of his fingers just barely brushing the tips of Dean’s. He felt that touch linger, tingling on his skin. He slipped the paper into his pocket and nodded. “I will,” he said. “Thank you, Dean. For the ride, and for -- you know. Saving my life.”

Dean tossed him a grin, a thousand megawatt jolt straight to Castiel’s heart. “All in a day’s work,” he said as he shifted the car into gear. “See you around Cas.”

And that was Castiel’s cue. He pushed the door open and stepped out. “Goodbye Dean.”

Dean lifted a hand to him before checking his lane and pulling off the curb. Castiel forced himself to turn and go up the steps and not stand there in the fucking rain to watch Dean’s taillights disappear around the corner. He did, however, grip tightly to the little slip of paper in his pocket that held Dean Winchester’s impossible phone number.

Start from the beginning 1 on Ao3

@reallyelegantsharkfish @cryptomoon @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow @weathergirl83 @nickelkeep @hartlessfiction @leafzelindor @ltleflrt @tobythewise @navajolovesdestiel @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @migglangelus @beefcakemish @rosemoonweaver

#destiel #destiel fanfic #spn s15 #writer!Cas

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pennylanefics · 5 years

Text

My Two Girls - pt. 2

a/n: one more part :) hope you like this!! like the past couple of fics, i wrote this while i was kind of having writer’s block, so some of it may not be good

•••

Six months later, a year into your relationship with Taron, you two are still going strong and Charlotte has fallen in love with him even more, as have you. After they first met, Taron tried to visit as much as he could between filming for Robin Hood, his newest role, and Charlotte made sure to make the most of every visit.

You three would either have a lazy day at home, go out to a restaurant, go get ice cream, or got to a park. Charlotte was attached to Taron every second of their time spent together, but it didn’t bother you; you were more than happy that she liked him, because you were starting to believe Taron is the one. Little did you know, he felt the same, although he didn’t want to rush into things.

Upon this realization, you and Charlotte moved in with Taron to his apartment, which wasn’t too far away from where you used to live, so Charlotte would still go to the same school and wouldn’t be too far from her friends.

She was very excited to hear the news that you’d be moving in with him. She mentioned how happy she is that she will fall asleep knowing he’d be there in the morning. Her reasoning made both of you laugh, and made Taron cry.

Taron had invited you and Charlotte over to his apartment for dinner, which he ordered pizza for. He also had a stack of movies, consisting of Disney and Pixar, for you three to watch after dinner.

“Charlotte, why don’t you look through movies and wait on the couch while I talk to your mummy for a second, yeah?” Taron suggests to your daughter after you finish dinner. You glance at him worriedly, wondering what he needed to talk about.

“What is it, Taron?” You ask. He steps closer to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and holding you close to him.

“Um, I just wanted to ask you something, and feel free to decline or whatever if you don’t feel comfortable,” he pauses as you stay silent and wait,” would you and Charlotte want to move in with me? Here?” His eyes held a sense of hope and warmth. You were speechless, you never thought that this would happen, that you would finally be settling down with a man who cares for you and your daughter, especially. With your thoughts swirling around in your brain, tears prickle in your eyes, and a single tear falls down your cheek.

“No, no, no, darling. I didn’t want to make you cry. Please don’t cry!” Taron’s hands take a hold of your face, thumbs wiping away the single tear.

“I’d love to, Taron. And I’m sure Char is going to be happy. Every time she would wake up and you were gone, she’d get so sad and ask me to call you over for breakfast. I doubt she would oppose it.” A huge smile takes over his features as he presses his lips to yours firmly.

“I love you so much, (Y/N). And I don’t know what I did to deserve such an amazing girlfriend with an equally amazing daughter, but I will forever be grateful.” You kiss him once more before heading into the living room with him. Charlotte was sitting patiently on the couch, staring at the DVD box of Toy Story when she noticed you two.

“Mummy, can we watch Toy Story?” She is up within a second and right in front of you, waving the box around.

“Of course, darling. But, Taron wants to ask you something really quick, is that okay?” She nods and Taron sits on the couch, sitting Charlotte right next to him.

“How would it sound if you and your mummy came to live with me?” He raises his eyebrows at her, a cheeky smile on his lips. Charlotte’s eyes become big and she immediately jumps into Taron’s lap.

“Yeah, I want to do that!” She yells out, wrapping her tiny arms around Taron’s neck, cuddling into him.

“Does this mean you’ll be here every morning when I wake up?” She pulls back to look at him. Taron nods and his smile widens even more, you think his cheeks are going to explode.

“I will, my darling. I make amazing pancakes, just ask your mum.” Your daughter turns to see if Taron is telling the truth, and when your head moves up and down in an affirmative motion, Charlotte screams out in happiness.

“I can’t wait! I can’t wait!” She celebrates.

Today, Charlotte really wanted to go to the zoo, and luckily Taron had a couple days off from filming. So, that’s where you found yourself, with the now six-year-old leading you both around to wherever she wanted to go.

“So, how is the movie coming along?” You ask Taron as Charlotte walks slightly ahead of you two in the direction of the penguin exhibit. He glances down at you with a smile and starts to swing your hands back and forth like a little kid.

“Great, actually. Otto says the action shots are looking good, it’s going really well.”

“And the archery training?” You continue. He sighs and shakes his head.

“It’s not easy. But Lars says I catch on quick and what I’m doing is great, just doesn’t feel like I’m doing good enough,” he says a little bit sadly.

“I’m sure you’re doing fine, babe. Don’t doubt yourself. From what I saw when I visited you during training one day, the movie is going to look amazing.” His grin widens and he leans down for a quick kiss.

“Mummy! Look!” Charlotte turns around to face you, pointing at the entrance to the penguin exhibit. You gasp and put one hand over your mouth.

“Oh my gosh! It’s the penguins! Let’s go inside and see them!” She jumps up and down and grabs Taron’s hand, pulling him along with her. You let go of his hand so he could run off with her, watching as he turns around to send you a smile.

This is how most of the day goes. Charlotte drags you and Taron to whatever exhibits she wanted to see, and would hold onto Taron’s hand as they walked through and looked around.

After you three take a break to have some lunch, Charlotte is once again guiding you to another area. The gorillas come into view quickly and you knew she was going to go crazy; she loves gorillas, mainly because she loves Johnny. And you didn’t expect any less of the words that slip from her mouth, except one little thing about them.

“Look! It’s you daddy!” She yells, pointing to the gorilla closest to the glass enclosure. Your eyes quickly dart to Taron and your heart bursts with so much love. The man has tears pooling in his eyes, ready to spill over any second like a dam waiting to burst. This is the first time that she’s addressed him as that.

His hand flies up to his mouth as he tries to contain a sob, which causes you to laugh lightly out of happiness.

“You alright?” Your voice is quiet as to not catch Charlotte’s attention, your hands holding onto Taron’s arm to try and comfort him.

“Y-yeah, just caught me off-guard, s’all,” he mumbled, still trying to contain tears and sobs

“I can tell her not to call you-”

“No, please don’t. I don’t mind it, as long as you don’t.” The corners of your lips raise into a smile and you lean up to kiss his pink lips.

“I think it suits you well.”

The last animal you had to see were the giraffes, which are Charlotte’s favorite animal. And once again, she called Taron by his newest title, the same as she did earlier.

“Daddy! Can you lift me onto your shoulders so I can see?” She asks, turning towards your boyfriend and looking up at him with a pleading look. You can tell he is once again taken back by the name, but this time he accepts it and lets it pass by with no thought; he acted as if he’s been called that for years.

“Of course, my darling!” He says to her as he grabs her and lifts her body onto his shoulders. Her happy and excited squeals filled the air as Taron moves to a less crowded area in front of the animal, so she can get a really good view, even though she can practically see the entire exhibit with being on Taron’s shoulders.

“Come on, love,” Taron calls for you to join them. You hadn’t noticed, but you were standing a bit farther away from them, admiring them and letting them have some time together.

“Why are you standing so far away, huh?” He questions when you arrive at his side, one arm wrapping around your shoulder, while the other kept a hold of Charlotte’s leg.

“Just admiring,” you say dreamily, gazing up into his green eyes that are shielded by the orange sunglasses he loves so much. A small smile appears on his face as he holds you close to him, waiting for Charlotte to finish staring at the animals.

“Alright Char. You ready to head home?” You look up to her, grabbing her legs and shaking them a little, making her giggle and nod her head. Taron reaches up and grabs her body, easily setting her back on the ground and taking a hold of her hand, you grabbing his other free one.

The walk to Taron’s car was silent, you three enjoying the nice weather and just being with each other. Your mind was still hung up on the fact that Charlotte had called Taron her dad, and as much as you loved it, it scared you, it makes you wonder what would happen if you and Taron break up before he decides to propose, if he even wants to.

The car ride was no different than the walk. Charlotte had fallen asleep as soon as you buckled her in her car seat, which you were thankful for. You and Taron quietly conversed the whole ride back, talking over Elton John music that he put on, to try and prep for his new and upcoming roll.

Halfway through the ride, Taron’s hand fell onto your thigh, gripping it gently, gaining your attention. Your eyes dart down at his hand, his thumb stroking against your bare skin softly, then up at him, seeing that he is still focused on driving, no expression on his face. Looking back down at your lap, you grab his hand in yours, lacing your fingers through his and resting them against your leg.

Taron suddenly removes your entangled hands from your leg and brings them up to his lips, your eyes following his actions, watching as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. A smile rises on your lips as he returns them back to your lap. As he pulls up to a stoplight, his head turns and faces you, that little soft smirk and smile mix on his face as he stares at you.

“What?” You question, reaching up to touch your cheek, “is there something on my face?” He chuckles and shakes his head, still staring intensely at you.

“Can I not just look at my beautiful girlfriend and admire her?” You immediately blush, your cheeks burning at his comment, which also makes you smile and shy away from his gaze.

Taron’s hand stays in yours the rest of the way home, occasionally raising it back up to his lips to continue to kiss it; he was being so affectionate for some reason, and although he always is in some way, this was much more...intensified.

“You go inside and rest for a little, I can grab Char,” Taron tells you after he parks in front of the apartment building.

“Are you sure?” You clarify, wanting to help him in any way possible, considering she is your daughter.

“Yeah, go ahead, love. I’ll be up seconds after you.” So, you follow his words, letting yourself into the building and making your way up to Taron’s apartment. You plop down on the couch, closing your eyes and lying against the cushions. Just as Taron promised, he quietly opened the door only seconds later, Charlotte in his arms as she lay limp against his body. You stand and let him place her down on the couch, brushing her hair out of her face and cradling her cheek.

Taron grabs your hand after making sure that she was going to stay asleep, and pulled you into the kitchen. He comes to stand in the middle of the room, hands falling to your waist and keeping you close to his body. His eyes stare down at you, roaming all over your face, flicking from your eyes to your lips occasionally.

“I love you so much. I’m so glad that you came into my life and have given me the chance to be a father figure to Charlotte. I love her just as much as I love you, you two are already my world, and I’m hoping to stay for a while,” he expresses his thoughts, one of his hands coming to rest on your cheek, rubbing your skin softly and with so much care.

“But, if you aren’t comfortable with her calling me by the name she did today,” he finds a way to not say the actual word, “then we can sit her down and explain that it’s not the right time just yet. Whatever makes you comfortable and whatever you are happy with. I don’t want to upset you in any way.” His voice was quiet yet strong as you continue to listen to his little talk, and you were so mesmerized by his eyes that you almost forgot to pay attention.

“Taron, I’m completely fine with her calling you that. If I wasn’t I would have told you. I know this must be a lot for you, to suddenly be considered a dad and be put in that position, but I wouldn’t have introduced you to Char and let you into her life if I didn’t think you would be great at it. It was just completely off guard and unexpected.” He smiles and gently presses his lips to yours in a sweet, short kiss.

“I love you too, T. And I hope you’re with us for as long as you can be, with shooting for Rocketman and all.”

“I’ll be able to FaceTime you two as much as I can. And, when we’re shooting in London, if it’s okay with you, I can bring Charlotte up sometime and show her around. Of course it’ll be kid-friendly, maybe the house set, when Jamie and I film the Your Song sequence,” he offers.

“She’d be more than happy to go with you.” Just as Taron’s hands slowly make their way down your waist to your bum, a small, quiet voice sounds from the doorway. You both pull away from each other and see Charlotte stood there, wiping her eyes from sleep and reaching out to you to pick her up.

“Hello baby. How was your nap?” You ask her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She groans and shoves her head into your shoulder, still half asleep. Taron strides over a couple feet and rubs her back softly.

“You want some dinner, darling?” He asks quietly. She nods against your shoulder, so he walks away to make her favorite, grilled cheese.

As Taron makes dinner, Charlotte sits at the kitchen table and talks with him, while drawing with crayons on a piece of paper. You take this opportunity to clean up around the apartment, putting a vast amount of Charlotte’s toys up, organizing the coffee table in the living room, and cleaning up yours and Taron’s room.

After dinner, you give Charlotte a bath while Taron takes a phone call with Dexter to talk over the new movie, but after you dry her off and get her ready for bed, Taron is the one she wants to do so.

“Honey, he’s on the phone right now. He can put you to bed tomorrow night, okay?” She shakes her head and her eyes well up with tears. You sigh out and pick her up, cradling her in your arms; you can tell she is exhausted from the day, which is why she needs to go to sleep right now.

“Char, we live with him, it’s not like he’s never going to be able to put you to bed, okay? He’s busy right now, but I will tell him you said goodnight.” She then begins to sob out, screaming for Taron. You groan this time, closing your eyes for a moment before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to see if he’d be free for a couple minutes. So, you make your way to your bedroom where he is sat and see that he’s not on the phone anymore.

“T, she wants you to put her in bed,” you quietly tell him, watching as he stands with a concerned look on his face, due to Charlotte’s loud cries.

“Alright, alright. You’re okay, darling. I’m here, I’ve got you,” he cooes at her quietly, taking her into his arms. She immediately calms down and cuddles into him, bidding you goodnight and nuzzling her face into Taron’s neck. You take a seat on the bed, tired and worn out, but thanks to Taron, it wasn’t as bad as the first five years alone with her.

You have now taken your spot on the bed, under the covers, ready to sleep. Taron appears in the room about five minutes later, tears in his eyes and a huge smile on his lips.

“What’s got you all giddy?” You ask, curling up to his body as he slides under the covers.

“Oh nothing. Just Charlotte being her normal, crazy self.” You brush it off, knowing that they already have little inside secrets and jokes of their own.

Taron’s POV:

“Why were you giving your mummy such a hard time, huh?” I ask Charlotte as I step into her room. She jumps down from my arms and climbs into bed, letting me tuck her in gently.

“Because I love you,” she explains, looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes.

“Do you not love mummy?” I question, half-joking, half worried that she was no longer fond of her mother, but only me.

“No, I do! But I wanted you to sing,” she giggled, reaching up to touch my face, running her fingers over my freshly-shaved chin.

“Ah, okay. How about I sing a song I’m going to be singing in my new movie?” I offer, making her nod happily; I didn’t think to tell her that this movie isn’t one she is going to be able to see. But, I brush that aside, knowing that that’s a talk for another time, and begin to sing Your Song. My hand brushes through her semi-dried hair as I continue, watching as her eyes begin to fall closed.

Once I finish, she is practically asleep, so I leaned down and kissed her forehead, like I do every night, but her hands suddenly grip my cheeks to keep me there.

“Goodnight, daddy. I love you.” My heart skips tons of beats as her soft voice fills the room, speaking the words I’ve always wanted to hear from my child, and even though she’s not mine, the name still gets to me. Tears pool in my eyes and as much as I wanted to conceal them, I couldn’t, resulting in some falling down my cheeks.

“I love you too, my darling.”

•••

taron taglist: @loveharrington @toky-9101 @buck-barn @butlegendsneverdie

permanent taglist: @stfxlou @onexlittlespark @babebenhardy @tarons-mercury @1-800-fandomsdestroyedme

#taron egerton #taron egerton imagines #taron egerton x reader #taron imagines #taron x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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thecrystalquill · 5 years

Text

Love/Hate

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: Draco and (Y/N) hate each other; it's easier for Draco to hate than to love. But when push comes to shove, a little love might be just what they need.

A/N: Hey! Finally it's Part 4! Might be a while until the next part (writer's block is catching up to me) but enjoy this one!

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

‘What's the spell for disintegrating something?' (Y/N) thought; she had been studying for the last two hours and her brain had started to become too tired to function properly. The library was quite full with other students hoping to finish their homework before the Christmas holidays or fit in some last-minute studies, and a few were being a little distracting – those few were sitting right in front of (Y/N) and happened to be her friends.

“My parents said they might get me an owl – I’d want a tawny owl but I think they’d probably get me a barn owl.”

“Wouldn’t it be great if we were allowed dogs here? I’d definitely have one.”“Not at all! You know what dogs’re like, they’d be fighting and they’d need walking and attention – which no one would have time for – and they’re so much louder than cats or owls—”

“Guys…” (Y/N) groaned tiredly, resting her head on her hand, “if you’re gonna keep talking, could you at least do it quieter?” She picked up her quill again as her friends raised their hands in surrender. “Also, what’s the spell for disintegration?”

“Deletrius – the eradication spell,” Maven answered boredly as she reopened the potions book she’d forgotten about.

Gasping, (Y/N) mentally scolded herself for forgetting as she scribbled down the spell; charms was usually one of her best subjects, but lately she’d been forgetting things that she already knew and lost focus too easily.

“You doing anything over the holidays, (Y/N)?” Penny asked, a quieter Hufflepuff that (Y/N) didn’t know so well, but treated her like her other friends just the same.

Looking up from her papers, (Y/N) stuttered for a response. “O-oh… um… n-no. no I’m not, er, doing anything. Nothing special.” She cleared her throat before folding away her papers and putting the lid on her ink. “Hey, Naida, where was that divination book you found last week?”

The red-haired girl looked her way and blew a curl out of her face, "Over there, fourth shelf." She yawned, pointing in the general direction.

Nodding, (Y/N) got up on her hunt for the textbook for yet another class she'd been struggling in.

Draco was sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, staring out of the window as they neared the station. "Mother and Father already wrote to me," he told his companions boastfully, "they said we're having a Christmas party. Mother's very excited, but I'm sure it'll be just as boring as anything. Your families have been invited, haven't they?"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded, then Blaise decided to speak up; not letting Draco dominate the conversation. "Yeah, my parents said it's gonna be fancy, have to dress up. I bet we're gonna have to… like… dance." He frowned, the others groaning in agreement; because, really, who wants to do that?

"Well then, you'll just have to avoid your parents at all costs, won't you?" Draco offered with a smirk, knowing all of their parents would be eyeing them all night.

Blaise was about to respond, when the train came to a stop, cutting him off.

The boys collected their things and exited the train, starting their search for their parents. Draco looked around for a minute, before finally making his way to his parents, who had already collected his trunk from the train.

"Draco," his Mother smiled as he appeared in her view, she gave the boy a small hug then pulled back to see his face. "How are you? Your classes are going well, I assume?"

"Yes, Mother." He nodded with a half-smile, which disappeared when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

His Father looked down on him, patting his shoulder in so-called affection. "Draco," he nodded.

Clearing his throat, the boy straightened his posture before replying. "Father," he nodded in return.

"Has everything been going well at school?"

"Yes Father," he said simply.

"Well," Narcissa began, clasping her hands together, "let's head home now, shall we? I'm sure you've had a long day, Draco."

As they were about to leave, Draco looked back, catching sight of a pretty (y/h/c) girl carrying a single case, leaving the station alone.

It was the 24th of December, just before the Malfoy Christmas eve party was due to start, and Draco was in his room fixing his bow tie and combing his hair. There was no doubt in his mind that tonight would be boring, he’d much rather spend the evening in his room, reading a book before bed. Unfortunately, he’d be drinking fancy flutes of bitter champagne and being forced into boring conversations with even more boring adults, or being made to dance with snotty pureblood girls that he probably already knew (and didn’t like at all).

"Draco, hurry up will you? Our guests will be here soon." His Mother called from downstairs.

Taking one last look in the mirror, he took a breath and made his way out. He found his parents by the door, looking elegant as always in their expensive outfits and shining jewels. They always dressed in their finest clothes for these occasions, and never wore the same things twice; this party wasn't a celebration, Draco knew, it was simply an excuse for people to present their wealth and class, and try to show how much better they were than everyone else there. So, Draco was wearing his best black dress-robes, with his expensive polished black shoes, and his new diamond cuff-links.

As the guests started to show and music had started to play, a few forced dances later Draco stood with Blaise off to the side, occasionally sipping champagne as their parents talked. "So… this is… nice--"

"It's bloody boring, Blaise, don't even try."

"Well I'm just saying, it could be worse, right?" He half-defended, setting down the flute and putting his hands in his pockets. "You know, it'd be really bad if--"

"Dracey!" A shrieking voice interrupted them, their eyes widening in horror.

"Damnit, Blaise! You summoned her!" Draco scolded as he prepared himself for his worst nightmare. Turning around, he was blinded by a sparkly hot-pink dress (and there was really nothing hot about it). "Parkinson," he greeted through clenched teeth, with a tight-lipped smile.

The girl beamed at him as she stepped closer - because personal space isn't a thing. "You look so handsome tonight, Dracey," she complemented as she put a hand on his arm.

"Thanks," he replied, subtly shrugging her arm off and sending a panicked glare to Blaise as he slowly shuffled away.

Pansy started to twirl a pink nail in her hair and gave an almost-flirty smile. "What do you think of my dress? Don't you think it looks lovely?" She asked as she grabbed the puffy, knee-length, sequin covered skirt.

"Yeah… er sorry but I have to go… look for… my… er… Mother's earrings. She lost one earlier so… I should grab her a new pair. Bye." He ran off into the crowd, putting as much distance between them as possible.

"Wait! Dracey-Poo! Come back--"

He made his way to the garden patio, reminding himself to get back at Blaise when he finds him. It was dark by now, and cold. His breath fogged in the air and snow had settled over the grass, the steps had been enchanted to keep dry and so he sat down to the side, in the shadows where (hopefully) no one would see him.

The sounds of the party could still be heard, but it was thankfully much quieter. As Draco sat there, his mind started to wander. 'How could this party possibly get any worse?' He thought, 'Maybe if (Y/L/N) came along it'd be worse? Well, probably not. She'd be far more entertaining.' He huffed at the thought; he shouldn't even think about wanting her here.Glancing through the glass doors to the party, the blond caught sight of the horrific pink dress running by. '(Y/L/N) would say something funny about that; she'd probably say she looked like a bedazzled flamingo pulled from a carnival or something.' He laughed at the thought, appreciating her sense of humour - then tried to shake off any more thoughts of her. Which wasn't working very well.

He saw a man walking passed, he was short and plump and had a ridiculous twirly moustache, in one hand was a polished cane and in the other was an almost empty glass of wine. ‘(Y/N) would say he looked like an evil Mr. Monopoly.’ He recalled her bringing the game one year and, though he made fun of it, thought it seemed like a fun way to spend free time. The more he thought of the insults that she would throw if she were here, the more ridiculous the whole even seemed to Draco. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have her there; wearing a beautiful long dress in her favourite colour, her hair pulled into a beautiful style, and smiling her beautiful smile. Again, the boy ignored his drifting mind; (Y/N) would never go to an event like this, a meaningless boring party to show off wealth and arrogance and pride. She'd much rather spend quality time with friends - as Draco would rather be doing now. He sighed at the notion; 'Besides,' he thought, 'she's probably having more fun than I am right now anyway.'

Unfortunately, though, she wasn't.

Tags:

@salmonoctopus

@kaibie

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ilovemybarricadebabies · 4 years

Text

Another Round of Fanfic Asks

Again I know that these are supposed to be asks, but I’m taking a break from editing my latest fic and this seemed fun to do. It’s these questions that I’m doing this time.

Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing: 30 Questions for Authors

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

I first started writing fanfic for the 2012 CW reboot of Beauty and the Beast for Vincent and Catherine. But these fics have since been deleted. I didn’t write fanfic again until 2015.

2. Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them?

No, I don’t. I would like to one day, but right now, I’m content just writing whatever I want to write, whenever I want to.

3. Do you write fics from start to finish, or skip around?

Start to finish. I need to go in order of events or I get all confused.

4. Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

I create some form of outline. For the most part, I don’t stray, but every once in awhile it will happen.

5. What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

I prefer to write in the comfort of my own home, but I can write from anywhere. The only thing is that if I’m writing in public, my back and the screen NEEDS to be facing a wall, so that people can’t read over my shoulder and the screen brightness is turned all the way down.

6. If you’re really concentrating, how many words can you write in a day?

I don’t have an exact number, but it’s a lot.

7. Which part of writing do you struggle with the most?

Connecting things from plot point A to plot point B, and so on. This is where writer’s block tends to come in the most.

8. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, share a song that’s been inspiring you lately.

I need background noise while I write whether that be the TV or music. I can’t have silence. But if I’m listening to music it’s either a playlist or a Taylor Swift album.

9. Do you prefer to write AU’s, canon divergence, or canon-compliant fic?

AU’s. I think I would fuck up writing anything canon, especially for Les Mis. I know for a fact that I would never get the voice/language right for writing 19th century France.

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

Plot first (I spend a lot of time thinking about it), dialogue second, and exposition third. Exposition is the hardest for me.

11. If you could only write angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your life, which would it be?

I love all three very much, but if I have to choose it would be fluff.

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet, but really want to?

A story about going away to war, with the love letters, and then the despair/grief when the person you love is MIA and waiting for them to hopefully come home.

13. Is there a trope you wouldn’t write if it was the last trope on earth?

I’m sure there are, but I can’t think of any right now.

14. If you were stuck on a desert island with only two character, which would you pick?

Enjolras and Grantaire, hands down.

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

Enemy of Love

16. What is your most underrated fic?

I personally believe it’s Forever Was In His Eyes.

17. What fic are you most proud of?

My upcoming fic, Beating of Our One Heart, because I pushed myself out of my comfort zone.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

~~~SPOILER ALERT FOR ENEMY OF LOVE! DON’T READ THIS ANSWER IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED!~~~

The scene where Thierry appears to Enjolras as a ghost.

Commentary: This was the scene that spawned the whole story. It was always going to be Thierry that forced Enjolras to admit that he has fallen in love with Grantaire. Forcing him to come to terms that Thierry wasn’t coming back. Without this scene, the story would have been incomplete. This is the scene that is probably the turning point in the story. The point in the story where Enjolras lets go of his dead lover, and sets out to earn Grantaire’s forgiveness, love, and make up for the pain he’s caused him.

19. Who is the easiest/hardest character to write about? Why?

It’s both easy and hard to write Enjolras because my version of him is me half projecting myself on him (the easiest part to write) and the other half is making sure to get his passion for his country, people, and his activism in the story (the hardest part to write).

20. This question was originally what’s your favorite minor character you’ve written, but I’m changing it to who’s your favorite original character that you’ve created?

I have three. Casey from Begin Again. Thierry from Enemy of Love. Cameron from Beating of Our One Heart who no one, but me has met yet.

21. What is the one fic that got away?

I’m not 100% sure what this question is asking, but no fic has really ever gotten away from me.

22. Have you cried while writing a fic?

YEP! I cried writing Forever Was In His Eyes, and I still cry whenever I re-read it.

23. If you had to remix one of your own fics, which would it be and how would you remix it?

Um...I’m not really sure, tbh.

For the next few questions, I’m going to do all of my fics. To avoid spoilers, I’m leaving Beating of Our One Heart off of these lists.

24. How did you come up with title for [x fic]?

Where He Went: The title came from the book, Where She Went by Gayle Foreman (which this fic is very loosly inspired by), so I just changed the pronoun, and voila, I had my title.

Forever Was In His Eyes: This title is a lyric from the song “Cry” by Mandy Moore, but the lyric is originally “forever was in your eyes”, so once again I just changed “your” to “his” and I had my title.

The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love: I just took the title of the musical, A Gentleman’s Guide to Love and Murder, and changed it fit my story.

So Let the Words Slip Out of Your Mouth: A lyric from the song, “The Words” by Christina Perri.

Right Seems Wrong, Wrong Seems Right: Taken from Marius’s line in “Red and Black”.

Somethings Are Meant to Be: E and R were pre-destined mates in this story, so they were “meant to be”.

Poison and Wine: I was listening to the song of the same name from The Civil Wars, and it just seemed perfect for this story.

Enemy of Love: The title came from a quote from episode 22 of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.

I’m Falling, but Who Will Catch Me?: I had the plot planned, so I just took the plot and turned it into a title.

Wildest Dreams: The whole plot is a dream, so...I think that’s self-explanatory.

Begin Again: E and R were being united after years apart, so they are beginning again. Very cliché, but I don’t care.

Will You Love Me Tomorrow?: It took forever to come up with a title for this story, but one day I was listening to the song of the same name by Carole King, and it just seemed right.

Never Let Me Go: Grantaire is first with Christian, and then with Enjolras. One of them is abusive; the other is not. Christian is relentless in letting Grantaire go; even though it would break his heart, Enjolras would let Grantaire go if he was asked to.

25. Which idea came to you first in [x fic]?

~~~DON’T READ THE ANSWERS TO THIS QUESTION IF YOU DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED~~~

Where He Went: the conversation on the Brooklyn Bridge, E and R were separated, and Grantaire was a musician

Forever War In His Eyes: the whole fic came at once since it’s based on A Walk to Remember.

The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love: I knew there was a wedding and a fake relationship, that was all.

So Let the Words Slip Out of Your Mouth: I knew Enjolras wasn’t able to say I love you, that was it.

Right Seems Right, Right Seems Wrong: I don’t really remember, but what I knew was that it contained a teacher-student relationship and a one night stand.

Somethings Are Meant to Be: E and R were mates and they were going to have a baby.

Poison and Wine: Enjolras wasn’t Grantaire’s soulmate, but they still found love in each other.

Enemy of Love: As mentioned above when Thierry came to Enjolras as a ghost.

I’m Falling, but Who Will Catch Me?: E and R going round and round in a dance of pining and feelings for many and many years.

Wildest Dreams: It was inspired by another fic, so I can’t take credit for the idea.

Begin Again: the moment Enjolras realized that the reason Grantaire left was because he was pregnant and the following conversation.

Will You Love Me Tomorrow?: Grantaire had amnesia and he and Enjolras were engaged to be married.

Never Let Me Go: Grantaire had an abusive boyfriend and needed to escape him

26. What part of [x fic] was the hardest to write?

Where He Went: keeping the elephant in the room as long as possible as E and R explored NYC.

Forever Was In His Eyes: This was easy for me to write

The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love: this too was easy for me to write

So Let the Words Slip Out of Your Mouth: Again easy to write.

Right Seems Wrong, Wrong Seems Right: Nothing was really hard to write, but I had to grapple with the fact that the type of relationship that is in this story was one that people, as well as myself, deem inappropriate.

Something Are Meant to Be: Not having Enjolras reveal that he loved Grantaire before he was ready.

Poison and Wine: This was pretty easy to write too

Enemy of Love: Enjolras fighting his feelings for Grantaire

I’m Falling, but Who Will Catch Me?: Making Enjolras’s reluctance to be with Grantaire because of fear, and not because he didn’t love him, believable.

Wildest Dreams: Again fairly easy

Begin Again: Again fairly easy.

Will You Love Me Tomorrow?: Keeping the dual/alternating timelines straight

Never Let Me Go: the moments when E and R tell each other of their respective abusive relationships

27. If you were ever to do a sequel to [x fic], what would happen?

*Most of these I’ve never thought about what a sequel would be, so...yeah.

Where He Went: A sequel is coming, so I can’t talk about it.

Forever Was In His Eyes: Grantaire being reunited with Enjolras in the afterlife.

The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love: E and R navigating the change in their relationship from friendship to romantic.

So Let the Words Slip Out of Your Mouth: They would still be together, but Enjolras still wouldn’t say “I love you” very often.

Right Seems Wrong, Wrong Seems Right: E and R navigating their relationship now that it’s not a secret anymore.

Something Are Meant to Be: Them raising their sons to the best of their ability.

Poison and Wine: Grantaire finally starting to believe that Enjolras loves him, even though they aren’t soulmates.

Enemy of Love: I have no idea.

I’m Falling, but Who Will Catch Me?: Again, no idea.

Wildest Dreams: Them in a relationship, working toward the life in Enjolras’s dream

Begin Again: A sequel one-shot collection is coming, so I can’t talk about it, either.

Will You Love Me Tomorrow?: No idea.

Never Let Me Go: The sequel for this would probably be what would happen if Enjolras’s abuser got out of jail early and him coming after Enjolras.

28. In [x-fic], what is a happy, post-fic headcanon you have about [pairing]?

*I’m leaving the ones that have definitive sequels coming off this list.

Forever Was In His Eyes: R and E getting to live together in the afterlife. Finishing up Enjolras’s bucket list with the things they couldn’t do before he died.

The Enjolras Guide to Weddings and Love: E and R going on their first date

So Let the Words Slip Out of Your Mouth: E and R having a lie-in the morning after Enjolras tells him he loves him.

Right Seems Wrong, Wrong Seems Right: This one is more takes place in the fic, but you don’t see it, E and R going to IKEA and picking out furniture for their apartment.

Somethings Are Meant to Be: Them introducing Jace to Sébastien (the new baby) that is mentioned in the epilogue of this story after Enjolras gives birth.

Poison and Wine: This one takes place in the fic before Enjolras comes home with it, Grantaire writing his name on every inch of Enjolras’s skin in Sharpie to make sure his name is somewhere on Enjolras

Enemy of Love: The morning after the fic ends, Grantaire spends it drawing Enjolras in the nude.

I’m Falling, but Who Will Catch Me?: The proposal where the promise ring becomes the engagement ring.

Wildest Dreams: Enjolras explaining to Grantaire what he saw in the dream

Will You Love Me Tomorrow?: Their honeymoon

Never Let Me Go: Grantaire finishes moving his stuff from his apartment to Enjolras, then them spending the night christening the apartment that is now officially theirs.

29. Send me a word. If it’s your WIPs, include the sentence and a short summary of the fic.

Since I have no word, I’m just going to choose a sentence from Beating of Our One Heart to use, but there will be NO summary.

Grantaire arrived at headquarters at 8:45 A.M. with coffee in hand, the next morning.

30. Tell us an idea for a longfic you want to write in the future.

This is a story that I already have a basic plotline for, but I want to do a Prince and the Pauper AU where Grantaire is mistaken to be a French socialite and gets swept up in the world, falling in love with Enjolras in the meantime.

#fanfic asks #personal post #ask game #long post #fic writing

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prettybratbehavior · 4 years

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Mary Sue, the legend

Fun lil thing I wrote some time ago to get out of my writer’s block. It’s amusing enough that I’d consider continuing. What do you think?

Warning: cursing and shenaniganery

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

I'm sure you've heard about me. I'm special. I'm the chosen one. I'm who your boyfriend thinks about when he's with you. I'm the friend you don't want to leave alone with your dad.

My name is Anastasia and today is the day I die.

The sun is shining high in the sky, of course, it is blue and without clouds. There is a light breeze, the trees are green and the birds are chirping. I hate all of it. The bus is even on time. My MP3 player plays my favorite songs one after the other but nothing could cheer me up. The stupid prophecy told at my birth is haunting me. It's the third week after my 16th birthday. I'm supposed to die today. What a crock of shit.

"Ana! Happy birthday!!!!"

My best friend, Lorie, is waiting for me at my locker, as usual. She's so noisy. "You're late."

"I know, I'm just trying to be annoying."

I throw my bag into my locker and sigh. It's so hard to pretend that everything is alright. I wish I could tell Lorie about the dark thoughts plaguing me but she wouldn't understand. Just then, a spicy shiver runs up my spine and I turn to look at a boy standing at the end of the hallway. He's tall, dark and handsome of course. If he's my murderer I guess I don't mind too much. Annoyed with his typical antics, I close my locker and ignore my best friend to stalk towards him.

"It's polite to come up to someone and introduce yourself instead of staring from across the hallway like a creep."

He smiles. His teeth are sharp as fuck. I kinda wonder what they'd feel like embedded in my neck. Yikes. "Hello, Anastasia."

Of course he knows my fucking name. "Sup, dickwad. Are you the specially chosen murderer?"

He's smiling really wide now, pleased that I've identified him. "Yes, that's me. Shall we get along then?"

I sigh deeply but nod. Might as well get this over with, right? I get to miss math. Lorie appears next to me in an instant like she wasn't just standing behind us and spying on every word.

"Ana, where are you going? Who's your friend?"

I look expectantly at my new friend. I'm not dealing with the explanations here; if he wants to take me away he's gonna have to find all the excuses.

"My name is Ryan." He places an arm around my waist. "I'm just taking... Ana here for a little surprise date. I missed her birthday."

I resist the urge to shrug his arm off and look at Lorie. "Cover for me, okay?"

She watches me go with this strange boy, mouth agape. Within a few minutes, we're walking into the little strip of forest that surrounds our school's football field. I just want to get this over with honestly. I want this stupid dark cloud that's been hovering over my head for the past decade to go away!

"This should be fine." Ryan's voice is in my ear and it takes everything in me not to exclaim 'thank God'. "Any last words?"

"...I got nothing."

I hear the sound of a knife being drawn from its sheath and I am so ready for the knife to pierce my flesh but before that can happen, I hear an 'oof' and the sounds of wrestling. This wasn't in the prophecy, what the fuck? Another equally tall, dark and handsome boy is fighting Ryan, keeping him from executing his devious plan. I almost tell him to let it happen but honestly I'm vaguely intrigued now. Usually, a normal girl would run away now, right? But nah, class is far from over and I could use some entertainment. Eventually, Ryan snarls and disappears into the foliage. My savior stands panting for a while looking after my assailant in case he returns I assume. Eventually, he turns back towards me and I'm struck and smitten in an instant which honestly is so stupid cause who is this man?! He smiles at me.

"Sorry I'm late."

"...right." What the actual heck. "Who... are you? Where do you come from?"

"They didn't tell you?" He seems alarmed. "I'm your guardian angel."

A guardian angel? Fucking great. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Shit." He mutters to himself for a little bit. "Alright. Okay. Listen... I'll talk to you later, alright? There's some... things I have to check out."

I shrug. "Sure, I guess."

He's gone in the next few minutes and I'm left wondering what the hell just happened.

My name is Anastasia. My 16th birthday was three weeks ago and today was the day I was supposed to die. So... what the hell just happened?

The bell rings, signaling the end of math class and my unfortunate return to normal. Lorie is waiting for me wide-eyed at my locker. I can sense the questions fighting in her mind.

"He was a prick. Don't ask questions."

She flails her arms around. "What do you mean don't ask questions?! You disappeared for an entire class somewhere with some mysterious man!"

"Yeah. It was not at all what I expected it to be and honestly, I would not do it again."

We go to our next class, Lorie still sputtering for words next to me. The end of the day cannot come fast enough. My guardian angel is leaning against the fence as we walk out, smoking a cigarette. For a second, I can see the ghostly outline of wings on his back, they are huge and mottled gray, but they disappear as soon as he turns his gaze towards us. Again, I am struck by how my body reacts to him. It's a tingle between my legs and a laser focus, everything falling away but his face. This is super annoying.

"Holy shit, Ana, who's this hottie? Is today your real birthday or?" Lorie is outwardly as excited as I feel on the inside.

He smiles. throws his cigarette to the ground and watches us approach. He's fucking sexy, what the hell. I wanna mash face with him real bad.

"I see you're in one piece."

"Thanks to you." Jesus, am I flirting? "I never did get your name."

"I'm James." His smile makes me want to bite into his lower lip. "We should get you home."

"Yeah, um," I turn towards Lorie. "This is my best friend Lorie. I'll see you later?"

She's too busy staring at him to say goodbye but she still waves at me. James puts his arm around my waist and steers me away. The day is still beautiful. If I didn't know better, I'd think we were a normal boy and girl out on a date. Of course there's the nagging sensation that I'm supposed to die at any moment now that really takes away from the idyllic scenery but honestly, James' presence makes me feel... safe. Which is actually terrifying. Suddenly I wonder if maybe he's the one sent to kill me. Hm, I wouldn't actually mind. Next thing I know, we've made it to the cemetery.

"Uh. Why are we here?"

He smiles again. I feel all kinds of melty. "I wanna show you something."

Yikes. "Actually, I should get home."

His grip around me tightens. "Come along, now, don't make this hard on yourself."

I fucking knew it, how frustrating. I sigh and roll my eyes. "You couldn't fucking do this in the woods?"

He seems surprised by my lack of fear but this doesn't stop him from pulling towards the cemetery. I feel like I'm about to cause a scene cause I'm done with today, I just wanna go home and take a long ass nap. "Nah, listen you lost your chance and I wanna go home now."

He pulls harder now and I nearly fall to the ground. "You're a real brat, aren't you?"

For fuck's sake. "You bet your ass I am!" Just as I'm taking a breath to yell for help, another dark shape shows up out of nowhere and barrels into James. Another savior I guess? But this time I don't stick around to make acquaintance, I just book it all the way home. It's a really good thing I live near the cemetery ‘cause my cardio is pretty terrible for my age. My mom is sitting on the couch with her head in her hands when I barge in.

"Ana!" She gasps and runs to me, looking me over. "Y-you're okay, you're alive!"

"Yeah! Weirdly enough. I mean, I have two murder attempts to my name but I'm... all in one piece?"

"Oh wow, this is.... oh wow." She seems at a loss for words. Honestly so am I; the day's nearing its end and I'm alive and well. "We should celebrate!"

"Let's wait ‘til tomorrow at least." I calm her. "Day's not over yet."

"Right, right, of course." But I can tell that she's overjoyed by this. We've been waiting for this day for years and years, since I'm old enough to understand the concept of death. It made for a pretty rebellious and daredevil childhood. We settle down in front of the TV with drinks and a shotgun, y'know, just in case, but pretty soon it's 11 PM and we're both nodding off.

"Now can I throw you a party?" My mom asks sleepily.

Before I can answer, there's the sound of breaking glass from somewhere upstairs. Immediately, we are both alert and ready, the shotgun is in my mom's hands before I know it.

"Alright, you fucking bastards. Come at me." Not gonna lie, she sounds like a fucking badass.

A few minutes later, a bad boy strolls casually down the stairs, still brushing glass from the sleeves and shoulders of his leather jacket. A pair of black wings are neatly folded at his back, they're almost as big as the ones I've seen on James. I'm startled by this boy's red eyes as they settle on me. He has fangs when he smiles. Mom cocks the gun.

"Get out of my house."

"It was really hard to find you, Anastasia. You should give your guardian angel a break."

Another one? "Thanks but I already have one and he tried to kill me."

The intruder stops in his lazy casual stroll. "James is here?" He looks towards a window, whispering to himself. "Fucking asshole."

"Yeah, so you can go ahead and leave." My mom gestures with the gun towards the door. "Go on, get."

"Listen, there's been a misunderstanding." He resumes his lazy stroll down the stairs. "I'm your actual guardian angel. My name is Bast. Like the Egyptian godess. James is my annoying twin brother and he's a prick so."

My mom and I exchange a look. He's a persistent little fuck, isn't he? But before she can shoot off a warning shot, there's another sound of broken glass. This is gonna cost a fortune to fix, as my mom colorfully remarks. James is flying down the stairs in the next instant, looking mightily pissed off.

"Oh, Bast. How awful to see you again. Thanks for leading me to the girl."

Bast makes a face. Mom and I exchange another look. Things just got way weird, this was not part of the prophecy at all. "Wait, wait." Mom waves the shotgun between the both of them. "What is going on? Who are you people?"

At the same time, both boys put their hands to their chest and lean forward exclaiming; "I'm her guardian angel!"

They glare sideways at each other. On the one hand, it's really nice to be so desired by two cute boys but on the other hand one of them is clearly insane and wants to kill me and the jury is still out on the other. I wish there was a clear sign as to which one I should trust if any. ...Granted, I'm less inclined to trust James after the whole cemetery thing.

"I can't have two guardian angels, that makes no sense."

"You're absolutely correct, it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."

I look between the three people in my living room for a while. "Do we.... do we have a written copy of this prophecy somewhere? Can we talk to the person who made it? Cause I mean... I remember it by heart. At least the part that I heard but uh.... apparently it’s incorrect or incomplete."

Mom sighs, lowering the shotgun but brings it back up almost immediately, eyeing the boys suspiciously. "Mythril disappeared not very long after your birth so honestly, I'm not sure how we could even get in contact with her. You know how it is with those people."

"...Actually, I don't."

She ignores me by staring down the two boys hard. "If any of you causes any kind of shit I am going to put a bullet in your face faster than you can cackle."

They both nod and mom goes to the kitchen to get herself a drink. I can hear the clink of glass and the splash of alcohol at its bottom. Man, I could go for some booze too. Bast is staring at me with his red eyes, completely impassive. He looks like a large feline sizing up its prey. James, on the other hand, is still looking gorgeous and nonchalant. Mom comes back with two glasses and hands me one. She is a blessing, I love her.

"Cheers." She doesn't wait for me to chug hers in maybe one or two gulps. I raise my glass to empty air and then to my lips when the door slams open by an unseen force. There's a dark silhouette in the doorway. Somewhere in the city, the church chimes midnight.

"Well, well..." A sultry, smoky voice drifts out from under the wide brim of the silhouette's black hat. "Have I come at the wrong time?"

Mom lowers the shotgun she's lifted to the door with a sigh. "Speak of the devil."

"That's vexing both to me and the devil." The woman walks in like she owns the place, elegantly removing her long gloves before she takes off her hat and shakes out long dark curls. "I thought you'd be happier than this to see me." She pauses when she sees me and the boys pretending to be my guardian angels. "Oh, what's this then?"

"We were kinda hoping you'd tell us." I take this opportunity to chug my drink. The burn seems to spark some life back into me.

"Who is this?"

The woman smiles, her beautiful lips are painted blood red. "It's nice to see you alive and well, Anastasia. My name is Mythril."

So this is the famous Mythril! She looks like a black widow waiting for her next prey. I'm certain she's had multiple marriages that all ended in terrible and tragic accidents if you know what I mean.

"Yeah, so we have a lot of questions." I shoot back. "First of all, what's up with these guys?" I point at James and Bast. "I feel like you didn't tell us the whole prophecy, tee bee aetch."

"Young ones are so impatient these days!" She exclaims as she settles on the couch. Mom has put the shotgun down for now. I assume Mythril holds some kind of power and can intervene if anything goes south. "I couldn't reveal the whole prophecy when you were born because of... well, this. Had I told you then, this might not have happened and you would almost certainly be dead at this point."

"Not for lack of trying," I mutter under my breath. "You're talking like that wasn't the whole point of the prophecy."

Mythril sighs. "The prophecy, or at least the part that I told you, goes something like 'on the 21st day of your 16th year, your life will end'." Sounds about right. "What I failed to mention was that the arrival of your death day also heralds the arrival of your guardian angels, one of light and one of darkness. You must make a choice but choose wisely. Your chosen will determine your fate."

You have got to be kidding me. I don't have the best taste in men as Lorie can attest. My ex is kind of a mega douchebag. "Oh yikes. So um. How long do I have to choose?"

"Now." Mythril's eyes are glowing and she opens her arms towards the two boys. "The telling of the prophecy is the opening of the poll. You have to make a choice."

"That's not fucking fair!" I stomp my foot like a child. "Don't I get a free trial or something?! I barely know these guys and at least one of them already tried to kill me."

James scoffs. "Not likely."

"Your choice must be made."

"Oh yeah?" I cross my arms. "Then I choose neither and you can fight me about it."

Mythril's glowing eyes slowly lose their shine and she lets her arms fall. She gives my mom a look. "You raised a real brat, Gen."

My mom shrugs. "I raised a smart kid."

"Unbelievable." Bast is chuckling. "You won't choose me even though my sweet brother almost killed you? You are one strange girl."

"And you're one ginormous asshole, get out of my house." I look around at all the strange kids giving me strange looks. "Actually, all of you get out of my house." I catch my mom's eyes. "Right, sorry, our house. Get out. We can talk again once I've slept off the fuckery of anxiety that was today. Until then I won't listen to reason and you'll all get on my nerves so get out."

"You heard the girl, out miscreants." Mom picks the shotgun back up and uses it to usher the supernatural creatures out of the front door. "Business hours are between whenever we decide to wake up and never. Take care."

There is a tense moment of silence when we slam the door shut behind them then we both let out deep sighs. Man, what a day.

My name is Anastasia. I am 16 years old. It’s been 22 days since my birthday. I was supposed to die yesterday. Now I have to choose a guardian angel to ensure my survival?

#word witch #writing #oc #short story #story #original writing #mine #my writing #writerblr #writeblr #storyblr #angel #mary sue #mary sue the legend

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yourfaceislikeabluemoon · 5 years

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Stolen Kisses, Suspicious Glances ~ Part 1

Words: 2355

Warning: Suggestive material, strong language, not too bad, but not innocent by any means.

A/N: This is something I wrote of my own accord because this is one of my favorite if not my favorite pairing in Monsta X. I wanted to split this up because it was quite long and this first part is more on the ‘mild’ side whereas the second part is fairly, um, hardcore. I’ll post the rest later, as I’m dealing with slight writer’s block right now so I wanted to get something up in case anyone actually likes reading my writing. I hope you enjoy and as always, I love feedback so feel free to share your thoughts! Ok, enough blabbing!

~~~~~

The roar of the fans' screams echoed throughout the room as it was plunged into darkness. The two boys leaped to their feet and rushed off stage, Changkyun slipping his jacket off his toned arms.

"What was that?" Hyungwon shouted at the younger man.

"What was what?" Changkyun asked innocently, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. The two reached the backstage area, the din of the crowd becoming white noise behind them.

"Why did you grab my hand like that?" Hyungwon asked, looking slightly flustered. "You didn't do that in any of the rehearsals."

Changkyun just shrugged as he grabbed a bottle of water, taking a few gulps. "I knew it would set the fans off even more. Don't worry. I didn't mean anything by it."

Hyungwon noticed a twinkle in Changkyun's eyes that wasn't there earlier. He wanted to press the topic further but the stagehands were ushering them back on stage so he decided to bring it up later after the show. He put a smile back on his face as he jogged back on stage, trying to push the whole situation out of his mind and focus on the rest of his performance.

Hyungwon wouldn't admit it to anyone else -- he barely wanted to admit it to himself -- but the choreography he just finished performing with Changkyun stirred up feelings in him that he hadn't fully been aware he had. They had practiced it over and over again and each time the deep-seated feelings became stronger. He would forcefully shake his head to try to rid his mind of these strange thoughts about his groupmate, Changkyun asking if he was ok or if he needed a break. Hyungwon would just give him a half-hearted smile and tell him "I messed up a few steps in the middle. I just got frustrated with myself. I'm fine. Let's run through it again." Then they'd continue as nothing happened.

The image of Changkyun guiding his hand across his chest a few minutes before resurfaced in Hyungwon's mind, catching him off guard and causing him to silently slouch a little in an effort to hide his heated face. The group was in the middle of answering questions and explaining part of one of their music videos. Most everyone was busy talking but Minhyuk noticed his sudden change and walked over to wrap him in a tight, encouraging hug. The crowd erupted into ‘aww's' but both boys ignored it.

"You ok?" he asked lowly in Hyungwon's ear.

Hyungwon flinched slightly at the contact but turned so he wasn't facing the crowd. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thought of something. I'm fine, really."

Minhyuk nodded and gave him an encouraging smile, squeezing his shoulder before walking back to his original position. Hyungwon composed himself and turned back to the fans, a smile back on his face once again.

---

Changkyun grabbed Hyungwon's arm roughly as he tried to quietly make his way into the hotel without anyone noticing.

"You've been ignoring me and acting really weird since our unit performance earlier. What's wrong, hyung?" Changkyun loosened his grip and slid his hand up Hyungwon's arm to his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. He looked genuinely concerned that he had done something to bother the older member and it broke Hyungwon's heart to look at his upset face.

Sighing deeply, Hyungwon forced a smile. "I feel like I need to talk to you about something. Something kind of important. Can you come over to my room once you get changed and settled and everything, please?"

Changkyun still looked worried, but he nodded and promised he would be over as soon as he could. Both boys headed upstairs with everyone else and they all split up into their separate rooms.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on Hyungwon's door. He had been pacing with worry, the TV quietly on in the background, offering no semblance of distraction from his intrusive thoughts. He took a few long strides to reach the door and threw it open with more force than he expected of himself. There stood a still worried Changkyun, wringing his hands and shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously. Hyungwon gestured for him to come in, stepping to the side to let him pass.

"What did I do?" Changkyun blurted out, standing awkwardly as Hyungwon collapsed on his bed.

"I don't know if I can honestly say you did anything," Hyungwon mused out loud as he stared at the ceiling.

"What's that supposed to mean? Can you just tell me what's going on?" Changkyun half shouted before realizing that it was well past midnight and most of the other people in the hotel were bound to be sleeping by now. Lowering his voice slightly, he apologized. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry. But can you tell me because I've been going out of my mind since you told me to meet you up here."

Hyungwon sat up and studied the younger man's face. He opened his mouth to speak but Changkyun cut him off.

"Wait! Is this because of the hand thing earlier?" He let out a small, forced-sounding laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "I told you I didn't mean anything by it."

Hyungwon couldn't help but notice Changkyun's expression change from worried to visibly hurt. "That has something to do with it I guess, yeah." He moved to prop himself up against the headboard and motioned for Changkyun to sit down on the bed. He hesitated but soon took a seat, staring at his hyung expectantly. Hyungwon took a deep breath before trying to explain himself. "I've been having these...strange thoughts lately. They came up when we first started practicing the unit performance. God, I really don't want you to hate me for this!"

Changkyun shook his head, "I could never! Please tell me. I want to know so I can help if I can." He offered a slight smile in an effort to encourage Hyungwon to continue.

"We've been in this group for years now, you'd think I would've figured this out earlier. But this unit performance seems to have...rewired my brain or something." He shook his head. "I don't know if I'll be able to explain this without it sounding like I'm out of my mind or something but I'll do my best. Being that close in practice so often and performing such, well, intimate moves has stirred up these different feelings in me. I can't seem to get you off my mind and apparently I'm not handling it as well as I should be because members, including you, have noticed I've been acting odd. Defining these feelings seems almost impossible right now so that's not really something I can explain. But I really needed to talk to you about it since it's all I can think about lately." Hyungwon quieted, staring at his hands in his lap, picking at his nails and desperately trying to avoid Changkyun's gaze. Changkyun, on the other hand, was trying to process the information his hyung had just offered him while also trying to make eye contact. The latter being very hard to do considering he was staring at the top of Hyungwon's bowed head.

"Hey, look at me." Changkyun broke the silence, scooting closer and placing his hand on Hyungwon's crossed leg. "I'm not upset. Don't think I'm upset. I'm just surprised is all. I thought you were gonna admit to doing something really stupid that you were afraid of getting in trouble for."

Hyungwon slowly raised his gaze to Changkyun's warm, smiling face. "I may be the quiet one but getting in trouble for stupid shit is the maknae's job!"

Changkyun laughed and punched his hyung's arm, "Hey! That's not fair. There's others that are far worse than I am."

"I guess you're right." Hyungwon stretched out and patted the spot next to him. Changkyun crawled over and sprawled out comfortably.

"Why me though? Like what is it about me? I don't look like Nu or Wonho…" Changkyun seemed uncharacteristically self-conscious.

Hyungwon rolled his eyes and turned to face the other man, propping up his head on his hand. "I already told you I don't know how to define it or explain it. It makes as much sense to me as it does to you. Besides," he shrugged, "You're plenty attractive in your own way. Just because you don't look exactly the same as one of them certainly doesn't make you any less attractive."

Changkyun lied there, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide with shock, and let out a small chuckle. "Why did you calling me attractive sound so natural coming out of your mouth?"

"I don't know but I think you're right. Honestly, I like saying it." He smirked. "You're really attractive."

Changkyun let out a fake irritated sigh and glanced at the other man out of the corner of his eye. Returning his gaze to the ceiling, he thought for a while before closing his eyes. "I've decided I like hearing you say it." He opened his eyes and turned his head to find Hyungwon staring at him with an indiscernible look in his eyes. Changkyun moved to sit up and Hyungwon matched his position, holding his gaze the entire time.

Changkyun felt strange and kind of ridiculous admitting it to himself, but he was getting lost in Hyungwon's eyes. "What are you thinking about?" He breathed.

"You guiding my hand across your chest earlier and how you responded to my touch. Even if it was for just for show, I enjoyed it, to say the least." Hyungwon smiled, tilting his head in thought.

Changkyun instinctively leaned slightly closer. "I might have lied a little. It might not have been just for show." He sighed lightly, gaze flitting between Hyungwon's dark eyes and his temptingly plump lips.

Hyungwon's gaze darkened and his smile transformed into a devilish grin, "Is that so?" He chuckled, "And just when were you thinking of sharing that important sliver of information?"

Random thoughts were whirling through Changkyun's head, but he couldn't think of a single smartass remark to make. His mind was too focused on his hyung's lips to form anything coherent. There was a strange feeling in his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was nervousness or just pure want. He gave up trying to figure it out, "Just shut the fuck up and kiss me."

Hyungwon successfully hid his surprise at the sudden bluntness and smirked as he lightly traced Changkyun's sharp jawline with his fingertips. The younger man melted into his touch, sighing deeply, his eyes fluttering shut blissfully. Hyungwon relished the response to his touch, his heart suddenly clenching warmly, a harsh contrast to the lustful attraction coursing through his veins.

"Please," Changkyun whined desperately. His hyung gladly complied. His own lips melted onto the younger's. They were awfully warm and soft. So soft.

Changkyun let out a quiet moan as their lips moved in sync, achingly slow. His mind was a mess with the idea that he was finally kissing the lips that he so often caught himself staring at for so long. A sudden wave of confidence washed over him, causing him to lightly bite Hyungwon's lower plush lip, eliciting an unexpected moan from the older man. He chuckled softly in response, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the other man's soft hair, still damp from the shower he had taken when they reached the hotel. Hyungwon leaned into his touch, pushing his body closer to the others. Changkyun sighed into the kiss and pushed the older man back on the bed. He straddled him, never breaking the kiss in the process. Hyungwon's hands snaked up and down his sides, fingertips leaving a newfound heat in their wake.

His hands suddenly stopped their repetitive movements, one resting on Changkyun's hip, the other softly pushing his face away and breaking the heated kiss. "Wait! I don't want to rush this. I don't want you to feel like you have to move things forward just because I admitted things to you."

"Who said anything about rushing?" Changkyun smiled down at the older man. "I can confidently say I want this as much as you do."

Hyungwon chuckled, "I can see that. But still, maybe let's just wait a little while before taking things any further." He gently brushed a few strands of hair out of Changkyun's face. "I kinda just want to experience...you. Before I'm pounding into you throughout the wee hours of the morning and experiencing you in a whole other way, you know."

Changkyun stared down at his face, an amused look painted over his face. "I don't know if that was really fucking romantic or just heavily tainted with horny undertones."

Hyungwon chuckled and shrugged, "Both." He pulled him down into another kiss, much softer and more relaxed than before. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, slowly and gently kissing in the dimly lit room. Just reveling in the feeling of each other, eventually moving positions to where they were lying side by side, legs entwined and hands innocently roaming over each other with no pointed motive.

Neither one of them knowing how much time had passed, sleep eventually began to tug at them. His attention suddenly turned back to the TV that had been playing softly in the background the whole time, Hyungwon fished around for the remote. Switching it off, he tossed the remote somewhere off to the side and turned the bedside light off, plunging the room into darkness. Changkyun sighed quietly next to him, cuddling in closer and reaching up to graze his fingertips across his cheek. Lazily kissing for the next few minutes, both cherished the closeness and intimacy.

"This is really nice," Changkyun breathed. "I could stay like this forever."

Hyungwon hummed, "I wouldn't mind that at all." And with that he let sleep overtake him, arms wrapped loosely around the younger man next to him, breath gently fanning Changkyun's face. Changkyun smiled to himself, thankful he had come over, and he, too, escaped into a quite sound sleep.

#monsta x #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x changkyun #hyungwon #changkyun #hyungwon x changkyun #member x member #monsta x smut #monsta x changkyun smut #monsta x hyungwon smut #changkyun smut #hyungwon smut #hyungwon changkyun smut #bias/bias wrecker writing

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capshorty · 5 years

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11/11 (Make A Wish) Tag

Another tag game! Yes! I was tagged by @minnowf.

Rules: Answer the 11 questions of the person who tagged you; make up 11 questions; tag 11 people to answer them.

1. What is your favorite book on writing / place to get writing tips?

This question I can answer immediately, with no hesitation whatsoever. It’s probably one of the most common answers today, but that’s just because it’s so good. Stephen King’s On Writing is absolutely my go-to book for everything writing related, and also the book that I carry with me to read when the random time to do so arises. Part memoir, part instruction on writing, amazing all the way through. As for places to get tips, Tumblr is where I tend to stumble upon the most and some of the best I’ve seen.

2. What do you want to improve on in your writing right now?

This is a tough one. In general, description, and when/where to use it. If I don’t think consciously about it, at least to an extent, it will basically be non-existent. If I think too hard about it, then I put in way too much. As opposed to things like dialogue, which probably isn’t amazing but at least comes naturally to me. As for my original writing, confidence is a big one for me right now. Fanfiction comes so natural to me; I never second guess the solidity of my writing when it’s fanfiction (perhaps I should a bit more, but I don’t). Original stuff terrifies me and I doubt it so much more.

3. Describe for me your ideal writer’s nook.

This is a difficult one. Hm. Somewhere cozy, for sure. Somewhere where I can curl up, with a table for me to have snacks and such nearby, preferably somewhere I can see nature and where there’s no distractions (aka people) whatsoever. If I could have one of those little window seat nooks with like pillows and blankets just built in to the wall of like a library or something, like the kind of thing you see or read about in books/movies, I would adore that.

4. Do you have a writing ritual? If so, what is it? If not, why?

Why do I not have a writing ritual? I dunno. Probably should, but I really don’t. I can’t honestly say that there’s anything I do or don’t do every time I write, or even most of the time. When and how I write is just so unpredictable that up til now having a ritual has been kind of impossible.

5. What are some of your hobbies outside of writing?

Hm. Reading, obviously, is a huge one for me, though I tend to go through patches where I either read a lot or write a lot, and somehow never manage to do both at the same time. Outside of that, music is a huge hobby for me. I sing (decently), like a lot. I daydream enough it ought to count as a hobby.

6. Which of your stories has made the greatest impact on you? How?

I’d have to say the first story I ever wrote made the biggest impact on me, because that was my first moment where I was realized that writing was a viable thing that I could do and something I liked to do very much. Second to that, Undercover Disaster probably would be the next greatest, just because it was the first massive project that I ever completed that I felt was actually quality and like it could stand on its own, not as a fanfiction (even though the original I am referencing here was in fact a fanfiction. But the point is if I’d changed the characters names you’d never have guessed that.)

7. Which color/s would best represent your WIPs?

Well, let’s see. If I’m going with the ones I’m currently trying to focus on, then there’s a few. Little Red would, for obvious reasons, be varying shades of red - for blood, for violence, for Red’s hair, for passion. Exile is a difficult one, because there’s so much going on there. I’d have to say purple, for a mix of the whites and blues and reds; blue for the adventures, the waters and the skies that will connect everything, red for the passion and brutality again, white for the possibilities of where it can go, not only in the future but in second draft stage as I reach it. Only time will tell for Undercover Disaster as I start to redraft it - I have no idea what will stay and what will go as it transitions from FF to original. With time travel I immediately think black - because black kind of consumes all other colors, and encompasses everything, and this story has a little bit of everything, all surrounded by the changing circumstances of hopping through time and space. And if the void of time and space isn’t black, what color is it?

8. Have you ever written fanfiction? If so, on what? If not, why?

I suppose I’ve accidentally answered this question a few times now. Yes, I’ve written a crap ton of fanfiction - maybe two crap tons - and it definitely outnumbers my original attempts at least twenty to one. Fanfiction is what I started on and I don’t know that I’ll ever quit writing it, regardless of whether I quit posting it or not. Most of what I’ve written has been for Artemis Fowl because I absolutely adore and hate it. I’ve dabbled a few others, however, notably the Legend of Zelda, a bit of Alex Rider fanfiction that never quite made it online, some Kingfountain (conceptually; apparently I’m one of the only ones who knows these books exist, so I never got very far on that), and recently I’ve read and fell in love with Throne of Glass, so I’m working on something for that as well.

9. What do you believe are the greatest influences on your writing?

On my writing today? Most of what formed my style and preferences were things I read, whether it be books or fanfiction, good or bad. Media doesn’t play much part with me, since Tumblr is just about the only thing I use regularly and most of my ideas come from either spinoffs or AUs of stories I’ve read or two or three random things that just happen to come together in my head and make something semi-coherent. So yeah, I’d have to go with things I’ve read, and also my surroundings.

10. What’s a story you could have written better than their original writers?

Well. Um. I feel like no matter how you answer a question like this, you’ll make someone mad, so I’ll just be honest here. I already stated how I love/hate Artemis Fowl, because I love the concepts and the characters and how the author started out and then it just all kind of went downhill after book 3 in my opinion. Given the same number of books he was, I definitely feel like I could have done a better job, or at least I could improve upon the job he did. Even if I could only touch the end of the eighth book alone, I feel like I make it so much better. But maybe that’s just me being bitter.

11. If you got to go anywhere on a research trip for one of your stories, where would you go, what would be your agenda, and which story would you be researching?

This question is kind of wasted on me, and for that I am sorry. But I’d be lying if I said it was really about researching anything for writing, because a lot of my stuff isn’t the type of thing I could just take a trip and do research about, as the things I really would need to research either don’t exist (yet) or existed in the past. So, if I were taking a trip I wanted to be conducive to writing, I’d probably want to go to Ireland, or to Maine in the US. Reasons being that nature-y/green places are so inspiring to me, and because some of my favorite writers live in or came from those places.

Tagging: @the-evanescent-inkwell @mistbornvinventure @shadowfire71-writes @hoofgirl @thel3tterm @somedeadmagic @jynecca @writeness @ofinscriptions @mischiefiswritten @coloursintheblur

Questions for YOU!

1. How old were you when you realized writing was something you wanted to do? How old were you when you actually started doing it?

2. What are your favorite fandoms? Do you read or write fanfiction for any of them?

3. What was your first story idea that you really felt was solid?

4. What’s your best solution for getting over writer’s block?

5. What book(s)/author(s) have you read that you think of influenced your writing most?

6. Which of your story was/is the easiest to write? Which was the hardest?

7. What are some of your favorite tropes to read/write?

8. If you could date ANY fictional character, who would it be?

9. What are some of your favorite things to do outside of writing?

10. Where would be your ideal place to live?

11. What’s the most underrated book you’ve ever read? Most overrated?

Have fun everyone! :D

#writing #tag game #fandoms #fanfiction #ff #ffs #my writing #11/11

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quilloftheclouds · 5 years

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11/11/11 (... x7???)

You guys really love this tag game, huh? XD Tagged by @madammuffins, @bigmoodword, @shadeshadow234, @writeouswriter, @bookenders, @kaisha-writes, and @penzag.

Rules: Answer 11 (77 in this case??) questions, tag 11 people, write 11 new questions.

Taggin’ taggin’ @scottishhellhound @i-rove-rock-n-roll @capricious-writes @writerlyclaire @bookenders @kidsarentallwrite @inexorableblob @vieliwrites @abalonetea @runningonrain @candy687

Oof. It’s my own fault for letting these gather dust for so long. QUICKFIRE QUESTION ROUND. (And super duper long post below the cut.)

Okay first up I’m gonna post up my 11 questions for tagged people to complete up here so y’all don’t have to scroll all the way through my nonsense:

1. Put yourself in your wip(s). Are you dead? Why or why not? 2. What is your favourite kind of scene to write? 3. What genre is your favourite to write in? 4. What genre do you want to/wish you could write in? 5. Which of your ocs outfits would you consider wearing yourself? 6. What’s the worst thing you’ve done to your ocs (out of context if spoilers)? 7. What’s the nicest thing you’ve done to your ocs? 8. Does your writing style have any characteristic traits? What are they? 9. What are three things you think you’re good at in writing? (NO SKIPPING OF THIS QUESTION ALLOWED) 10. Do you listen to music/white noise while writing? What kind? 11. Come up with joke titles for your wips. What are they?

And now let’s get started!

Do you title your chapters, why/why not? Do they pertain to what happens in the chapter or are they random? I do! I may actually post them all up at some point, I had a lot of fun coming up with them, and I find them clever? A lot of them are puns, it’s great. All except the first and last chapter are titled with one word, related to the ocean or ships, alluding and symbolizing something that happens in that chapter. I made it a sort of word search, too, since every chapter title appears somewhere important in that chapter! As for why? I think it adds to the reading experience, especially with the way I employ them!

Do your main characters seem to have common traits or characteristics? Uhhhh, uh? Huh. Lemme see. I tried to be pretty creative and use a lot of variance in my characters, but sometimes they just... end up that way, whether I want them to or not. Dione and Phoenix are both tall? Both Phoenix and Colin can be pretty friendly and have the same sort of attitude towards certain things. Other than that, I’m not sure!

Why do you think this is? Honestly, it’s likely more coincidence than anything. Also because Phoenix and Colin both work on a ship’s crew, and they have to work well with other people because of that.

Do you borrow real life people or parts of real life people to insert into your novels? Why/why not? Yes. From me especially. Probably subconsciously from other people. It happens! But also, relatability. Accuracy.

Do you stick to a word count in your novels/chapters? Why? Used to, don’t now. It can really add to the tension if a chapter is very short. It can hold the reader in suspense if it’s very long!

What do you want your book to say to those who read it? What do you think your book says about you? Uh. I mean. I’m a simple writer who just likes sharing my worlds with the world, yunno? Maybe when I get further into writing it, I’ll realize what. (But I hope it shows I’m an interesting person that cares about representation and sharing exciting stories??? Mebe?)

If your WIP gets published and goes far would you sign over your rights for a movie adaptation, even if it means it gets butchered like the Eragon (or similar) series did? Ohhh gosh. Yeah no. I’d wait until I was sure it wouldn’t be. I’m not in this for the money or fame, I’m here for the enjoyment of it and the helping others through sharing stories with people they can relate to. Especially those that don’t have much to relate to already.

What is your favorite kind of character chemistry to write? Sexual tension, anger, resentment, jealousy? What about it do you like so much? I really like softness. Someone trying to cheer someone up, nice caring-ness and encouragement through humour and inside jokes. Gives me warm feelings. Oh. That sounds a lot like Colin.

Which settings are your favorites? Chill cafe, Gorey battle field? Why? I like natureeee. A lot. IRL and in writing. I especially enjoy fascinating, eccentric and magical seeming places even if they’re not magical! Think the Giant’s Causeway in Ireland, or the Ice Caves of Baffin Island. That sort of thing.

What element represents your main character and why? HAH SPOILERS. Elements play a major part of OSS, my friend. How about I just put the elements, and you decide who’s who. Earth, Fire, Storm, Forest.

If you could pick an AU for your WIP (alternate universe) for a fan work, what au would you choose and why would you choose it? AKJHKDJSH I’VE ALREADY PLANNED OUT MY OWN AUs, MY FRIEND. My fave at the moment is magical modern spies. Because a lot of my characters are immortal and I love to imagine what they would be like in modern times! ...Oh wait, that’s not what au means. -u-

1. Who was your first OC? Of One Siren’s Soul’s cast, Celestine! Overall, that I can remember... a German scientist/mechanical engineer named Suin Omera. Ah, so many memories. 2. What was the first story you ever wrote? That I can remember... a little short story for school about a girl who lost her dad and discovered he had been secretly living in the arctic for a long time so she goes to try and find him? I don’t remember much about it. ^^’ 3. What book (or other piece of media) has most inspired you? AH. Most??? Literally the unpublished books of my two closest friends. @waterfallwritings, I’m looking at you. >u> 4. How do you fight writer’s block? Badly. 5. What is your favorite genre to write in and why? Fantasy and sci-fi! Or a mix. You can find a more full answer here. 6. How would you describe your writing style? Uhhhh, I have a very action-y writing style? Unless the sort of mood requires, I don’t tend to use a lot of description and I more often focus on action and dialogue and character thoughts/narrative. It’s fitting to what I write, I suppose, because it’s an action packed pirate adventure, with a lot of focus on character. 7. In general, do you think you’d get along with your protagonists? Phoenix and Colin are nice. Dione maybe after a long while, since we both like literature and plants. Celestine... no one ever gets along with Celestine. 8. What do you love most about your WIPs? Oh. I uh. Wow. I only have one right now, but I like characters and their interactions and their thoughts on each other. But mostly I just love how far I’ve come already. That the wip even exists. ^^’ 9. What is your favorite character trope? Ah. Not good with tropes... I reblogged something on this a while ago, but that scene where someone spends forever taking out a comically massive amount of weapons from unexpected places on their person? That’s fun. 10. What is your least favorite character trope? Mmmm hmm. Hm. Mostly ones that discriminate or are based on negative stereotypes. Some of them can be done well, but not... many. 11. What’s an upcoming scene you’re excited to write? Someone’s gettin’ STABBED.

What was your first character like? See in an earlier question ^^^

What’s your most recent character like? Oh, this is neat. Who’s my most recent character? Uhhhh, um. I think it’s actually... I don’t have a name for them yet, but it’s a young siren that appears in book two that helps our main cast on their adventure!

Out of all of your characters, who’s the least human in appearance? Hehe. HEH. Oohhhh, this would definitely be Light. You don’t know who that is yet.

Who’s your worst character, and what would you do upon meeting them? Worst? The Scientist. Punch to the face.

If you could meet any of your characters, who would you choose? Uh. It’d be really cool to meet Forest! You don’t know who that is yet, either. ^^

Two of your characters from different WIPs meet! How do they get along? I don’t currently have another wip, but from my prospective wip at the moment, meeting... Celestine. Surprisingly it wouldn’t be the worst, because both would just start nerding out about each other’s technology.

Which out of your OCs just wants to live life out peacefully? George is so done with this trash.

Which one of your OCs is most definitely not living their life out peacefully? I want to say George again for the jokes, but the worst off at the moment is probably Dione. Sorry, Dione!

Is there any songs that make you think specifically of any of your characters? Ohhhh yeah. I’ll likely be making a full post for that at some point, and that’s also on each characters part of the wip page, but to save time, have this.

Which one of your OCs actually had a pretty good childhood? Dione had a relatively normal childhood, for the pretty-near equivalent of a princess. That is, of course, until she turned 24.

Who would have a fistfight with god out of spite? This actually happens. This ACTUALLY HAPPENS IN MY WIP. It’s Celestine.

1. What’s the weirdest thing you were ever inspired by for one of your WIPs?

Hmmmm, I mean tardigrades are pretty weird, right? Also awesome. They’re one of the most resilient known animals, able to survive both some of the highest AND the lowest temperatures known to have ever been survived by an organism? Awesome.

2. Do any of your OCs have famous face claims? If so, who are they?

Colin’s face claim is Booboo Stewart! He’s pretty famous?

3. What’s your favourite season and why?

Autumn. Pretty colours, perfect temperatures with a small jacket/sweater, and you get to experience the whole range of seasons from early Fall to late!

4. Do you have any superstitions?

Despite being a very logically, scientifically minded person... I am a Maritimer, and superstitions are huge. Never ever say before you go fishing that you’re definitely going to catch something. You’ll be skunked.

5. Rural, suburbs, city, in which do you live and which do you most often write about?

I guess I most write about rural, since... wait, what does the open ocean count as?? Anyways, I live in the suburbs.

6. What’s your favourite book series?

I dunno ‘bout favourites, but I like The Edge Chronicles by Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell.

7. Is there a book/series that ever left you intensely disappointed? (Or one that left you pleasantly surprised?)

Uh... I mean, The Hunger Games was actually really good, but I was disappointed by the public’s focus on the love triangle?

8. What’s one of the weirdest/funniest out of context lines from your WIPs?

“Don’t tell me the boatswain has got ‘imself into the rum store again.”

9. A movie/show that made you cry? (Unless you’re dead inside)

AHHAH I AM DEAD INSIDE AND TRULY A FICTIONAL SOCIOPATH. But, I think Simon Birch is one I can recall getting misty eyed from.

10. What movies or books or shows do you think are criminally underrated?

Uuhhhhhh Treasure Planet is one? I’m not good at this one. OH. You wanna know some shows I loved way too much from my childhood? Hot Wheels: Battle Force Five, and Storm Hawks. I was a terrible nerd.

11. Which fictional character would you like to steal borrow from any world for a crossover with your own WIP?

Ehheee, honestly, I could work with anything, pretty much. But the magic system colliding with the Avatar from The Last Airbender? Ehehehe, that would be hilarious.

Do you own and fun socks? What are they? My best friend love fun socks, and for my birthday she got me some: I have two pairs, a black pair with colourful gardening tools on them, and one with little labelled garden herbs on them. They’re adorable and I love them. ^u^

How many notebooks do you have? What do they look like? How full are they? HAH. SO MANY. Most are sketchbooks, but out of notebooks, I have... three? One’s for schoolwork, one’s full of old writing, and one is for OSS notes.

Grab the book nearest you. Turn to page 70 (or 16 if it’s a tiny book). What is the 8th line on that page? How do you feel about it? Brown Girl in the Ring by Nalo Hopkinson: I haven’t actually had the opportunity to start reading it yet, but here: “She’d never seen him at work, never experienced him as the type of person who could tend to another’s needs.” Considering I have no idea what’s going on... I have no idea?

Have you read any short stories? What’s your favorite? I’m not much of a short story reader, but there was a really cool one from a sci-fi compilation (that I can’t remember the name of). It was about time travelling and how it had already been invented, but because no one could ever go back in time, they could only go forward, no one had realized. It was kind of sad, now that I think of it, since the MCs ended up trying to travel back to their time when warned against it and they end up alone in the far future. Whoops.

Have you ever tried knitting? Do you still knit? What about other crafty things? What do you make? I tried it when I was back at home, but at the moment I don’t have the materials! As for crafts, I’m trying to get into bookbinding, card making... other sort of paper crafts. ^^

Of the books in your living space right now, which has the coolest cover? I’m sad now because I basically have no physical books here... aw. Um, The Cloud Collector’s Handbook by Gavin Pretor-Pinney is really pretty. Pastels and colourful skies and clouds are my favourite~

Do you know any camp songs? What did you used to sing in school, or at recess? Oh stars. I’m a Cub Scout Leader, my friend. OF COURSE I know camp songs. What did I used to sing in school? What’s the one with the “That’s the way, uh huh, uh huh/I like it, uh huh, uh huh” with the special clapping? That one. What’s that?

What’s your favorite fairy tale? How would you twist it? Well technically OSS includes some twists from The Little Mermaid, so does that count?

Are there any cool local events where you live? Ah, well daily we have the highest tides in the world. That’s pretty cool, huh?

What’s your favorite sea creature? Sea snakes. They’re deadly and pretty.

Do you like turtles? Why? Yes! YES! Turtles are adorable. Don’t put your finger near a Snapping Turtle’s mouth though.

1. If you could meet one author for lunch, who would it be?

Ooh, I’m bad about this. Say time travelling is an option: Roald Dahl. That would be amazing.

2. What are your thoughts on visual stories? (apps like Choices: Stories You Play, Episode, etc.)

Ah, I don’t really have much experience with them at all, so I can’t really say anything!

3. What was the first book to make you cry?

Have I ever cried at a book? Uhhhh... I may not have. Whoops.

4. Do you ever base your characters on people you know?

I mean, subconsciously probably? But I don’t typically think about other people when creating characters.

5. Name the worst book you’ve ever read, and tell me why it was bad.

Iiiii did not like Divergent. Sorry, that’s just a personal opinion. I guess it was too... dependent on a system that didn’t really make sense to me? I dunno, mate.

6. Do you have a trademark writing ‘quirk’?

I like short sentences in action-y scenes. Maybe that? I also really like using way too many em dashes and double line breaks to emphasize something.

7. Do you have any (un)helpful pets? (I couldn’t resist asking this one. Also, if the answer is yes, please send me photos.)

I don’t have any pets! I have planties though. Cute lil’ succulents.

8. What advice would you give to a person who is new to writing?

There are going to be times when you’re not happy with your writing! But any writing is helpful, because no matter what you write, you’re improving your skills to be better the next time. Plus, a first draft can be edited later! You can’t edit what’s not there~

9. Tell me your ideal writing environment.

My family partly owns a lake cabin out in the woods which we go to every summer. It’s so peaceful to sit in the hammock chair on the porch and write to the gentle lapping waves on the beach, the birdsong, and the swish of the tree branches around me. On a day with a perfect not-too-hot warm temperature, it’s very nice.

10. Sad endings: realistic, or unnecessary?

It depends how it’s executed! I prefer bittersweet ending to sad ones, since those tend to give me the most effective emotions. Certainly I tend to seek out happier endings instead, though!

11. You’ve decided to write under a pseudonym. What is it?

Ooh. Oohhhh, well. I’m actually thinking of changing my name legally. So that’s a thing. For a pseudonym, I think I would love to go with... hm. Gale Silver. Because I love puns and that hits on two major nature aspects I’m a nerd for.

what’s your favorite movie from your childhood? has this movie had an impact on your writing at all? have any movies had an impact on your writing? Hands down How To Train Your Dragon. I am a nerd who loves dragons and the music and scenery is gorgeous. Also just... so many of its themes snuck into my wip and I didn’t even realize until just recently. Whoops.

do you struggle to write for any ocs? why? are any of your ocs really easy to write for? Io is a little hard for me to write sometimes just because she’s so darn cold. Just. Apathetic towards everything, and super formal, yet at the same time very curt and to the point. I’m used to writing either a “formal” through super flowery language or a “cold” through Celestine’s mean snark, not just... Io.

do you have any big milestones coming up for your wip? (or blog? or work? or whatever?) I’M LESS THAN 2,000 WORDS AWAY FROM 50,000 IN MY FIRST DRAFT. YEAH MATE

what are your favorite writing resources for face claims, picking first names/surnames, etc? (feel free to just pick one resource to share but you’re welcome to share as many as you’d like!) Oh! I’m still pretty new to finding face claims and what not, but naming wise Wikipedia can cover all your bases sometimes. As I’m writing a historical fantasy, to find names that fit the time period, I’ll sometimes use this site.

if your ocs had a name for their group of friends, what would it be? (for example, most of y’all have noticed by now that the friend group for b’tzelem elohim is nicknamed “shalomies”) Okay but I still have such a love for that name. XD I call my group simply The Crew! Since, you know. They’re in a pirate crew by the end of the book. (My creativity knows no bounds.)

on a similar note, would they have a groupchat? (if your world doesn’t have technology, pretend it does!) Modern times, yeah prolly. Dione and Celestine would just have it muted except for emergencies, and Phoenix and Colin would just constantly be sharing memes and terrible puns.

how many languages can you speak, if any? how many can your characters speak, if any? I speak English and (Acadian) French! Trying to learn ASL at the moment. As for my characters? Hoo, boy. Without spoilers, Celestine is multilingual with four languages, Colin is almost trilingual, Dione is trilingual, and Phoenix... I think Phoenix can only speak English. Yeah that may seem like overkill, but in context it makes sense. ^^’

how much time do you spend planning/researching before starting your wip? Fun story about that! For one of my first serious wips, Soul Tied, I first came up with the ideas perhaps... six years ago? And I have yet to write a single thing. ^^’ For OSS, the story took maybe a month to completely plan out and outline, though I still do a lot of research and planning ahead as I write the first draft, too!

do you have a preferred area to write? (ie your bedroom, the coffee shop, the library, your kitchen, etc.) My desk in my bedroom!

what’s your favorite writing snack or drink? Ohh, I don’t eat while I write ‘cause I’m actually incapable of focusing on something while I eat, but I normally really like having apple spice tea or some other kind of herbal tea!

lastly, what should you be doing right now instead of this tag game? (ps: stop procrastinating even though, as i type this, i’m currently procrastinating) HAH. STUDYING FOR MY CHEMISTRY MIDTERM. IT’S FINE. NO.

Well that was long!

#oof #this is why you shouldn't procrastinate so much Quill #will i ever learn my lesson?#no #it was fun tho #oss #one siren's soul #tag game #writeblr #11 questions #11 questions tag game

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shawnskeds · 6 years

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Two of Us {S.M}

requested// imagine where you and Shawn are both to preform at the VMA’s and you meet at the rehearsals and it turns into a bit more

author’s note// so basically i hate boys so much literally they make me wanna kill myself I hate hate hate all of them they SUCK they only want you to sUCk their PENIS and then THEY LEAVE YOU

masterlist

You weren’t all that famous. You had like, one hit and a couple of songs people knew of. You weren’t by any means famous. You didn’t even consider yourself a singer, you considered yourself a poet, and you sang some on the side, and when your friend put one of your poems to music and it sounded really good and you, on a whim, decided to send it in to some record label. It became a hit really quickly, and you were actually horrified. You weren’t that amazing of a singer, and the poem was mediocre at best. You made a music video for it that really wasn’t amazing, it was in all honesty really confusing. But you somehow got a nomination at the VMA’s

What came next was what really shocked you the most. When you were asked to preform that song at the VMA’s, where a crapton of amazing artists were going to be preforming. As well as some incredibly attractive artists, one in particular being Shawn Mendes. You were borderline in love with him, to say the least, having all of his records on your phone, and during interviews describing him as your celebrity crush, and even before your song was noticed you were completely obsessed with him.

“Have you picked out a dress for the red carpet yet?” Your best friend, and music writer asked you as he flipped through a magazine on your hotel bed. You had separate rooms, but since you’ve checked in on Monday night he’s fallen asleep in your room after drinking a little too much or talking about things just a little too deep. He asked you dozens of times why in the world you were inviting him as your date to the VMA’s, because he said your nomination had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the direction of your music video. Every time he asked you made sure he knew you wouldn’t be here without him.

“I mean.... I went to the dress fitting yesterday.” You started to grumble, making sure you had all of your things together before you headed out to the rehearsals for your performance. “You were there, I have to call the place tonight and tell them which one so they can bring it here by Saturday, and I can’t pick myself.” You whined a little bit, having everything in your bag.

“As long as it isn’t what you’re wearing now.” Elliot sang in a mocking tone, scoffing just a tad bit. You looked down at your guns n roses sweatshirt and leggings and scoffed yourself.

“This is designer.” You threw a hand to your chest, in mock disarray.

“Ah yes, Madam Macy’s.” He threw his hand up, flicking his wrist.

“I’ll probably go with the blue one that puffs out like mid thigh. Makes my ass look fantastic.” You pressed your fingers to your lips and kissed them, causing Elliot to laugh just a little.

“That one looked nice. You tried on about a million, I have no idea how you’re going to pick.” He sighed. “I have all the photos on my phone, I’ll narrow it down to like, ten or less and we can decide when you get back from prancing around on the VMA’s stage looking like a baby deer.” He said just a tad bit too fast.

“I shall try to woo Shawn Mendes whilst looking like a baby deer.” You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder.

“Not dressed like that you’re not.” He called out after you as you slammed the door behind you. You and Elliot had been talking about how you were most definitely going to flirt with Shawn Mendes from the moment you found out you were both going to be preforming at the VMA’s. You knew you wouldn’t, Elliot knew you wouldn’t. It was just big talk about how you’d both meet hot male singers and fall in love at the VMA’s. It was all mainly a pipe dream.

The hotel was only a couple of blocks down from the venue. The people who set up the VMA’s are real smart like that, putting everyone in a hotel that was fairly close and putting all the performers at the same hotel. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been trying to run into him for the past three days with no avail. Until this glorious moment as you were about to get on the elevator to go to the lobby you felt a small tap on your shoulder. You expected a fan, or some other celebrity you had met at some point. You whipped your head around, and your eyes were met with none other than the beautiful, deep brown eyes of the man whose poster you still haven’t taken down yet. Well, you weren’t instantly met with his eyes, the man was a fucking tree so you were at first met with his chest and when you looked up you saw his eyes.

“Hey, so I know this is awkward, but um you’re (Y/N) right?” He ran his long fingers through his hair kind of awkwardly. But it was fine, because you were craning your neck at an incredibly uncomfortable and unattractive position.

“Yeah, and you’re Shawn Mendes!” You exclaimed far too excitedly, which you tried to mask with a cough but it turned out to just be even more awkward than him running his fingers through his perfect hair an excessive amount of times.

“Yeah... Um so, don’t get weirded out but..” He started, and the fact that you’re you and you constantly have your foot in your mouth, you added the smart ass comment of;

“It’s hard not to get weirded out when someone says ‘don’t get weirded out’“ And you thought the gates of heaven opened up when you heard him laugh. A heavenly sound, actually, hearing that beautiful man laugh an even more beautiful laugh because of something that you had said.

“Yeah, it isn’t too weird, I’ve just really wanted to meet you for a while, your song is great, really.” He reached out and touched your arm, and not to be gross and cheesey, but you swear you felt electricity sparks running up and down your arm as his strong hands touched you.

“Oh um.” You squeaked out, instantly clearing your throat afterwards. “I’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time I um.. I’ve loved your music for like, forever.” You heard the elevator come up, and he gestured for you to walk in first. You scurried into the elevator, feeling the heat of Shawn’s body as he walked in just moments after you.

“We have a little bit before the rehearsal starts, they said to get there early for breakfast.” He stated, to which you nodded in respond.

“As it said in the email.” You shot back, wanting to shoot yourself right in the leg for being such an utter asshat. Shawn Mendes was speaking to you, Shawn Mendes was acknowledging the fact that you existed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t being clear,” He started and your heart skipped a beat. This was it, this was when Shawn Mendes roasted your ass. “I was trying to ask you if you wanted to go out to breakfast or something. Like, we don’t have to eat the food there and-” You cut him off after a bit, already knowing damn well your answer.

“Yes, of course. There’s that like, diner style place right next door. Elliot and I have gone there almost every night, it’s so cute, I love the diner feel in kinda a big city yanno?” You shrugged, literally shaking with the fact that you were about to go get food with Shawn fucking Mendes.

“Yes sounds good. Is Elliot your....?” He asked, and you swore he sounded just a little bit nervous.

“Gay best friend who wrote the music to my lyrics? Yes, yes he is.” You answered in your usual smart ass manner that you had no idea how it hadn’t sent him running for the hills.

“Oh thank god.” He sighed, as the elevator door opened up to the lobby, and you saw all of the fucking paparazzi outside of the hotel, worried as hell they would catch a photo of you and Shawn walking out and there would be some tabloid, which you wouldn’t mind, but you were sure he would. “It would be awkward if you had a boyfriend, considering the fact I just asked you out on a date.”

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t hate the tabloids.

“Hm. Yeah I guess you’re right.” You highlighted, taking a small step out of the elevator, holding out your hand for him to take. “Ya ready?” You almost expected him to take it for a moment and drop it in front of all of the cameras, or even politely decline. But what he did was take your small hand in his and lace his fingers with yours and those sparks came right back. You took elongated steps out into the lobby and quickly out of the front door, your hands still tangled together. You heard the shouts of the small crowd of paparazzi asking questions along the lines of

“Are you dating?”

“When did this happen?”

“Were you sleeping together?”

You didn’t care to listen, so you probably got half of the wording on those questions completely incorrect. You both kept your eye line down, knowing the drill. Shawn shot them a few waves, which was more than you did or planned to do. You only walked for a few minutes, quickly walking into the diner style restaurant that really wasn’t quite a diner but was close enough.

Your hands dropped to your sides as Shawn placed his hand on the small of your back leading you to one of the tables closer to the back, so the paparazzi couldn’t get any good shots from outside. You slid into one side of the booth, whilst Shawn took a seat on the side across from you, folding his hands over one another, shooting you a killer smile with his cheeks blushing. He was just so dang cute.

You couldn’t wait to tell Elliot that you had not only flirted (very poorly) with Shawn Mendes but you were also on a fucking date with Shawn Mendes.

And you kinda had a feeling it was gonna go well.

(sorry this sucked kill me)

author’s note// if ur reading this will amsbaugh pls burn and i hope you fail on level american lit and i hope you never get a lead part in ANY of your shows and JUST a psa, YOU PUT APOSTROPHES IN CONTRACTIONS! it is HAVEN’T not HAVENET and it is DIDN’T not DIDENT. that was ALSO directed at will, the apostrophe thing. also take a shot everytime i say “shawn mendes”

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mildlymaddy · 6 years

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Yearly (Belated) Review

Alright, there it is. My answers to the Yearly Review meme. Honestly I found this SO HARD. Not only was it hard to find positive things to say about my writing, but also I don’t remember anything of what I wrote last year? It’s hard to answer these questions if you don’t even remember any detail about your own fics.

It’s really weird because I take so much pride in my actual job, like I know I’m good at it, I know exactly what I’m good at, I could answer all the questions in the world about it. I also think that I’m a really good beta reader, like I’ve never found anybody else like me? Someone who will actually nag at you and go deep and force you to rework stuff and get even better. All of this, I can easily see and appreciate. But my personal writing? UGH. Nothing to keep, throw it all away please.

Writing this was really painful for me, when it seems to have been so much fun for everyone else (as it should be, because y’all are so fucking talented and I’m glad you realize it)... but you know what, soldiering through actually helped me take a step back and force myself to see what was good about my writing. I’m incredibly grateful for it.

1. List of works published this year:

This one at least is easy, you can find the list here.

Except that I forgot my original ficlet I wrote, a soft lesbian summer haze story inspired by some Danielle Campbell photos! It’s there and I think only two people in the world have read it but I really like it.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Hahahahahahahahaha…. hahahaha… haaaa.

Sorry.

Um.

I guess, maybe, the Lilo Brits verse? Because it’s like, one of the more “serious”, angsty things I’ve written (and La helped me make it good).

I guess it’s pretty clear I have a real big problem about thinking “happy” fic is meaningless, which is kind of a downer considering it’s almost all I write (and probably what I’m best at).

Oh, okay, I’ve just re-read that ghost!Liam lirry fic and it’s surprisingly nice. I guess I like the way it’s a total crackfic and yet it’s very tender and bittersweet. I can grant myself that. :)

And now that I’ve found back that Danielle fic I linked to above, I can honestly say that I’m super proud of it. I’m proud of how soft it is, and how tentative, and I just… I really like how poetic it is? The words came out exactly as I wanted them to. I really love it.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Most of them? Like, they’re okay, but most could have been infinitely better if I’d just forgotten about them for a bit and come back to them with fresh eyes, instead of posting them straight away. There’s stuff that people loved that I’m re-reading today and I literally cringe thinking of how much better they could/should have been.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I couldn’t say. Like, it’s not just that I’m super harsh on my writing, but how am I supposed to remember everything I wrote?? The way you guys all managed to answer this one is what baffled me the most, because I legitimately cannot do it. I’d have to re-read everything I posted (and even then I probably wouldn’t like anything enough to think it’s worth quoting here).

But one thing I can say is that I have a huge soft spot for my Lilo fairy verse. It’s not the most amazing thing in the land but I think Louis as a fairy works really, really well, and it’s just silly and happy and I’m glad I wrote it. :)

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

This one is surprisingly hard to answer! I mean, obviously, @catateme9 is the most supporting reader and friend anyone could wish for, by far. The way you boost authors you like is heartwarming, and shows that you don’t need to actually put out material to be a vital part of the fandom. <3

I’m also just really grateful when people yell at me in their reblog tags, which happens often, it’s probably the most satisfactory feedback anyone can get.

I’m sorry, I feel bad for not being able to recall a really good one, I just… any kind of feedback makes my day. I cherish each and every comment/tag/message I get about my fics, so it’s just impossible to pick one.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Honestly ask me for a time when writing was easy, it’ll be easier to pinpoint. Writing is torture, all the fucking time. But some of the random ficlets I wrote in bed were wonderful gifts, sudden unexpected inspiration that I managed to see through in one sitting.

But writing has been especially hard for the past couple months, I have to say. I used to constantly daydream about my plots and now there’s only static in my brain.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I guess all the het fic I wrote. I’ve always written exclusively slash, even back in my HP days (the only Hermione/Ron fic I can remember writing was PG, I couldn’t stomach the idea of writing a sex scene). I think because for a long time I wanted to get as far away from heterosexuality as I could. I guess me writing all those elounor, or elounorexha, or louelle fics shows my own real life path towards accepting I’m bi and that there’s nothing wrong with “het” sex.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I don’t think I grew at all. Queen of stagnation, that’s me. 😞

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I… don’t know? Maybe just… learn to give myself more credit? Be as kind to myself as I am to other writers? Oh and also if I could stop comparing myself to all of you and feeling terrible because I’ll never be half as talented, that’d be nice.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@ferryboatpeak will never not be wonderful. She uses both the carrot and the stick to keep me on track (or tries to, at least), and she’s also sent me some DELIGHTFUL things to beta, for which I’m always so grateful because honestly, reading her stuff and then seeing her turn my suggestions into gold is a fucking privilege.

To be fair, I have a lot of incredibly talented writers as friends. You’re all inspirations in some way, but I’ll mention 3 writers that have really stood out for me this year (please don’t get offended if you’re not in the list you KNOW how much I admire and love all of you, omg, so much!!)

@queerlyalex the sheer range of what you write, and the softness with which you tackle tricky subjects, is absolutely incredible. Your fics aren’t only perfectly written, they’re also so enlightening, and eye-opening, and as someone who was very very clueless before I joined Tumblr, they’ve been a wonderful, soft way of truly realizing there is so much more than what I’ve experienced, and getting my head around some stuff. I feel so incredibly grateful to be your friend.

@polaroidgirlfriend, I’m sorry I haven’t yet read your fionrry, but I still think about your university Narry fic all the time. I’m still floored by how perfect and honest it was, you have a way of… of getting at hidden, unspoken human emotions that is so gentle and yet so uncompromising, it’s a testament to your beautiful soul.

@1000-directions, your love for the boys’ girlfriends (and friends, like Bebe) is the most heartwarming thing ever, and I’m so happy you’re constantly putting out these empowering, woman-positive slices of life out into the fandom world. We need more people like you here. I also love what you said about learning to write for yourself and not caring about how niche something is, that is something I could dearly do with.

I think it’s telling that the three people I’ve picked out have that one thing in common, your way of gently dissecting relationships to get to the heart of them, unflinchingly uncovering the good and the bad bits. You somehow all manage to depict love as a bloody beating heart, both beautiful and terrible, soft and ragged, full of hope and despair, and I just… love this so much about you. There’s a line in one of my fics (that sounds so pretentious omg) which goes “so she’ll stop cutting his heart open as softly as if it was a peach”, and that just really sums it up. I only wrote that one sentence, but y’all actually do it in every one of your fics, and I’m just... in total awe of you. ♥♥♥

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Pretty much everything I write is about me. I get sick? I’ll write some sickfic. I’m super tired? Louis can’t seem to get any sleep. Little gestures I love end up in my stories. Things I crave end up in my stories. Often I’m embarrassed about just how much my stories are a reflection of myself, to be honest. I’m an open book.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I’ll share wisdom from my actual job : do not cling to your ideas. It doesn’t matter how cute/sexy/well written that paragraph is, or how brilliant that idea is, if it doesn’t fit with the rest of the story or if it’s blocking you up, GET RID OF IT. Seriously. Being able to just delete chunks of your own writing when you realize it’s not serving your story will save you a lot of pain and time.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Any of my WIPs, god, please. I started so many things and they fell through the wayside and I feel so guilty and gutted about it.

The most important thing of all would be finishing Take These Chances, because I still get comments on it from time to time and I’ve dropped it just before Louis and Liam finally realized they were in love and it’s just… it’s terrible. I want to finish it, I just don’t know how to make myself do it.

But I also have that summer heat nouis fic, puppy/kitten lilo, the lilourry mermaid thing, lilo new year’s kiss, another lilo fic about kisses in which liam must kiss louis every hour to make up for waking him up early, the nouis watching Stranger Things, a new installment of caldell highschool au, that hendes fic, a steamy Elouelle ficlet, the follow-up to the sleep-deprived Louis fic… all of these are half-written or more, they just need a little more work, but I can’t. seem. to do it!

If anyone’s got idea on how to motivate me through this, I’m ready to hear them.

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read.

I don’t need to tag anyone, you’ve all done it already (and they were a joy to read). ^_^

#about me #year in review #memes #on writing #this was so hard but ultimately rewarding #i'm glad i pushed through #even though it's ridiculous just how HARD it was #when y'all made it look so easy #squad #talented people #queerlyalex #ferryboatpeak #polaroidgirlfriend #catateme9 #1000-directions #my post

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sunnysidewrites · 7 years

Text

Zombie Apocalypse Survivor!Hwiyoung

i feel very proud of the outcome of this scenario! I wrote this for my friend who will remain anonymous but you know who you are :))) i love writing in this style it’s my personal writing style that I am very proud of and I like how it distinguishes me from other writers. please take the time to read this and pretend it’s your bias if you have another preference other than hwiyoung. please please reblog and get your friends to read this i hold this scenario close to me even though hwi is not my bias it’s that special!!! remember that requests are open but read faq & rules first!!! happy reading from your favorite mom!! ITS GONNA BE A WILD RIDE!!! i would greatly appreciate any feedback!!!

warnings: includes a lot of fluff + angst incorporated together, angst part will rip out your heart and stomp on it to pieces, fluff will try to mend those pieces together, you might cry -- i certainly felt emotional while writing that part :’))

The whole country has been affected by zombies

It only started with one or two in a couple of states

Hours later it spread to the coast

Next thing you know it has reached your town

Almost everyone has been infected and you’re one of the lucky few who still have your humanity

And sanity

You and the other survivors have been in a hideout for weeks and you’re not sure how long it’s gonna last

Your crew went from 50 people to 20 people in a matter of 2 days

Now it’s down to 10

It’s been a rough month since all your family is gone as far as you know in just the blink of an eye

You’ve gotten super close with your now population of 10

You’re the one who gets to fetch food along with Hwiyoung, a fellow survivor

Prob one of the most dangerous tasks y’all have to do but everyone picked you two bc you’re the strongest and most capable

Hwiyoung is pretty soft but his aim of a gun is no joke and he can shield you while you quickly get the necessities

Not to mention he looks hAWT shooting the zombies but anyways

And i also don’t know how you kill off zombies but just roll with it

Imagine hwi with a gun!! a gUN THIS BABY WITH A GUN

Side note: I also imagine him in a headband or like a tied bandana

He wears some black ripped jeans with black combat boots

When going out he wears a v neck sweater with a black motorcycle jACKET YAS

But when he’s inside the hideout he either wears a fitted thermal shirt holy jesus or he is wearing a muSCLE TEE OH MYGODGHLDG ARE THE ZOMBIES KILLING US OR IS HWIYOUNG

Everyone is always terrified you both won’t make it alive but you always manage to bc you’re boss af

You both grow super close since you have to go on those dangerous missions every day

You know he tries to act tough despite the situation but he’s just as terrified as you

“I can protect you y/n”

“You cried when i ate your cookie”

“They’re running low!! :(((“

But you know underneath his joking exterior he’s trembling with fear

The fear of losing you, losing everything he’s ever known in just this month

But you guys treat each other with a lot of care and even more so since you don’t know what would happen to the other in just a minute

Lots of insults and jokes but only bc it’s the only way to lighten up the heavy atmosphere even if only temporarily

You actually have developed super strong feelings for him in such a short amount of time i mean who wouldn’t when he’s literally all you talk to

But you can’t afford to pursue anything in the midst of this

Hwiyoung also began to take a liking to you and is a Flustered Mess™ around you

There’s an unspoken pledge between you that you will not ever leave each other no matter what

His family has also left without a trace and that’s another reason why you were able to bond with him so quickly

You heavily lean on your small circle for support, especially between the both of you

He’s always looking out for you

When you sleep, he brings you a blanket and puts your head on his arm since there aren’t any pillows :’))

He always double checks your weapons to see if you have enough

“You have enough ammo right???”

“yOU JUST CHECKED MY SUPPLY LIKE 5 TIMES”

“YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO CAREFUL Y/N”

A lovestruck look on his face every time you’re not glancing his way

He always says a silent prayer before he sleeps to thank the heavens he is alive and you’re alive with him and that he was able to meet you even though it had to be under these circumstances

There have been some scary close calls

One day the zombies advance on you when you’re coming back from getting food

Like i’m not talking about you escaping from them i’m talking about thEY HAVE REACHED YOUR HIDEOUT AND YOU AND HWI ARE THE ONLY ONES IN SIGHT

“hWIYOUNG WATCH OUT!!!!” you scream as you’re trying to fend off the zombies

Both of his hands are occupied with guns and the only sound in the air is the ringing of gunshots

He manages to stall for just enough time for the both of you to escape

You enter a deserted building while being careful to stay in the shadows

Once you’ve scouted the place thoroughly you and hwi huddle in a corner and start talking about your game plan

Ok so by now just pause reading and play a really sad ost song just do it

Do it

Play that sad song

Maybe with rain in the background

Maybe “still loving you” by sophia pae or secret garden’s ost bgm “guardian angel” or “tear stains” by oscar

Ok let’s continue

“Look y/n I don’t want you to be put in danger so what I’m about to say is only for your safety”

You do not like the sound of those words

“You’re gonna leave”

Hold on boi “what????”

“You heard me. You’re gonna escape from this place and not turn back. The state next to us is still in good shape compared to ours and you still have the west coast that’s barely infected. I have family in California, and they should be fine right now, hopefully anyway. They’re nice, so don’t worry about them. I’m sure they’ll accept you–”

“HWIYOUNG I’M NOT LEAVING YOU IF ANYTHING YOU SHOULD GO SINCE THEY’RE YOUR FAMILY and we can’t!!!! We can’t leave each other when we promised not to” tears start welling up in your eyes and your voice cracks you can’t even look him in the eyes anymore by the time your sentence ends

“Hwiyoung, you’re the only thing I have. You really expect me to leave you like our families did?”

Here come the waterworks

“Look y/n we’re running out of time” he quickly steals a glance outside of a window and sees them advancing super rapidly

You’re interrupted when there’s a loud bang on the closed door

He quietly curses and grabs your shoulders firmly

“y/n,,,,, I didn’t want to confess like this and this is probably the worst time ever to do it but I,,, have to let you know now” he’s running on adrenaline this would never happen in normal situations but when you’re on the brink of death this doesn’t really matter

“I’m really glad that we were able to meet and bond it’s been truly a wild ride with you and i’m really gonna miss you snoring loudly and making my arm numb and,,,, what I’m trying to say is that,,,, I’m in love with you” his cheeks flush a light pink and this would be pretty romantic if you didn’t hear the groans outside

His lips press on yours and it’s a very bittersweet taste with your tears mixed in the kiss

You look at him with tears continuously rolling down your cheeks

The moment you say “i love you too” bAM THE DOOR BREAKS OPEN AND YOU’RE ABOUT TO BE SURROUNDED BY ZOMBIES

WHEN HWI PULLS OUT HIS GUNS THE RINGING OF GUNSHOTS FILL YOUR EARS AGAIN

“Y/N!!! GO OUT THE WINDOW IT’S NOW OR NEVER”

“I’M NOT GONNA FREAKING LEAVE YOU BEHIND WTF HWIYOUNG”

He pauses shooting for a split second to give you the most resolute and melancholic look ever and hastily gives you a forehead kiss that lasts for just as long

Since his arms are holding the guns, he uses his body to shove you out the window and thank god the height is not that high

“hWIYOUNG NO!!!”

“RUN Y/N!!!! DON’T LOOK BACK” you can hear him from above as he sounds like he’s struggling

Zombies outside have noticed you and you’re just like oHHohhoH this IS NOT GOOD

You scramble to your feet and run down a few blocks when you suddenly don’t hear gunshots anymore

“Don’t look back” his words echo in your ears

But you can’t help yourself and throw your head back to see the zombies mainly where the building is

You tear your eyes away and try to stifle a cry and tears blur your vision

Miraculously you’re able to fend off the zombies and pick up some last minute food on the way

You even managed to scoop up an abandoned car with sufficient gas

And you blast tf out of there

Your new destination is California and it takes you a week and a half to get there

You remember him mentioning his family in California and he once said they were in San Francisco but how tf are you gonna know where

You walk to a police station and just hope to god they understand

They’re a lil reluctant to hear you out and kick you out bc they have “better things to worry about” well jeez ok thx

You just aimlessly roam around the area and you stop by a beach

And you just SCREAM

You literally scream and bawl to make up for the time you couldn’t in the middle of your escape

“HWIYOUNG DIDN’T DESERVE THIS”

A few minutes later you’re approached by someone and you’re like um can i help you

“Did you… just say Hwiyoung?”

You’re just

:O no way

“Are you a family member by chance?”

He shakes his head however he is a family friend and he can connect you with his family!!!! And he even shares you a family photo as proof bc i mean you have every right to doubt him and further proves himself when he facetimes Hwiyoung’s aunt and uncle

You soon meet up with his family and burst into tears again from their hospitality and the thought of Hwiyoung haunts you and spill the entire story about how your family left and hwiyoung’s family left and he forced you to leave him

Several weeks pass and you’re slowly transitioning into this new life

It still pains you every time you think about hwiyoung or anything you associate him with

One day you get a text from hwi’s aunt “can you pick up some flowers for me?? And dress a little nice too ;) meet me at the local cafe”

Wtf why would you wanna dress nice at a cafe

But you think there’s a good reason so you just follow her orders and meet her there

She begins walking along the street and talking to you so you’re distracted by whatever you’re talking about and you eventually end up at the nearest hospital

You’re just like the????? Why are we here

She stops in front of a room and you’re still really lost like

“So are you gonna go in or are we just gonna stand out here”

She laughs looking amused “I should be asking you that. I’ll be waiting out here” and she gestures to the chair outside

You’re just like ????? um ok

You can’t help but feel a little anxious as you quietly slide open the door

You turn around and start closing it when someone’s all-too-familiar voice fills the room

“I see you didn’t look back”

#my post #sf9 #sf9 hwiyoung #hwiyoung #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 headcanons #sf9 au #hwiyoung imagines #hwiyoung scenarios #hwiyoung headcanons #hwiyoung au #zombie apocolypse au #zombie apocalypse survivor!hwiyoung

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redthreadoffate · 4 years

Text

about pepper

warnings: some swearing, ending MAY seem a bit rushed but for me it kinda worked; edited twice so there are some mistakes here and there (but hopefully none)

notes: this was made for @properlycolorful because she deserves it after all her hard work, also i love her and i wanted to give her a little something

notes 2: i’ve been working on this since september or october 2018 but i finally just finished it due to writer’s block (i wanted the ending to be perfect–which idk if i achieved) and i was training to become a virtual assistant

notes 3: i honestly don’t know if it’s any good but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, but what really matters is the opinion of who i wrote it for (psst, you know who you are); sorry it isn’t as long as it should be after all these months

summary: when roger takes it upon himself to teach his nephew-in-law, ben, to play the guitar, he finds himself falling in love with his next-door neighbor, pepper, and coming to terms with his ongoing struggle for happiness and intimacy, including how he failed his ex-fiance, georgia. (see the fake film meme here)

“You said you loved–no, love me.”

One note.

“You said you’d never leave.”

Two notes.

“You’re a liar, Roger.”

Another.

She was calm. Too calm. If you didn’t notice how her voice dripped with venom, she showed no signs of anger, no signs of weakness, no signs of betrayal, not even a teardrop of lost hope. “I hate you.” She took off the ring from her finger and threw it on the ground, the first and only sign of wrath as she went out the door and closed it gently.

“Uncle Roger?”

No response.

“Uncle Roger?”

He continued to think of what was wrong with him. Why he had suddenly stopped loving her. He had no qualms about Georgia. She was amazing. Definitely the girl of his dreams. Funny, smart, loyal, beautiful, and most importantly, she loved him. But why? Why did he do that? What was wrong with him?

“Uncle Roger.”

Roger snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his nephew-in-law Ben. He was looking at him with a flat face, just like always. “Great job, Ben. Great job.”

“I’ve only done about five notes.”

Roger looked down at Ben’s blue guitar. His fingers were still at standstill by the strings.

Roger had been teaching Ben how to play the guitar for about a few weeks now every weekend. His brother-in-law’s nephew had a knack for music, singing, piano, even the saxophone, and he’d been wanting to learn the guitar instrument for awhile. When Roger volunteered, Ben jumped at the chance, however, they never really got along. It’s not that they argued, they never did, but Roger always seemed so distant lately and Ben was just a serious kind of kid, it didn’t make a very good match. Nevertheless, Ben was learning and that was good enough for both of them.

“Sorry, Ben, I was just a little…”

“Distracted?”

The older man sighed. “Yeah. I know, I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself lately these past few weeks and I apologize.”

Ben shrugged. “It’s fine. Maybe we should take a break.”

“Sounds good. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Some iced tea would be good.”

“You got it.”

Roger stood up from his couch and headed to the kitchen. He got a can of beer and a pitcher of iced tea from his fridge. Pouring the contents of the pitcher in a glass, he decided he would want one for himself as well. It was a hot day and drinking beer wouldn’t do very much for the heat.

He had no plans on leaving the kitchen yet, though. He saw his neighbor Pepper out in her front yard, a white sundress and a beach hat on the top of her head. She was cleaning the fallen leaves with a determined look on her face.

Roger’s kitchen window could clearly see the home of Pepper. And he wouldn’t care to admit that he liked seeing his neighbor around. They were good friends, always bringing food to each other’s houses and telling stories whenever they pass by each other outside. It was a good relationship and maybe, just maybe, Roger wanted a bit more than that.

But he knew he couldn’t. Not after everything that happened between him and Georgia. Hell, he didn’t even know what happened between him and Georgia. It didn’t fall apart, it definitely was the same. But Roger knew that he had changed, one way or another it was his fault that they didn’t work out.

That was what had been distracting him these past few weeks.

He attended a party of a friend. He was drinking, chatting and overall having a merry time. But he saw Georgia. She was talking to a gentleman that he hadn’t seen before. Of course, Georgia would be here, the host was a mutual friend of theirs and although he was disappointed to know that their engagement was off, he still found them to be his good friends.

Michael, the host, went over to Roger and whispered, “You know what to do.”

But did he? Did he really know what to do?

“I suppose so,” he whispered back.

He surfed through the crowd until he found himself behind the gentleman. Georgia noticed him and excused herself from her companion. She went over to him and they kissed each other’s cheeks. Roger couldn’t help but think that her cheeks were soft and smooth.

“Georgia.” He gave her a curt nod.

“Hello, Roger,” she greeted. “What brings you here to me?”

It would be their first time talking to each other since the day he broke up with her about half a year ago. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. How he wanted to take back what had happened. How he wanted her back. But he couldn’t. Not in front of all these people. And because he wasn’t entirely sure if what he wanted was because he was seeing the love of his life or if it’s the truth.

“I wanted to ask you how you are.”

“In what terms?”

“Life, in general. How’ve you been?”

Georgia shrugged but there was a small smile on her face. “I’ve been here and there.”

“That’s not really the answer I was looking for.”

“And you’re not really the person I want to talk to about my life.”

There it was. She was still not holding things well. He doesn’t blame her. They were each other’s everything. Breaking off the marriage a week before the wedding wasn’t exactly the best thing to do to someone who loves you and whom you love back. It just isn’t.

“I’ve been okay,” Roger said lamely. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t bring himself to apologize without making a scene. “Thought you might want to know.” He rubbed the back of the neck.

Georgia scoffed. “That’s great to know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another drink. Want one?”

“Uh…yeah, sure.”

She did get him a drink but left as soon as she handed it to him. Roger drank it in one gulp. “Damn you, Roger.”

And so here he was, staring out the kitchen window looking at his next-door neighbor without her even noticing. He had flirted with her a few times, and she him, but nothing seemed to have come out of it. They’ve gone out to dinner once but it was all just a friendly date for both of them.

“Uncle Roger, you’re staring again.”

Roger licked hips lips and headed out the kitchen with Ben in tow. “Sorry, Ben. Here’s your drink.”

Ben took the glass and sipped. “Uncle Roger, why don’t you talk to Ms. Pepper about how you feel?”

“What makes you say that I have feelings for her?”

“The way you look at her. And I think she’s the reason why you’re always so distracted.”

Roger pursed his lips. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo.” He rustled the younger boy’s hair.

“I’m turning twenty-four.” Ben flattened his hair. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You know, that’s what kids always say. And I’m forty, get over it, kiddo.”

It wasn’t long before Ben had to leave. His apartment wasn’t too far but it was getting a bit late.

They weren’t practicing the guitar for the rest of the evening, though; Ben thought it’d be pointless if his Uncle Roger would just be so distracted. So he proposed they talk about relationships.

Ben wasn’t afraid to admit his colorful relationship background. He fancied both men and women. Roger listened to the problems, resolutions and the happy and sad endings of Ben’s stories.

Meanwhile, he talked about his other relationships, how they always failed and he would opt for being with women for a night and leaving them the next day. He couldn’t talk about Georgia, not now at least. So his last topic was Pepper. He told him what they have done since she moved in around the same time he left Georgia.

“You should totally ask her out on a date, Uncle Roger,” Ben suggested. “You’re so into her.”

“Is it that obvious?” he chuckled. He thought about her a lot but he couldn’t say he was so into her. Maybe not yet. “You think I should?”

“Yeah. Why not? Ask her out to dinner tomorrow evening if she doesn’t have plans. I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“I guess there’s no harm.” Roger shrugged. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

And as soon as Ben left, Roger dialed Pepper’s number on his phone. He was nervous, he could feel his heart beating fast, his palms getting sweaty. Finally, she picked it up and he greeted her. “Pepper, hey.”

“Hi, Roger! Anything the matter?”

“No, no. Nothing. Um…I was just wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow, you know, like a date? If you’re not busy or anything.”

Silence.

“Pepper?”

“Sure, Roger! That would be great. It’s a Sunday tomorrow, isn’t it? I just have some errands to do but I’ll be done before dinner. Where and what time?”

Roger decided on a restaurant he had wanted to try downtown. “We can go together, of course. We can use my car.”

“That’d be lovely,” Pepper said. “Okay, thanks for inviting me, Roger. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Definitely.” When they dropped the call, Roger couldn’t help but let a grin crawl to his face. “You’re the man, Roger.”

Quickly, he went up to his room to choose an outfit for the date. He was a very particular man and he liked knowing what would look best on him on occasions like these. Sure, he’s had his fair share of dates but he liked Pepper a lot more than he thought he did and so he wanted to look as good as possible.

Finally, he chose a blue dress shirt and a pair of brown slacks. He looked good in this one, and he had a feeling Pepper would like it, too. He remembered that she mentioned once that blue was her favorite color.

He had not noticed that the dress shirt he chose was the same as the one he had worn when he proposed to Georgia.

The next day was an exciting one for Roger. He had reserved a table for two in the restaurant they were going to eat in, ironed his clothes, shined his shoes, put gas in his car, and took care of himself as he showered for the night ahead of him. He was all ready to go by the time it reached 6:15PM, just fifteen minutes before their meeting time.

He was checking his watch every minute, muttering how time was so slow. He didn’t want to arrive too early but he did want to arrive on time. So finally, at 6:29PM, he grabbed his car keys, headed out the door and locked the house.

He crossed the street and rang the bell of Pepper’s house. In a few seconds, she opened the door and smiled when she saw him. Her red dress was conservative but it looked good on her, she pulled it off.

“Roger, come in.” She opened the door wider and gestured for him to enter. “I just need to finish putting on my lipstick and we’re good to go.”

Roger thanked her and entered the house. He had been there a few times but always as a friend. He looked at the pictures on the wall as Pepper applied her make-up.

He’d never actually looked at the family photos she had around the house, but one picture caught his eye. It was a picture of her and another man. They were standing so close to one another, he had his arm around her shoulder and she had hers around his waist. A brother, perhaps?

But before he could ask, Pepper had called him and said she was ready.

He opened the door for her and once they were both out, Pepper locked the door. Roger led her to his car on the other side of the street. Again, he opened the passenger door and let her in. He jogged to the other side, got in and started the car.

The drive to the restaurant was awkward and silent. Roger tried his best to think of what to say but his mouth was dry. Pepper simply looked out the window and gazed at the sight.

Finally, they reached the restaurant. He gave the keys to the valet and they entered the restaurant together. When they were seated Pepper commented on how the place looked, it was beautiful and definitely expensive.

Roger chuckled. “But i heard the food is worth it. Let’s give it a shot, yeah?”

Pepper smiled and nodded.

When they were done ordering, Roger finally knew what to talk about. He asked her, “So, what made you decide to take up this date offer with me?”

Pepper shrugged. “I thought it’d be cute. We’ve known each other for awhile so why not? Let’s see how it goes.”

Roger nodded, those for some reason, he wasn’t very convinced with her answer.

They talked, laughed and shared heartfelt stories, stories they never really talked about before. Roger was having the time of his life that not once did he get distracted by the thought of Georgia. In fact, he kept his mind open and wondered if Pepper might be the one he was looking for all along.

The night ended.

Roger brought Pepper to her home and made sure that she went in safely, then he parked his car in his garage and entered his own home. It was quiet and lonely, much different from the atmosphere he had with his date.

“It’s reality,” he said with a sigh.

Pepper had told him that she would love to hang out the same way again, and Roger took that as an invitation, inviting her on another date sometime.

He was excited to tell Ben about his progress. The kid was right, there was nothing wrong with what he did, in fact, it probably changed his life.

Roger went to bed that night with a smile on his face. Later, he would have sweet dreams about him and Pepper.

But then he woke up sometime at around 2AM, sweat covered his body and he was having trouble breathing. He was having a good dream, one that made him happy. It was intimate. Not in a sexual way but more of a…romantic way, perhaps? And although he liked it, a part of him was scared that the dream would become a reality.

He brought his hands to his face. “Fuck,” he groaned.

He was starting to figure out what his problem was. What made him decide to break things off with a wonderful woman. But it was too late now, too late for that. And this time around, he’s gotten another chance. It will take time but he can make it. This time, he won’t screw things up with Pepper. No. Not like what he did with Georgia.

The week passed by so quickly that Roger didn’t expect to find himself face to face with Ben in his front porch with his blue guitar slung on his back.

“Uncle Roger?”

“Ben! I didn’t…I…is it Saturday already?”

“Last time I checked, yeah.”

Roger blinked a few times. He checked his watch and chuckled. “Come in, come in. Get yourself ready. I’ll get us something to drink.”

Ben did what he was told and made himself comfortable on Roger’s couch. He brought out his guitar and strummed mindlessly. Roger came back with two cans of soda.

“Fancy a diet coke?”

Ben made a face. “That’s got no flavor.”

“Just imagine that it’s regular coke but with less sugar.”

Ben took a sip. “It’ll do.” He placed the can back on the table and asked, “So how’d the date go, Uncle Roger?”

“It went great, Ben. It was kind of awkward in the car ride going but as soon as we arrived in the restaurant everything was perfect. We talked, we laughed, we shared stories and it was really just…we had a good time.”

Ben smiled. “That’s great, Uncle Roger. I told you things’ll work out. I knew it.”

“You sure did, kiddo.” He rustled his hair again. “You sure did. I should definitely take some more advice from you.”

“Speaking of advice, I wanted to ask someone out.”

Ben told his story. Roger gave him his take and Ben agreed to them, saying how neat it was. They would only end up practicing the guitar for about an hour. They had an even better time talking. Roger never expected this to happen. He knew this was too good to be true.

Later, when he was alone, Roger thought about all the people in his life. There were his parents, his sister, and now Ben and Pepper. He didn’t include Georgia, or more like, he didn’t want to include her. He would just get so upset. But in the end, he knew that she was the reason why he was more distant with others than he was before. He was scared. He was scared of what would happen if he got too close to people. He wanted to be happy, he wanted to be intimate with others. But something was holding him back. Something he didn’t want to even think about.

Failure.

He was a failure in almost everything. He was a failure with his family, his career, his relationships. He hasn’t forgiven himself for the past but he’d already tried to change for the better and it definitely paid off in some aspects, but he can’t escape who he was before. He can’t escape that he was a horrible person, not in a sense that he was a monster, but in a sense that he was a failure. He failed everyone and that made him a horrible person.

“Fuck.”

He allowed the tears to fall.

He didn’t want to reminisce about the things he had done, but he couldn’t help but wonder…what if things had been different? What if he hadn’t succumbed to peer pressure and hadn’t taken those “medications”? What if he didn’t bum around at his first job with great pay and benefits, would he have gotten one of the best positions there was there? What if he had forgiven himself, accepted who he was now, and not ruin the relationship he had with Georgia?

What if? Just a big what if…

The next few days were uneventful. He talked to Pepper from time to time but neither made a move to get closer to one another since their date. Roger wondered if he did anything wrong.

He had made sure to make things right with Pepper. He gave her the time and space he thought she needed to get her to tell him something, anything, about how she wanted the relationship to go. He didn’t want to force her to do anything so he stayed the same. Chatting with her, bringing her some food, flirting a bit here and there, but nothing had come out of it.

Saturday rolled in and Ben came for another lesson. This time, they really did practice the instrument as he made sure not to distract himself with Pepper. He was worried that things wouldn’t go well between them now that he knew what was the matter with him. He tried, he really tried.

Ben stopped playing. “Uncle Roger, are you okay?””

He smiled. “Was I too attentive this time?”

Ben let out a small smile. “You haven’t talked about Ms. Pepper today. Did something happen?”

Roger bit his bottom lip. “I think I may have done something wrong again, Ben.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave her the time and space I thought she would need to think about our relationship but she doesn’t seem to be wanting more. Maybe I just give off that vibe, you know?”

“What vibe, Uncle Roger?”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “No one else is ever going to know me. Before anyone can find out what’s wrong with me, I go the other way. I drop them completely as if they’ve never mattered. Because if I let anyone think of all the ways I’m horrible, I’d hate how they look at me.”

“…like they’re not happy with who you are anymore.” Ben nodded, almost understandingly.

“Yeah.”

There was a pause before the younger man asked, “Do you hate the way I look at you?”

“No. No, I don’t, Ben.”

Ben smiled. “Then maybe you’re getting there. Maybe you’re getting better than before. Maybe you’re not as horrible as you think you are.”

The words stayed with Roger for the whole week as he tried his best to get closer to Pepper. But there was something about her that just seemed so off. Something she wasn’t telling him. Maybe something she didn’t want to tell him.

Finally, he invited her out on another date. But his heart sank when she said, “A friendly date, Roger. Just a friendly date this time.”

And so he agreed, it was better than nothing.

The routine was the same, although they chose a different restaurant. Her outfit was more conservative than before. He had always known she was conservative but it made him wonder why.

Roger whistled. “Hot day, huh?”

“It sure was,” Pepper agreed. “Roger, I…” she paused. “No, I’ll tell you later. Let’s have some fun first.”

Roger was all for that. They told more stories, talked some more and laughed some more. Roger forgot all about what Pepper had wanted to say. A part of him believed that she was finally going to tell him what she thought about them. He had failed to notice that she said “…have some fun first.”

Finally, dinner was over and they were both picking at their dessert.

Roger took in a breath. “So what did you want to say to me earlier?”

Pepper looked down at her plate. “Roger, I’m having a great time with you. Our last date was wonderful and this isn’t so bad as well.”

“But…?” His stomach dropped.

“But…I….” she sighed. “The day after our date, my husband called me.”

Roger was shocked. “Husband? You have a husband?”

“We’re separated. But he called me and said he wanted to work things out. I love him, Roger. And I’ve always wanted things to work out between us. You are a wonderful man. I honestly was putting you in the picture when I was deciding but…I love William more than I could ever imagine. I’m sorry.”

He was finally doing things right. Or at least, what he thought was right. But then this bomb drops on him and he couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

“I didn’t lie to you, Roger,” Pepper said as if reading his thoughts. “We were separated, on our way to a divorce. I had the right to go out with anyone I wanted.”

“You couldn’t have told me that you were married?”

Pepper nodded. “Okay, I take fault in that.”

Roger shook his head. “So you’re heading back to where you came from?”

“I’ll stay a few more months just to make sure that William and I…just in case we don’t work things out.”

“You’ll tell me when it doesn’t?”

Pepper smiled sadly. “I will. But I don’t think I can go out with you again, Roger. We can still be friends but nothing more can happen between us.”

“Why’s that?” Roger asked, hurt.

“You’re in love with someone else.”

Bewildered, Roger asked if she could repeat her statement.

“You’re in love with someone else.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I can see it in your eyes, Roger. There’s another woman out there. And she’s probably waiting for you, too.”

Roger bowed his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pepper.”

Pepper sighed and asked for the check.

Their car ride back home was even quieter and awkward. Roger waited for her to get inside before rounding to his own home. After parking and getting inside, he dragged himself up to his room and flopped on his bed.

No more Pepper, he thought. No more Pepper.

When Ben came in the next time, he couldn’t even bother to greet him. Ben knew he shouldn’t even speak. But after two hours of silence, he decided it was time to ask.

“Uncle Roger…?”

“She was married, Ben.”

“What?”

“She was separated but her husband said he wanted to sort things out, and she loves him so she’s willing to try.”

“She played you.”

“No.” Roger shook his head. “No, not at all.”

Ben didn’t push anymore. He went into the kitchen got one beer each for both of them.

“Are you even legal?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “I’m turning twenty-four.”

Months later, Roger was fine. He was good. He was okay.

Ben had become a pro and didn’t need to practice with him anymore, but he would come by a few times a month just to hang. They had a bond now.

But something was empty inside Roger.

He tried different dating apps and even asked his friends to hook him up with someone.

He had already made amends with his family, his career is taking off, but something was missing. He knew it was a relationship but he just couldn’t pinpoint which girl he needed in his life. It was annoying the hell out of him.

One day, Ben came around and they talked. Roger opened up about his problem but not even the younger man can help him.

“Uncle Roger, I don’t know what you’re going through. You’re forty, man, and I’m only twenty-four!” This earned him a glare from Roger. “But you’ve tried everything you could do. Maybe you just have to wait.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

Ben shrugged. “I waited until I was nineteen to get drunk. It’s a win-win situation.”

Roger rolled his eyes. Then his thoughts wandered to Georgia. He wondered how she was doing. “Ben, do you mind if I make a call?”

“Sure. I’ll just be here.”

Roger left for the kitchen and dialed his friend Michael’s number. “Hey, Mike…about Georgia…”

He woke up the next day.

It was then he realized that it was Georgia. He had always loved Georgia. It was always Georgia. Georgia never left his heart.

He knew what he had to do. He jumped into his car and drove downtown to the apartment she was staying at. He rode the elevator and cursed whenever it stopped by a floor. When he finally reached her floor, he hurried to find her door. When he did he was out of breath but he still rang the bell.

When she opened the door, Georgia was surprised to see him. “Roger? What’s wrong?”

“Maybe we can start over?” Roger asked, his breath was heavy but hope-filled both his voice and his heart.

“What?”

“Start over. From the very top. If it’s okay with you?”

“From acquaintances to friends…?” Georgia trailed off, but there was a smile on her face.

“And maybe something more in the future?” Roger grinned.

Georgia laughed and shook her head. But then she looked at him, eye to eye. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Just promise me one thing.

“What’s that?”

“You have to believe me when I say I love you and I accept you and I trust you.” There was sincerity in her voice, something Roger knew she always had when they were together. He just always looked right past it.

“Deal.” Roger smiled then held up his hand. “Hi, I’m Roger. It’s very nice to meet you, Miss.”

Georgia followed, a grin on her face. “Hey. I’m Georgia. And I’m very delighted to meet you, Roger.”

#misc: cherish writes

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