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btsqualityy · 5 years

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BTS Toddler Series #32: Finding Out that You’re Pregnant Again

Author’s Note: So, this is it guys! It’s been a long 7 months of exploring the lives of the members, their wives, and their kids! I’m honestly crying as I type this, but this is the last part of the Toddler Series! Thank you all so much for reading and leaving likes, comments, and reblogs! And an even bigger thank you to all of the people who have EVER sent me an ask regarding these Toddlers and different aspects of their lives! Ya’ll honestly made me a better writer and I couldn’t be anymore grateful to you guys for indulging me and my little universe! After this, I will be doing another Pregnancy Series which should be getting started in mid-October. In the meantime, I’ll be focusing on Amour Vincit Omnia, some small drabbles of the couples and of the toddlers as teenagers, and writing and releasing some imagines that I’ve had outlined for forever lol. Again, thank you all so much and I hope you all enjoy this last part!

Kim Seokjin

“You really didn’t have to come with me Jin,” you said as you looked over at him as the two of you sat in one of the examination rooms that was in your doctor’s office.

“I know but I had the day off so what’s the harm?” He shrugged. “And besides, I’ve been worried about how sick you’ve been lately.”

“I know and I have no idea what it could be,” you told him. “I haven’t thrown up this much or felt this nauseous and gross in years.” Before Jin could reply, there was a knock on the door before it opened and your doctor walked inside.

“Hi Y/N, Seokjin,” he greeted you both with a smile.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Hi Doc,” Jin said.

“So, I know you came in because you’ve been feeling really sick so we ran a full panel on you and you tested negative for everything,” the doctor started.

“So you don’t know why I’ve been feeling so horrible?” You wondered.

“I wasn't finished,” he chuckled. “You came back negative for everything except one thing.”

“What is it?” Jin questioned.

“Congratulations Y/N, you’re pregnant,” he announced and your eyes immediately went wide.

“I-I’m pregnant?” You gasped, feeling the tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“Yeah, 6 weeks,” he confirmed with a nod before looking at you and Jin’s faces to gauge your reactions. “I’m assuming that this one wasn’t planned?”

“Absolutely not,” Jin laughed.

“Well, here’s your prenatal vitamins and some pamphlets on becoming a mommy again,” your doctor said as he handed you a bottle of pills and a few brochures. After telling you and Jin goodbye, he walked out of the room to give you and Jin some privacy.

“Can you believe it Jinnie? I’m pregnant again,” you squealed, making Jin smile as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“And we weren’t even actively trying this time,” he added with a smirk, making you roll your eyes playfully. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you more Jin,” you smiled, giggling when he puckered his lips out and you leaned forward to kiss them.

Min Yoongi

“Y/N-ah, I wish you’d stop being so fucking stubborn and let me take you to the hospital,” Yoongi groaned.

“Yoongs, it’s just a bad case of the flu,” you shrugged, immediately leaning over and vomiting into the small bucket that was next to your side of the bed.

“Y/N, you haven’t gotten out of bed in two days,” he deadpanned. “And it’s not the flu.”

“Then what is it, oh Master of Medicine?” You questioned as your rolled your eyes.

“You’re pregnant again.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Your period’s late, isn’t it?” He said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“That could be because I’m sick though.”

“Or because you’re pregnant.”

“Listen, just to shut you up, can you go get me a test?” You asked him and he nodded before grabbing his keys and wallet from the dresser. About 20 minutes later, he came back with a pregnancy test in hand.

“Help me up please?” You pleaded and he nodded before wrapping his arm around your waist and helping you out of bed. He helped you into the bathroom and handed you the test before walking back out to give you some privacy. You then opened the test and used it, setting it on the counter before wiping and flushing the toilet. You then hobbled over to the door, opening it and motioning for Yoongi to come in.

“How long did it say?” He wondered.

“One minute,” you replied as you went to the sink to wash your hands.

“Would you care if you are pregnant again?” He questioned as he looked over at you.

“You know I wouldn’t Yoongs,” you chuckled. “I’d actually be happy but I just don’t want you to have the satisfaction of being right.”

“Well, looks like that isn’t an option jagi,” he grinned as he picked up the test and held it out to you. You took it into your hands and gasped when you looked at the huge plus sign that was on the face of it.

“I really am pregnant again Yoongs,” you laughed as you looked up at him.

“We’re having another little Min,” Yoongi smiled as he walked over to you, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you passionately.

Kim Namjoon

“Ah, what the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you looked down at the two positive pregnancy tests in front of you. You hadn’t been feeling like yourself lately, similar to the way that you felt when you were pregnant with Mason, so you decided to take a pregnancy test just to be sure. However, you weren’t actually expecting the first test to turn up positive, and the second test only confirmed it.

“Mommy!” You heard Mason yell along with the sound of the front door opening and closing and you glanced back down at the pregnancy tests before walking out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

“Hey jagi,” Namjoon smiled as he helped Mason take his shoes and jacket off. “Someone had a really good day at school today.”

“Oh yeah?” You hummed, smiling as Mason came running over to you.

“Yeah and look, I got a gold star!” He exclaimed as he pointed to his shirt, where a gold sticker sat.

“Good job Myungie,” you praised, taking a second to bend down and kiss his cheek. “Why don’t you do me a favor and go play in your room for a little bit?”

“Ok,” he nodded, grabbing his backpack and heading up the stairs.

“You ok Y/N-ah?” Namjoon wondered as he walked over to you. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Uh, I think so but I have to tell you something,” you said. “Come here,” you told him, grabbing his hand and turning around to lead him up the stairs. Once you reached the top, you lead him to the bathroom where the two pregnancy tests were still sitting on the counter.

“Jagi, are these?” Namjoon mumbled before picking up one in each hand, his jaw slightly dropping when he saw the positive results.

“I’m pregnant Joon,” you confirmed. Namjoon immediately set the tests back onto the counter and walked over to you, holding your face in his hands.

“Are you ok with this?” He checked in and you smiled softly as you wrapped your hands around his wrists and laid your forehead against his chest.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded. “Scared though.”

“That’s understandable jagi. You’re gonna be great though,” he assured you and you lifted your head to look at him. “You’re such an amazing mom to Mase, our second baby is gonna be so lucky to have you.”

“And they’re gonna be lucky to have you too,” you said as you poked his side, making him smile and shake his head.

“You’ll be fine, ok?” He promised you and you nodded, choosing to just cast all your doubts aside and believe him. “I’m gonna be right here by your side the entire time.”

“I love you Joon, so much,” you whispered as you laid your forehead against his chest again.

“I love you too,” he smiled before leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

Jung Hoseok

“Y/N-ah!” Hobi called as he walked into the house, shutting the door behind him before walking off into the living room. You were sitting on the couch, laid back against the back of it with your eyes closed.

“Baby?” Hobi called as he walked over to you and you opened your eyes when you heard his voice again.

“Hey Hobi,” you said quietly as he sat down next to you on the couch. You immediately sat up so that he could wrap his arm around your shoulders before leaning against him.

“Hey, you ok?” He wondered.

“I’m fine.”

“Did everything go ok at the doctor’s?” He asked, knowing that today had been the day that you went to your doctor’s office to renew your birth control.

“I actually need to talk to you about that,” you said as you looked up at him. “So you know how when I go to renew my birth control, they have to give me a pregnancy test first in order to make sure that I’m not pregnant?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“And you remember how a few weeks back, when we were about to have sex and I told you that my shot was still good? Even though I had missed my original renewal date?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t able to get the birth control,” you summed up and Hobi’s eyes widened.

“You’re, you’re pregnant again jagi?” He whispered and you nodded. It was quiet for a few seconds before his eyes widened even more. “You said that your last shot was still in your system though.”

“Hobi, I almost never go and get my shot renewed on the day that I’m supposed to and it’s never affected it before!” You shot back. Hobi then shut his eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to start a fight with you.

“I’m sorry Y/N-ah,” he whispered as he pulled you closer to him and kissed the side of your head. “Are you ok with it?”

“Yeah, just worried,” you admitted honestly. “Us with three kids is gonna be a lot Hobi.”

“I know but hey, we’ve been doing pretty good at containing the chaos of two,” he pointed out with a small smile. “I don’t think one more is gonna make much difference.”

“I love you, you know that?” You mumbled, grateful to have a husband who always looked at the bright side of things.

“I love you more jagi,” he said and you leaned up, pressing your lips to his gently. “We got this Y/N-ah. I promise.”

Park Jimin

You were in the kitchen, bent over the counter as you pressed your forehead to the cool marble. Your head had been killing you all day long and it had gotten so bad that you had to take a second to make sure you didn’t pass out or something.

“Mommy?” Noah called as he walked into the kitchen and you immediately straightened up, not wanting him to know that you weren’t feeling that great.

“Yes baby?” You asked and he walked up to you, setting his hands on your thighs.

“Can I have animal crackers?” He requested and you smiled with a nod.

“Sure, why don’t you go sit up in your chair and I’ll bring them to you?” You told him and you smiled softly as you watched him do as you said. You then walked across the kitchen to one of the cabinets that hung on the wall and you opened it. When you reached up to grab the animal crackers however, you felt your vision go blurry and you swayed on your feet. The very last thing that you remembered was the feeling of your body hitting the ground before everything went completely black.

When you came to, you opened your eyes and realized that you were in a hospital bed. You looked over to your right, only to see Jimin holding your right hand with his left hand and scrolling through his phone with his right hand.

“Jimin-ssi?” You whispered and Jimin’s head popped up to look at you. Throwing his phone down onto the bed, he scooted towards the end of his chair so that he was closer to you.

“Hey Y/N-ah,” he said quietly. “How you feeling jagi?”

“Really groggy and my head still hurts,” you replied honestly. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Jimin explained and your eyes widened as you started to remember what had happened.

“Noah! Where’s Noah?” You demanded to know as you tried to sit up and Jimin got up out of his chair and set his hands on your shoulders, pushing you back into bed.

“Jagi, he’s fine, I promise,” Jimin swore. “When you fainted, he found your phone and called 911 and then he called me afterwards.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he actually did an amazing job. He refused to leave your side though, even after you guys got here to the hospital. I had to bribe him with cuddles just to get him to leave with the members,” Jimin explained with a chuckle.

“My sweet baby,” you smiled softly. “Have the doctors come and talk to you yet? Do you know why I fainted?”

“Y/N,” Jimin said as he sat down on the edge of your hospital bed, grabbing both of your hands in his as he looked at you. “You’re pregnant.”

“What?” You chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s why you fainted. Your hormones were trying to balance themselves out, just like-”

“When I got pregnant with Noah,” you finished and Jimin nodded. You let a rush of air out of your mouth as you let the news soak in. “We’re having another baby Jimin-ssi.”

“Yeah we are jagi,” Jimin grinned, leaning forward and kissing you softly.

Kim Taehyung

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You laughed as your eyes met Taehyung’s in the mirror. You had been trying to get ready to go out to lunch with the other members’ wives, but you had been catching Taehyung staring at you the entire time.

“I just, you look different,” he muttered and you turned around and walked over to the bed, sitting next to him.

“Different?” You hummed.

“Yeah. Like you’re, glowing,” he said and you rolled your eyes playfully

“So you’re still on this?” You asked him with a small smile. For the last week or so, Taehyung kept making small comments about how he thought you were pregnant again. You tried not to pay him attention, but when the start date of your period came and went without any sign of Aunt Flo four days ago, you actually had started to think that he may be right.

“I can’t help it Y/N-ah,” he whined childishly, making you laugh at him. “I just know your body and I can sense a difference.”

“Aw Tae,” you cooed, moving forward and kissing his pouting lips. “Would it make you feel better if I took a pregnancy test?”

“It really would,” he nodded enthusiastically, like a little kid.

“Where’s the pregnancy test then? I know you already have one,” you said and the small smirk on Tae’s face only confirmed it for you. Tae got out of the bed and you followed behind him as he walked into your shared bathroom. He bent down and opened the cabinet that was underneath the sink, reaching to the very back and pulling out a box with two pregnancy tests inside.

“Ok, get out,” you said and he pouted before walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. You then used the bathroom, using both of the tests before sitting them onto the counter. Once you were completely finished, you washed your hands before opening the door.

“One minute,” you told him before he could even ask you how long it would take for the results to show up on the tests.

“I know that I probably sound crazy jagi but I’m telling you, I just know,” Tae explained and you couldn’t help but to giggle at him.

“I actually need to tell you,-” you started to say but the timer that you’d set on your phone went off, making Tae jump and rush to grab the tests from the counter.

“Holy shit,” Tae gasped and you walked over to him, leaning over to get a look at the tests and your eyes widened at the large “PREGNANT” that was on the face of both of them.

“You were right Tae,” you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Hell yeah I was!” He exclaimed, taking a second to do a little dance in front of you, and you laughed at him. You decided that you’d tell him about your period having been late another time and let him have his celebration.

“Thank you Y/N-ah,” he said once he stopped dancing, coming back over to you and setting his hands on the sides of your neck.

“For what?”

“For giving me babies,” he told you and you smiled, setting your hands on the sides of his body.

“I didn’t make them by myself,” you pointed out with a laugh.

“But you’re doing all the heavy lifting so thank you,” he reiterated and you just responded by kissing him firmly.

Jeon Jungkook

“What the fuck are you so angry at me for?” Jungkook sighed in exasperation.

“Because you’re being an inconsiderate dickhead!” You shouted back.

“All I did was leave my clothes on the bathroom floor,” he replied.

“And you do it every fucking day! I shouldn’t have to clean up behind an adult.”

“Then leave it there and I’ll clean it when I get home!”

“Oh, as if you ever feel like cleaning when you get home,” you chuckled darkly. “We both know that I’m the one who does most of the cleaning.”

“Oh my gosh, are you mad at me for leaving the clothes on the floor or for not cleaning up around the house? Make up your fucking mind,” Jungkook snapped.

“Fuck off Jungkook,” you seethed, stomping towards the door of your bedroom to walk out but Jungkook reached out and grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Let go of me.”

“No, because obviously you have a problem that’s making you act like this,” he said softly. The sudden gentleness of his tone made you realize how irrational you were being and you couldn’t help the tears that began to suddenly well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry Kook,” you sighed and Jungkook just responded by pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you tightly.

“No no baby, it’s ok,” he whispered into your ear, hating to see you crying.

“I do have something that I need to tell you though,” you sniffled and Jungkook pulled back from the hug to look down at you. “I’m pregnant Kook.”

“You serious?” He wondered with wide eyes and you nodded while you reached up and wiped your face.

“Took a test while you were at the studio,” you replied.

“That’s why you bitched out at me?” He chuckled.

“You know how my emotions are when I’m pregnant,” you shrugged lamely.

“I should’ve known,” he muttered as he shook his head. “Are you happy?”

“It’s definitely unexpected but yeah,” you nodded. “Are you?”

“Of course Y/N-ah,” he smiled as he moved his hands from around you to set them on your cheeks. “We’re having another baby.”

“I love you Kook,” you whispered.

“I love you too Y/N-ah,” he grinned before leaning down and kissing you.

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old-primavera-cerezos · 3 years

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fic writer interview

thank you for the tag @kittycargo and @glittering-git!

name: Seth/primavera :)

fandoms: I think I’ve written only in Harry Potter with maybe a couple of drabbles or headcanons in Red, White, and Royal Blue. I’ve (recently) read mainly drarry, wolfstar, some HP rarepairs, and then firstprince (RWRB).

where you post: I usually post drabbles/headcanons/bullet points here and fics on ao3, then once in a while add the drabbles to ao3. then I’ll also do a post on tumblr for any longer fics I publish on ao3.

most popular one-shot: going by kudos on ao3, like this and like this - my first-ever fest submission :) also when checking this, I saw it just pushed over 10k hits, omg!!!

most popular multi-chapter: I have one permanently-incomplete multichap, Carrying, which will stay at 2/? probably forever. I kind of lost all interest in it. warning, it’s mpreg (which is not really my thing, idk why I wrote it). I’ve considered orphaning it, but I’ll keep it around.

favorite story I’ve written so far: this is tough because I love so many of them. probably a tie between Wednesdays and kiss me in the doorway, with a close second tie between like this and apple juice and peach.

fic you were nervous to post: like this and like this was for sure the most nerve-wracking. I love writing smut and admittedly I write a lot of it, but that was my first full-length fic to publish. I’d read some great @hpkinkfest fics the year before and I was worried mine wouldn’t measure up. also Harry’s feelings are very much my own, and I wasn’t sure if it was coming through clearly for the reader.

how do you choose your titles: ugh. like everyone else, I’m terrible at titles. usually a poem or song lyric. I also have a note in my phone of title ideas just waiting for fics to attach :) usually I write first and title later, but sometimes the title just springs into the google doc somehow.

do you outline: what’s an outline? but for real, I have a degree in English and my professors would be HORRIFIED to see the way I write my fics. I like what @kittycargo said and I do something similar - writing some paragraphs as if I’m describing it to a friend. here’s what I had “outlined” for kmitd:

complete: I don’t really know what this question means so I’ll go with - my last complete/published fic is Home is Where the Nifflers Are, an ultra-fluffy domestic fic centered around drarry opening a magical wildlife rescue. I wrote that for my partner, who won a drabble raffle a while back.

in progress: real life is desperately trying to distract me, but I’m hoping to get a drabble done for @wireless-festive-minifest this week. I also have two...three...? WIPs I want to finish this winter.

coming soon: I’m doing an anon fest and have half an outline (!!!) and a few pages written for that. otherwise, who knows?

prompts: I love prompts! I have maybe 10 sitting in my inbox (shhh) but hey, when the mood strikes me, it’s lovely to have something to go off of <3

I’m so bad at tagging... let’s go down my dash: @omgcmere @aryastark-valarmorghulis @rockmarina @xx-thedarklord-xx @prolix- @shealwaysreads @quicksilvermaid

#i was tagged #fic writer interview #about me

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the-nerdnextdoor · 3 years

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first line game

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns, and choose your favorite opening line! tag 10 of your favorite authors! (omg I only know like two authors that I follow on here so @seasidewriter1-writes you are my one and only tag lmao hi)

@songbvrd this is the first time I've ever been tagged in something like this and it honestly made me so happy (may or may not have teared up) that u thought of me, I'm so touched thank you!!!

I have 11 stories spanning from this year all the way back to 2013 and some of them I just... I was young, okay? and not very good at the writing shtick (not that I'm much better now, but hey). I'll turn it around by adding lines from future WIPs I've got lurking in my Google Docs lol.

Beauty is in the Details - Sterek (Teen Wolf) - 8k - 02/2021

Stiles has never really been much of an art-lover, so to speak.

Deaton’s Dream Beans - Sterek (Teen Wolf) - 64k - 11/2020-02/2021

Derek Hale has a lot of time for Vernon Boyd.

Finding One-Shots - Peter Parker/OC (MCU) - 10k - 05/2020-ongoing

Mikaela hands the cash over the counter to the man, giving him a small smile before she takes the pizza boxes and squeezes down the line of waiting customers to exit the pizza joint.

Untethered - Jessica Jones/Tony Stark (MCU) - 66k - 05/2020-ongoing

She should really have every lightbulb in her small apartment switched on and glaring, since the darkness always seems to press in around her, hiding black eyes and soft-spoken words.

Finding Home - Peter Parker/OC (MCU) - 237k - 04/2018-05/2020

They had put a bag over her head when they’d jumped her.

Siblings, Secrets, and Suspicions - Jenko/OC (21 Jump Street) - 20k - 12/2014-02/2017

I managed to sweet-talk my way into getting let out of work three hours early tonight, just to make sure I’m around if my brother decides high school parties aren’t as cool as they’re made out to be on television.

Of Fragile Souls - Alex Summers/OC (X-Men) - 58k - 06/2014-01/2018

His coat of white should have meant that he was the embodiment of peace, of innocence and purity and everything good in this world, but he contradicted that in any and every way he could.

The Phoenix and The Riddler - Riddler/OC (DC) - 3k - 10/2013

“D’you know where Bruce Wayne is hiding out?” I asked Selina, scratching one of her many cats’ heads.

A Forgotten Enemy - One Ring POV (Lord of the Rings) - 1k - 08/2013

I have discovered that time passes excruciatingly slowly when you lie, forgotten by all who once feared you, on an unknown riverbed.

Emberling - Legolas/OC (Lord of the Rings) - 58k - 07/2013-hiatus

Stars, the eldest of all beings belonging to the world of Middle Earth, and any other world existing.

The Phoenix - Riddler/OC (DC) - 39k - 05/2013-08/2013

“Patient interview number one. Patient’s name is Kenna Fyrian.”

Okay now it’s time for future WIPs so I can change the subject from those ooold fics I am cringing over after glancing in their direction lmao.

An Unstoppable Force and an Immovable Object - Thiam (Teen Wolf) - TBD

I'm not the bad guy, he had told Stiles.

Untitled Fic - Derek/OC (Teen Wolf) - TBD (won’t be the first line, but it’s all I have)

Ava’s eyes squint with wary suspicion as she hops down from her truck, pebbles skittering under her sneakers when she hits the ground.

Untitled Fic - Poe/OC (Star Wars) - TBD (no idea if this will be the first line, but it’s all I have)

The world is a bleak grey, from the soil to the buildings to the sky.

Untitled Fic - Griffin/OC (Jumper) - TBD

“Motherfuck-” Danny splutters through the blood pouring into her mouth, arms pumping as her feet thunder down the corridor.

Untitled Fic - OC (Umbrella Academy) - TBD

When Eliana was young, Luther would always insist she stand somewhere near the fire extinguishers positioned strategically within each room of the colossal mansion.

Thunder and Lightning - Arthur Morgan/OC (Red Dead Redemption 2) - TBD

Josephine crouches behind a large stone, one knee pressing into the soil, the damp earth slowly soaking into the material of her pants.

Untitled Fic - Jack/OC (Supernatural) - TBD

Vivian slows the car to a stop and turns the engine off, exhaling shakily.

Untitled Fic - Edmund/OC (Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian) - TBD

Arianna leans her back against the foot of the bed, one knee bent to support her elbow, the other leg stretched lazily in front of her.

and that’s all the ones that have any drabbles written for them! any others are just like vague bullet points at the moment.

I think the only kind of patterns I was aware of, looking back at these fics, is that my older ones when I first started out were mostly written in first person, and then from Finding Home-onwards I switched to third person. for some reason the first person stuff makes me especially cringy now. there’s a decent mix of short and long sentences, some dialogue thrown in, some names introduced straight off the bat, but I kinda like that I’m not doing the same thing over and over.

as for picking a favourite, uft.. Untethered is one I'm quite proud of, and that chapter kind of wrote itself one day when I was feeling particularly down and needing to distract myself, so it means something to me. Finding Home is my longest fic to date and is one that I hold very close to my heart, despite there being parts that I wish I'd done differently and stuff. Untitled Jumper Fic is hopefully going to be quite a fun one, when I eventually get round to it; what I’ve characterised so far for Danny I really like, so I’m looking forward to that one. An Unstoppable Force and an Immovable Object is another one that I’m excited for and super eager to get started on, but I’m holding myself back so I can concentrate on Untethered. Oh and then the Untitled Teen Wolf Fic is another one I keep having waves of inspiration for and I keep just noting it down in bullet points or writing drabbles and then tearing my attention back to my actual WIP.

the end?

#I can't believe the nonsense I used to write #I'm cringing so hard #tl;dr there isn't really a pattern and I'm bad at picking favourites #but this was fun #and I feel like a real Tumblr fanfic writer lmao #teen wolf #marvel #mcu #xmen #jumper #star wars #rdr2 #lotr #oc #fanfiction #fun

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ofxwordsxandxletters · 4 years

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Splitting Open

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

When Bobo Del Rey has a migraine and tries to ignore it, he ends up having to be taken care of.

Author’s note: As someone who suffers chronic migraine, I wanted to write a drabble with Bobo Del Rey experiencing them and having to have his partner and found!family taking care of him. So you get this.

*~*~*~*

Splitting Open

It crept upon him in increments so he hadn't fully caught the warning signs too used to the thrum of the curse and the constant heat under his skin. It made him sort of push passed anything else that didn't hit him like a freight train.

Until the throbbing, stabbing pain centered behind his eyes has him doubling over and nearly vomiting mid-step. Ones like these that came slowly and then struck at once tended to put him out for hours if not a full day. And this was particularly problematic as he was on his way to meet up with a certain heir. He braces himself against the door of the truck and considers just canceling and telling her that he had better things to do and she'd just have to wait but...

Waverly would be there and honestly, he didn't want to disappoint her. His stomach revolts violently and he ends up gagging but at least the pressure has lessened somewhat. It grants him at least clear enough vision to drive himself to Shorty's. In hindsight, he probably should have just asked one of the Revenants to do this but there was no way he was having them see him in this sort of state.

It still takes him longer than he likes and he misses a couple of turns, twice. Hopefully, Wynonna didn't expect him to be punctual.

Getting out of the truck leaves him dizzy and realizing that this was probably the worst idea he'd had and that in retrospect he was probably not thinking too clearly as his head was throbbing and it was very hard to focus on any one thing for too long. He closes his eyes a moment to try and reorient himself which once again takes longer than he'd like. He feels hot and cold and dizzy. Clammy and not at all like he should be doing this. But something, something wouldn't go well if he didn't. The reason was now fuzzy but he doesn't like it so he forces himself a step at a time forward. The light hurts, sounds hurt, everything just hurt.

Entering is no better; the sharp smells and sounds only make him want to vomit again and he struggles to stay upright. “It's about time you sho...Bobo?”

He struggles to look anything close to cocky and imposing and is sure there's no point as the look he's getting is quite concerned. And when it's from Wynonna, well he's clearly not hiding anything. “Migraine,” he manages to get out, “S-sort of snuck up on me...” His gesture is shaky, sloppy even as he tries to sound like it wasn't as much as it was.

“Migraine,” Wynonna says slowly gazing at him.

“Mmhmm, you know; headache on steroids? Everything hurts, smells are vomit-inducing, lights are awful, noise is worse. Those things? Got one trying to stab me through my eye. S' fantastic.”

“Then why the hell are you here instead of laying down somewhere?”

He wants to point out what should be obvious; they had a truce and he was getting tired of being accused of not pulling his weight in it but his stomach decides at that moment to want to revolt and he barely manages to get to a trashcan before he's retching miserably the throbbing worsening. “Goddammit, Bobo Del Rey,” Wynonna huffs as she approaches, “There are some things you don't try to force yourself through. This is one of them.”

“'S not...like I'd get much in the way of quiet at the compound a-anyway so if I'm going to be miserable might as well do as you asked.”

“Except, I'd like you to be coherent enough to give me an update. You are clearly feeling like someone ran you over a few times and I really do not want to deal with you having to get a trashcan every few minutes.”

He wants to argue but at this point; was he really going to win? Everything was just making things so much worse. Footsteps approach and he grimaces. “Is he okay?” Robin asks softly.

“Migraine apparently,” Wynonna answers, “Should probably put him in Doc's room until he gets back and can deal with him.”

“Ahhh, yeah, if you do that let me get something that might help. I'll be right back,” comes his immediate quiet answer before the steps recede lighter this time. Bobo had to hand it to that one in particular; he didn't absolutely hate him.

The jury was still out on the others most of the time.

He can barely finish that to completion before he winces at just everything. And then there are the soft footsteps before something is slipped over his head and the noise goes silent. Oh. Headphones. Robin had...

Yes, he definitely would let this one live. Of course he's lightly tugged and he goes with deciding that he's had more than enough of all of this. Of everything. The silence helps the throbbing and he is far more pliant to being pushed into the familiar sheets on Doc's bed before he just curls up. He's pretty sure the headphones keep him from hearing anything that might remotely be insulting about his pitiable state whether it's imagined or real and he is fine with that.

Sleep comes in fits and starts until there is a gentle shifting and he blinks blearily up at Waverly. His angel smiles softly before lightly pressing and he moves so he's laying on his back wondering what she was... The feel of a cold pack against his forehead startles him somewhat but helps immeasurably. His eyes slowly flutter closed and he's sure she mouth's something but can't quite make it out as he settles once more.

The next time he awakens the pain has lessened and the still cold item against his skin tells him it's been changed recently. Slowly shifting it and removing the headphones, he finds the room dark but can make out the figure sitting in the chair nearby. “Henry,” he manages.

“Robert,” comes the soft response, “You should take better care.”

“T-to be fair I didn't exactly notice this one coming. It happens sometimes.”

“Well, when you knew you should have called. I would have come to the park and kept an eye on things. Wynonna, for all her faults, would understand not wanting to deal with anyone in that case. Your health is important to us.”

“Is it now?”

“Do not be daft,” the man warns him, “I'm sour enough with you for things to be uncomfortable but there is also Waverly who would like you to know and I quote 'you have absolutely no common-sense or sense of self-preservation and when you are well enough she's going to punch you for this' end quote. So maybe learn a little better not to upset your family.”

“She...said that?”

“That she did and I am sure she means it, too.”

He can't help the soft chuckle before he'd murmur, “Maybe not the worst thing to hear in all of this.”

Doc rolls his eyes as he moves closer before gently reaching to brush his fingers along his jaw. “I let Levi know you'd be here for a spell and not to worry about you as well as to keep your more tempestuous community members in check so that you do not have to worry.”

“You actually trust Levi to do that?”

“No, that's why I also called and repeated it to Hui and Howard both.”

Bobo can't help laughing softly. “You are certainly learning, Henry. And...thank you. For what it's worth, you didn't have to do that and I appreciate it.”

“Hey now,” Doc murmurs gently as he cups the side of his face, “We are partners, yes? That means I'm allowed to try and help look after the boys if I feel the need.”

“And we both know the boys need all the looking after in the world.”

“Ain't gonna argue that because they are frightfully bad at a lot of things. However, you are to worry about nothing and just rest. I mean it.”

“You know I'm pretty bad at that,” he remarks, “How are you going to be sure that I will?”

At that, the other straightens before removing his hat and making short work of his boots, pants and shirt before slowly sliding into the bed curling an arm around him. “Because, Robert,” he murmurs nuzzling against his jaw, “I'm gonna be right here makin' sure you do.”

#Fanfic: Wynonna Earp #Hollirey #Bobo Del Rey #Bobo Del Rey x Doc Holliday #Doc Holliday

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sweet-teeth-mfs · 4 years

Text

Writing Tag Game

I was tagged by @red-exo 💕💝💖

Rules: complete the quiz and tag 5 people

1. what is your ideal setting for focusing on your writing?

I write in my study at home currently and I find I focus best in spaces that I’ve been able to decorate. I have a lot of art & objects in my study to kind of stimulate and kick start my brain... I love being surrounded by cute stuff as well as paintings, sculpture and plants (don’t judge me on my Mark Lee bullshit!)

My biases are showing!!! (or the ones my so called ‘friends’ bought me lolol I see you kiki, encouraging bad things!!)

2. what is your favourite genre to write?

I really enjoy writing crime, and obviously, I love writing smut. I find soft fics really quite specific, and therefore they can be a bit more difficult to master, but I love the challenge of writing them so I’d say that’s up there...but I also love writing some bullshit with cliffhangers and jokes so???

3. do you prefer to write on paper, or digitally?

I write all my smut & fanfic digitally, usually in the form of Google Keep notes, then drafts in Word for the big works, or Google Docs. I write academically on paper though, as it requires a bit more drafting.

4. it’s the middle of the night and you suddenly wake up with an idea. what do you do?

Grab my phone (usually under the pillow cause I’m a terrible addict), open up Google Keep and note it down in the most broken English drunken typing you’ve ever seen - adding a picture if I especially need to.

5. who is your favourite BTS person to write about ?

I’m going to cop out and do a top 4! Because I never usually have a singular favourite with questions like this!

Hobi (personal favourite)

I know it won’t come as a shock that Hobi is definitely one of my favourite people to write about. I love playing with the different shades he presents, and flirting between slick showman and soft sweetheart. I think my version has a deep seriousness behind his eyes and some kind of quiet dark side - and hopefully that comes across in my writing. I definitely write Jay more than J-Hope, and whilst I don’t think his fics are necessarily my best works, I love his presence in them.

Namjoon (most natural to write)

It’s pretty straight forward; I find Namjoon the easiest to write. I literally put Joon in a fictional room and then get busy focusing on the rest of the cast because I really don’t have to think about what Joon would do. I prefer to write him hard & a little angsty, but I also adore a bit of love-struck Joonie bear. My go to Dom for sure.

Taehyung (most difficult to write / greatest achievement of writing)

If you have been here for the full two years (anniversary in October!) that Sweet Teeth has been a thing, you would remember how much of a problem I had with writing Taehyung at first. I would get a lot of Tae requests and each one was a legitimate struggle to complete. Then I decided to write a smut drabble of Taehyung & a certain mirror and whooo boy, the rest is history. I really take pride in my Tae writing now, and I actually really enjoy putting him in things.

Jimin (favourite to surprise with)

I enjoy writing against type, and for some reason a lot of people write Jim in a completely different way to me. I have always seen him as a ‘kill with deadly kindness’ type, and I love to write him as lethally sexy, sweet but with a wicked smile. It’s also really fun because there seems to be a core group of Jimin fans who absolutely die for that version of him and I love writing for them (and me!)

6. do you like making your own characters, or do you usually write about real people?

I usually write about real people, but obviously fictional versions (’my versions’) of them. I also really enjoy writing my own characters (like my beloved Duchess & Artemis above & below).

I consider all my characters my own though, because I always remember a piece of advice my father gave me - I had complained to him that any writing ideas I had were ‘already written’ and he came back with

‘the ideas may have been written before, but they haven’t been written by You.’

Your own voice always makes a difference. You bring your entire personal history, your influences, your vocabulary and your comprehension to whatever you write, it comes along with you subconsciously like a suitcase in your mind, so any person you write, even if they’ve already been written by others - will always carry with them little pieces of you. Original characters are just the chance for less influence from exterior sources because they’re wholly a combination of your personal viewpoint.

7. have you ever written a book, or a story with more than 15 chapters (or 100k words)?

I think the most I’ve written on one story was about 50k, when I was around 18. It was a Lord of the Rings / King Arthur / Sci fi fantasy.

8. how often do you get ideas?

If I averaged it out I’d say I get at least one new concept a day, but some days I get a whole bunch, and some days I get none because I don’t have any time to focus on writing. But my brain is really high running and I often ricochet between inspiration points and mood so it’s not like all the ideas are good, even if there is a lot of them, and I often lack the discipline to action all the ideas I have!

9. do you ever get an idea that you really like, but just can’t seem to finish?

That’s literally my life 24/7/365, see answer above.

10. what is your least favourite plot?

Here comes the rant.

As far as smut goes, my least favourite plot is a toss up between sex that sounds implausible/ unnatural and the really tropey fanfic cheese tropes/aus/plots - like ‘they were roommates’ or ‘enemies to lovers’ or ‘he’s a complete bastard but i love him anyway’

Now first off, don’t get me wrong, I love a trope. I’m a bit fan of using them and I rely on them pretty heavily, especially in my longer pieces. However, if I see another ‘college au enemies to lovers au’ Imma scream. COLLEGE ISNT LIFE OMG PICK ANOTHER SETTING. COLLEGE IS BORING IN COMPARISON TO THE GRIT AND THRILL OF REAL LIFE SEX! DO YOU KNOW WHAT SEX FEELS LIKE WHEN YOURE DOWN ON YOUR LUCK AT WORK AND ALL YOU HAVE IS THAT 3AM MOMENT OF HEAT AND TIMES RUNNING OUT AND THEY HAVE TO BE GONE BY MORNING CAUSE YOU’LL NEVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN... WHY DIDN’T WE DO THIS YEARS AGO???

And as far as my first point, I just find that sex that is either difficult to read/access ‘what are they doing? what position are they actually in? where are they??’ or is completely unbelievable/untrue to how bodies work - ‘she’s so wet but so tight’ & ‘i can see his dick’s outline in my belly’ really breaks my immersion and drops me right out of any sexiness in the fic itself.

Like, our job as smut writers, in my opinion, is to arouse you. We’re supposed to write stuff that gets you, the reader, off.

It should be accessible, so you can understand it easily, and it should be realistic, so you believe its really happening - because you can relate to it. That way you get turned on quicker and better because you’re fully in the dream space of the writing. And when people make these simple mistakes, of describing shit that’s unrealistic to the point of uncomfortable or using stereotypes that read as unfeminist, it just reads to me as inexperience, or a lack of understanding of the way the world actually works. It prioritises things that I don’t agree with, and empowers treatment I don’t recommend.

Like girl, no. Just, no.

I generally believe that the sweeter, the fonder you are towards your potential readers, the better - if you can think of them as someone you want to treat, to treasure, to spoil, that thought will ring through in your writing. Tenderness is underrated in fanfic, and I think it’s so healthy and healing, and we all deserve it.

Thanks for tagging me Kat! I loved doing this!

I tag @gotmetalkinginmysleep, @thotantics, @lamourche and @feedmeramyun if they want to do it/haven’t done it yet!

*@bangtan-sonyeon-scans credit for scans! (seriously, go follow them, its like the best place for scans!)

#writers supporting writers #My writing #writing tag #tag game #about edie #edie's opinion #i love talking shop!!!#thanks for the tag!#I loved including all these pics #mmmm #everyones so prettttty #ask edie #mafia jin #oc characters

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elsaclack · 5 years

Note

imma just state for the record that while i really want you to get on writing the next chapter of the royalty AU, i also REALLY REALLY WANT YOU TO WRITE ANOTHER SEGMENT FROM YOUR OLD “JAKE CAN SENSE AMY’S FEELINGS” SOULMATE AU LAKSJDFLAKSDJF 😍😭💕 (idk if the old drabbles still exist online at this point but wow i think about that AU maybe once every 16 minutes, i’m a mess)

HELLOOOOOOO ERICA i’m not even sure if you remember sending this to me, it’s been sitting in my ask box for THAT LONG!!! but it’s been too long since i’ve been able to write anything i’m really REALLY proud of so i decided that tonight is the night!! and when i went to my ask box to knock out a prompt, this one literally started writing itself!!!!

lmao!!!!

SO YEAH u said another segment from the soulmates can feel each other’s emotions au and i thought what better segment to write than the one you liked the most out of the old ones that i STUPIDLY forgot to save/crosspost before i deleted!!! aka i rewrote it LMAO

it’s. Different than it was before but that’s because i had no idea what i was doing before and now i kind of have half of an idea about what i’m doing lmao it references one of the other one-shots and i’m about 95% sure i still have that one as a google doc so after i copy and paste this bad boy into a google doc, i’ll double check that i still have that other one too :-))))))))))))))

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS AND THANK YOU FOR THE ROYALTY AU I PROMISE I WILL FINISH IT PLEASE ACCEPT THIS AS AN APOLOGY FOR BEING SO FREAKING LATE ON UPDATING LMAO

Amy’s front door is incredibly old.

There are places between the grains of wood in which the paint has seeped and morphed together before it dried, Jake notes.

He’s been staring at said grains for the better part of five minutes now - or, at least, that’s how long he’s been aware of the fact that he’s been staring at said grains. It’s really stupid, all things considered. Stupid that he’s paralyzed on her doorstep when he’s trudged across it more times than he can count. Stupid that he’s been standing her motionless for so long, he’s certain he looks like a weird stalker to any of her neighbors who might be looking through their peepholes out into the hall. Stupid that with every second that passes, the ice cream in this plastic bag melts a little more.

Stupid that every time he inhales, he feels her split and aching heart, feels her loneliness, feels her bitterness, all as real and intimate as if they are his own.

Something happened half an hour ago. He’s not entirely sure what - hasn’t tried sussing it out beyond the initial bombardment - all he really knows is that he was home, on his couch, content with his Jurassic Park with limited commercial interruptions, and then it felt like the whole earth was falling to pieces and he knew.

So maybe he is sure about what happened - she’d mentioned as she left the precinct earlier that she had dinner plans with Teddy tonight. And it’s odd, how beyond his immediate concern for her, he feels his own undeniable sense of hope rising. His soulmate - who doesn’t know she’s his soulmate - is single once again.

Finally.

Maybe, he’d told himself as he mindlessly snatched his keys off the counter and jogged out of his apartment. Maybe.

“Amy?” He calls as he raps his knuckles against the door. Her emotions flicker in a familiar rhythm against his breast - a split-second of surprise, a mix of confusion and apprehension, a lick of irritation. “Ames, it’s me. You home?”

(Of course he knows she’s home, but this is all for her benefit, he’s not going to come gallivanting in ten minutes into her single-hood toting ice cream and a declaration of his undying love and an oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m your soulmate -)

Her apprehension and irritation are gone now, giving way to a much larger portion of pure confusion. “Jake?” he hears her voice moving, muffled, but close beyond the closed door. The light seeping out through the peephole flickers as her head moves by. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. “Your drug store had a better deal on ice cream - two-for-one.” He hoists the bag up a little higher, as if the opaque brown plastic will back his claim. “I figured since I was already in the neighborhood, I’d come by with dessert.”

Her confusion grows more intense - the light has not returned to the peephole. “I told you I had a date tonight,” she says slowly.

He’s lucky she can’t feel his emotions - otherwise, she’d register the spike of panic jutting up in his chest. “Oh, that was tonight?” His voice cracks beneath the pressure of his scrambling ruse; the skin of his forehead is in danger of ripping for how grotesquely his brows have contorted into what he can only hope is an expression of shock. “I thought you said that was tomorrow!”

“No, tonight.”

“Maybe it really is time to invest in one of those planny-thingies.”

“Why, so you can keep track of my date schedule? And don’t pretend like you don’t know they’re called planners, you got me one for Secret Santa last year.” There’s a savagery to her tone echoed by a twist of pain in her chest; he opens his mouth, but her immediate pulse of regret gives him pause. “I’m sorry,” she says, now much quieter, and he can’t pretend to hide his concern any longer.

(It’s not like he’d have to work that hard to come up with an excuse - she’s practically an open book, especially to him, even with a closed door between them, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s an amazing detective-slash-genius.)

“Are you okay?”

The pain in her chest seems to wrench a little wider, pierce a little deeper. “I don’t know,” she says, and the light in the peephole reappears a split-second before something solid thunks against the door from the other side.

(Her forehead, he’d be willing to bet.)

“Do you want me to leave?”

The part of her that seems to jump at that suggestion is a bit of a blow to his ego, but it’s nothing compared to what the skittish panic that flares to life the moment the question leaves his lips does. He hears her sigh again - hears the metallic sounds of a hand landing on the doorknob - hears silence. And then -

“No.”

- so small and quiet, he almost misses it.

“Do you want me to come inside?”

“I don’t know.”

And she really doesn’t, he notes.

“I promise I won’t judge,” he offers. “You don’t even have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to. If - if something, y’know, uh, happened. You don’t have to talk at all, we can just - we can sit and watch TV and eat ice cream and I can run my mouth until it’s just like white noise.”

She’s quiet as she deliberates. “What kind of ice cream?”

“Cherry Garcia, obviously.”

A pulse of gratitude and affection and something else he doesn’t exactly have a name for warms his chest as the lock on her front door slides out of place. “I just - I need to warn you,” she says before she opens the door. “Don’t say a word.”

She opens the door before he has a chance to clarify, and the moment she does he understands - it’s clear that she’s been crying. And he well and truly hates himself for the first thought that pops into his stupid reptilian brain:

She is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

Her cheeks are red - rubbed raw from her swiping fingers and probably tissues to blot away any running mascara that streaked down toward her jawline. There are no tears glistening in her eyes or clinging like dew drops to her eyelashes, but the whites of her eyes are still a little bloodshot, and the browns of her pupils are intense pools of chocolate that seem to pierce his very soul in the brief split-second she allows herself to meet his gaze. Even her lips look darker than usual - probably stains leftover from whatever lipstick she’d so carefully drawn on just to haphazardly wipe away.

It honestly takes him a minute to even register the fact that her hair is thrown up in a knotted, wild bun, and that her frame is essentially hidden beneath the baggy layers of a massively over-sized Cheap Trick concert t-shirt and the rattiest grey sweatpants he’s ever laid eyes on. All in all, he’s very obviously walked into the immediate aftermath of an Amy Santiago break-up.

And she is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

“I said don’t say a word.” she repeats, this time through grit teeth. He panics for a split second, ready to dump the ice cream on the floor and fling himself out the window if he’d subconsciously spoken that totally stalker-esque monologue out loud, before his awareness catches up to him and he realizes he’s been staring. Motionless and staring, actually. Or, well, more like motionless and gaping and staring. A quick assessment of her emotions confirms, she’s not feeling shock - she’s embarrassed and self-conscious. She thinks he’s judging her.

Well that simply won’t do.

“I’m just waiting for you to go turn the TV on so I can get spoons,” he says as he gestures toward the kitchen, hoping his bravado sounds more natural than it feels.

Suspicion has joined the maelstrom of emotions storming through her chest, but it only seems to manifest in her slightly narrowed eyes; she backs away a pace, and then two, before finally turning away and trotting out into her living room. He releases the breath still caught in his chest in one quick huff, and shakes his head as if to clear the cotton suddenly stuffed there as he makes his way toward her silverware drawer.

“It’s the third drawer to the right of the dishwasher,” he hears her call as he pulls the drawer open.

“I know,” he says, letting an ounce of indigence color his voice. “You think I don’t know where your silverware is?”

“I don’t know!” she says, and not for the first time he’s so grateful that she’s his soulmate - otherwise he’d be left wondering if she was kidding beneath the miles-thick layer of outrage ringing with her words, instead of feeling that little bud of amusement in the center of everything else. “Teddy never figured out where it was and we dated for nearly a year, you’ve only been over here, like, ten times!”

He’s also thankful for the wall standing between them at this moment - the wall that covers his involuntary wince, accented by stabbing the spoons through both pliant ice cream surfaces at the same time. “Well,” he says as he gracefully lifts both ice cream cartons and eases the drawer closed with his hip at the same time, “that’s the difference between me and Ted-odore - I’m a detective. I remember details.”

Her expression is equal parts disgruntled, thankful, and annoyed when he makes his way into her living room. “Teddy’s also a detective,” she reminds him as she plucks her carton of ice cream from his hand.

“Ah, but only I am an amazing detective-slash-genius,” he reminds her. They sit at the same time - her carefully, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch over one shoulder and folding a leg under her in one movement, him flopping back, the force of his body connecting with the cushions just short of hard enough to jostle the narrow table behind the couch.

It’s the end of the conversation for quite a while - long enough that they get through an entire episode of The Office without interruption, long enough that half of his ice cream is gone and his fingers are well and truly numb. It’s just long enough that he knows she’s absorbed in what she’s watching - her eyes never deviate from the screen, and the inner turmoil seems to quiet down to some distant back-burner in her mind. Just long enough, he thinks, for him to do a little surreptitious investigating from right here on her couch, without her ever noticing.

He turns to his right, away from her, pretending to cast around on the table behind the couch for a coaster upon which to set his ice cream. He already knows there’s a stack of three on the coffee table eight inches from his knees - the fourth is on the other side of the coffee table, beneath Amy’s quarter-finished ice cream - but he also happens to know that she has a nice set of geode-looking coasters stacked neatly on this table, equal parts artistic and utilitarian, and (if he’s not mistaken) identical to the ones he’d spotted at Captain Holt’s house some eighteen months earlier.

He pretends to grapple for them - they’re two inches to the right of where his hand is currently grasping - all while studying the scene laid out on the dining room table just visible from this angle. There are still dishes there - dirty dishes, if he’s not mistaken - which is, of course, highly uncharacteristic for the woman to whom they belong. It’s clear the meal was in progress when...something happened. Something abrupt and unexpected, something shocking - something that clearly rocked her to her very core, drudging up feelings of isolation and loneliness and a few others he recognizes from the dark weeks that followed his father leaving all those years ago.

He’s practically bursting at the seams with desperation to know why.

The light piano theme song plays over the end credits just as Amy loudly and pointedly clears her throat, and he winces as his fingers close over the coaster he was seeking. “You’re not as sly as you think you are, Mr. Genius,” she mutters as he rights himself on the couch again.

He sighs as he leans forward to set his coaster and carton on her coffee table. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he reiterates, and he knows from her quiet calm resonating near his heart that she truly understands that he means it. “I just - y’know, I wanna, um. Make sure that you’re okay, and stuff.”

She doesn’t look at him. The next episode is already queuing, seconds away from starting automatically, but her eyes are now glazed as she chews the inside of her cheek. Movement by her hip catches his eye - her fingers drum restlessly along the side of the remote, the only outward sign of her visceral inner turmoil, now back to center stage.

“I wanna talk about it,” she says haltingly, thumb mashing down on the pause button. “I do, I - I need to talk about it. I just -”

- don’t want to, he finishes in his mind after she falls silent again. Even if he didn’t have a front-row seat to the weighing of emotions happening in her gut, he could easily follow through her facial expressions - even the nano-expressions, the ones that really don’t even fully register before they’re gone, replaced by the next.

“It - it sucks, okay?” she finally says. “This whole situation just sucks.”

He remains silent.

“We were, like ten minutes into dinner and everything was going fine. I was telling him about that perp Charles and I took out behind the bakery earlier, and how Charles refused to leave the scene until he’d sampled literally everything the bakery sold, and when I looked up I realized he’d spilled wine all over himself while I was talking but he hadn’t even noticed it because - because -”

She draws in a ragged inhale; he can feel it dragging like knives across his heart.

“I’ve never heard of a connection manifesting that late in someone’s life,” she says after a moment of composition. “I mean - I know it’s possible, obviously, I’ve read articles about it and everything, but I’ve never known anyone who’s had that happen to them. It’s always young kids to teenagers, that’s when it’s most common for the connection to start - Teddy’s thirty-seven years old. He didn’t think he was the receptive one in his partnership. He didn’t think he had a partner. But he does, and he felt them for the first time half-way through my story about Charles shotgunning a croissant. And it wasn’t me.”

The silence is thick and swelling in his head, and the temptation to scream the truth is almost overwhelming for all of two seconds. He’s not certain he would have been able to keep his composure, if not for her stark feelings of inadequacy roiling with her heartache radiating through his chest.

“That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you,” he starts, far more tentatively than he would like. She rolls her eyes. “Hey, I mean it. There’s nothing wrong with you, Amy.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she mutters, “you’ve felt your soulmate since you were seven years old. All I’ve had for my entire life is radio silence. Every single one of my brothers is the receptive one in their partnerships. I’m the only one of all my siblings. My parents had already met and were dating as teenagers when their connection started. I am literally the only person in my immediate family who doesn’t feel a connection. It’s not that outlandish to assume I’m the defect, here.”

“Maybe you’re just not the receptive one,” he counters, determination growing with every ounce of inwardly-focused disdain he feels pouring through her very veins. “Maybe there’s someone out there right now who can feel everything you’re feeling, who’s hurting just as bad as you are because you’re hurting so bad right now. Maybe there’s someone who’s been looking for you for his entire life, who’s looking that much harder so he can prove to you that you’re not defective, you’re not a mistake, you’re not worthless.” She’s staring at him full-on now, brows furrowed, intently focused on his every word. “You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful and amazing people I know, Ames. Your soulmate is out there and as soon as you find each other, I promise, this will all be worth the wait. Don’t be so mean to yourself because some chump missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime so he can go out hunting for a soulmate while covered in red wine stains. Okay?”

She seems to hesitate, before the corners of her mouth twitch against a smile. “Okay,” she says softly.

He’s not sure how and he’s not sure why, but he does know one thing: something in the air has shifted.

He isn’t able to put a name to it until three weeks later, when he finds himself back in that very same apartment on that very same couch, the very same ice cream in his hands, the very same episode queued up and ready to start on the television somewhere off to his right. He’s paying it very little attention, in all honesty - he’s far too enthralled by the gorgeous woman in the red dress on the other end of the couch, toeing off her heels beneath her coffee table and settling in in much the same position as before.

(Save for the silky black curls swept over one shoulder so as not to drip ice cream in them, of course.)

He’s watching her shift, watching the kinetic energy burn through her rolling ankles and curling toes and twitching nose and drumming fingers. She seems intently focused on her ice cream - the very same carton from which she’d eaten the last time he was here - but he knows there’s a level of awareness of his gaze on her.

Just as she knows that he knows.

It hits him here, in this moment: she knew.

“You knew,” he says. Her eyes flick up to his face and all at once, his suspicions are confirmed. “You knew!”

“Knew what?”

“The last time I was here, before I left, I felt something change. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but now I know - you knew I was your soulmate before I left that night, didn’t you?”

It’s the first time they’ve really talked about it since their confrontation in the evidence lock-up - since the electrifying kiss that followed it - and as her smile blossoms, her amusement peaks. “I had a feeling,” she corrects.

“What gave it away?”

“What, you mean how did I know? The kiss was a pretty good hint -”

“Yeah, but you weren’t really shocked after that. I mean, you were, but - not about it being me. What gave me away?”

“I knew three days ago when we were raiding the warehouse and I got ambushed by that guy and you came flying in before he could even pin me to the wall. But I had a feeling after you gave your little speech about how I’m basically the greatest human being on the planet and you mentioned my soulmate feeling emotions that I know I didn’t put into words.”

“Damn it,” he mutters, letting his shoulders fall back against the cushions behind him. She laughs, delighted, and the sound is like pure sunlight bubbling between his ribs. “After all these years, I can’t believe I just straight slipped up. Right to your face, too! I’d always assumed it would be Charles who screwed up.”

A wave of surprise washes over her, but she suppresses it a moment later. “We’ll talk more later,” she says with a smile. “Right now, I wanna try something else.”

She leans forward to set her carton on her coaster and a second later she pounces, pinning him back against the cushions, hovering over him. Her grin has gone Cheshire and her fingers are closing over his before pulling his own carton out of his hand; he releases a breathless laugh as she leans away, just far enough to reach the coffee table, before resuming her position over him. “This is new,” he says.

“It is,” she confirms. “Also new? You feeling unsure of something.”

“Hey,” he snaps, “I’m always unsure of things. You’ve never known because I’m good at hiding it.”

“Not anymore.”

She leans down before he can respond, until her lips are a breath away from his. He can feel his heart tripping in his chest and he knows she can feel it, too - breathless anticipation radiates and sparks like a livewire between them, igniting every last nerve ending, like a fuse lit seconds away from exploding. “Whoa,” he chokes, hands fumbling before landing on her hips.

“Intense,” she breathes back, apparently to enthralled by the build-up to dare take the plunge. “Did it always feel like this?”

“Never actually done this before,” he mutters.

She pulls back an inch - just far enough for him to see her roll her eyes in accompaniment with her wave of exasperation crashing through his chest. “I just mean - this, us, our - our connection. Was it always this intense?”

“No,” he shakes his head, acutely aware of the fact that his hands are still on her hips and he can feel the heat of her skin through the red material. “N-no, never. I mean - when you were feeling something intense, it was kind of strong? But now that it’s a two-way street, so to speak, it’s - everything is way more intense. Especially this.”

She hums thoughtfully, gaze fixated on a spot on the cushion just over his left shoulder, before she suddenly seems to remember herself and where she is. He grins up at her when she blinks herself back into focus - and the twist of affection in her chest is almost cruel for how blinding and savage it is.

“Wow,” she breathes, lifting up a little higher to press her fingertips to her sternum.

“Sorry,” he mumbles a bit sheepishly. “I just - I’m really into you.”

“I can feel that,” she says with a laugh. Her hand falls from her chest much closer to his face than before; he briefly closes his eyes at the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair, part curious, part reverent. “I’m really into you, too.”

He grins again before lightly pinching her hip, laughing when she thumps both heels of her hands against his chest in retaliation. “I can feel that,” he echoes before bending his knees, bringing her teetering forward, back to her original position of a breath away from his lips. This time he cranes his head up to catch her before she can draw back; like both times before, the meld of her lips against his brings everything else to a screeching halt. Her hands splay out gently on either side of his face as his slide up the dips of her waist to skim up her back, thumbs sweeping out over the defined ridge of her lowest ribs.

She pulls away after an eternity, after a split second, lips dark and shiny as she gasps for air; she closes her eyes when he reaches up to move her hair back over her shoulder, so that nothing impedes his view of her face. “You were right,” she mumbles breathlessly.

“Huh?”

“You were right,” she repeats, with a little more conviction than before. “This was worth the wait. You were worth the wait.”

It’s the last coherent thing either one of them says until morning.

#my b99 fics #brooklyn nine nine #jake x amy #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #soulmate au!!!#erica gives the basic gist of the set up in her ask lmao #ANYWAYS PLS ENJOY #startofamoment

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 5 years

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To Land On Your Feet - Chapter 07

Sorry for the lateness of everything, everyone! I updated over on my AO3 last night, but then ended up posting the un-proofed copy and even DOUBLE posting that. Everything should be on track now, though, and hopefully this cold will be over before I go back to school on Monday! With that, get ready for the next two chapters!

Remember that this story updates with a chapter between Tuesday-Wednesday and a chapter between Friday-Saturday with the possibility of other chapters in between!

Also, consider donating $3 a month to my Patreon and getting access to unpublished drabbles and the Google Doc where I write this story; meaning you could see chapters and notes days or even weeks in advance.

Enjoy!

Click here to read the work on Archive Of Our Own.

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Summary: Aizawa Shouta had a good life. He was a happily married pro-hero teacher, had two cats that loved to make his life difficult, and soon, if things went well, he would have Shinsou Hitoshi as a son. Thanks to an unexpected attack by a man with the League of Villains, though, Shouta is turned into a cat. While he had a fondness for cats, that never meant he wanted to be one, especially when no one seems to recognize him and his friends and family are trying to find him when he’s right there.

He had been planning to find a way to change back, but instead he ends up following Shinsou Hitoshi to the foster home he lives in after hearing some worrying information from the teen himself. Shouta himself was guilty of venting his frustrations to cats, but hearing that Hitoshi would be locked outside in the cold if he was late getting home was just another clue among countless that something was wrong. He has to get back to normal, but he’d be a poor hero and a shit father-to-be if he didn’t follow the kid and make sure he was okay.

Besides, quirks like this usually had a time limit. Right?

<<First Chapter>> <<Previous Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

Chapter Seven

Slinking through shadowed alleyways and hidden corners, Shouta kept a careful eye on his target as he thought over his lack of success with Hitoshi over the weekend. The teen hadn’t ever managed to understand any of his hints or clues, and Shouta doubted the connection would come even after he had been named Eraser of all things. It was stupidly cute, but Shouta knew the kid was going to be embarrassed as hell once the truth came out.

The fact Hitoshi hadn’t figured out who he was, though, was one of the main reasons he was darting from shadow to shadow, the rising sun diminishing his choice in paths and forcing him to get creative with his new body. It was good training, if nothing else, he supposed. The crisp air of the early dawn was refreshing, as well, although Shouta couldn’t help but hate how early Hitoshi had to wake up in order to make all the trains he needed to take to get to school.

‘If he takes the next train coming in and makes his other two trains on time, then he’s still getting to school after classes officially start most of the time. No wonder Nemuri always tries to complain about how late he is to her homeroom.’ He would have to mention Hitoshi’s transportation issues to her since they had both had been trying to figure out what would make Hitoshi so late for weeks.

Shaking his head and focusing back in on what he was doing, Shouta kept careful track of Hitoshi as the teen rushed onto his train, completely unaware as Shouta slipped in after him, timing it so the doors would close before anyone got the bright idea to try and kick him off.

Hitoshi fell into a seat and looked ready to take a long nap until his stop, Shouta smirking to himself as jumped up on the seat next to Hitoshi and gave a loud shriek of a meow. Half the businessmen on the train jumped back from them as Hitoshi went ramrod straight and stared at him with wide eyes.

‘So, on top of the class we need to have on voiceless communication, I need to give you extra lessons on training and tracking and knowing when you’re being followed. Honestly, kid, I’ve been following you since you left that prison of yours.’

“How…” Hitoshi looked at a loss for words as he cautiously scratched at Shouta’s neck. “How did you manage to follow me when I didn’t even notice you?”

Shouta stretched out before curling up in the seat next to Hitoshi, letting the kid continue to pet him. ‘In your defense, kid, I have a decade and a half of experience in being an underground hero. Even other pros have a hell of a time knowing when I’m following them. Hizashi is the only one that always knows I’m there and that’s because he, in his words, trained himself to know so no surprises were every spoiled.’ Hm. Shouta would have to tell all of these stories to Hitoshi again when he could be understood.

“Okay… Okay, okay, okay. Which teacher will be willing to believe me when I say I tried to leave my new giant wild cat I found last night at home?” Hitoshi didn’t seem to expect an answer, only huffing as he crossed his arms and sunk down in his seat with a bitter twist to his expression. “Sensei would believe me.”

Shouta tensed, watching as Hitoshi seemed to curl in on himself, nails digging into his sleeves as he stared at the ground, words a soft mutter of, “Aizawa-sensei has always seemed to believe me.”

‘Oh, Hitoshi…’ Shouta made a rumbling noise, low and quiet, and pushed his head against Hitoshi’s shoulder, trying to get him to loosen up. ‘You’ve never given me reason not to believe you.’

“Sorry, Eraser,” Hitoshi said, voice still quiet as his fingers tangled in Shouta’s fur. “I know. I probably shouldn’t be worrying, huh? This is Eraserhead, after all. There’s never been a fight he hasn’t come back from!”

Hm. Shouta supposed Hizashi had been just a bit right when he implied Shouta was embarrassed over the kid’s obvious admiration over him. Was this how All Might felt when it came to Midoriya?

“Right. Right! He’s probably doing his best wherever he is, so we need to be doing our best, too! Besides, he’s probably already back and getting ready to deal with 1-A. Honestly, I’d be tempted to go missing, too, if it meant a break from them.”

Shouta gave as best a laugh as he could, pleased that Hitoshi was cheered up, at least, lively and excited as he ‘lectured’ Shouta on the best way to behave and how he couldn’t enter the school no matter how much he wanted to. Hitoshi was in for a very rude surprise, Shouta mused.

‘Right. Simple enough, I suppose.’ Shouta carefully flexed his paws, claws digging into the dirt and grass under his new appendages as he looked out at the school grounds from the tree he had taken refuge under as soon as he had slipped onto the U.A. campus.

Hitoshi had spent the whole trip lecturing him on ‘behaving’ and worrying about everything that could go wrong, so Shouta had at least waited until Hitoshi was well on his way to class before he had tried to get onto campus. His luck had finally seemed to turn as he had managed to slip through opening gates thanks to an even later student, the frazzled looking third year running off towards the support department the moment he could.

Shouta had, after a minute or so of thought, sat himself down under a leafy tree and thought about how best to proceed with his… dilemma.

A large part of him, nearly all of him, wanted to run straight to the teacher’s lounge, track down Hizashi, and never leave his side again. He knew, with everything in him, that Hizashi had probably already worried himself to pieces over the fact Shouta had been declared missing while out on a patrol. That was what Shouta wanted to do, but it wasn’t the most logical thing to do.

While Hizashi would no doubt recognize him after a minute or two, longer if he was tired enough, it would be best to have a translator on hand. Luckily for him, he had a student in his class who could speak, and presumably understand, animals.

‘My entire class is going to find out about this,’ Shouta thought to himself, wishing he could give a proper sigh as he stood up and began walking towards the building his homeroom was currently in. ‘Nothing else for it, though.’ Having his class find out what had happened in order to talk to Hizashi was better than the chance of Hizashi not even realizing Shouta was there.

It was a small price to pay in order to get this entire situation settled and dealt with calmly and efficiently. Besides, Kouda was discreet and if he realized two of his teachers were married, he knew Kouda would either keep quiet or at least not tell the loud people in class.

‘You problem children actually opened a window when one of your teachers was declared missing in action and the campus has already seen attack by an outside force?’ Shouta had to take a moment to just stare at the window, calmly reminding himself that these were still children and that most of his frustration stemmed from the fact he was in no state to keep them safe if something were to happen again.

That didn’t mean that he wasn’t finding more and more things to lecture his entire class on once he was back to normal in the next day or two.

“-sub will be, today? Yesterday it was Present Mic, but he didn’t look so good.” Close enough to now hear the conversation, Shouta paused to listen for a few more moments before making himself known. “I mean, he looked ready to cry for half the class!”

“Of course he looked ready to cry! One of his best friends just went missing!” One of the girls, Ashido, it sounded like, lectured. “I’d be ready to cry, too, if the man I was in love with suddenly-”

There was an outpouring of noise and protest at this, Shouta hearing one or two students shouting about ‘conspiracy theories.’ Shouta wanted to laugh, especially when he heard Hagakure shout out a loud, “There’s something between those two and you all know it!”

Shouta would need to remember to give those two girls extra credit for their observational skills. It was surprising, really, that the class hadn’t asked about his love life yet, all things considered. It was even more surprising Midoriya hadn’t caught on considering his gift for analysis. Shouta was honestly surprised Midoriya’s quirk wasn’t Analysis after having him for a few classes.

That kid’s quirk still didn’t sit well with him. A strength augmentation quirk was average enough, but to not realize it was there until he was almost fifteen? Midoriya had mentioned something in his files about his body not being able to use his quirk until he had bulked up, so perhaps that was it… Ah, worries for another time.

Crouching down and giving himself a moment to center his weight, Shouta leapt up and through the open window, landing a few inches away from one of his students. Said student, Yaozoru, made some sort of noise between a yelp and a shriek as she jolted back in her seat, Shouta making a note to apologize later as he went over to his desk in the front of the room and jumped on it to look at his class.

“Guys, is there a giant cat on Aizawa-sensei’s desk, or am I losing it?” Kaminari asked nervously after a tense minute or so of silence.

Shouta tried not to snort or make any odd noises when he heard Kirishima’s quiet, “Thank fuck, I thought I was imagining it.”

Odd that the class hadn’t started yet, considering the time, but they were probably still waiting for the substitute that would take over. That was fine, though, as that would just give him more time to explain things.

‘Hey, hey, settle down, you guys should be used to odd things by now,’ Shouta ‘spoke,’ half-waiting for Kouda to start translating before he tensed up as he scanned his class again. Something was wrong.

Counting his students quickly, Shouta felt his heart almost stutter to a stop when he saw that there were two empty seats. While Mineta’s was to be expected as the boy had been dropped from the hero course due to his ceaseless comments and actions towards the girls of the class, the seat Kouda sat in was empty, as well. A quick glance around the classroom showed he wasn’t hovering near any desks or chairs and Shouta felt his worry increase.

“Think this is some kind of test?” Jirou ‘whispered,’ a few of the students tensely laughing while others looked ready to grab for their quirks. Shouta was proud of them for being so quick to think through every possibility and being prepared for danger, but also he felt a deep sense of sorrow at seeing all of these children as paranoid as experienced pro heroes would be.

“A test after our fucking idiot teacher goes missing?” Bakugou growled, explosions starting to flicker across his palms as he glared up at Shouta. “Un-fucking-likely.” Jeez, he swore even more when he wasn’t around teachers. Shouta hadn’t thought that possible.

Satou gave a nervous little laugh, gaze flicking to the empty seat in front of him and muttering a quiet, “Of all the times for Kouda to be sick and signed out at home.”

“He should be back by the end of the week, but that doesn’t give us much help right now,” Uraraka pouted, looking lost in thought. “Maybe he’s just an escaped pet who belongs to a student or teacher.”

As his students started talking and debating on whether or not he was a villain in disguise, Shouta took a moment to ruminate on the thought of how screwed he was. While Kouda being gone for a day would have been bearable, he was gone for the week. Shouta knew what district the kid lived in, but it had been too long since he had last visited his house. Of all the kids that could be sick, why did it have to be the one who could help him?

‘I don’t suppose the rest of you have any sort of cat understanding secondary quirk?’ Stranger things had happened, after all, but he was going to assume that the answer was a no judging by the blank or startled looks at his meowing.

“It wouldn’t be presumptuous to assume the League has someone who can shapeshift,” Midoriya finally said. “It would make sense for their group to have a member with that quirk, after all, and judging by his appearance this cat, human or not, has obviously been in a few fights. The scarring looks odd, in some places, but you can tell it was done by an outside force. The matted down fur suggests that some of them are new, so obviously it’s recent, and his size is out-of-the-ordinary when his structure still just looks like a normal cat…”

“Shut the hell up, you damn nerd!” At least those two hadn’t changed any since he had last seen them, Shouta mused. What a pity.

“Good morning, my lovelies!” The door to the classroom slammed open and it was only years of trained instincts that kept Shouta from flinching or jumping at the noisiness of it all. “Who’s ready for another day of… Ah.”

Shouta looked over to see one of his his long-time ‘friends’ staring at him, Nemuri startled and surprised in a way she rarely was. It wasn��t a good look on her, really. “Does this cat belong to anyone in the class?”

No one spoke or raised their hand and Shouta watched as Nemuri’s eyes narrowed, her hand straying towards the whip at her side. Shouta couldn’t fault her for the reaction seeing as he was a feral, wild stray sitting on top of the teacher’s desk and looking unnaturally calm, but also, did he look that different as a cat?

‘Hey, hey, I’m basically still wearing my hero outfit and even have all my scars. Are you that oblivious?’

Nemuri took a step forward and Shouta ran, jumping off the desk and leaping for the still open window, paws landing on the grass for only half a second before he was sprinting towards the forest and putting distance between him and Nemuri.

For as good a friend and hero she was, Nemuri tended to act first and ask questions far, far later. Considering Kouda wasn’t around to act as translator and all his co-workers were ridiculously blind and stupid, Shouta realized it would be best to find Hizashi and get him on his side, first.

While it was possible it would take a short while for Hizashi to realize it was him, Shouta knew the man would get there eventually. Hizashi had been looking at him almost every day for fifteen years, after all. He knew Shouta whether he was human or not. At least… Shouta hoped he did.

Slowing his sprint down to an ambling pace, Shouta hid himself under a grove of trees that were just out of sight unless one knew they were there. The small circle of grass was overgrown and wild and already lit up with warm sunray.

‘It’d probably be best to wait until after classes to track Hizashi down,’ Shouta thought to himself, striding around the clearing and then pausing at the base of one of the trees. The bark was young and still growing, but Shouta saw, almost halfway up, a lopsided heart carved into the tree with two pairs of familiar initials.

Staring at them for a moment, and remembering the day Hizashi had carved them into the tree trunk with the declaration that they would always be friends, Shouta laid himself down under his and Hizashi’s initials with what he wished was a true sigh.

‘I’ll find you soon, Hizashi.’ And he would. He had made that promise long ago to always return to Hizashi, and he wasn’t about to break it now. He would get home.

Someway.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #erasermic #to land on your feet

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porcelaindagger · 6 years

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since this won’t show in the tags from the actual blog

After speaking with some people privately, I had been under the impression that I had been doing a good enough job keeping my head down, minding my own business, and not making a fuss, but it’s evident that this is not the case. I have been back in the community for about a year now as Elle, and since then I have made every effort to use this new alias as an opportunity to turn over a new leaf, make a new start, and be an unobtrusive and altogether quiet presence in the community. I came back simply to write – not to make a fuss or make waves, and I was open and honest about my identity and my past mistakes with those who came to me to ask, and have a small group of people who know that I am Beth, who have known for quite some time now. It was not my intention to “fool” anyone by returning under a different alias, but to exercise the change that I’d implemented in my own life and to show both myself and those who I’d so horribly hurt in the past that I have changed, and that it is possible for people to change for the better. I think the fact that I’ve flown under the radar until now is decent proof that I am not the person I was a year ago; a year ago, I would have gone absolutely nuts in the face of the PSA that’s floating around, and I would have lashed out with irreparable damage – we all saw it happen last time, and it’s because of that that I was so determined not to do it this time. I understand completely why people would not want to be close to me given what I’ve done in the past; I lied, I talked about people behind their back, I pretended to be someone else to hide from what I’d done, I spread slanderous lies about someone who had been nothing but a dear friend to me, and I kept that same friend’s group from receiving the love and praise it deserved simply because I was bitter, paranoid, and malicious in my mindset. I was in a horrid place and going through a downward spiral in which I could not recover from – and though I knew I could not recover, I lashed out and pulled people down with me simply because it was the only option my toxic mindset gave me. I wrecked people who I’d considered family, who’d followed me through hell, high water, and two roleplay groups which ended with my complete meltdown. It was all building up from mistakes I’d made, even before that – in 2013, I copied things from a drabble someone had written; in 2015, I encouraged a friend to write a PSA about another friend simply because I felt that they were drifting from me, and I was so selfish and paranoid that I just couldn’t handle it. I was immature, and felt as if I didn’t have to own up to my mistakes, but as I see the error of hiding from this all and hoping that it’ll just blow over, I think that it’s time for me to put it out there. I was Wesley, I was Beth, and this blog was supposed to be Elle – the new leaf. Elle would never start a positivity blog, only to filter the messages; Elle would never send nasty messages; Elle would never vague blog; Elle would never strongarm someone out of playing the same character; and Elle would certainly never steal, though Beth once thought she could get away with it, and owned up to it.

In my personal life, the last semester has been an absolute trainwreck, and this blog, in my own corner with a small collective of people who I’d told, and in the roleplay groups that I’d chosen to join, was an oasis, and I am incredibly proud of the progress and of the changes that I’ve made in my life, as reflected by my unobtrusive and quiet presence in the RPC. I’ve done my best to be nothing but positive – and those who I’ve found myself close to can attest to that. I never thought of this attempt at a positive new start as an attempt to “trick” anyone with friendship and kindness, and I am so sorry that it’s come across as that, or as anything even remotely underhanded. I hoped that by being Elle and by starting over I could somewhat start to make right the wrong I’d done when I was Beth, and by being kind to those I’d wronged in any way I could, I thought that I was. I never intended for any of this to become a question of lies, victim shaming, or anything of the sort – I was just trying to keep my head down, and mind my own business. I’d even become close friends with one of the people I’d wronged in the past, proving to them that I’d changed before they even knew who I was, and I spoke to another, leaving things on what I assumed was a peaceful note. Perhaps it was a mistake to apply for a character that I’d played so often while I was using my old alias – but I never thought that it would start the wildfire that it did, since I’d been nothing but supportive in doing it. If anyone would like to message me privately, and not anonymously, to discuss the things that I have done, I would be more than willing to do so openly and frankly at my new url, which was created not to hide but to post fandom content rather than rp content without clogging up anyone’s dash.

I do, however, wish to address the claims of plagiarism that have been floating around, as this may be the only chance I have to do so. I understand that everyone’s concerns have merit; I have been a horribly sketchy person in the past, but the claims that are going around now are ones I hold issue with, and I’d like to address them here. Firstly, I’ll start with the claim that I plagiarized an OC from the group I used to run, Fidite Nemini. The character in question is named Holly – I don’t even remember the OC’s last name. A wonderful OC, written by a wonderful person; perhaps the best OC I ever had the pleasure of writing with. But the fact that I also have two characters named Holly is now being called plagiarism, and with this I take issue. First, I have Holly Blanchard, named as such for Holly Golightly. I’ll link her biography HERE. Second is a character in another roleplay that I ran named Holly Gilmore, who was named as such for the plant reference, and because I was going through a heavy Gilmore Girls phase at the time of writing her. Her bio is HERE. I cannot link you to the bio of the OC simply because I deleted the Fidite Nemini main and have no way of finding it. I don’t know where it is, I don’t know what her last name is; the only similarities between these characters is the fact that they’re named Holly and that they’re generally nice, sweet people. I can see how, upon first glance, having a character named Holly might raise some eyebrows, but upon actually reading the bios, it is quite clear that there is no other overlap.

I was also accused of stealing things from the person who played Bellatrix in my group – I cannot link anything here since the Fidite Nemini main has been deleted, but I used, in applying for a Marauders group recently, the bio that I, as an admin, had written as a jumping off point for an application. I’d gone through the old player’s blog to find the biography that I’d written since the main was deleted and I hadn’t saved anything for my own use, and I understand how that must have looked, but had I not deleted everything I could when I left Tumblr the first time. I’d be happy to dig through my google docs and link the application that I’d written up in this post, but I regrettably cannot access the Fidite Nemini bio anymore, or I would. The person who played Bellatrix at Fidite Nemini is, without question, one of the greatest writers I’ve ever had the pleasure of collaborating with, and I must say that it would be very obvious had I stolen from them, as their writing truly stands alone.

I would now like to address the claims that I stole a fair bit of characterization from the user who wrote the PSA about me. I’ll start by saying that yes, I did pin a few of their pins on Pinterest (but I went to a lot of Pinterest boards to create my own), and we have reblogged some of the same things – were I to remain a large presence in the RPC, I would make a point not to reblog musing from anywhere but inspo blogs to avoid this. But I must raise some issue with the claim that I stole a headcanon about sunflowers, a headcanon about running/athleticism, and a FC. I use flower symbolism in a fair number of my applications and characters, and this particular headcanon was written when I read the ProFlowers description of what sunflowers meant (in fact, at the time I was buying flowers for my grandmother, whose birthday I had forgotten, and thought sunflowers might be nice according to the description). I’ll link the headcanon HEREas it includes a link to the article. The running/athleticism headcanon is twofold – the graphic linked HERE is from a quiz which many people in the tag were using, and was therefore not my own doing. But I had put some stock in the character’s athleticism, since it’s both canon that she’d have to be athletic, and because the character is suffering, in the plot, from severe PTSD. It is often recommended to sufferers of PTSD, like myself, and like my combat veteran father, to put much of their anxiety into athleticism, as linked in the headcanon HERE. I put a lot of myself into my characters, and I thought that, as I am dealing with my own battle with PTSD, it would be appropriate to make a point of expanding upon it in the development of a character who very clearly has it. This is not copied and pasted from any blog, nor was it written in an attempt to mimic anyone else’s portrayal. And to insinuate that I am stealing simply because there is overlap in the usage of two face claims is also up for question – I will admit that I did take an interest in Lindsey Morgan as the character because the author of the PSA used her, and I commend you for your excellent FC choice. But the second mentioned, Deborah Ann Woll, is merely a coincidence, and I must take issue with the idea that face claims are exclusive.

In the PSA, it linked things from my old Alice blog that I’d recycled because I am who you all now know I am – were I trying to hide, I wouldn’t have done that. I’d have never been so obvious. I was too optimistic, I suppose, in that I’d kept my head down enough to play this character again, and I truly am so sorry for making you all uncomfortable, and for making you all feel as if I was trying to be devious by going under another alias. All I was doing was trying to mind my own business – and that is what I’m doing now, by turning my writing blog into a simple fandom blog. I’m even further in my corner now, and though I have no intention of leaving my corner, I thought it appropriate to leave this here as both an admittance of everything I’ve done, and a defense of the new character that I’ve built for myself. I understand that the PSA was made to warn people about someone horrible – but I’m not that person anymore. I have nothing but remorse for what I’ve done to those I’ve hurt, and I will never stop regretting the friendships that I destroyed. I considered so many of you my family, and I hurt you. It’s irreparable, and I will never ever stop trying to be a better person because of it. All I wanted was to turn over a new leaf, and to have fun writing with those I could reconnect with, and I apologize from the bottom of my heart for drudging up old hurts. I never want to hurt any of you again, and I never plan to. If anyone wishes to come talk to me about this, so I can explain and own up further, or if you would like a direct apology, I’m now at arhwen. I hope you’re all well, and finish out 2017 well, too.

#rpt #rpc #rph #rp #roleplay

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callioope · 7 years

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I was tagged by @theputterer -- thanks!! this is a more writing-oriented tag meme and i love it

+Where do you publish your work? If “publish” means “post” as in fanfic: AO3 under callioope, and sometimes drabbles on here, which you can find under the ‘writing’ tab. I used to post in other places too, but we don’t talk about those fics.

+What medium/application/etc.? For original stuff that requires more note taking and organization: I’ve used a combo of Microsoft Word & OneNote (for writing and notes, respectively), as well as Scrivener. Basically in OneNote I was trying to do what Scrivener does inherently so I did like using Scrivener for that, but sometimes the text formatting options aren’t as good as Word.

For fics, 100% all in Google Docs. Most of those don’t require an extensive note system so Google Docs is fine, plus allows me to write on my phone when commuting. This has been somewhat problematic for Whatever I Do, which probably would have benefited from being more organized but oh well. The Google doc got too long so I had to separate it into multiple docs and all my notes are a complete mess.

Oh, and I do sometimes hand write to help with writers block and then type it up in the applicable location.

OMG and POST ITS. Yes. I will think up dialogue or narration while at work and scribble it down on a post-it and stuff it in my purse. One day I had 7 post-its, I think that was for my Star Wars ASOIAF au.

I have also been known to write on napkins. Honestly basically any surface that I can write on will do. When the muse strikes, you gotta use what you have.

+Do you collaborate with others? When I was younger I did. Actually my first ever fic was with my best friend in third grade, about Jacen and Jaina Solo.

Recently though, not really. But my sister was so helpful in the plotting of The Last Stark and she beta’d for me, so I often say I consider her the co-author.

+How much editing do you do before you publish? Too much, probably. I edit as I write. I edit when I come back later to write the next scene. I sometimes ask the fiancé to look a chapter over for glaring plotholes. Then I do a preliminary round of revisions. Then I do a final round of proofreading. Then I paste it in to AO3 and reread it again, usually find issues, and make corrections, and finally post.

(It might be pertinent to note, I pretty much started my career as a proofreader.)

Occasionally, a fic will flow out and not undergo rigorous editing. This usually happens when I daydream about it for a few days before writing, so it’s planned in my head when I sit down.

+Do you listen to music? All the time except for while writing. It’s too distracting. I will sometimes play the Cassian Andor playlist and do something mindless (cleaning, computer game, etc.) and let my mind plan out a fic, but I cannot write or read while listening to music.

+How do you decide what to write about? Original stuff: most of my ideas are inspired by bizarre dreams I have and are based on genres I like. Fic just pop into my head, usually with one particular scene or line that bothers me until I sit down and write it. When I was reading the Rogue One novelization I also drew a lot of inspiration from that.

E.g.: Whatever I Do was inspired by a line in the novelization from when Jyn first arrives at the base on Yavin 4. I read this and knew I had to write about Lyra in the temple.

Jyn recalled her mother’s love of history with the faintest of pangs and banished the memory.

+When do you write? At night between 9-11, any free time I have on the weekends, and if I am *very* motivated and inspired, I will write on my commute. This sounds like I am writing more than I am. More often than not, I open the doc to write, stare at the screen blankly, then come on tumblr. Motivation is difficult sometimes.

+How often do you write? I mean, see above answer. I write whenever I have time and whenever I’m inspired. Before I started writing fic, I often went months without writing, then spent a month writing during every free moment. I’ve been more productive this year, but it’s all been fic, not original stuff.

+Do you take requests? Hmm. Objectively I am open to it. My only hesitation would be I have so many other projects going on that I’d be worried about responding in a timely manner and I wouldn’t want to disappoint anyone. I guess I’d be willing to give it a shot, if requests came in.

+Is there a genre or type of story you want to write but are hesitant to? hmm not really. I’ve started projects in all my favorite genres (fantasy, sci-fi, pirate/adventure). Oh, maybe smut? I don’t have a strong desire to write it, but I’ve tried a couple times and just gave up. It feels weird to write, idk, too personal.

+Any inspirational quotes, videos, tricks, articles, etc that help you stay motivated? “Perfect is the enemy of good enough.” This is what my dad likes to tell me because I am a perfectionist. I get hung up on little things and don’t move forward.

+Go to page 7 of your WIP, skip to the 7th line, and share 7 sentences: A little more than 7 sentences just because (fun fact! this was from one of my deleted scenes I plundered when I had writer’s block):

“Yes—sure—all those things!” It bursts out of her. So like her daughter. She’ll grip what burns, a grenade, an overheated blaster, a scorching baton that blisters under the sun, but she won’t touch what’s soft. She’ll leave it to collect in the corner, rags and shreds of her heart, just so she doesn’t have to feel. “Where he comes from matters. Who his parents are matters. When and how and why he joined the rebellion—it all matters, those things all matter to me, they made me who I am and—and…”

Lyra reaches out and places her hand on Jyn’s shoulder. “And what do you know about him?”

“I…” Her brow furrows and she looks away. But Lyra can see her eyes soften, that in her head, her daughter sees a string of moments she’s shared with him, she sees the reasons she already loves Cassian Andor.

Tagging: @lustfulpasiphae, @rxbxlcaptain, @jeeno2 & anyone who sees this and writes

#tag meme #my writing

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akaanonymouth · 7 years

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Things I’m Working On...

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever…

I’ve not been tagged, but I was making a list of things I’m writing because I’m driving myself insane opening 43 docs and forgetting what idea/ story/ whatever goes where and then spending more time reading and cutting things than actually writing so…. what better place to make a note! (It may be a loooong note! I mean, like, I’m talking through my ideas here because nothing’s actually finished, so feel free to wither jump in and provide input, or just keep scrolling now!) Berena

Berena and the Fletchlings: As you may know, one little “Berena dancing in the kitchen” idea escalated into a 7,000odd word fluff fest involving the Fletchlings, then Berena took them all swimming, and now my brain seems to insist on inserting some Fletchling interaction at almost every opportunity, so I named it a series, and since I named it a series, I haven’t managed to finish a single idea, haha! But, here’s what I got in the pipeline: (Actually I will put this under a cut to save people’s dashes, because I have a lot of ideas to work through and I’ve apparently lost a verbal filter alongside gaining a mental health issue, who knew! Sorry! Anyhoo:

-Evie’s Birthday: She wants to attend a festival. Fletch is dead set against it, Evie’s obviously having a meltdown, so is Fletch, Serena steps in. Decides to throw a mini fest in her house/ garden, and gets most Holby staff involved. Bernie convinces Charlotte to come, because Charlotte can play guitar and sing, and Elinor is also persuaded, because she can sing and play piano and Serena’s set up a gazebo like a stage, but there’s also a piano in the living room, and it turns out Bernie can also play the piano because have you seen her hands?! Anyway, they have mad fun all day, Ric and Sacha do an ‘oldie’ set, etc etc. I’ll stop there with all the details otherwise no one will want to read it when it finally gets done properly! But it’ll include Bernie and Serena dancing, to new and old songs, and Ellie is all like “eww” but Evie’s all moon-eyes and explains what she sees to Ellie, and Charlotte is persuaded by Cam to play an acoustic version of his favourite song and…. basically a lot of Bernie and Serena eye sex, slow dancing in bubbles they create for themselves, and Evie just being crazy about her OTP. I haven’t decided yet if Berena are established, or whether it should be another sort of “intervention/ dawning realisation” type thing, so if anyone wants to add their thoughts, or message me for more details, PLEASE feel free to!

- Bra shopping: I was going to keep the “fletchlings” series relatively angst-free, but this one, canon-compliant with Elinor’s death, is bugging me. Serena promises to take Evie bra shopping; does take Evie bra shopping on the following Saturday. Bernie goes with them. It’s Mother’s Day the next day, and they see shops full of Mother’s Day paraphernalia etc. They have a lovely time shopping but towards the end, melancholy/ anger/ grief sets in, so Bernie does little things to keep them in the here and now, not really knowing what else to do. When they’re heading home, they detour through the park, and come across Mikey in an altercation with a few other older boys. They’re picking on him, and Bernie steps in (BMAM!) and they start to take the piss, but she sends them off, then Mikey turns his anger onto her, and she encourages him (a bit like the speech she gave Serena in the toilets) and he fights her; breaks down; they head back to Serena’s. There’s silent cuddles, angst, but loving. Etc and all that.

- The as-yet-wholly-unformed-idea whereupon Evie still wants to move in with Serena, is in love with Berena, as in, the actual ship, as well as them as individuals, and loves spending time with them. She’s made aware that maybe she is intruding, so she tries not to encroach so much, but Bernie messages her asking if she wants to go to the cinema one night, and she just… Yeah, The One Where Evie is the Berena Fandom Incarnate (and gets to bask in their presence for weekends at a time). May tie this in with the drabble I wrote about Evie giving Serena a friendship bracelet after Elinor died, with green for Bernie weaved through it, then she does the same for Bernie.

If anyone has any Berena + Fletchlings ideas they’d like to see written, pop me a line, and I’ll try my best :)

Untitled WIP:

1) Comedy of sorts. Half the hospital staff are sick to the back teeth of Serena and Bernie tiptoeing around each other, because please, as much as they both liked to preach from their pedestals that they were only being professional and didn’t want the hospital, the trauma unit, AAU, the patients, the bloody agency nurse who turned up now and again to suffer, suffer they were. Especially those that kept stumbling into the middle of serious eye fucking sessions and half-finished sentences. It had to stop. In which Zosia’s taken it upon herself to be Bernie’s fairy godmother (and if she gets a good few snogs out of Jac along the way, all the better), and the staff come up with, frankly, ludicrous ways to get B&S together, even employing Mrs. B as a seductress. Why no one just talked to Jason, I don’t know…

2) If Holby writers can steal Doctors on The Roof from ER, then I can steal Stinky the dog from it, and give him a storyline with Serena and Bernie. (Or, The One where Serena gains a dog and a Wolfe). Kerry Weaver ended up taking home a dog called Stinky from a tramp that died, and I’ve apparently based a whole story on that idea. Also I love Kerry Weaver.)

3) In which Serena loses the point of Texas Hold ‘Em because she’s too busy wondering what Texas holds, exactly? Bernie tells her to add it to her Google list….. And I’ve lost the plot a bit with this one, but Im sure it’ll come back (or it is already here, trapped in the wrong document!)

3) Smut fic. Pure smut. There is nothing but smut. I mean, at a push, it could be described as character exploration through sexual situations, character development via sex…. basically I’m just writing a multi-chap fic about Serena and Bernie having sex in the here-and-now, and harking back to various ‘first-time’s’ as it comes up in their conversation. (Can I work “fight on your feet or die on your knees” into this? I think I can. I can see Serena saying this.) 4) Smut fic. Yes, like the above. But, I found I was thinking about their lives post-Elinor death, and what impacts that would have. This is a bit darker. Not harrowing, and with as happy ending as anyone could have with a dead child, but still, dark enough to warrant being a separate story.

5) The obligatory stuck-in-a-lift-fic that I have never written for any of my OTPs before, so feel it’s beyond time that I give it a go. Mingling it with the “sweaty, vigorous passion” episode, substituting Raf for Bernie :)

6) Angst. In which Bernie uses Jason to determine Serena’s mental state, because whatever is happening, Serena does not lie to Jason. Wrote the idea for this when Elinor first died, so I don’t know if I’ll finish. Just a one-shot, to try to explain to myself where their relationship was, where Bernie’s level of concern was at, at the time.

7) After a whole day of being majorly, ridiculously excited about the post, I am writing a perfume-based story haha!

8) I’m not technically working on this one, because I don’t watch Dr Who religiously, and I’m not a massive, massive fan, but I couldn’t get rid of this thought: Serena is all bitter and sad, and Kate Stewart turns up like “Somewhere in your memory is a woman called Bernie Wolfe….” In order to be happy and save herself (and Holby or the world, if that’s your bag) Serena must remember Bernie, must remember her timeline for her actual reality to realign again, because Bernie is Serena’s soulmate, but not only that, Bernie and Serena’s relationship has a direct impact on Kate’s lineage (or something, it’s all about the timey-wimey shit that I haven’t figured out) and so Serena absolutely has to remember that Bernie was wiped from her memory, because it’s the only thing that’ll bring her back. I’m probably never going to even attempt to start this one, but I would read the shit out of it if anyone could do it?!

9) I nearly forgot about this one! Actresses AU. Whereupon Serena and Bernie, and the rest of the cast, are the actors in a medical drama. Serena and Bernie’s story remains theirs, but there are eerie similarities between them and their character storylines. Bernie remains married for much longer, her character is written out of the show they play in for an indefinite amount of time because she does a moonlight flit, etc. Angst, slow burn. Not entirely sure how this will play out; it’s one I think I’d like to finish completely before posting.

Aaaand I’ll end there. Maybe I’ll do a separate post for the HP, DWP and ER fics that I’ve either temporarily (does 7 years count as temporary?!) abandoned, completely lost, or thought so much about that I think they already exist and am horrifically surprised when they do not (hello, me Voyager fics, too, haha!)

Not tagging anyone, but I’m always grateful to read what other people are up to! God bless anyone that’s made it this far!

#anonymouth #writing #too many ideas not enough time or confidence to follow them through #berena fic

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littlemissmeggie · 7 years

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all prime numbers for that ask meme?

oh my gosh, i had to google prime numbers because it’s honestly been about twelve years since i last had to think about what “prime numbers” meant and what numbers were actually prime numbers.

anyway…

2. Favorite part of writing: i love when i have the big “aha!” moments when i think of a plot point or a scene or even a line of dialogue that fills in a gap i’d been struggling with, whether it’s a gap that really needed to be filled in or was one that nobody but me noticed. and i love when i think of little details to weave into my story that i feel add vibrancy to the story, whether readers notice them or not.

3. Least favorite part of writing: i hate when i get stuck in one spot and i can’t seem to get past it. like, i’ll know what’s supposed to happen next because i have it all outlined and even have specifics of the next bit sketched out but i can’t seem to get over the hump of the part i’m working on, either because i can’t turn my thoughts and ideas from the outline and drafts into words that actually flow together and sound nice or because i just keep staring at my computer screen without any motivation to write.

5. Books or authors that influenced your style the most: definitely j.k. rowling but mario puzo in a big big way. agatha christie probably, too. the godfather most definitely has impacted my writing style.

7. Favorite author: mario puzo

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish: drabbles and short oneshots often just start as a blank google doc, though i usually write at least a couple lines in my notebook; it’s usually the prompt or basic idea, i.e. cornerstone or high school golf!narry + artist!zayn. longer fics, like a little drop for me start as a page in my notebook with basic plot and story idea and then have a list of main characters, a list of settings and locations, and a list of scene ideas that came to mind as i was working through my first page of plot ideas. then i work through "character interviews" and identify the conflict/resolution, major plot points, and the main character(s) objective(s) and stuggles/obstacles achieving their goal. after all of that, i write a handwritten rough draft, outlining the entire story. i start with a typed first draft after that, filling in blanks and adding proper dialogue and adding descriptions of characters and settings from my "character interviews" and location descriptions. i go back through and work out plot holes and any parts i don't like or feel need to be reworked and then do a final draft with editing. the notes feature on google docs and post-it notes to add bits and pieces to my handwritten outline are my best friends when i'm writing.

13. How do you deal with writers block? with longer stories, i often go back to the beginning and reread what i’ve written. it sometimes helps me because, as i’m reading along and picturing the story and the characters and places, i can see what should happen next or gain more insight into what a character was thinking or feeling or find a little breadcrumb that i may have missed the first time around that can sometimes become the catalyst for what i’m missing. i also like to go back to my outline for the same reasons. if all else fails, i take a day off from writing or work on an unrelated drabble or short oneshot to get myself out of whatever universe i’ve been wrapped up in.

17. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day? it really depends on my “real life,” unfortunately. sometimes i can only write 500 words and sometimes i can write 4,000 and sometimes i look blankly at the open google doc until i decide nothing’s going to come to me and give up for the day. at the height of writing my last fic, though, i was writing about 3,000 to 5,000 words a day.

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on: “Holy shit, Z,” said Niall, reaching out to smack his friend on the arm.

23. Single or multi POV, and why? i write in third-person omniscient. i don’t try to write in that style, it’s just what seems the most natural to me. i feel that i’m very much in each character’s mind and am considering every character’s emotions and thoughts when i’m creating my story so it seems natural to show insight into everyone’s, or almost everyone’s, point of view.

29. Who do you write for? me. i like to write stories that i enjoy going back to read. and i write because it’s an enjoyable hobby that challenges me and that i can improve upon.

31. Hardest character to write: i wrote several short stories that focused on my relationship with one of my cousins and were sort of “what-if” situations—fictionalized events in some sort of weird AU of my own life—that have and never will be posted or published anywhere. only one person has ever read them other than me. and i found that writing myself was the most difficult character to write.

37. Most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you: really, just about anything robin williams ever said. but i’ve always been partial to one of his lines from the movie dead poets society. “no matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world.”

41. How many stories do you work on at one time? i usually only write one story at a time, though i’ll sometimes write a drabble or a short oneshot while i’m working on a longer story. as i mentioned in question #13, i often try to deal with writer’s block by getting out of the story and focusing on something else for a bit.

43. Are you an avid reader? i used to be when i was younger; as a kid and teenager and young adult, i read a book a week. since my mid-20s, though, i’ve not read as much. my goal for the summer is to reread the harry potter series, the godfather, and the last don.

47. Do you start with characters or plot when working on a new story? since i mostly write fanfiction, my characters already sort of partially exist anyway, so i start with my basic plot and storyline before going back to shape my characters to fit around the story. when i write non-fanfiction, i feel like my plot and characters sort of form simultaneously.

53. What does writing mean to you? i went to school and got a degree and then a career in a profession that isn’t my true passion but is something i like well enough and am very very good at and knew i would always be able to find a job doing. but music and writing have always been my two biggest passions, as well as things i’m rather good at. so writing sort of gives me a sense of fulfillment, and engages my creative side, in a way that my “real” job doesn’t. and since it’s something i can constantly improve and, between researching topics for my stories and reading through thesauraus.com and dictionary.com and reading through writing blogs for tips on writing outlines and proper grammar and punctuation, etc, allows me to learn so much, it’s a welcome challenge that’s a much better “hobby” and use of my free time than just scrolling mindlessly through tumblr or watching television.

(sorry this took so long to answer! my real life has been a bit busy with my work schedule! and i try to keep my tumblr use to no more than 15 minutes at a time during the summer to keep myself from getting sucked in for too long. i work a lot from may to october and i don't like to spend all of my free time scrolling through tumblr.)

#Anonymous #meggie talks #meggie writes

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