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badbookreviewclub · 4 years

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Compete Review - Stones to Abbigale, by Onision

Disclaimer: This review will contain spoilers… if you haven’t already watched the seven billion book reviews there are for Stones to Abbigale. I won’t be linking to where you can buy this book because I don’t want to support Greg… James… whatever the fuck he’s going by now. If you look hard enough, you can find it for free online.

Stones to Abbigale is the first book published by Onision. I’m sure we already all know about Onision and how horrible he is, if not I highly recommend going to Youtube and watching The Right Opinion’s videos on him. They’re very enlightening as to the kind of person that Greg is. Anyways, this review isn’t about Onision (kind of), it’s about his book. I couldn’t figure out where the book was published, aside from a small stamp at the very last page just saying it was published via Amazon.

The Summary: There isn’t one. Fuck. The Characters: James - Simp who likes to act like he’s the hero, but also the victim. Definitely Onision’s self-insert.

Abbigale (Abbi) - A very traumatized person who is written very poorly

Jason - The jock who’s there to make James look like the victim but also the hero

Davis - a character who has no impact on the story and could be completely written out. His presence affects nothing.

Ms. Robertson - The school counselor who could never actually be a school counselor Mr. Hanson - The history teacher

The Problems: Aside from a multitude of grammatical errors and some spelling errors, this book is just a mess. The characters are incredibly inconsistent to the point of being unrealistic (e.g. one moment Jason is the bad guy and the next he’s James’s best friend). Actually, in general, none of these characters are realistic. It’s really easy to read this story in Greg’s voice because it all sounds just like him. They speak with the same mannerisms that he does and like they all read a psychology book in fifth grade and now they think that they know everything about people and how they work. It’s annoying and incredibly frustrating, actually.

Another big problem that this book faces is that everything is written in big blocks of text, without regard for needing commas or periods. This makes reading dialogue incredibly difficult and at times can make it really hard to decipher just who is talking. I’m convinced after reading Stones to Abbigale that Onision doesn’t know what the enter bar is. Take this for example, “As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look, as I normally didn’t walk her that far, I said, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you, we have the same class now.’ She replied, ‘Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick.’ I said, ‘Not if you drop Mrs. Stanley.’ She pushed me playfully saying ‘Jealous!’” Let’s split the dialogue up now (and add in proper punctuation.

As we got closer to the gym Abbi was giving me a funny look; I normally didn’t walk her this far. “Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. We have the same class now,” I said. “Manipulating your schedule to be with someone sounds like stalking Mr. Patrick,” she replied. “Not if you drop Mrs. Stanely,” I said. She pushed me playfully, “Jealous!”

This is a lot easier to read and aside from word choice, it’s not terrible. It could paint a picture a lot easier with better word choice, but this is Onision’s first book so I guess I can cut him a tiny tiny tiny bit of slack on that. Actually, no. This could use better word choice to paint a better picture and make them seem less like cardboard cutouts.

Another problem is the plot itself. The ‘climax’ of the book, if you will, happens almost at the beginning of the book, which is fucking absurd. It makes the rest of the book feel pointless and like it’s dragging on.

The Book:

Chapter 1

We meet our main character, James. Except we don’t know his name is James yet. We do know that he paints his walls, his ceiling, and even his bedframe a startling white however because he “likes to inflict mental torture” on himself. Not sure why he does this, but he does. I think I’ll be the first to say that in any white suburban neighborhood, you could walk into just about most children’s rooms and find white as the standard (at least, that’s how it is in my neighborhood). Why? Fuck if I know. White just looks nice with most furniture, I guess.

Anyways, our main character is late to school and rushes out the doors with a note he scribbled for an excuse as to why he was late. Yay, we finally get James’s name from Mr. Hanson, who couldn’t give less of a shit that James was late. He just wants to talk to him after class. James starts people watching to an almost creepy extent, trying to get into people’s heads and assuming what they were thinking. If you haven’t read any of my other reviews, you should know, I am not overly fond of when someone tries to assume someone else’s thoughts in this way. Where they psychoanalyze them without have a single hint of qualification. It’s annoying in storytelling. That’s not to say I’m not guilty of having a character do that at times, but I’m trying to be more aware of it and to stop writing like that. With how James is written, however, it’s clearly intentionally and gives off r/im14andthisisdeep vibes.

Anyways, James rushes off to art class so he can see Abbi. He has never talked to Abbi a day in his life but spends a lot of his time thinking about her and wanting to be with her and basically, just being a simp. He puts too much value on Abbi without ever having talked to her and having no reason to do it, his world revolves around Abbi and she has never so much as shared a word with him.

But he’s basically staring at Abbi, waiting to say something to her when his hand brushes up against some chewed up gum under the desk and he yells ‘EW’. This doesn’t stop Abbi from wanting to pair up with him however when the teacher gives them an assignment they need partners for. Abbi was originally paired up with Jason, who I guess makes Abbi uncomfortable. That’s understandable that Abbi would want to switch if that was the case, but Onision doesn’t lay it out like that. Instead, it’s laid out that Abbi wants to be paired with James just because.

Abbi has shown no care for James at the beginning of the book and seemingly before this even started she never seemed to care for or about James. Suddenly though, as soon as the story starts, she cares. She wants to, needs to be with and around him. Why? Because the main character always has to get the girl.

Anyways, Abbi gives James a piece of paper with ‘NISEONE’ written on it. Apparently, this is her phone number because, on a number pad (the ones with the letters), it is 647-3663. It doesn’t state this outright, so it took me looking at some other reviews before I figured this out.

We also learn in this chapter that the school is practically falling apart and is dripping with sludge or mold, or something, so I don’t know what kind of school James goes to, but it’s not a good one.

Chapter 2

James goes and talks to Mr. Hanson and it turns out that Mr. Hanson wants James for a TA position. Because ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? I guess James shows a lot of potential, even though he’s late like… all the time. Anyways, the night before Abbi and James decided to make, not a Frankenstein(‘s monster) teddy bear by combining two of their stuffed animals, rather, they’re making a zombie stuffed animal. And it turns out that Abbi wasn’t at class. For what reason? I don’t fucking know. The next day Jason comes to bug the class for some fucking reason because he got kicked out of his own class. There’s absolutely no reason for Jason to be there aside for James to stand up to him because Jason was ‘bullying’ Mr. Hanson. Anyways, Jason gets pissed off because of this and while James is on his way to the art class, Jason beats James up. I’m pretty sure this was only done to make James look like the victim (wonderful :P). James gets suspended for two days because he pushed Jason and Jason is suspended for nine days.

Before he can leave to go home, James sees Abbi and Seth having what I can only assume is a one-sided fight. Seth is yelling and being very aggressive towards Abbi, and Abbi is just taking it. So James walks her home after Seth gets pissed and leaves. I guess it was raining this entire time, so as they’re walking home, Abbi’s makeup runs and James sees the bruises on her face. When Abbi asks if James sees them, he says “I see a beautiful girl, who I very much enjoy walking with in the rain” (pg 31) (by the way I HAD TO NUMBER ALL THESE PAGES MYSELF). Anyways, cheesy romance, it’s clear Greg doesn’t read his lines out loud and I don’t think James does a single thing to try and help Abbi get out of her abusive situation. He just tells her that she’s beautiful. James is also absurdly upset about the suspension at this point. Like, ridiculously upset. Like you love school so much and the thought of not being able to go feels like the end of the world upset (I was that person in school). But… James has shown absolutely no reason for why he is as upset as he is? Like he genuinely is about to cry over this but he has shown absolutely no care about school before, so it’s just confusing.

Chapter 3

James has a dream that Abbi is being eaten by the ground. He wakes up and writes her a kind of creepy letter about how, despite having only had three conversations with her, he loves her and lives to be with her. He emails it to her and a few minutes later Abbi calls him. She wasn’t aware of the email but invites him to meet her at the Quick Shop. She says that she’ll read the email before she meets him there. She never meets him there (shocker). Chapter 4

James finally goes back to school and sees that Abbi isn’t in the art trailer still. But the mishmash stuffed animal bear thing is there. Under it is a note from Abbi asking James to meet her behind the church. Rather than stay for the class or anything like that, James bursts away to go to Abbi’s side.

Abbi tells James that the note weirded her out a little bit, but she was just nervous. She tells him that she has been absurd by Seth and that her mother abandoned her and that her father doesn’t care about her. The only comfort James is able to offer her is that every time he sees her, she’s more beautiful to him than she was before.

Chapter 5

James’ Mom has a boyfriend who comes out of fucking nowhere named Rick.

At school, James has his schedule rearranged so he can be Mr. Hanson’s TA and so he can still have a class with Abbi. Now he has gym with her. We meet Mr. Mack, who I guess is Jason’s uncle. He’s also the only teacher that James bonds with, I guess. Ms. Robertson, while reorganizing James’ schedule gives him an ominous warning that Abbi is no good and that he should stay away from her.

Abbi and James spend the rest of the night on the phone, talking to each other.

Chapter 6

A few days have passed. Rick and James’ mom announce that they want to move in together. James thinks his life is over and that he’ll never get to see Abbi again. Later that night James suggests to his mom that she just let him live in the house by himself with Abbi and she just agrees to it. Supposedly his mom doesn’t even have enough money to get him a shitty cell phone either, so I guess Rick must be fucking loaded.

Chapter 7

It’s the infamous school shooting. After figuring out that the school is being shot up by Seth, the bus driver does as any rational human being would do and drives away to get everyone to safety. Then he does something that nobody would do and lets James off the bus after James threatens to jump off (despite there being no way that he could?). James rollerblades to the school through the blur of his tears and bursts in. He sits in the puddle of blood in front of the school to get his rollerblades off before rushing in through his tears to find Abbi. He finds Seth first, but rather than being the one to save the day, it’s Jason who saves the day and beats the shit out of Seth. James finds Abbi after this and the two of them sit together while the paramedic patches up James’ feet because he ran through glass while looking for Abbi. Chapter 8

They’re back at school and a spokesman for the president gives a speech. They see Mr. Mack on a projector and he tells them in gruesome detail about how he tried to take down Seth and how Seth shot him. Definitely what a bunch of traumatized teenagers needed to hear and see. Chapter 9 James and Abbi go to her house, where Abbi’s father drunkenly stumbles out and starts threatening Abbi. A policeman who James claims probably sees too much of this on a daily basis stands to the side (because he just so happened to be nearby with is K-9 partner) and waits for something to happen. Something happens with Abbi’s father smashes James over the head with a beer bottle. The K-9 rushes forward and latches on to him and James claims that the officer is sadistic and likes to see people suffer. He then claims not even two paragraphs later that the cop is numb to what’s going on. Which is it? Is he sadistic or is he a dead-beat cop who sees too much of this shit?

Abbi’s father is arrested and James decides to press charges. This is how Abbi ends up staying with James.

Chapter 10

The president shows up and nothing comes of it. He promised that he would answer everyone’s questions and talk to everyone. He only talks to two people, James and another kid, named Chris. Chris just asked why the president was such a D-Bag and the president just says “that’s President D-Bag to you.” James asked what the president thought of what people said about him and the president goes on this long diatribe about freedom of speech.

Chapter 11

Abbi wants to talk to James but insists that they do it in the shower. For some reason, James agrees to this and Abbi comes out of the shower to show all of her self-harm scars. Once again, James does nothing than tell her she’s beautiful and that’s about it. They almost fuck after this, but don’t because James’s mom is home.

Chapter 12

James and Abbi stay home to help his mom pack. Later they go to the park to stargaze and affirm to each other that they want kids.

Chapter 13

Abbi leaves James a big long note for him to read in class about how she was raped by some boys. Mrs. Roberston helped to get those boys in jail, but after finding out that Abbi was pregnant, she insisted that Abbi keep the baby because she is very pro-life. Seth found out about the baby and punched Abbi in the stomach until she miscarried. James’ response to the note is to go straight to Abbi’s classroom and make out with her in front of everyone and on the desk. He goes back to history class and Mr. Hanson basically high-five’s him for doing this, despite the fact that he walked out in the middle of class to do it.

Chapter 14

It’s Christmas break. They fuck.

Chapter 15

James beats the shit out of Jason because Jason was groping Abbi. For some reason, when the principle comes out to confront everyone about this, Jason doesn’t rat on James.

Chapter 16

While driving somewhere with James and Abbi, Davis rushes out of the car into the middle of the freeway because he sees a man hanging from a rope from an overpass. Davis is killed. This is the only purpose that Davis serves in the entire story. It’s to die so James can be the victim once more because apparently if he was never born so he could never be in Davis’ life then this would have never happened. Survivor’s guilt is a thing, don’t get me wrong. But what Onision is using here isn’t survivor’s guilt. It’s James twisting the situation so he’s the victim still.

Chapter 17

Davis’s funeral. Nothing happens besides James playing the victim some more.

Chapter 18

Mr. Hanson and Mrs. Roberston confront James and they want him to become Class President. James doesn’t want to but it doesn’t seem like they’ll take no for an answer. A little while later Abbi, while walking with James, is pulled into the front office for some questioning by police. Mrs. Roberston shouts in front of everyone that Abbi was responsible for the school shooting. Because… you know… that’s a reasonable thing to do…

Abbi confronts James later that night and tells him that she wrote in a note to Seth, when she was in a really bad place, that she just wished everyone would disappear (not unreasonable and something I’ve done before). James, being the little bitchy drama-queen that he is, storms off to take a dramatic shower. While sitting in the shower though he realizes that Abbi did nothing wrong and comes back. Abbi immediately accepts him again and isn’t upset that he suddenly stormed off after she told him something rather hard for her to do. They make out (and probably fuck).

Chapter 19

Abbi gets a bucket of paint thrown on her while she’s coming into the school and James punches the kid who did it. The principle shows up and both intimidates and threatens the kid who threw the bucket of paint. He also calls Mrs. Roberston into his office after James tells him that she told everyone that Abbi was responsible for the shooting.

Chapter 20

Mrs. Roberstson was fired and burned down the entire school in retaliation. All the students get passing grades for the rest of the year (which is about 6 months of school left by the way). James ends off the book by saying “Well, I guess this means I won’t be running for President.”

The book drags and has a lot of pointless info in it. At one point it genuinely made me feel sick how he was using Abbi’s trauma throughout the book to write a very, very poorly conceived hero fantasy. All the characters are unrealistic and nobody means anything to the story other than Abbi and James. I’m just glad it was a fast read. There are huge info dumps in the beginning, but as you can see, the rest of the chapters can be summed up in less than a fucking paragraph. The climax of the book comes way too early (the school shooting) and in general, it’s just a poorly written plot. It feels like a first draft that should have been taken back to the drawing board to be reworked until the shooting could become the ultimate climax of the book. It was rushed, and because it was rushed, the rest of the book dragged on. 1/10 stars. I didn’t hate it as much as I’ve hated other books, but it wasn’t good by any stretch of the imagination.

#bad book #bad book reviews #stones to abbigale #onision #i'm numb #previous book reviews have numbed me to this pain #review #reviewblr #bookblr #complete review

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mothmanhamlet · 4 years

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A Few Angsty Haikus

Analogical, 2584 words, high school au, fluffffffff, I don’t think there are any warnings to speak of.

Roman gets Virgil to use his services to ask out his crush. Bad poetry ensues.

Roman Prince was many things. He was a jock, a self proclaimed “Matchmaking God”, and the biggest theater nerd Virgil had ever known. Most importantly, Roman would be dead if he didn’t stop begging Virgil in the next 30 seconds.

“Come onnnnnn, please,” Roman begged. They were pinning flyers for Roman’s new “business” idea to the corkboard outside of their math class. Or rather, Roman was pinning flyers, Virgil was just there for moral support. Moral support apparently included attempts at making him Roman’s first customer.

“No,” Virgil said, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall.

“Listen, it benefits both of us! I need my services to get out into the world and you happen to be the perfect candidate!” Roman reasoned, moving his hands a concerning amount for someone who was holding sharp objects.

The services in question were a complicated list of steps Roman called a “confession session”. The idea was that someone filled out the application and Roman would plan out an elaborate display of something that he promised would be spectacularly romantic.

“No. Absolutely not.” Virgil didn’t even bother looking at Roman, his eyes were too busy scanning around the hallway. School ended not even two minutes ago, so there were still people there. He looked to see who could see him, who could see the poster. Pitifully, Logan was still there, Virgil’s super-genius crush. If Logan saw that poster, his opinion of Virgil would immediately drop. He was too good for that kind of thing.

Roman, sadly, caught Virgil looking just a little too long at Logan and got a brilliant idea. “Well I say you should get a second opinion. Oh Lo-”

Virgil’s hand practically flew to Roman’s mouth, nearly tackling him in the process. Logan, thankfully, didn’t move an inch.

“Do it and you’re dead,” Virgil whispered through gritted teeth. Against his palm, Virgil heard a muffled noise that sounded something like “But can you stop me?”. He looked back at Logan, who was still trying to fit three books and a globe into his already full backpack, and then at Roman, who was looking at Virgil with his eyebrows raised as if to say, “Your move”. At least if he let Roman do this, the embarrassment would be delayed.

“I’ll say yes if you don’t yell when I remove my hand.” Roman nodded and Virgil released his grip on his face, slight red marks where he had pressed rather aggressively. Roman pulled out his phone and started typing.

“I’m emailing you a link to the website. Fill out the form so I can make it spectacular!” Roman said, all too cheery for someone who had to blackmail him into doing it. Virgil just rolled his eyes and started walking down the hallway, trying to shake the small bits of attention that their (rather loud) conversation had gained.

****

Virgil sat down on the purple bean bag chair in his cluttered room and reached for his computer. It was a light grey color and covered in various stickers, his headphones a permanent fixture in its side. He clicked on the link and was immediately redirected to a flashy red and gold website that used hearts like they were commas and used clip art that probably hadn’t seen the light of day since the 90’s. Roman was creative, but sometimes his execution was subpar and unfortunately this was one of those times. Virgil leaned back and read over the questions.

1. What is your prospective boyfriend/girlfriend/datemate’s favorite love song?

2. What type of flower best encapsulates their personality?

3. Balloons, streamers, confetti, or all?

The rest of the questions followed suit in a similar fashion, and there were a lot. Maybe 30 or so until Virgil got to the end of the application.

“Who the hell has a favorite kind of sprinkle?” Virgil muttered to himself, trying to work through the questions. Even more surprising than how specific the questions were, was that Virgil actually knew most of the answers. He had never really bought into the whole pining-after-someone-he’d-never-met thing (pretending he even had a choice in the matter), so obviously he had to fall for his lab partner/project partner/person he sat next to in every class. Apparently the teachers thought it was funny to pair up the kid named “Sanders” and the one named “Saunders”. It was that, or just some alphabetization. Either way, it meant they had spent a lot of time together in their first three years of high school. Logan was distant at first, but after a while they opened up to each other. Which was a little weird because Virgil was pretty much the world’s worst lab partner, always assuming so strongly what would happen and planning to mess up, which in turn tended to mess them up. Now they seemed to talk about anything and everything, Virgil’s speaking ability permitted. Logan loved tea and Sherlock and classic literature (Victorianism not Romanticism) and jam and being right and debates and space. He really loved space. Whenever anyone brought up space his eyes lit up and it practically made Virgil’s heart do backflips. He was just glad one of the questions wasn’t “what do you like about them?” because Virgil could have written an essay. What was there, however, was far worse.

27. Write 10-20 poems about them.

Now Virgil was an emo nightmare of a person, but he did deviate from the trend in one key factor: He couldn’t write poems. No angsty sonnets for him, no haikus about suffering, no half-baked attempts to write his own songs. Nothing.

Virgil got up from his comfortable chair and started sifting through boxes on the floor, looking for something he’d rather forget. Underneath one particularly dusty pile of biology notes, he found what he’d been looking for, a beat up composition notebook that had served as his 6th grade English notebook. He flipped through the pages, stopping when he finally found the page labeled “poetry rules”. How he remembered this page, he had no idea, but was at least partially thankful for it.

Haikus: 3 lines. 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables. Doesn’t have to rhyme.

Well that seemed easy enough.

****

Your eyes look really nice

Magnified by your glasses

Blue as the ocean

Your hair looks fluffy

I want to touch it sometimes

So soft and shiny

****

Logan anticipated a lot of things. He anticipated his AP World History teacher to say something dull or ignorant during class. He anticipated the way his earl grey would taste every morning, bitter with hints of citrus. He even, on occasion, anticipated the perpetrator in his mystery novels, attempting to figure it out before the detective did. What Logan did not anticipate was two of his friends running towards him before he could enter school for the day.

“Logan, something absolutely delightful happened inside,” Dolos said, dressed in a peculiar combination of a suit and rubber gloves. Remus nodded vigorously next to him, munching on what seemed to be frosting in an empty deodorant bottle.

“There’s something inside your locker Nerdy Wolverine!” Remus said, making an attempt at teasing out his own curiosity while simultaneously applying a neon green fake mustache to his upper lip.

“Remus, if it is rats again, I am really not interested, especially after last time-” Logan began, thinking back to the year they had decided to share a locker.

“Of course. Because we totally put it in there,” Dolos interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“I personally think it’s a jar full of angry hornets that’s set to break when you open your locker, releasing into the school and stinging everyone but Dolos says that’s “unrealistic” because he’s no fun,” Remus said, waving his hands around to simulate a hornet infestation.

“But if you didn’t put anything there, how do you know there is something in there to begin with?” Logan asked.

“There was a sign on your locker,” Dolos said, gesturing to the door, “But don’t worry, it’s super tasteful.” With that, the two walked off, snickering. Despite the fact that school started in 20 minutes, they walked away from school.

Logan arrived at his locker, not knowing what exactly to prepare for. What he found, was his locker covered in dark blue paper hearts, “There’s a surprise inside” written on them. It was more distinctive than he would have liked, but it certainly wasn’t the worst thing he could have come across. The hearts managed not to cover his lock, so he could easily open his locker, however what was on the inside proved the hearts correct, for it was definitely a surprise.

His locker was covered along the walls, flowers, candy, and streamers occupying any blank space along the sides. In the back of his locker, there was blue poster paper with words Logan didn’t bother to read. On the small shelf he had in his locker, he found sugar cookies in the pattern of the Microsoft logo, littered with little blue sprinkles.

The most interesting thing however, was on the side of the door. Around twenty pieces of paper folded into little red paper hearts stuck with string onto the inside of his locker door. What was even more intriguing was the fact that there seemed to be words written on them. Carefully, he plucked one of them and unfolded it.

You smile so bright

Your laugh makes me want to cry

But in a good way

Ok, so it wasn’t a great poem, but nevertheless Logan thought it had a particular quaint authenticity to it. He pulled them off, one by one, careful not to rip them. In every heart, he found a haiku of similar quality and theme. Virgil would probably enjoy them, and for a moment Logan considered giving him something like this. Virgil seemed to have a certain affection for particularly bad poetry, and Logan had an affection for Virgil. Besides, it seemed that some of the poems were just lyrics from some of Virgil’s favorite songs, something about falling boys and chemistry.

When he had finished reading through the poems, Logan decided to have a better look at the poster in the back of his locker. Looking at the giant words on the paper answered some of his questions, but caused even more. Logan, I like you a lot. Go out with me? - Virgil.

It made sense, that this whole display was a confession of sorts, however what didn’t make sense was the fact that it wasn’t, well, Virgil. Virgil was a little bit extra sometimes, but from what Logan knew of him, he was far too nervous to do something like this. And if it was Virgil, then where was he? Unless he had run off somewhere-

Virgil had definitely run off somewhere. He looked at his watch. He had fifteen minutes till class started, which was probably enough time to find him.

****

Virgil was, for lack of a better phrase, freaking the hell out. He got to school really early, early enough to intercept Logan, who got to school like half an hour before he really needed to. The night before, he realized he couldn’t go through with the showy confession. Logan would probably hate it and then maybe hate him, which would of course happen after Logan rejected him so then Logan would stop talking to him because Virgil embarrassed him with it and then Roman would hate him because it didn’t work and then his life would fall apart. So instead he decided to get to school early enough to intercept Logan and confess to him before he could see the giant confession, then explain what had happened when he got rejected and got it so Logan was never surprised with whatever Roman planned. He would wait in the empty classroom Logan spent study hall in (he worked out an arrangement with the science teachers) and wait for Logan, who usually came there before his locker. He felt like such a stalker knowing that, when in reality he just asked Logan’s friend Dolos.

Which would have worked out great, except Virgil couldn’t stop freaking out. He was just staring at the clock, anxiously waiting for him to come in, all the while mentally running through every worst case scenario. He had around 13 minutes before school started, which meant Logan had to be there. It would be any minute before-

“Hello?”

Logan was there, dressed formally as always, hair slicked back with a polo shirt and tie. Virgil was there too, but he was sitting on a table, staring at the clock above the door.

“Hi Logan,” Virgil said as calmly as he could, which happened to be not calmly at all. “I have, uh, something for you.”

Virgil reached behind him for the card he had made. He painted a swirly blue sky with Logan’s favorite constellation on it. Hopefully he would like it more than the giant display.

“It’s very nice looking,” Logan commented, looking at the front. “It even has Vega on it, my favorite.”

Logan probably didn’t even know what was going on. Virgil thought he was amazing, but even he had to admit Logan was clinically oblivious. Logan opened up the card, looking a little confused and surprised. But not angry or disappointed. So that was a step in the right direction.

Logan flipped around the card to show him the inside. Logan, would you like to maybe go out with me? “Yes? Assuming you are asking what it seems you are asking, I would love to go out with you.”

What?

Virgil wasn’t sure if he was happy or confused or surprised, the emotions blending in the pit of his stomach. But he said yes. Logan said yes.

“Y-yes? Are you sure?”

“Yes Virgil, I’m certain.”

Virgil let out a breath. He was in a calmer place and honestly a little light-headed. Logan sat next to him on the table, looking like he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Ok. In that case, be careful when you visit your locker. There’s something in there that’s a little, uh, extra,” Virgil said, trying to be as vague as possible. Logan’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“If you’re talking about the confession you made, I have already seen it. I apologize if I ruined any surprises.”

“You- But- You saw it? And you don’t hate me now?” Virgil asked, it a bit of a frenzy.

“No, not at all. I particularly liked the poems.”

Virgil was surprised. Flabbergasted. Betrayed. He could no longer tell if he wanted to punch or hug Roman. Maybe both.

“It was actually Roman’s idea, but I’m glad you don’t hate me,” Virgil said, wringing his hands and looking at Logan. “I also don’t have too much planned for the actual, um, date. I kind of assumed you’d say no.”

“You do like jumping to conclusions. Fortunately, I am prepared. There’s a new documentary on one of Jupiter’s moons, Callisto, and it will be playing Friday at seven thirty. Does that sound enjoyable?”

Virgil simply nodded with a smile.

“Perfect, I will pick you up at seven. It is, as they say, a date.” Logan said, surprisingly well prepared for someone who didn’t know he would be asked out. Both of them slid off the table, standing back on the ground. Just as Logan began to leave, Virgil reached out and tentatively caught his hand. Logan’s eyebrows raised for a moment, then turned more relaxed.

Slowly and happily, the two walked out together, hand in hand.

#analogical #fluff #high school au #sanders sides #sanders side fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus is there but just for like five seconds

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heytherehowdyworld · 5 years

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D’you Promise? Pt 3

Disclaimer: So I got zero sleep last night, and this is just something I wrote to wrap up the whole “saga” (?). Remember, Suggest and Comment, so I can have coffee and contemplate.

ST3 setting, and not really as angsty as I thought it would be. Oh well. Parts 1 and 2 can be found on my account, because I still can’t link for my life.

Warnings: Language (still don’t mean English), ST3 spoilers, slight hint of abuse?, a few sentences have like 4 commas (a record!)

You quickly cupped his cheeks, rubbing calming circles on them with your thumbs. Tracing his jawline with your fingers, you could feel the tensing of his muscles. It was almost as though he was still afraid he would hurt you.

“Billy… I-“ He stopped you before you could say anything.

“I’m - He’s after the girl. Eleven. You need to get her out of here. I’m so, so sorry, doll. I just, I don’t know, I can’t control it. But listen, I need you to get Eleven, get Max, and get the fuck out of here. It knows who you are. What you are, to me. Please, go, before he comes back.” It was obvious that he was serious, based on the tears that were slowly spilling out over his cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel your heart shatter quietly within your chest, but you knew he was right. If the Mind Flayer wanted El, he was sure as hell not going to get her.

Nodding your head, you asked “but what about you? You better come back, Billy.” All the while not wanting to hear the answer that Billy would provide, you waited for his husky voice to confirm your fears.

And just as he opened his mouth to answer, something happened in his eyes. They changed, going from a soft, icy blue to a dull grey, all in a matter of seconds. You knew he was going, and so did he. Quickly wrapping your hand around his, you repeated the words that forever echoed in your head when he was near.

“I love you, you asshole. I love you, so, so much. I love you. I love you, I love you. I love you, Billy Hargrove.” Tears poured freely from Billy’s eyes even as the Flayer continued to renew his hold on Billy’s mind.

“You promise?” Billy’s voice, becoming slighter by the second, questioned. Before all this Mind Flayer business, Billy had teasingly asked you “promise?” every time you said you loved him. Now, it was a timid question. It was as though he was asking “even after all I’ve done, after all He’s made me do, do you still love me? You still don’t know all I’ve done. You’d run away if you did. Do you still love me?”

Transformation complete, the Flayer was now the only one present in Billy’s eyes. He looked down at where your hands were still connected, to where you were still subconsciously rubbing circles on his wrist. His other hand came up and gripped your throat, but his focus remained on the place in which your hand was connected to his. No longer Billy, he squeezed your throat harder, and harder.

“I do, Billy.” As everything went black and you slipped in and out of consciousness, you said the words like a damn mantra. You felt numb, your senses felt numbed, and all you could feel was something digging into the palm of your hand. The palm of the hand that was holding Billy only moments ago. It seemed that the Mind Flayer pulled back Billy’s hand during one of the moments in which you were unconscious. There was something in your hand, but you felt so drained, so light, you couldn’t check to see what it was.

You woke up with a throbbing in your head, lying in a pristine white room. Fluorescent hospital lights glared down angrily at you.

“You’re awake!” A girl’s voice rang out, bouncing across the walls of the room. Her red hair looked like fire in the blinding light, and it glowed as she ran over to you. You tried to lift up your arms to greet Max, but found it hard to do so. Looking down, you realized you were in a bed, liquid-filled tubes hooked into your arms.

When Max reached you, she threw her arms around your middle. You leaned into her, hoping it would comfort her as much as a hug. It took a few seconds for you to realize that the rapidly-growing wet spot on the hospital nightgown was caused by your tears, and it took even longer to realize that you were not the only one crying.

“Hey Max, what’s up? Hey, look at me,” a sudden sense of urgency grasped at your chest “did we stop Him? The Flayer? Did Joyce and Chief Hopper close it?” Max glanced up at you, and you quickly began to fear the worst had happened. Seeing the worry wrinkling your brows, Max reassured you.

“It’s fine, we stopped the Mind Flayer, El is safe. Hopper - we lost Hopper. He was in the way when the Gate closed. Dustin says he was probably incinerated by the energy released by the shut-down of the thing that made the energy. Or something like that.” The news was sad, but you hadn’t known the Chief of Police well enough to fell properly agrieved at this. There was, however, one person that was definitely broken because of the news.

“How’d El take it? Is she alright?” El had, in the short time you had known her, become important to you. Although you had known next to nothing about this world in Hawkins before, well, whenever you learned, you found yourself caring about her. Then, a thought struck you.

“Max, how long have I been out?” This question hung in the air for a few moments, but Max answered without too much real thought put into the answer.

“You’ve been out for, like, three days! For the first day, you kept murmuring about something digging into your hand, so we took it out. The second and third day, you were constantly waking up, only to fall asleep again. Oh! You were also singing some sappy song about love or protection or broken hearts or whatever. And now, well, here you are!” You could remember, looking back now, that something had, in fact, been digging into the palm of your hand. Then, you noticed that Max still hadn’t revealed anything about El, or how she was taking the Chief’s death.

“El?” You prompted.

“Oh! Sorry about that. El is doing okay, for the most part. I mean, yeah, she’s sad. Yeah, her world’s kind of upside-down - no pun intended - right now. I think she’s coping well, though. She’s been asking about you, actually. Wondering how you are after, y’know, everything.”

“I’m fine - wait, what do you mean everything?” The happy mood that had infiltrated the room was now gone, whizzing past the two figures and draining through the cracks in the doors and windows. A sudden chill filled the room, and Max’s face visibly fell. She fiddled with her hands, twiddling her thumbs. Something grasped in her hands caught the light, and glinted. This caused you to ask the one question you didn’t want to know the answer to.

“What - what happened to Billy? Did he get out?”

Max raised her hands, and you could only wonder what she was going to give you as she beckoned for you to give her your hand, palm up. You complied, and she dropped the glinting object into your hand. Looking at it, it took a hot second for you to see that it was a ring. Not understanding why Max dropped it in your hand, you made to ask her.

“Shhh. Listen.” So you did.

“We ran away from Billy, and you stayed behind doing, well, whatever you were doing. That much you know,” you nodded, smiling slightly. Max had a way of saying things a certain way that made you smile, and it was endearing.

“Well, we found a room while you were with him. It was one of those back-rooms, y’know the ones that have stairs that lead to everywhere? But, the door to the staircase was locked. Mike was trying to open it, and I heard Billy coming. El was terrified, and so was I, but I had to stop him. Long story short, I didn’t. I couldn’t. Mike stopped him. Not for long, though. He took El, and when we woke up, they were both gone through the now-open staircase.”

“Woke up?”

“Oh yeah, Billy knocked us out. Sorry. But anyway, so we run up the stairs. We get to the Food Court inside the mall, and the Mind Flayer is there. Nancy, Jonathan, and them are throwing fireworks at the Mind Flayer. I can see Billy leaning over El, and he’s spasming uncontrollably because of the fireworks. Suddenly, one of the Flayers’ tentacle-things goes for El. I don’t know what’s happening between them, but all of a sudden, Billy stands up and grabs the tentacle. Then more and more tentacles start shooting out, and he, and they…” You didn’t need to hear the rest to know what had transpired within the mall.

Max had silent tears streaming down her face, and you touched your cheek only to realize that you too were crying. Billy was gone, and all you had left were some childish memories. You motioned for Max to come over to you, and you embraced her as well as you could. You looked back at your hands, which were currently wrapped around Max’s back. The ring sat in the palm of one hand, and upon closer inspection, there was some writing on the finger-side of it. You brought the ring closer to your face, and read the two words inscribed there.

‘D’you Promise?’

You did, fuck, you did. You could almost hear Billy’s voice, still laden with sleep, asking you after a night of revelries. You could almost hear his voice, when he was drunk and you were mad, asking you flirtatiously. You could almost hear the heartbreak when he asked you, sneaking in through your window covered in bruises, needing reassurance. And, try as you might to forget it, the icy calm of his voice when he was first possessed by the Mind Flayer. When you bumped into him and made you question whether you meant anything at all to him.

It hurt. You wanted to remember him, by the best of him, but there had been too much bad. You knew that most of it had been the influence of the Flayer, at least recently, but it was still him, somehow. And what about those times, early in the relationship, when he slept with others. Those times he wasn’t under the influence of the Mind Flayer, but was driven by, arguably, a much more horrifying and motivational force.

His father.

Billy’s father made him feel so insecure sometimes, that your heart broke just as it was doing now. His father was a great force that stood behind all of Billy’s pain and sensitivity about himself, and his father played a major part in Billy’s and your decision to leave Hawkins. Together. Both of you were going to run, to California. To where Billy could be free, and happy. To where you could make a life with him. To where you could have made a life with him.

Slipping the promise ring on your ring finger, you looked down at Max and silently pledged to Billy that you would look after her. You knew that although he teased her, shouted at her, used to reflect his father when confronting her, he still loved her. You would look after Max, and see to it that she stayed safe.

“I promise, Billy.”

P.S. So, here we are. Done, and dusted.

Thoughts?

#billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy Hargrove fanfic #dacre montgomery #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3

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benjaminjofaiho · 5 years

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The Captain Next Door Ch.3

Summary: You’re a doctor who also just so happens to be a fan fiction writer. You love lots of fandoms but Captain America is by far your fave, so what happens when you get a new job, move to Brooklyn and realize that the brownstone you bought is right next door to Captain America? Obviously shenanigans ensue.

Warnings: Swearing. Light Mentions of NSFW material.

AN: I’m sorry for the super late update. I am actually in London right now for vacation so I thought it would only be right for me to post an update. Hopefully this will be the last time I have to take a hiatus like this. Thank you for all your reblogs, comments and likes. Your feedback is always welcome and I love hearing from y’all. It’s worth noting that I do not care for or abide by the timeline, there are some people mentioned that haven’t technically been brought together yet [ As per Winter Soldier ] but I did it anyway. P.S. I do not currently have a beta and the ‘f’ and ‘u’ keys on my keyboard are messed up so incase you see repeating letters anywhere they aren’t supposed to be feel free to let me know.

“It’s my genuine pleasure to be here Y/N, and please, Steven is far too formal, ma’am. Steve is just fine. Thank you for your befriending Sam-” Steve started.

“Samuel! Samuel, yes, Sam, Samuel. Samuel Wilson. Wilson comma Samuel on government documents right Samuel?” You looked at him like a fire that needed to be put out. Grabbing the bottle from Captain America who was, literally standing in your foyer looking like all of the things that your fanfiction fantasies could hope for. However there was a look of something on his face. It was an emotion you couldn’t place. He looked down and rubbed his strong arms over his neck and your eyes jumped to his biceps.

“Please,” you said out of breath, and gesturing to your living room “make yourself at home, I just need Samuel’s help in my office with that thing I told you about earlier. Remember Samuel?” Grabbing his collar like a drowning child. Steve quirked a brow.

Laughing and prying your fingers from his shirt “Aww come on Doc we’re back at Samuel? I thought we were friends Y/N-”

“Samuel PLEASE” you screeched wringing your hands around the wine bottle.

“Alright, alright fineeee I’m coming Doc” He rolls his eyes and juts his thumb out while sticking out his thumb at you and Steve laughs a little. You both start up the stairs and to the left into your office. Closing the door and turning swiftly and taking in a sharp breath you prepare to give Sam the haranguing of his life.

“Samuel Wilson! If that even is your name!” You accused, pushing his chest “How could you not tell me?! You know I’m basically in love with him right? Why did you not tell me you were roommates with Captain Fucking America?”

“Listen Doc, I’m going to be honest with you. Getting to know you these past few weeks, we have our fun but I’ve never seen you flustered… and I’m a little bit of a prankster. Plus the added bonus that whenever you talk about how great the Avengers are you always focus on Cap really made me want to be able to have a front seat to this reveal without you being able to prepare yourself and be composed. ”

Unable to help it your shoulders start to shake lightly and then uncontrollably and before you knew it you were open mouth laughing. “Ok, ok. You got me but I just want you to know that you’ve started a prank war. You brought this upon yourself, Samuel! And you owe me! You have to be super nice to me for the foreseeable future because that was just cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Still with the Samuel?!” He laughed along with you “C’mon, Doc!”

“Fine, Sam. Let’s go down stairs, I think we’ve kept him waiting long enough.”

====================Steve’s POV=======================

Stepping out of the shower Steve was happy to be back in his own home after another strenuous mission. He was supposed to be on vacation. Matter of fact, Falcon was the one that was meant to be handling things for about 3 weeks but hey, when the your country needs you, and Nick Fury personally calls for you, what are you going to say, no?

Usually when he comes back home from a long mission he goes to Sylvia’s in Harlem and picks up a plate and continues to make it through his to-do list. Next on the list was season 2 of Friends, which from his googles he learnt was maybe a rip off of a show called Living Single? Never the less it was added to his watchlist. He was unusually happy though because his roommate Sam told him all about their new neighbor who apparently was very blessed when it came to throwing down in the kitchen. Speaking of his loud roommate he heard him shouting over the Troubleman soundtrack that he didn’t want his food to get cold. Pulling on a plain white shirt and some khakis he put on some sneakers he jogged down the steps he quickly got a bottle of wine out of the fridge and followed Sam out of the house and locked the door behind him.

Meanwhile Sam was skipping like a child on Christmas. He knew Sam loved his food but he felt as if this excitement was a bit over the top. He’d eaten with her several times. Was the food that wonderful? Why did he look so happy? Standing behind him on her stoop he was getting more and more confused. Raising an eyebrow at Sam who was almost bouncing out of his shoes, Sam turned around and gave him a large gap toothed grin.

“You alright buddy?” He asked gently placing an arm on Sam’s shoulder.

“Yeah, sure man. Just really happy about what’s about to happen” before he could respond, the door swung open and a tantalizing aroma started wafting out as he heard Sam say exactly what he was thinking. The house smelled amazing. Before he knew what was happening he was being asked if he thought you looked nice. He could have sworn that he heard his favorite song, Unforgettable by Nat King Cole playing while she spun in what seemed like slow motion and stopped to look at him. He heard his mouth saying she absolutely did look gorgeous. While they were having whatever exchange they were having the music in his mind was still playing and he couldn't stop looking at her like the magic she was. Slowing drawing his eyes over her umber skin, this dark yellow-brown that looked so warm and inviting. He looked at her eyes like onyx and was getting lost in them in the best way possible. She was tall for a woman, around 5’8 at least, and she was definitely what the internet told him was thiccc. Looking to the top of her head he wanted to run his hands through her hair and then twist it around his hand and pull back and expose her neck and pepper kisses there. His eyes were pulled to her breasts and as he watched them rise and fall he thought about palming them and taking a Hershey’s Kiss into his mouth and all of a sudden his member started to wake after such a hibernation. He had to snap out of it. This was grossly inappropriate, this respectable woman invited him to her home being neighborly and here he is, violating her in his mind. Imagining terrible sinfully delicious things he could do with her, and to her. Imagining pulling her dress up and finding that she forgot to wear panties. He caught her looking at him crazed and to be honest he hadn’t been listening or even hearing anything said between her and Sam. His eyes shot down to the floor and he rubbed the back of his neck. He had to convince himself that she couldn't read minds. Yes he had met some special people with special abilities but he had to just pray to Christ she wasn’t one of them. Feeling guilty he continued looking at his feet. He heard her tell him to sit and she took the bottle of wine from him. Her long beautiful fingers briefly grazed his and he felt as if he was diving into that ice cap all over and there’s the music again! That same song! What the hell was happening? Okay she was beautiful and ethereal and quite frankly looked like a painting that someone slaved over and like she was made out of love and light, but so what? He’d been with other women since Peggy, sure, but none of them made him feel this way. None of them made him hear music for Pete’s sake. While she and Sam went upstairs he was grateful to be able to adjust himself without anyone seeing. He took a seat on her sofa.

Looking around Steve was loving the ambiance. He looked around and then stood up to get a closer look of everything. Laughing to himself he saw the record player propped open and spinning with Nat King Cole’s smile looking up at him. At least he wasn’t completely crazy. Okay, well maybe he had to get laid? It had been a while admittedly. He let out a stressed sigh and continued to look around. He saw pictures leaning up against the wall in frames and the nosier part of him got the best of him and he started thumbing through them. He saw little girls and a teenage boy, assumedly her family. Her parents and then her. There was one of her smiling with her white coat and remembered that Sam does call her the Doc. Thinking of Sam he turned wondering what was keeping them, listening keenly he heard hearty laughter. Sam came down first and held a hand out to help her down the stairs. She clutched her imaginary pearls and in an exaggerated Southern Belle accent said

“Oh my, thank you kindly sir! You’re just too sweet! ”

“Of course darlin’! Anything for you!” Sam said in a likened manner. “ Plus you know our agreement and all. I’m yours until you say so”.

He caught her wink at him. What was she winking for? Why was Sam hers? He just met her for crying out loud how close could they possibly be? In an instant he felt something in the pit of his stomach. What was that? It felt heavy and uncomfortable. He actually shifted in his seat thinking his stomach started acting up when he was about to have the meal of his life. More importantly he wanted to know what the hell was going on with Sam and Y/N. All he knew was Sam needed to back the hell up. Why was he getting so angry? Why was he feeling so…so…- that train of thought was cut off immediately when he saw her smiling and her lips moving with no sound coming out. It was as if a shining light was upon him and in an instant he felt better. Like any issue he had could be solved. What was this?

“Captain” She said in a voice as smooth as silk “Are you ready?”

He wasn’t sure what she was asking about but he knew right then he would do whatever and go wherever she wanted. He would follow her to the ends of the earth if she smiled at him like that.

“Yes ma’am. And please it’s Steve!” He said giving her a patented Captain America smile.

“Well if I have to call you Steve you have to call me Y/N. Dinner’s ready and the table is set. Are you ready?” She repeated.

“After you” He said with an out stretched arm.

Seated at the table he was admiring her while she whizzed around the kitchen. He didn't know how long he was staring at her before he heard Sam clearing his throat. Turing his attention back to his roommate he caught him with a mischievous smile on his face.

“What is it?” He inquired

“Nothing man, just looking at that stupid grin on your face every time you look at the Doc. You like what you see?”

“Sam, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mmhmm, yeah, sure, whatever you say Cap”

“I hope you guys brought your extra loose pants because there’s a lot of food here!”

Turning his head to the sound of her voice he found himself getting up.

“Can I help you with anything ma’- I mean Y/N.” He corrected

“That's so sweet of you Steve.” She said passing him a big plate of fried chicken in one and a bowl of mashed potatoes in the other. “Sam why don’t you come get some plates as well?”

“I think the Cap’s got it”

“It’s no problem, helping out is the least I can do.” They said in unison. She laughed at their harmony and agreed. After a 2 more trips to the kitchen the table was set and they were all seated around it.

“Everything looks delicious Y/N, I can’t wait to try it” He said.

“I’m more than happy to oblige. You both were so helpful the first day we met, Sam has been really handy around the house as well. It's the least I could do, plus he told me that you loved soul food. Although he didn’t tell me you were Captain America, it was a little bit of a surprise. Kept that little bit of information for himself.”

He looked at her tentatively “I hope it was a good one, hope you’re not disappointed”

“Absolutely not” She rushed out. A silence fell in the room and he was getting lost in her again.

“Well!” Sam’s voice irrupted, shattering the moment “Now that the cat is out of the bag, lets dig in!” He snapped out of whatever daze he was in and for the next hour they ate and laughed. He had his fill of the most amazing fried chicken that was just spicy enough, corn bread, mac and cheese, greens, black eyed peas and things he’d never even tried before. He looked at her and realized he hadn’t stopped laughing all evening. She was a fantastic host, just as he’d thought.

“The chicken is amazing Y/N”

“Thank you! You don’t think it’s too spicy? She asked.

“Not at all” He started “ I actually added a little bit of Frank’s hot sauce on it”

“Don’t listen to that mad man” Sam said “Mr. Boner was right, the chicken is hot.”

“Mr. Boner…?” Steve said confused.

She laughed“ Sam means Dr. Boner, the bone man. He’s just my work husband and lowkey a little bit of my husband, husband. We were friends back in med school and now we work together. He was the one that recommended me for the job. And I’m sure as you remember from the first day we met, I can do most things by myself, however when I really do need help and I’m completely out of my depth I call him.” For some reason Steve started to feel that thing he felt when he was watching Sam help Y/N down the stairs. “Wow,” he breathed “So you both must be close”

“Yeah what can I say? He’s…peculiar but he’s always there when I need him. He’s one of the people I think I depend on second to my family. In fact I would love for you all to meet officially one day.”

“Officially?” Steve inquired.

“Yeah Sam here has spoken to him a couple times on Facetime and they make fun of me and Boner tries to tell him some embarrassing school stories.-“

“Yeah! The Doc here is trying to keep this calm and collected façade up and I would like to know what she was like before she turned into this statue of constant perfection” Sam said rolling his eyes.

She kissed her teeth “Boy please, I’ve been perfect from the day I came out the womb!”

A comfortable silence fell over them and Steve imagined to himself that there probably wasn’t a time she wasn’t perfect,

“I hope y’all have space for desert! I’m keeping it real simple with apple pie, homemade vanilla bean ice cream sprinkled with pralines.” She started to push her chair backward from the table but Sam told her he would do get it. Did he really know her home thatwell? After a little back and forth and a lot of convincing she decided to stay. It was only the two of them at the table and then she turned her full attention to him.

“So Steve, tell me about yourself.”

======================Your POV=======================

Try and act normal Y/N , please Y/N, please please, please I am begging you just be normal for once in your life. Try to act like you didn’t fall asleep after rubbing one out to this man last night. Think of anything. ANYTHING else. Anything but how you want to be devoured by him and how you want to eat him up too.

“So Steve, tell me about yourself” Nice one Y/N! Way to fucking go! tElL mE aBoUt yOuRsElF. What the hell is this? 60 minutes?

“That’s a really broad question…” He started. Of course it is! Here I fucking go trying to be all Fox and Friends, meanwhile there is a whole ass museum about ‘himself’ that I now have to act like I’ve never been to.

“That's fair” you said, trying to save face “How about what do you like to do when you aren’t wearing the stars and stripes?”

“Hmm. I enjoy the internet as whole. So much helpful information on there. I like that when I become a fan of something in real life I can meet people who also love said thing and they can give me more information about it and even new recommendations. I enjoy painting. I consider myself a little bit of a foodie. I like going to movies that are barely full so I can get that theater experience without so many people around. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head.”

“What forums are you a part of? What do you like to paint? Are you into realism or do you kind of just do your own thing? I love making food and eating it even more. I do that theater thing too! I want to be able to cry without anyone seeing my ugly crying face.”

“I highly doubt anyone would ever consider you ugly”

You looked down quickly thanking God for the melanin because chile, the blush. He probably is this nice to everyone he meets. He is, after all, THE Captain America.

“I kind of just like random stuff,” he continued “probably nothing you’ve ever heard about. And as for my paintings I also just do whatever comes to mind. And drawing and painting things that are fandom relevant.”

“Fandom?” You said with the quirk of a brow “You sound like someone from Tumblr. Now I’m really curious. What do you get into online Captain Rogers?” You noticed a redness creeping up on his face. Hopefully you hadn’t upset him by getting too flirty. He was from the old school after-all. Before you could put your foot in your mouth any further, Sam came out with the desert.

“Now listen here!” Sam boomed “ I had to take just a sliver of this here pie to make sure it was good. In our line of work we have lots of enemies. One can never be too careful. I did this for the greater good. I did this for my country! That being said I don’t want to hear anything about this further! We’ve spoken about the missing piece long enough!”

After a brief second passing between you all, laughter broke out and you told Sam to sit his ass down. You got up and served Sam first, since he did ‘work so hard to insure the pie was good’. Next you turned to Steve and served his up. You served yourself a plate last and sat down to wait for the verdict. You heard a deep moan coming from the Cap and turned to see him with his eyes closed. That moan was definitely going to be thought about later.

“You like?” you asked. The only response you got was a slowly nodding captain savoring your food. You were on cloud nine at this point. He opened his eyes and looked at you. You started on your pie as well. The night continued and you brewed some coffee for the gents and a nice cup of honey ginger tea for yourself. You all eventually moved to the living room and were all laughing like old friends. It was as if even though you just met you had some type of rhythm going. A push and pull of sorts.

“Well” Sam slapped his hands to his knees standing up “Thank you so much for dinner Doc”

“It was great to have you as always Sam,” turning to Steve “ And it was an absolute pleasure to meet you. I hope to get to find out eventually what exactly you’re into Captain Rogers.” There goes that redness again. You had to get this shit under control and stop making him so uncomfortable in your home.

“Trust me Y/N, the pleasure was mine.”

“I hope we can do this again sometime soon”

Shutting the door behind them you leaned up against it and let out a squeal. You couldn't believe it you actually had the Captain America over at your house. For the last few hours you wined and dined him. Now all that was left was to 69 him. You laughed at your immaturity and went to clean up the kitchen.

The next day you went into the hospital. You had unofficially started and not everyone knew you yet. The guy that had your old position’s name was still on the door. You walked into your office and greeted your assistant, Sonia. She was from the UK and had everything and everyone in the hospital on lock. She knew everything about everything, how to get what you needed, and if she couldn’t get it herself she always ‘knew a guy’ who could. Usually you had a rule about not mixing business with pleasure, but for her you were thinking about making an exception.

“Good morning Dr. Y/L/N. How was your weekend? She said in her beautiful voice.

“Nothing much, just had some friends over for dinner”

“And I didn’t get an invite?” making the cutest pouty face, you had to laugh.

“Damn” You said with a contemplating look on your face, raising a Tupperware with her name on it “Now what am I gonna do with this? I mean I thought I was going to bring this to my wonderful super ADULT assistant but all I see is a little baby. Little baby? Do you know where my assistant is?”

Straightening her back and stretching out her arms with grabbing motions “ Gimmie, gimmie! I’m a big girl!”

Laughing even more you hand her the Tupperware. You lean on her desk and prepare to ask for your messages when a man walks in.

“Sonia, my darling, do I have any messages?”

“I didn’t know you were his assistant Sonia” You said turning to her.

“I’m not” she remarked making a biting motion at the gentleman. Completely ignoring you he rolls his neck.

“Christ. I had to cut my vacation short. I heard the new boss has started up. He wasn’t even supposed to start for another 2 weeks. Since I got passed over for the whole promotion to head of Cardio at least I could make a good impression with the guy and be a sturdy number two. I’ve heard his work is flawless and I’ve heard he’s developed his own technique for plaque removal and I want a front row fucking seat. What’s his name again? Dr. Y/L/N? From the what I hear we have a new cardio god in our midst. It’s about time. I really needed that deep tissue massage too. I hope he notices my efforts, fuck.” You scoff and he rolls his eyes over to the schedule wall as he squints. “There’s an angioplasty scheduled? I need to be in on that. Sonia, babe, you have to get me into that.”

With your chin in your arm casually leaning on the desk and looking out the window you remarked “ I don’t think you’ll be able to Dr. Daniels. Seems like you’ve had your own procedure scheduled for the same time.” He finally turns to face you, while you continue to look out the window at the Manhattan skyline.

“How’d you know my name?” he asks abruptly. You lazily turn to him and tap a finger to his badge. “Right you are…ma’am. Well I can understand that this is a little complicated for you. medical schedules were difficult for me to read when I first started working here–”

“Dr. Daniels” Sonia tried to interrupt. He put his hand up to silence her.

“As I was saying I understand how complicated medical jargon can be for...” How did he manage to look like he was undressing you yet belittling and patronizing you at the same time? “someone like you.”

“Dr. Daniels!” Sonia said a little louder this time.

Cutting a look at her he continued “Even though it seems that I have a scheduled procedure I would like to move it as something more important would be taking place at that time.”

“More important than patient care?” You questioned “Seems like bad doctoring to me.”

“Again ma’am, I am sure this all has gone over your head and I would be happy to get someone to explain this in layman’s terms to you-”

“Gerald!”

“Sonia please! I have been trying to explain to this… woman.” He looked you over again, this time with more annoyance than anything else. Starting to mumble he started “ Honestly these people watch one lifetime special and get a WebMD membership and think they’re doctors now. Honestly I didn’t go to John’s Hopkins to deal with this bullshit.”

“That is no way to talk to a patient” You remark “that how you talk to all your patients?”

“First of all, you aren’t my patient ma’am; I am just trying to be curious to you, and you’re making that pretty difficult by the way. Secondly you come in here acting like you know everything because what? You read my name super fast and can read a procedure board? Thirdly, you’re putting me in a foul mood when I have an important meeting any minute now. Quite frankly I am done with this conversation so good day. He’ll be here any minute” He said straining and looking past you, down the hallway while adjusting his jacket trying to look his best.

“Well then this is as good a time as any I suppose” You reply. Fully turning to face him you badge dangled from your neck. “ I’m ‘Him’. Hello Dr. Gerald Daniels. My name is Dr. Y/F/N Y/L/N. You can just call me Dr. Y/L/N. I’ve heard I am the resident Cardio God.”

He looked as if he was going to shit a ton of bricks. All that could be heard was Sonia snickering and when you turned to look at her she was typing jibberish on a blank word document. You had to laugh at her antics. Flinging your coat onto the couch in her office, you called over your shoulder “Sonia my messages in 5 please. I’d like some tea as well. Surprise me.” You slammed your door closed and sat at your desk. Damn it felt good to be the boss.

The rest of your day went by without a hitch and at 4:55 you heard a knock coming from your door.

“Come in!”

The door opened slowly to reveal a humbled looking Dr. Daniels with a blueberry scone in one hand and a cheesy mug in the other. You didn’t want to laugh but you did. You loved bad jokes.

“Dr. Y/L/N, listen I am so sorry about this morning. I was really amped to meet you and I went about things the wrong way. I would like us to start again… If that’s alright with you. Please don't let my poor behavior taint your opinion of me. I get a little high strung with a mix of competitive and it usually doesn’t manifest in the way it did today and I cannot stress how sorry I am about it-” You put your hand up cutting him off.

“ Look dude. You were totally an asshole and should actually be reporting to HR. I was going to report you myself but I asked around about you and apparently you aren’t usually that way with patients. In fact doctors and patients around seem to love you, I couldn't get one bad thing said about you. So I’m giving you a second chance, because I believe in those. But you’re on probation with ME.”

“Thank you Dr. Y/L/N! This is such a relief for me!”

“But tighten up! I don't want that kind of trash in my halls again, Daniels! I mean it!” Looking at the clock “And after hours it’s just Y/F/N. Are those for me?

“Of course!” Handing you the scone he got a packet of heavy cream and jam and gave that to you as well. “Blueberry tea. I sort of have a thing for blueberries and I grow this myself.”

Nodding you took a sip. It was delightful. It tasted as if you could bottle up the feeling of a country afternoon eating a picnic on some grassy hill with cows roaming over yonder.

“Daniels this is delicious. I’m going to have to get the leaves from you sometime.”

“If I give them to you, could you lift my probation?”

“Don't push it!” Throwing his hands up he made a ‘no offense motion and laughed’ backing out of the office he said he would see you tomorrow.

Officially off the clock you brought out your laptop and logged onto Tumblr. You sent your beta a message.

MSG to Jay: Jaybaby. I know this is coming late. I know, I know. Works got me swamped but on the up and up I’ve come up with some new heat and I’m sure the readers will love it. Here are the next few chapters. Could you get them back to me within the week? Love ya big time. X

You sent that and started with your new fic. This one was about a girl moving next door to captain America and basically falling in love with him. It’s going to be super fluff and light hearted cuteness. There’ll probably be a situation where oh no! they have to sleep in the same bed or some trope shit like that. Before signing off you heard a ping and it was a couple jpegs from Rod. It was a picture of you this time. Well part of you anyway. You had your identity to worry about but your icon was a picture of your eyes and part of your hair behind your glasses. He made the most beautiful rendition of it. He also sent a couple of pictures of T’challa, Aquaman for your amusement. Attached you found a note:

Doc. You were one of the first people to start reblogging my pictures and you were the first person to write a fic based off something out of my imagination. You really gave me great feedback and support and I’ll always be grateful for that. Take care for now and happy writing.

You changed you icon to the one he painted and closed your laptop smiling. You turned off the lights to your office and started on your way home.

Tag list.

@champagnesugamama @smooth-sunflower @queenwinchester27 @hamilboots @trees-are-friends (y’all didn’t ask to be tagged explicitly but I assumed you may want to be, If not let me know and I’ll remove you from the taglist xx)

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pkmndaisuki · 6 years

Text

My Issues With HGSS And How They Could Have Been Fixed

Before I begin, I admit there is probably some nostalgia fueling some of this, since I started with Gen II and have been loving playing those games again thanks to their Virtual Console releases. And when HGSS was new, I was ecstatic and so excited to play them. I even preordered both because of it. And I did enjoy my initial playthroughs of them a lot. Getting to go through Johto in updated graphics with modern mechanics was great.

However, comma, as the years go by I've noticed some things that HGSS did that weren't that great in hindsight, at least to me.

1: The Neighbor

HGSS added in the other gender choice as a separate character, following RSE and DPPt's lead, but that character doesn't really do all that much. They more or less just fill the role as an aide of Prof. Elm without really establishing them as such from the beginning. They provide the obligatory capture tutorial (which was entirely skippable in Gen II, but I digress), show off the following mechanic before you get your starter, and that's really about it.

There is one time they play a part in the story, sort of. When you return to Elm's lab after beating the rival for the first time, there's a police officer there, taking note of the theft of one of the starters. In Gen II, all the officer does is relay what happened to the player and upon learning you battled the thief, asks for his name. That's it. In HGSS, though, he does this "Aha! The criminal always returns to the scene of the crime!" nonsense. And instead of Elm, a competent adult, vouching for you, the neighbor bursts in all Phoenix Wright-style and is all "There's no way my friend would be the theif!!" and that convinces the officer you're not the thief. Wow.

There's also the awkward bit at the Day Care Center where the neighbor forces you to stop by and introduces you to the Day Care Lady, who just so happens to be their grandmother. And that's where you get the neighbor's PokéGear number, and the Day Care Lady teases the neighbor over it. Which prompts the neighbor to be all "Geez, Grandma! We're just friends! This is what friends do! Gosh!" And the potential of a crush is never brought up again.

And the last time you run into the neighbor they give you the Vs. Seeker and then go back to New Bark Town to make flower crowns out of shiny leaves. And that's it. The character does nothing of any major importance whatsoever. You never even see them battle outside of the capture tutorial. And they have a Marill! One of the rarest Pokémon in Johto!

The fix? Have the character debate their competance as a Trainer. Maybe start that with them trying to stop the rival from stealing the other starter, but losing handily. Their Marill, which is their close friend and partner, lost to a thief who barely knew his Pokémon. And since friendship with Pokémon is such a big deal in HGSS, they could have easily played that up. So then over the course of the game you see them trying to really train and get better, even asking you to battle them a time or two. Maybe they might realize battling isn't really for them and instead focus on something else like the Pokéathlon. Or even have them participate somewhere in the Team Rocket plot. Just something to make them interesting at all.

2. The Team Rocket Uniform

Speaking of the Team Rocket plot, HGSS didn't really change all that much from the originals, until you got to Goldenrod. You couldn't enter the Radio Tower unless you borrow a Team Rocket uniform costume from the photo booth in the underground. And the townsfolk you can interact with treat you differently believing you actually joined Team Rocket. Even Nurse Joy mentions it. It's a neat idea, but it falls flat as soon as you enter the Radio Tower. Because your rival pops in behind you and outs you immediately, causing you to shed your disguise and the plot proceeds the same as the old games. A disappointment to be sure.

The fix? Let the player get all the way to the Director's room in disguise. The other Grunts won't pay you much mind, you could have unique conversation with them and the Radio Tower staff, stuff like that. But then you see the "Director" who is actually Executive Petrel, who was established back in Mahogany as a disguise artist. And since he already battled you once, combined with his skillset, he easily sees through your ploy, causing you to shed the disguise. You battle as normal, he gives you the Basement Key, but he also announces over the PA that there's an intruder and to battle them on sight. Thus making you battle your way back down. Radio Tower employees might offer some healing if you're hurting.

And then the plot proceeds as normal, with maybe some unique dialogue from townsfolk relieved you're not really a Rocket.

3. Whitney.

I know, I know, everyone complains about Whitney. Frankly, I usually don't have that much trouble unless I'm doing a self-imposed challenge in either Gen II or IV. Just get a female Geodude as soon as you can. Trust me.

Anyway, my issue is more with the change in her character. All that's shown in Gen II is that she's confident but a sore loser, and admits that she only got into Pokémon because everyone else was. One of her Gym Trainers even apologizes for her sore losership once you win. And after you talk to Whitney again, she stops crying and then nearly forgets to give you her badge. So yes, she is a little airheaded but also bold.

So the changes to her personality in HGSS amplifying the airheadedness to 11 is jarring. She's not even at the Gym when you first arrive because she's trying to win a Radio Card. And once you do, she praises your ability to answer some really basic questions (The fact that you never find apricots in the Pokémon world at all should have been a big tip off, Whitney), then remembers her job and asks you to meet her at the Gym.

And in the Team Rocket plot, one of her Gym Trainers is guarding the door because Whitney's inside cowering or something. Just wow.

The only positive change to Whitney is her being all for the Pokéathlon. Given her outfit is loosely based on a baseball uniform, her having a passion for a sport makes sense. And she's so happy you seem interested in it too, which is nice.

So, the fix? Play up her confidence more, while maybe sprinkling some of the airheadedness. For instance, during the Team Rocket plot, have her guarding the Gym, but thinking the Grunt she's fighting is just some guy in a costume, not quite getting that it's really Team Rocket. After all, Team Rocket vanished three years prior, and they give out costumes at the photo booth.

And just not have the Radio Card bit at all. Maybe have her talking to Buena at the Radio Tower instead, thus introducing you to the Password show and the radio concepts in one. And Whitney then apologizing for not being in the Gym when you arrived before heading back there herself, promising a tough battle when you get there.

There's other minor issues I have, like the changes to the Eusine and Suicune plot being weird (Why extend that plot to Kanto? Without even referencing that Eusine is from Kanto?), the whole trying to shoehorn the Safari Zone bit (which thankfully you can eventually ignore), and not being able to delete numbers from your PokéGear (Juggler Irwin. That is all). But the above three are the big ones that could have been way better but weren't.

#hgss #pokemon hgss #pkmn rants a bit #i have a lot of quibbles with gen iv over any other gen frankly

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gingywritesimagines · 6 years

Text

Protect One Another

For Tina <3

(peep my boys Mush and Finch in the background heck yeah i love them)

Title: Protect One Another

Fandom: Newsies

Pairing: Crutchie Morris x badass fem!reader

Request: I told my friend Tina that I ship her with Crutchie and as I listed reasons why she said something along the lines of “would you write a fanfic of this for me if I asked?” and I said “Bet” and now here it is. Tina I love you

Warnings: language, mentions of weapons, the Delancey’s being douchebags, offensive language (again, Delanceys), the boys teasing Crutchie, a smidge of violence, an overuse of commas as always

Description: While getting ready to sell papes one day, Crutchie lets slip that he has a girlfriend. He can handle the boys’ teasing as long as she isn’t there to hear it, but what happens when she decides to surprise this human ray of sunshine by showing up to be his selling partner for the day?

The sun had barely risen over the streets of Manhattan when the morning bell rang, signalling the beginning of another busy day for the newsies. Like every morning, the boys stirred to life within minutes, and it wasn’t long before they were all bickering for space in the bathroom. Crutchie Morris- one of the older newsies- followed his usual morning routine of getting dressed, waking up Jack, hobbling downstairs, and trying his best to stop the fighting before he got himself ready. Today was no different, with Albert and Racetrack arguing over the sink.

“Why should yous get the mirror first?” Albert yelled.

“It takes a lot of work to look this good, mista, and it takes lotsa time too.” Race replied with a smirk.

“Take all the time you want.” Al jeered, “You’s still butt-ugly!”

“Alright!” Crutchie hollered, drawing the attention to him, “There’s more than one mirror in here. Yous need one that bad, go find anotha one. Leave the rest of us out of it.”

Both boys grumbled in response as they continued about their routine. As they walked away, Crutchie made his way to the sink, sighing in annoyance.

“And yous wonder why I’s haven’t introduced yous to my goirl.” he muttered under his breath.

However, it apparently wasn’t as quiet as he intended it to be, because the minute the words left his mouth, every eye in the room was trained on him.

There was a moment of silence before Jack’s voice erupted through the room, “Your goirl?”

With that, the entirety of Manhattan’s newsies burst into a chorus of cheers and jests:

“You been holdin’ out on us, Crutch?”

“That bum leg is a gold mine and a skirt magnet!”

“What’s she like, Crutchie?”

“And when the hell can we meet her!”

“I’s can’t believe you ain’t told us!”

Bowing his head to hide his blush, Crutchie shook his head, hoping this would all blow over soon. However, as the boys marched towards Newsies Square, their excitement showed no signs of slowing down. The comments and questions came at him from all angles, and he was finding it harder to ignore them.

In all honesty, Crutchie wanted more than anything to tell them. He wanted so badly to sit them down and talk for hours about (Y/N) (Y/L/N), his beloved girlfriend and the absolute love of his life. He loved you more than anything else in all this world and he had never been happier than he was the day you’d asked him out to dinner. He loved everything about you; you were as tough as you were beautiful, and you respected everyone but took no shit from anyone. To him you were perfect, but you were unconventional as well, and he was afraid the boys would resent you for that. He was afraid of many things when it came to you: that the boys won’t like you, that you’re only with him for his limp, that he won’t be good enough for you one day, that you’ll get hurt, that the Delanceys will find you... that he’ll lose you forever. He was afraid of so many things, despite knowing better, that it made him appreciate what time he got with you even more, and it made him promise himself that he’d protect you as best he could- no matter what.

As these thoughts swirled through Crutchie’s head, him and his friends had arrived at the iron gates of The World. As always, they waited not-so-patiently for the gates to open, staring at the large chalkboard as if the day’s headline would magically appear. The weren’t out there long before the infamous Delancey brothers, Oscar and Morris, marched up to the gates with keys.

“Move out of the way! Hey, step aside!” Morris called out, urging newsies to shift slightly so that Oscar could get to the lock.

“Oh dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma?” Race smirked, starting the daily taunt that he had choreographed not too long ago, “I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night.”

Crutchie chuckled as he nudged Race’s arm, “Or could it be-”

“The Delancey Brothas!”

Oscar rolled his eyes as he swung the gate open, reluctantly letting the boys in, but he turned when he heard his name called.

“Hey, Oscar, can I ask you somethin’?” Finch asked, wandering into the Square.

“Thought you just did.” the Delancey growled, ignoring the newsie and going back to work.

Albert shook his head, leaning against the open gate, “What’d’ya wanna ask him, Finch?”

The taller boy smirked, glancing at Crutchie before turning back to the brothers, “I wanna know why they keep saying they’s real men when every goirl who sees ‘em runs the other way. I mean, even Crutchie’s got a goirl of his own, but Morris can’t get within 5 feet ‘a one without her calling the cops.”

Crutchie’s eyes went wide in horror. Morris whirled around, reading to soak Finch for what he’d said, but the boys rushed to stand at Finch’s side, and Oscar held him back.

“What did you just say?” he asked.

Finch made a show of rolling his eyes, “I said-”

“No, I heard what you said.” Oscar interrupted him, a devilish smirk across his face, “Crip’s got himself a goirl?”

“Yeah right, Oscar.” Morris spat, “Even if he did, it’d be nothin’ more than a pity date. Poor thing’d just feel bad about his limp, she’d leave him as soon as she got the chance.”

Normally, Crutchie was very good at ignoring Morris’ cruel words, but those ones hit him hard. He wasn��t sure whether to punch the Delancey or cry, but luckily the Jacobs brothers showed up before he had to choose.

“Look, we made it just in time for the headline!” Les cried, appearing by Crutchie’s side.

And he was right. As the boys turned to look, the headline was being scrawled across the chalkboard. “West In Flames As Heat Rages On”, it read. The boys collectively cheered and made their way towards the circulation window, ready to start selling.

“Papes for the newsies! Line up!” the familiar scream of Mr. Weisel rang out across the Square.

The Delanceys went back to work and the boys got their money ready as they struck up conversations in line.

“So, how’s it goin’ today, Crutchie?” Les asked from his spot behind him.

Crutchie turned around and smiled, “I’m okay, Les-”

Before he could finish, Romeo pitched in, “He’d be doin’ better if he was with his lady.”

Crutchie glared at Romeo, already upset about how the day was going, but both Les and Davey had their eyes wide as they turned to Crutchie.

“You gotta girl?”

“That’s great!” Davey smiled, “But, pal, why didn’t you tell us?”

Crutchie rubbed the back of his neck, “If yous had shown up a little earlier, you’d know why.”

Davey and Les shared a look of confusion, but chose to not ask questions as they continued down the line. The rest of the boys, however, bombarded him with questions- that is, until they were cut of by Morris shouting.

“Excuse me, miss?”

They all turned around to see who he was talking to, and Crutchie stood in horror at the sight. There you were, waltzing through the gates of The World and looking as beautiful as ever. Even though the skirt and blouse you wore weren’t your best, you were still a sight to behold, but the fact that you were there made your boyfriend’s heart stop with fear... especially when you acknowledged Morris.

“Yes?”

“You lost, darlin’?” Morris smirked, “Or are you just headed my way?”

Crutchie whirled around, glaring at Morris with a jealous rage he never knew before, but he tried to keep focused on you.

“That depends, is this the circulation window for the New York World?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I’m not lost, but the only way I’m going is far away from you.”

All the newsies “ooooh”ed and laughed at your comment, turning to see what Morris had to say to that.

However, it was Oscar who spoke next, “What’s your name, Sweetheart? And why are you here?”

You rolled your eyes, strolling closer to the window, “Well, my name’s not Sweetheart, that’s for sure, and I’m here to sell some papers.”

“If your name’s not Sweetheart,” Jack piped up, jumping onto a wagon so you could see him better, “then what is it?”

Crutchie clenched his fists, glaring at the union leader. He loved Jack like a brother, but you were his girl, and he didn’t like Jack’s tone. Despite this, he couldn’t help but smirk at your response.

“(Y/N). (Y/L/N).” you replied, sighing loudly, “And you’re Jack Kelly, aren’t you.”

“You’s heard of me?”

“He described you perfectly, but I don’t think he mentioned you being so arrogant.”

The boys chuckled at that as they helped Jack down from the wagon, accompanied by a chorus of “back down, Jackie” and “you’re out of your league, Kelly”. You ignored them and gestured to the end of the line.

“Is this the line to get the papers?”

A few voices mumbled replies but Oscar piped up, gesturing for you to come closer.

“No need for that. After all, a pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be kept waiting. Just come up here and we’ll get ya just what you need.”

Crutchie became uneasy as he watched you march slowly up to the window, and he could feel his anger rising. He listened closely, ready to strike if need be.

“Skip a whole line for a few papers?” you arched an eyebrow, “What’s the catch?”

Oscar smirked, grabbing your wrists forcefully, “Lemme take you out for dinner. I promise you’ll be begging for a second date...”

Disgusted, you opened your mouth to reply, but you were cut off by the voice of your enraged boyfriend.

“THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY TO HER, DELANCEY?”

All the boys watched in shock, with Davey scolding him and covering Les’ ears, as Crutchie marched to the front and grabbed the older Delancey by the collar.

“You talk to my goirl like that again, and I will kill you.” He growled, before punching Oscar with all the force he had. The punch sent Oscar flying backwards, with a crack so loud everyone was sure Crutchie had broke the goon’s jaw at least. Wiesel and Morris rushed to Oscar’s side as you pulled Crutchie aside.

“Are you okay?” you asked, desperately trying to make him look at you.

“I’s fine, (Y/N), I’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Crutchie, I’m fine, but I’m worried about you! How’s your hand-?”

Suddenly, Crutchie was thrown to the ground and you were pushed aside.

“You think you can talk to me like that, you lousy crip?! You think you can hit me like that and get away with it?!” Oscar roared, beating your boyfriend into the ground.

All the newsies began rushing to Crutchie’s aid, but they all stopped in shock when you attacked Oscar yourself.

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF HIM!”

(Davey was still covering Les’ ears, screaming “Language!” at you from the background.)

You tackled the Delancey to the ground, smashing your fist into his face repeatedly. He tried to stop you, but you ripped the brass knuckles from his hand and used them yourself. Morris and Wiesel tried to pull you off of him, but to no avail. You pounded punch after punch, shouting through gritted teeth with each one.

“You ever try to touch my Crutchie again, I will kill you. Understand?”

Oscar sputtered, struggling to talk with the constant punches to his face, “I got it! I got it!”

With that, you stood up and threw the brass knuckles at him, “Get the hell out of here.”

Oscar stumbled to his feet, assisted by Morris, and ran back to the window. The newsies erupted into applause and cheers as you turned around to find Crutchie. You saw him smiling at you while holding on to Elmer for support. He broke out of his friend’s grip and threw his arms around you.

“That’s my goirl.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Jack walked up to you, clapping his hand around Crutchie’s shoulder with a smirk, “Maybe we should leave yous two alone?”

As you both nodded, Jack grabbed the other newsies and got to work.

“Maybe I should take a day off?” Crutchie suggested.

“Yeah.” You smiled, “Maybe you should.”

Back at the lodging house, you sat with Crutchie on the old, worn couch in the main room. Your head was in his lap as the two of you reflected on the morning.

“You’s a badass, baby, but sometimes you take it a little too far.” he chuckled, stroking your hair.

“Yeah, I know.” you shrugged, “But for you, it’s worth it. Besides, it’s my job, isn’t it?”

“You beating the crap out of folks?”

“Protecting you!” You laughed, nudging him lightly, “I protect you because I love you!”

Crutchie smiled widely, eyes full of adoration, “I love you too, (Y/N), and I’ll protect you. We’ll protect one another.”

Taglist: @tina20213, @fandomsneverdie14

#crutchie #crutchie morris #newsies #crutchie imagine #crutchie morris imagine #newsies imagine #crutchie x reader #crutchie morris x reader #newsies x reader #mine #my story #not my gif

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messyscriptorium · 6 years

Text

Aperitivo. [M]

I’m still learning how to write good smut, so I thought I might write a quick thing for practise. I would love to hear some feedback because I don’t know if I’m doing it right (?) <3

Fandom: EXO

Type: Smut

Member: Kim Minseok (Xiumin)

Word count: 1,700

You’ve just set the tablecloth on the big wooden table of your dining room when a warm pair of hands grab you from behind. You smile but don’t make the intention of turning around because you’re sure of what he wants and you’re not going to give it to him. His hands slide from your waist to your hips and he squeezes them a little.

“Stop, Minseok,” you say, a hint of laughter in your voice, “your sister is about to arrive and we need to have things ready.”

You try to swap his hands away but they envelop you tighter, his head resting on your shoulder. You can feel him burying his nose in your hair and inhaling.

“But I want you now,” he whines, ”and we still have 30 minutes. That’s plenty of time for a quickie.”

“You’re such a romantic person,” you scoff. However, you turn around to face him, his arms still embracing you.

He looks amazing, as always. His jet-black hair is combed into a comma hairstyle, part of his forehead on sight. His lips and little nose are scrunched up adorably into a pout and his eyes are looking at you with desire. Those piercing dark eyes that you love so much. He’s wearing a white shirt tucked inside a pair of jeans. Having such a handsome boyfriend makes you constantly feel self-conscious. Like you’re not enough for him. Lucky for you, he doesn’t seem to have those type of thoughts because he always looks at you like you’re the sun. Maybe he’s gone blind from all the staring and that’s the reason he can’t see you properly.

He gives you a quick peck on the lips while he rocks you delicately from side to side.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes going soft. Your heart thrums in your chest and you can feel your face heating up.

“You’re only saying that now because you want to fuck me against the nearest wall,” you tease him, smacking his chest lightly.

“That’s not true, sexy. I haven’t said ‘I love you’ because I want to fuck you against the nearest wall. I’ve said it because I want to fuck you on that table,” he finishes with a smug smile, pointing at the table behind you.

“Oh, yeah?” you say in a provoking tone, closing the distance between the both of you.

The kiss is slow, sensual, and you can hear him humming in appreciation against your lips. His mouth tastes like the cheese he’s been eating before in the kitchen and you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue along his lower lip. His hands move to cup your ass while he pushes you to the table. When your back hits the border, you let out a small squeak and you put your hands in the back of Minseok’s neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

You part, panting, looking at each other with hungry eyes and your breaths mixed together. He’s always had this effect on you, he’s always driven you crazy.

You feel your body shake in anticipation and your hold on Minseok’s hair tightens, bringing him down to your lips for another kiss.

“Hurry up, Minseok, would you?” you gasp against his lips when you feel his hands playing with the hem of your skirt.

“Oh, who’s the romantic now, uh?”

But he bends down a little to lift your skirt up until it’s resting around your waist and he palms your butt in appreciation. You giggle out of pure nervousness and he grabs your other butt cheek picking you up to put you on the table. You open your legs for him so he can fit between them and he kisses you once more. You could spend your life kissing him, you’re sure, but right now you want another thing.

Your hands explore down his chest until you find the leather belt he’s wearing and you unfasten it in a hurry. You can caress the tip of his already hard cock with your fingers and he let out a soft groan, his eyes on you. Your blood feels hot, your whole body feels hot and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage, excited. His hot breath hits your face when he buries his nose in your neck.

“I want you, babe,” he says, lightly biting your earlobe and you let a soft moan escape your lips. His hands are caressing your thighs, playing with the elastic of your underwear when they go up.

“I want you, too,” you gasp when his fingers come closer to your core, but not as close as you want them to be. “Please, Minseok.”

His hands finally tug on your panties and you lift your butt from the table to help him get rid of them. His fingers tease your entrance, spreading your wetness, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the electrifying contact.

“Ah, you’re always so wet. So, so wet.”

If it weren’t for the fact that his mouth is close to your ear, you wouldn’t have heard him. He is clearly talking to himself. He seems mesmerized by the way your pussy feels against his fingers, slippery, hot and ready for him. You can feel his strong arm around your waist, keeping you close to him while his other hand is still teasing your slit. You hook your ankles behind his ass and move your hips to gain more friction and he growls.

“Oh, baby girl, don’t do that, I want to take my time with you.”

Your hands are gripping at the collar of his shirt, mostly to help you gain balance and partly to bring his mouth back to yours.

“We don’t have time,” you speak against his lips, both of you panting through the heated kiss, your teeth hitting slightly with his. “Your sister’s on her way.”

He whines a little bit at this, but he moves his fingers from your cunt to undo his trousers, you can hear the sound of the fabric hitting the floor. You sob at the loss of contact and he chuckles.

“Patience, baby girl.”

“Fuck patience,” you murmur, annoyed.

You finally pull down his underwear, his cock springs free for you to grab and he sighs in pleasure. You start to stroke him slowly, spreading his precum all over his shaft. He moans when you squeeze the base of his dick at the same time you caress the tip of its head with the other hand. He wastes no second in putting his fingers back to work. His thumb moves to your slit to gather some lubrication from your juices before sliding up to your clit and rubbing your bundle of nerves. You jolt at the feeling, your hand faltering in its strokes.

“Please, Minseok, please,” you beg, your voice a desperate whisper. “Just fuck me already; I want to feel you inside me.”

The grunt that leaves his lips is almost inhuman. He tugs on your hair, exposing your neck for him to bite and you cry out at the sensation. You guide him to position his cock at your entrance and the pushes.

The first thrust is too much for you, his dick doesn’t fully go in so he just moves back and thrusts into you again. This time he fills you to the hilt and you moan aloud. This feels delicious. Your feet, stranded behind him, push his hips towards you, wanting him even deeper.

“I could spend all day between your legs,” Minseok cries, his eyes fixed on your face, his lower lip between his teeth. You rest your forehead in his shoulder, mewling in pure bliss.

His hands grab your hips to keep you in place while his thrusts pick up a fast pace. Your legs start to ache and shake from having them up in the air. He notices and he quickly hooks his arms behind your knees, forcing you to lie down on the table.

“Relax… just lie back and let me make you cum. Fuck, you look so sexy like this.”

God, you love when he talks dirty. You grip his forearms and you can feel his muscles tensing under your touch. The sound of flesh hitting flesh makes you even hornier, his dick is filling you up completely and his balls slap against your ass in a luscious way. With every push of Minseok’s hips a sob of pleasure forms in your throat.

“Unbutton your shirt, sexy. I want to see you play with your tits.”

You can hardly do as he says, but you manage to undo the first few buttons and pull your bra down, exposing your breasts to him. Your boobs move at the same rhythm of his thrusts and you pinch one of your own nipples. You whimper and he shoves his member harder into you.

“Oh, just like that, Minseok,” you moan, ”harder, please, faster.”

He complies, his thumb goes back to rubbing your clit while his hips go faster and you can feel your orgasm building. You roll your nipples between your fingers, enjoying the sensation and after a few more seconds, your climax washes over you. You let out a long, loud groan, your back arching because of the thrilling sensation, your walls clenching around him. Minseok is still fucking you but you can feel he’s getting sloppy, his thrusts erratic, and he comes not long after you do, with a growl.

You both stay still, looking at each other and he smiles down at you, his hand caressing your cheek while you both get down from your high.

“I love you.”

There’s so much tender in his voice you are left speechless. Your heart is on your throat and you have to cough a little to keep you from crying. How did you manage to find someone who loves you this much?

“I love you, too.”

He sighs in content and pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, feeling his cum running down between your butt cheeks, and you hear him laugh.

“Honey, I’m sorry I have to tell you this, but I’m afraid we might need to change the tablecloth.”

#exowritersnet #kpoptrashtag #exo #kim minseok #xiumin #minseok #exo scenarios #minseok scenario #xiumin scenario #exo fanfic #minseok fanfic #xiumin fanfic #exo smut #minseok smut #xiumin smut #smut #exo-cbx #exo cbx #fanfic

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sleepyau · 7 years

Text

enamigo pt. 3 ~ kim doyoung

genre: college!au, angst

word count: 3061

prompt: less of arch nemeses -> something else entirely

warning: language, drinking

author’s note: well this ending is honestly completely different from how i first imagined it. maybe one day in the future i will post the original story line for this au... anywhom i hope you enjoy and thank you for reading <3 p.s. stan kim doyoung and the rest of the nct boys because they’re amazing

parts: one ~ two ~ three

You had never really been the partying type. For as long as you could remember, you had only gone to parties for one reason: to watch over your friends. It was undoubtedly your most ‘mom friend’ characteristic, but you weren’t shy about it. If some perv’s hand was wandering a little too high, or if their eyes were roaming a little too much, you’d be the first person to walk over and put them in their place. Sometimes, it bothered your friends. Other times, it saved them from doing something they’d regret.

One night, your protective instincts stretched out further than they ever had before.

You were standing towards the edge of the makeshift dance floor, bobbing your head to the music and scrolling through your phone. You would look up occasionally to make sure nobody was doing anything stupid, but it was, overall, a pretty calm night.

As you were about to pass another level of Cut the Rope, you heard something that sparked up your inner caretaker.

“No thanks, I don’t want to,” somebody was saying.

“Come on, live a little!”

“Get off of me!”

You looked up to see Kim Doyoung, a student in the same grade as you, trying to pry an unfamiliar girl off of his arm.

“Why are you being so frigid? Just come on!” the girl persisted, beginning to drag him towards the stairs.

“I really don’t want to.”

You finally had enough of the scene when the girl quite obviously dug her nails into his arm to stop his protesting. You shoved your phone into your pocket and started walking over to them. “Hey, baby,” you called out.

Doyoung glanced at you in confusion, but you just smiled and wrapped a comparatively more gentle hand around his upper arm.

“I’ve been looking all over for you. Who’s this?” you asked, quickly turning your attention to the girl.

“I-I don’t know,” Doyoung answered.

“Well, you’ve certainly got a strong grip, huh? Why don’t you let go of his arm now and go sit in the bathroom to heavily rethink your whole maiming technique?” you sniped, ending with a sugary sweet smile.

The girl shot a bitter glare at you, but nonetheless extracted her demon nails from his skin. You winced at the small drop of blood that rolled out upon her leaving, but didn’t move to wipe it off until she was a safe distance away.

“I could’ve handled that,” Doyoung mumbled, not making eye contact with you.

“Oh, I know. I just thought my way was much quicker, don’t you agree?” you smiled congenially. It took him a moment to return the gesture.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“No problem, Doyoung.”

You shut your eyes in an effort to block out the memories from over a year and a half before that wouldn’t stop running through your head. You knew that what happened in the past should stay in the past, but obviously your subconscious had yet to get the memo.

“Y/N, can you help me with this essay?” Johnny asked you, dragging you back into focus.

“Sure, what can I do?” you replied easily.

He slid his laptop over to you. “I can’t tell if this makes sense or not.”

You scanned over his paragraph, stopping every now and then to add a comma or remove a word, then shook your head, “No, it sounds great. Great job.”

“Thanks!” he beamed. His smile quickly fell and he stood up abruptly. “Oh no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ann’s walking over here like a bull and I am not getting killed today. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You didn’t bother turning around to check if he was right. You instead waited for Ann to walk the full way, then circle around the table to sit in front of you.

“You really are a bitch,” she began.

“What did I do now?”

“I had to find out from Taeil that you and Doyoung dated?”

“Here.” You sat down next to Doyoung and gave him half of a Twix bar.

“Which half is this?” he asked.

“Uh, I don’t know. I think it’s the left, why?”

“I only eat the right half,” he informed you.

You raised your eyebrows at him, then said, “Well, what if I only eat the right half?”

“Well, then that sucks for you, because the right half is mine already.”

“Except I have it right now, don’t I? So I win?”

Doyoung leaned forward and took a bite out of the chocolate bar in your hands, “Now I win.”

“You ass! Now give me a bite of yours!” you demanded.

“No problem, considering it’s yours now.”

You both glared at each other for a minute, then you leaned up and pulled a coin out of your back pocket. “Okay, let’s flip a coin; if it’s heads, I get the right side. If it’s tails, you get the left side. Deal?”

“Deal.”

You smiled at your own private trick, then flipped the coin. It rolled for a few seconds, then landed on tails.

“Oh, sucks for you!” you cheered, pulling the right side closer to your chest. “Guess you’ll just have to get used to the taste of defeat.”

“You may have won the battle, Y/N, but I will win the war!”

After that, you both settled down and pressed play on some random music video on Doyoung’s laptop. It only took a few moments for him to pause it again, however.

“Oh, you little cheat,” he finally said. You laughed shamelessly as he pouted, “Redo!”

“Sorry, kiddo. It’s too late for that.” You held up the empty Twix packet then laughed even harder. “Took you long enough to get it!”

“That’s not fair! Let’s make another deal then!”

“Fine, fine. Lemme guess: heads, I throw away the wrapper, tails, you watch me throw it away?” you teased.

“No, that’s too predictable,” Doyoung dismissed. He thought for a minute, then smiled shyly. “Okay, I have it.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“If it’s heads, you go out with me. If it’s tails, I’ll go out with you.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. You only get one redo, you know?” you laughed.

“I’m being serious.”

Your smile immediately fell. His eyes were honest, and he wasn’t laughing, but it still felt like it should’ve been a joke.

“Doyoung...”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t pretend like you don’t know there’s something between us - something that makes us more than ‘just friends’,” Doyoung immediately protested.

“I’m not-”

“And even if you don’t like me that much right now, it’s okay! We don’t have to go super fast or anything like that - we can take it slow. And besides, I think I like you enough for the both of us. For real, I’ve liked you for a long time - even before that party. I’m pretty sure I fell for you at first sight, when I saw you in class for the first time. I mean - not in a creepy way or anything! Just... Why are you laughing?”

You hid your smile behind your hand and answered between your giggles, “You’re ranting, Doyoung. And really fast, too. It’s adorable, really.”

“Adorable enough for you to go out with?” he asked again.

You rolled your eyes, “I was going to say yes, anyways.”

“Y/N!”

You zoned back in to see Ann’s angry face across from you, and groaned, “I didn’t keep it from you intentionally, I promise.”

“So what, it just never came up?” she asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah. We didn’t really go out of our way to tell people about it, even when we were still dating. Yeri knew because she was my roommate at the time, and the other girls just asked me about our history once. It just happened that you weren’t there at that time. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret until you told me you liked him,” you explained.

“Why the hell would you do that? I made a complete ass of myself and acted like a total bitch! If I had known you two had history, I wouldn’t have even looked at him!” she yelled.

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you! I knew you wouldn’t try anything if you thought it would hurt me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not my place to keep him from being happy! I already hurt him once, I didn’t want to hurt him again by keeping such a great girl from liking him.”

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

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Doyoung asked you gently, pulling your hands down from where they were covering your face.

“No. I can’t believe this happened. I’ve never, never failed a test before. Not in my entire life,” you cried. Doyoung wiped your tears away with the edge of his sleeve and pulled you closer to his chest.

“You’ll be okay, Y/N. It’s one test, and it’ll hurt your grade, but that professor loves you! I’m sure she’ll give you extra credit if you asked - or, maybe even let you take it again.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I shouldn’t have failed in the first place!”

“You couldn’t help it,” Doyoung tried to soothe you again. It was clear that he wasn’t understanding what you were implying.

“Doyoung, I didn’t study for that test because I was hanging out with you. And then, I couldn’t even focus during the test because we stayed up late last night talking.”

“What... What are you trying to say?”

“You’re too much of a distraction for me, Doyoung. School needs to be my priority right now,” you whispered.

“Is this- I mean, are you-”

“I’m breaking up with you, Doyoung. I’m sorry.”

“But I- surely there’s a better way?”

“I don’t think there is,” you shook your head.

“But... I love you, Y/N,” Doyoung’s voice cracked as he tried not to cry. “I don’t understand, I thought you loved me too. And if we love each other then we can make it through this - I’ll help you study! I’m great at studying, and I’m really good in that subject.”

“I-” you stopped yourself before you could finish your sentence. You knew telling him you loved him too would only work to hinder your purpose, even if it was the truth, so you swallowed the words and instead spat out, “You need to leave now, Doyoung. I need to start studying so that I can retake my test.”

“Y/N-”

“Go.”

“...and then that was it,” you finished telling Ann the story. “We stopped talking after that, and then when he switched majors into one that was similar to mine, it was an immediate clash.”

“So, what? You both just started hating each other?” she asked.

“I guess. It wasn’t real hatred, it was just competitiveness that was fueled by past events,” you shrugged.

“Doesn’t it bother you? Clearly neither of you actually stopped liking the other-”

You were quick to cut her off, “Oh, no. Trust me, I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me. It was a long time ago, almost two years now.” Your words were convincing, but you weren’t sure you believed them. “Don’t let what’s happened in the past stop you from getting with him now.”

“If you don’t like him now then why were you jealous?”

“Because you got what I couldn’t have? I mean, of course Doyoung isn't something to be had but... You are able to date him and I wasn’t. I guess I was just feeling bitter about it.”

“‘Was’?”

“Yes, ‘was’. I’m over it now. I feel better after talking it out with you, and with him last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t do that sooner,” you lied through your teeth.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I was being a total brat,” Ann returned your sentiment, and you smiled. “Are you sure it’s okay if we keep going out? The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

“Yes, I’m sure! Look, he’s coming over now. Be cool,” you warned, pasting a fake smile onto your face. “Hey, Doyoung.”

“Uh, hey, Y/N,” he replied hesitantly. He stopped at the side of the table, and you itched to push him towards Ann, but not as much as you wished to pull him closer to you.

“Are you guys going to class right now?” you asked.

“Yeah. Are you ready?” Doyoung directed the question to Ann, who nodded pleasantly and stood up.

“Thanks for talking to me about... stuff, Y/N. I’ll see you later,” she waved, and then they both walked off in a halo of golden sunlight.

You took a shaky breath in to keep your tears at bay, then comforted yourself, “Good job, Y/N, you did the right thing.”

As you watched Ann laugh at something Doyoung said, you recalled one last memory that you didn’t share with Ann - that you didn’t share with anyone, in fact. It was a moment that was so private and personal that it could have qualified as a secret you kept even from yourself, at times. You were sure that Doyoung had since forgotten about it, but now you cherished it with all of your heart.

“Hello?” you greeted. Doyoung had called you about thirty times in the span of one hour, and you finally grew weak enough to answer his call.

“Y/N,” Doyoung sighed. You had promised yourself that you would remain strong and steady throughout the entire call, but you broke just at the sound of his voice.

“Hey,” you repeated.

“Hi.”

“Did you have anything else to say?” you whispered sarcastically.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“Are you drunk?” you asked, noticing a small slur to his words.

“A little. Maybe. How many times have I called you?”

“Around 30.”

“Then I’m that much drunk,” he laughed, though it was obviously more out of confusion than actual humor.

“You need to call somebody,” you advised.

“I’m calling you right now!”

“No, somebody who can help you get home okay. Call Yuta or Taeyong, maybe. Wait, don’t call Taeyong, he’ll kill you if you throw up in his car.”

Doyoung didn’t say anything for a moment, and you thought he hung up the call until he, quite soberly, said, “You always used to take care of me when I got out of hand.”

You inhaled deeply to absorb the strong impact of his words, then shakily replied, “That was a while ago, Doyoung. Now you need to find somebody else to take care of you.”

“But, baby, I don’t want nobody but you,” he slurred.

“Oh my, you’re so drunk,” you laughed.

“Oh, God. Do that again,” he suddenly begged.

“Do what?”

“Laugh. I haven’t heard your laugh in so long. It’s my favorite sound, ever. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well I could-” Doyoung coughed, then continued, “I could listen to your laugh every single minute of every single day and not get tired of it. It’s the prettiest sound in the world. You’re even - it’s like singing! You laugh better than I sing!”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, considering you’ve never sung for me,” you pointed out.

“Do you want me to right now?” he offered.

“Are you even able to?”

“Of course! Okay... hm... Oh, I know!” Doyoung dramatically cleared his throat, then began, “I wanna be with you. Oh, I wanna be with you. Through the rain and snow I wanna be with you. Oh, I wanna be with you. And I really, really wanna be with you. I'm so very lonely without you. I can hardly breathe when you are away. Without you I might sleep away all day...”

By the time he finished singing, you were crying uncontrollably.

“No! I didn’t want to make you cry!” he exclaimed, and there was shuffling on the other end before he said, “I just wanted to tell you how I feel.”

“I feel the same way, Doyoung, that’s why I’m crying,” you confessed, wiping your tears away with your own shirtsleeves.

There was a pause, and then, “If you’re sad, and I’m sad, then why don’t we just get back together?”

“I already told you, Doyoung. I need to focus on school. I can’t...”

“But, I’ll keep my distance! I’ll only call you once a day, and I won’t bother you when you’re studying,” he said.

“You’re not the problem here. I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you can keep your distance just fine, but I can’t. I can’t control myself around you. I want to be with you always, you know? If you didn’t call me then I’d just spend the whole time thinking about what we would talk about if you did call me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t focus on school because you were too clingy, it was because I can’t think of anything except for you.”

“Can’t we just go on a break until summer?” Doyoung tried again.

“I can’t do that to you, Doyoung. I can’t just string you along like that,” you sighed.

“But it’s not stringing along. I’ll always love you, even if we’re not together. You know that, right?”

You were crying again. “You don’t make it easy to be broken up, neither. You’re way too perfect - always making me miss you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not like there’s anything you can do to stop it, unless you start treating me like an asshole all the time,” you rolled your eyes.

“Would that make it easier for you?” he quietly asked.

“I don’t know, maybe?” You thought about it for a minute. “Maybe... I can pretend to hate you, and you can pretend to hate me, and then we wouldn’t be feeling any of the remaining sadness because we would be too busy hating each other.”

“If that would make it easier.”

“I don’t know if it would, but it doesn’t even matter - I doubt you’ll even remember this in the morning,” you sighed.

“I wish we could just be happy,” he whispered.

“Me, too, Doyoung. Me too.”

It was quiet for several minutes, and you were about to hang up and call somebody to go find him, when a small voice carried through the phone:

“I will make sure to keep my distance. Say I love you when you’re not listening, and how long can we keep this up?”

#thank you so much for reading #doyoung #kim doyoung #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct imagine #kpop imagine #kpop au #kpop scenario

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thewarmbloodedvulcan · 7 years

Text

How 2 Write Gooder: Episode I - “How to Write A Novel - Part #I - The Idea Phase”

If you’re here, you probably are a writer. Or you just love the fact that I’m an omnipotent perfect being with an amazing sense of humor, quick wit, outstanding humility, a penchant for writing, and an oxford comma enthusiast, despite the fact that we’ve never met. But if you’ve journeyed here from the far recesses of the Tumblrverse to the smaller, yet still vast Writer Tumblrverse, I should make your stay worthwhile, so sit back, relax, and read on as I detail How 2 Write Gooder. This is the first episode of a segment I’m just now creating with my mind, because I’m a writer, “How to Write a Novel

The first step to any piece of fiction is the initial idea - the spark of creativity that turns your mind ablaze until all the whisky is burt up and your brain is a white, ash-caked soulless desolate wasteland, because let’s face it, us writerfolk become consumed by our manuscripts and ideas. But here lies the crux of the issue- how do I get ideas?

Really? REALLY? It’s your job as a writer to be creative, to think of stuff and ideas 24/7. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart didn’t get to become one of the world’s most renowned composers by sitting on his ass all day until inspiration suddenly hit him-he was constantly thinking of music with every waking minute. You should be the same way. (Social life, what’s that? Say WHAT? People enjoy spending time with me, FINE I guess). However, you aren’t completely SOL if you rack your brain and are coming up dry, although that is a little concerning.

Find what it is that inspires you- whether that be reading other books written by authors you enjoy, going outside and perhaps playing basketball, going for a jog, or riding a bike, or listening to music. The decision is ultimately up to you. One thing that I recommend is taking a long shower or bath. Water is therepeutic and relaxing. How many times have you just lost yourself in your thoughts in the shower or bath? Probably a lot. This is because when you’re in the shower or bath, the primal, animalistic part of the human brain realizes that it’s not in danger, and thus you become less uptight and stressed, and are more relaxed and kind of like a complete mind-blob. Ideas may come to you in the bath. Let them. But don’t jump up as soon as you get an idea. Let it sink in. Let it fester and permeate your entire being. Let it ferment for a while as you lay, still relaxed in the tub. More ideas will come to you, and more after that. Once you have what you believe to be a sufficient amount of ideas for this story, events, characters, places, et cetera, you are ready for the second phase: the thought dumping phase, which will be covered in my next installment of “How to Write a Novel”, if not my next “How to Write Gooder”.

One last piece of advice I have regarding ideas is this: write what you want to read, not what you want to write. You may have heard the old adage “write what you want to write”. I have too. However, I find this advice counterproductive for one main reason: If you only write what you want to write, your book could very well wind up as non-stop sex scenes, non-stop fight scenes, or non-stop streams of dialogue, or anything else I’m not mentioning, and then your book is without any substance, characters or narrative. “But Mr. WarmBloodedVulcan,” I hear you saying “Nobody would do that, that’s just silly.” You’d be surprised.

So write what you want to read, not what you want to write. This inevitably means your gonna have to write stuff you hate writing, or find boring. Get over it. I’m sorry I can’t be nicer about it, but seriously. If you want to grow as a writer, you’re going to have to write stuff you’re not good at, or you hate writing. We all are scared of failure. We all wish we were the best writer in the world. Sometimes, we want to curl up into a ball and cry. Fear of failure is normal. You know what you do? You write the damn thing anyway. Garbage can be edited and molded into something amazing. Michelangelo’s “David” in Florence started out as a rectangular chunk of rock. Now, it’s one of the most recognized marble statues of all time. The Sistine Chapel started out as a blank ceiling.

While I can’t guarantee you’ll be the next Michelangelo, or JK Rowling, or the next Stephen King, Jane Austen or William Shakespeare, what I can guarantee is that you will regret not trying. Again, garbage can be worked with. A blank screen cannot. But I’ve veered off topic. What does writing what you want to read truly entail?

Well, have you ever read a story where after you finished it you enjoyed it, but you hypothesized about how the story would be different if it took *this angle* or *that angle* or instead of plot twist X, the author went with plot twist Y, or what if this person didn’t die, or that other guy did? I know I have. You’ll notice that I’m being pretty vague with my descriptions, this is intentional. This is a feeling you should get while reading fiction. Use this to your advantage. Obviously, don’t plagiarize. I don’t condone plagiarism or intellectual theft in any form, and find it cheating. But what you can do is use similar elements from different books and put your own spin, or take it in an angle you wished the books you read did.

For example: How many books are there with dragons in them? More than a metric ton, but I guarantee the way dragons are dealt with in one story versus another are completely different. In “Harry Potter” dragons are fearsome, untamable creatures that require special spells and magical objects to control, and are used to guard bank vaults. In “The Lord of the Rings”, or “The Hobbit”, I should say, the dragon Smaug is the villain. In George RR Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire” series, better known as “Game of Thrones”, Dragons are fierce creatures, tamable only by the noble family who’s blood of the dragons, House Targaryen. The objective is to find certain elements from the genre, and put your own spin on them so they feel fresh, new, and not elements indicative of the genre, in other words, cliche and trite. It’s hard. It’s really hard to come up with worlds, characters and events out of nothing, but then again, writing a book is really, really, REALLY, hard. We write because we want to-because we love writing, and love sharing our stories with the rest of the world……we might also be masochists.

But the bottom line is-WRITE THE BOOK. No one’s gonna motivate you but you. You’ll encounter a whole lot of shit on the way that’s gonna try and bring you down-haters, naysayers, crippling self-doubt, the works. The only thing you can do is write on. The more you put off writing for lack of inspiration, or just not feeling like it, the less likely it is you’ll achieve your goal of writing a book. I lock myself in my room and tell myself I’m not allowed to go outside my room for a glass of water or food until my scene was done. It took from 6 to 8:30 at night, but the scene was done. Hold yourself accountable. Set goals for yourself. But above all, believe in yourself. You’re the only one who will…at least for now.

That’s it for today! So what are the five things we learned today? 1. Me and succinct do NOT mix, 2. Write what you want to read, not what you want to write, 3. Writing a book is hard, and you’ll inevitably encounter a lot of hardship along the way, 4. Hold yourself accountable, set goals for yourself, and exercise every muscle of self control to complete them, and 5. No one will believe in yourself, but you. And maybe me. If you’re good enough. Maybe. (You are.) And remember: if you’re ever down, if the haters ever get to you, use their criticism as motivation. Resist the urge to rip their spine out of their throat, and channel that rage into writing the most amazing book popular, because there is nothing better than being able to say “Hey, jerk, you didn’t beleive in me, well, I finished the damn book–I TOLD YOU SO.” But then before you say that remember not to stoop to their level, and take the high ground.

So that’s all! Happy reading and happy writing!

‘Till Next Time,

The Warm Blooded Vulcan

Live Long and Prosper!

#amwriting #writing #writingtips #writing advice #advice #writing tips #how to write a novel #how to write a book

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katischuo · 7 years

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all the questions you havent answered yet AND extra Q-fav thing bout' the oxford comma

2. what would you name your future kids? I’ve always had the name Angela Ridley in my back pocket as a girls name. However, I don’t know what I would do for a boy. Zachary Dylan was my go to, but I feel weird naming a child with the same names as people I know.

3. do you miss anyone? HELLA. Physically, I miss my boyfriend, as I haven’t seen him in about 2 years. But I really miss this guy named Gryphon that I met on Gaia Online (I was really into it in middle school and early high school). He was like an older brother to me when I was 15 or so but then one day, he sent me a message that he was being evicted from his apartment and I haven’t talked to him since. I really miss him. He was always so comforting.

4. what are you looking forward to? The potential of going out to Colorado this summer and the opportunity to catch up on reading all the books I have stacked in my to-read pile, as well as watching some movies and shows from my to-watch list.

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile? Always? I don’t know about that but both Iris and Andy are up there.

6. is it hard for you to get over someone? Gotdamn, you bet.

8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? NO THAT’S CRAZY TALK I TOTALLY DIDN’T CRY AND SCREAM INTO MY PILLOW BECAUSE THE DAMN RADIATOR WAS SO LOUD IN MY DORM ROOM crazy.

9. who did you last see in person? My sister.

10. are you good at hiding your feelings? God, no. As my dad always tells me, I wear my heart on my sleeve.

11. are you listening to music right now? Nah. I’m actually waiting for an episode of Breaking Bad to buffer.

12. what is something you want right now? I want Andy to come here so I can cuddle with him because I am starving for physical affection.

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you? Last week? I hugged Justin after not seeing him for months.

15. personality description Fuck. Um, I’m a nerdy science girl who just wants to know everything about everything. I’m stubborn to a fault and want to fix everyone’s problems, even though I can’t even fix my own.

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t? This is only my life.

17. opinion on insecurities. I hate them. I have so many and I hate them.

18. do you miss how things were a year ago? Not in the slightest.

20. what is your favourite song at the moment? Idk something off of After Laughter. Probably Caught in the Middle? Or Pools.

21. age and birthday? I’m 20 years old and my birthday is February 13th.

23. fear(s) Mostly failure and rejection.

24. height I’m about 5′10″

26. idol(s) I’m going to have to reference you to my role models question because I really don’t see much of a difference.

27. things i hate Bigotry, suffering, and apathy.

29. favourite film(s) The Wind Rises and Moulin Rouge!

30. favourite tv show(s) The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones

31. 3 random facts 1) I try to carry a pencil with me when I read so I can mark sentences that strike a chord with me, so I can see where I was at mentally when I reread the book. 2) I have my library card number memorized. 3) I’m studying for a Linguistics minor purely out of the love for Linguistics.

32. are your friends mainly girls or guys? I think it’s pretty 50/50 now.

33. something you want to learn EVERYTHING. But right now, this moment, I really want to learn how to enjoy chemistry.

35. favourite subject Biology, more specifically, Anatomy and Physiology.

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill? 1) I want to persue medicine. 2) I want to at least be trilingual. 3) I want to get a fancy ass shower.

37. favourite actor/actress Me? A total slut for Natalie Dormer.

38. favourite comedian(s) John Mulaney? I don’t really keep up with comedians too much.

39. favourite sport(s) I love watching gymnastics! Participating-wise, swimming.

40. favourite memory Ohohohoo, this isn’t my favorite memory (I don’t want to get sappy here) but it definitely is one of my most precious memories. I was lounging on the couch, as one does, and my dad is standing at the open window in the living room. We’re talking about what a nice day it was and how beautiful the breeze was. He then proceeds to tell me how the air also smells beautiful and that it’s all thanks to Canada (as much of their weather comes down to us here in the ol’ Minnesota). Then he looks out the window and softly whispers “Thank you, Canada” and I fucking lost it.

41. relationship status Taken by an utter and complete nerd

42. favourite book(s) Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson and The Infernal Devices series by Cassandra Clare.

43. favourite song ever I’m going to stop you right there. I’m too indecisive for this.

44. age you get mistaken for Usually around 16 or 17.

45. how you found out about your idol role model Okay, here’s the story of how I stumbled upon Miss Angelina (albinwonderland) because it’s pretty obvious how I found out about my grandmother. Anyway, when I was 14 or so, Pewdiepie was just starting up and I watched him almost daily. Around this time, there was a competition called King of the Web or something like that, in which he was a part of. So of course, I go to the competition website and vote for him! I noticed with this competition that there was only one girl in the running and she had bright, bubblegum pink hair. Interested, I check out her YouTube channel and end up falling in love.

46. what my last text message says To my mother: “Are you on your way home? I was wondering if I should cook up dinner for Thomas and me or if I should just sit tight for a bit”

47. turn ons Common sense, passion, authenticity, confidence verging on cockiness (not really any physical turn ons for me)

48. turn offs Being an asshat, arrogance

49. where i want to be right now COLORADO

50. favourite picture of your idol I’m honestly too lazy to look for it, but it’s a picture on Angelina’s instagram of her wearing a Barbie crop top.

51. starsign Aquarius

52. something i’m talented at I’m pretty good at picking up new concepts. Like, I can do it pretty quickly, for the most part.

53. 5 things that make me happy 1) Naps 2) Vidy games 3) Books 4) Nice pens! 5) Puppies that get so exicted that the hop instead of walking.

55. tumblr friends Shit, you gonna make me @ some. Here are some of my favs: Andy @andu-senpai , Joe @jt-snow , Iris @howmanyletterscaniputinmyurl , Anya @vulpesnox , KP @royalslimefather , and Kalie @onthefrits

57. favourite animal(s) Giraffes, cows, and flamingos

58. description of my best friend Please refer to the description of my crush/boyfriend.

59. why i joined tumblr One of my friends recommended it to me.

60. ask me anything you want Favorite thing about the Oxford comma. It makes sentences less like to be misinterpretted and it’s cool enough to have a song about it (Oxford Comma by Vampire Weekend). In all honesty, I love the Oxford comma so much and those who don’t use it are WRONG.

#kenzie's ramblings #Anonymous

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subtletyislost · 7 years

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1. Tell us about your WIP!Currently I’m working on a lesbian romance novel about two girls in college,one is a double majoring in business and english education, the other doublemajors in computer science and astrophysics (the college she goes to doesn’t do“rocket science” or aeronautical engineering, so this is probably as close asshe’s going to get for programing rockets and theoretical space flightpaths/devices). The other major part of the story is that the MC (the rocketscientist) is searching for her missing brother at the same time.

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part aboutwriting?My favorite part about writing is that moment hen someone tells me eitherthat they like my writing or gives me some kind of critique/encouragement (yes,I actually like receiving constructive criticism). My least favorite part aboutwriting is trying find people to give that critique/trying to stay focusedenough to actually finish a story.

5. Top five formative books?I don’t know what this means but the books I read as a child that made mewant to write were: 1. The Magic Treehouse Series 2. Molly Moon’s IncredibleBook of Hypnotism 3. Bloody Jack 4. The Tale-Tell Heart (and other Edgar AllenPoe things) 5. The Little Princebooks that shaped my writing style/preferences though were 1. Molly Moon’sIncredible Book of Hypnotism 2. Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witchof the West 3. Welcome to Night Vale: The Novel 4. The Hitchhiker’s Guide tothe Galaxy 5. Martin the Warrior

6. Favorite character you’ve written?Fandom: Sera, Leliana, Josephine, Cole (Dragon Age), Jack, Liara, Peebee (MassEffect), Pharah (overwatch), Raven (Teen Titans), Lara Croft (Tomb Raider)Original: Cassandra Tesla (the MC of the wip from question 1), Scion, Xia,Sage, Ruka, and Nvros

8. Do you have anywriting buddies or critique partners? yes! @wardenpharah @snowstorm-thirteen @uswhovianswillholdasiton and acouple others who I mostly talk to on discord

9. Favorite/leastfavorite tropes? Favorite: I don’t know trope names, but there’s trope that I didn’t know was atrope until I came across it in a few fics and a podcast where basicallysomeone is separated from their spouse and when they meet back up with themthey’re like “I missed you so much! Btw I kind of accidentally adopted thiskid/[wayward character]”; that trope “remove your weapons” *pulls a ridiculousamount of weapons out of nowhere* “ALL of them” *reluctantly hands over one ortwo more*; “will this work?” “I have no idea” *thing explodes* “was it supposedto do that?” “I don’t know but it was awesome!”Least favorite: that trope where they destroy the MCs hometown/house/familyjust so the MC has nothing tying them back to where they began and then proceedto do absolutely nothing with that plotwise and it affects nothing but gettingthe MC to actually leave their town

10. Pick an author(or writing friend) to co-write a book with@snowstorm-thirteen or @wardenpharah or one of my new friends from discordwhose tumblr I’ve forgotten

12. Which story ofyours do you like best? why? Original Works: either Light in the Dark or The Forgotten Realm of Dreams orThe Invisibles, because they’re all really really gay and really really nerdyFanfic: Is This Home Yet is without a doubt my best work ever. I’m consideringrewriting it as a novel. Wouldn’t be hard because the only thing making it afanfic and not an original work is that I used the two mcs to basically justget more attention.

13. Describe yourwriting processIt tends to be: sit down, open a notebook/grab paper/open scrivener/word/googledocs, stare at the page, start writing, erase things, write different things,listen to music, check tumblr, write more, somehow things get done or they don’tget done.

15. How do you dealwith self-doubt when writing? look at paper, say “I hate this”, cry, complain to anyone who will listen,stop writing for however long that takes, go back to writing, say “this is bad”,complain more, talk shit out, then it branches: if feel better, keep writing! Ifnot, stop writing and play video games then come back to writing two or threedays later!

16. Cover love/dreamcovers? I love me some good book covers, but professional ones are expensive orrequire talent that I do not have. Light in the Dark would be good with eithera mysterious cover, cover with a bunch of letters and envelopes, a soft gaycover with two girls that fit Cass and Ruka’s descriptions, or a cover that’s likethe soft gay cover but with space and video games/a computer incorporated intoit.

17. What things(scenes/topics/character types) are you most comfortable writing? scenes: anything not smut or fightingtopics: I’m comfortable writing about anything except incest/ddlg|mmlb/anythingthat falls in the realm of ‘not my thing to talk about’ (ie. I will write transcharacters, but not specifically about trans issues—nonbinary/agender issuesthough I will; I’ll write mlm characters but not specifically about theirissues; I’ll write poc or religious characters but I won’t write specificallyabout the issues that they face-without a lot of research and talking to peopleand such—because it’s just not my place. To explain a bit, I mean that I’llwrite characters that are not like me, and will do research to make sure I don’taccidentally do that in an offensive manner, but I won’t tell their stories forthem because I am not them. I hope this makes sense.)character types: women or nonbinary individuals, rebels, nerds, autistics,abuse victims/survivors, lesbians, ace people, the secretly nerdy femme, thesecretly nerdy butch, the secretly nerdy anyone,the tough girl who likes soft things, the soft girl who will kick your ass, thereptile person (person who likes reptiles), pirate, scientist, explorer, ectthere’s a lot of character types I love to write

25. What’s yourworldbuilding process like? this deserves its own post

21. What aspect ofyour writing are you most proud of? characterization

22. Tell us about thebooks on your “to write” listmost of them are in some way all part of the same series, but not necessarilyconnected, and not necessarily linearly or direct successors. Some/most can be stand-alonethat just happen to take place in the same universe as the others

27. Every writer’sleast favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you docertain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come upwith story ideas?Dreams. Most if not all my story inspiration and ideas come from dreams, therest come from songs or random thoughts that just get stuck in my head. To getmore inspired I play games, bounce ideas off my friends, listen to music, orsleep. It’s fairly easy for me to come up with ideas, almost as easy as comingup with characters *shoves my like 300 ocs into the closet*

28. How do you stayfocused on your own work and how do you deal with comparison?I don’t focus, that’s the problem that’s why there’s so much unfinished shit onmy ao3. Tbh I’m usually the one doing the comparing and I deal with it bylearning from the work I’m comparing mine to and improving.

30. Do you like toread books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick tonon-fiction/un-similar works?I don’t read. I can’t focus long enough to read. Instead I play video games inthe same genre or daydream or occasionally relisten to the Welcome To NightVale novel audiobook. I’m starting to branch out and try to find otheraudiobooks to listen to, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy is a pretty goodone on Audio.

33. What’s yourrevision/rewriting process like?draft one on one side of the screen, draft two on the other side of thescreen and literally rewriting draft one in draft 2. Sometimes I’ll rewrite onthe same document using markups like strikethrough instead of deleting thingsand other colors for the new additions, also lots and lots of sleeping andcrying, and soda (I don’t drink coffee).

34. Unpopular writingthoughts/opinions? Ernest Hemmingway sucks. He’s a terrible writer and you should not aspire towrite like him nor should you look up to him. Said is a perfectly valid word.The Oxford Comma is required not optional. Adverbs are not bad, use them if youwant. First person is a valid form to write in. Parenthetical asides (likethis) are just as valid as hyphenated asides—like this—and should be used if itfits the story/narration style. If your pov character doesn’t understand theforeign language the other character is speaking, putting the words in theother language in the text with a footnote translation is just as valid as “hesaid something in [language] but MC didn’t understand it.” Stalking is notromantic. Unhappy endings do not belong in the romance genre. Your charactercan be gay without complaining about it or it making their life hard. You canhave more than one minority character! You characters never going to thebathroom is unrealistic. Mosquitoes are a thing and if your character isoutside in the summer they had better damn well be protecting themselvesagainst them or slapping at at least one. A romance story with a character whowon’t take no for an answer, who isn’tthe antagonist/big (or little) bad, is not romantic. A romance story where thecharacters kiss or have sex when one of them clearly doesn’t want to, is notromantic. BOTH characters in your romance story need to change by the end ofthe story, that’s just good characterization. You can have polyamorouscharacters, but we are not a kink/fetish, if you don’t actually support actualpolyamorous people in real life don’t write about us in your fiction it’sdisrespectful and you’re probably going to do it wrong. Cheating is notromantic. Asexuals exist, Aromantics exist, Bisexuals exist. Romance doesn’tneed sex. … I’ll stop now, I have a lot of things I could say here.

35. Post the lastsentence you wroteShe blinked them back, willing herself not to cry.

36. Post a snippetCassandra had never been one for plans, if she had she might have actuallytalked with her roommate before move-inday. Even so, despite not planning things much, she did have goals. Her goal onmove-in day was simple: move in, preferably alone. She’d been under theimpression that she was the first one to arrive and that her roommate wouldn’tbe coming until later in the day. So, it was a shock to her when she arrived ather dorm room and found it was already open. She tapped her foot against the doorto get the attention of whoever was inside the room. She couldn’t quite see whomight be in there through the boxes that she was carrying.

“I hope you don’t mind,” a soft voice from inside the roomsaid, “it’s just that it was easier to leave the door open than to have to keepunlocking it.”

Cassandra tilted her head as she walked into the room,lowering the boxes just enough to see over them as she did so. “It’s notrouble,” she replied. “Who are you?”

The girl she was addressing, that she assumed was herroommate, was probably the most delicate looking girl she’d ever seen—wearing alight blue sundress with a ribbon around her waist and matching Mary Janes. Inher mind, the girl gave the impression of the enchanted rose from Beauty and the Beast; almost more likean idea than a person. She had long dark blonde—or was it light brown—hair withfaint, but still visible, red and dark brown streaks running through it, asthough it contained a fire within its French braid. Her smile was soft, barelyeven visible, and she looked like she might have played a sport in highschool—probably archery or fencing. Her brown eyes sparkled in the light fromthe window, like a stone of topaz against a blanket of snow. Never in her life,had Cassandra ever seen a girl that made her wonder if she was staring, but shehad now.

37. Do you ever writelong handed or do you prefer to type everything?100% depends on the story, and the day, and whether or not my eyes hurt.Sometimes ideas flow better on paper, sometimes typed, sometimes they flowbetter when I talk them out those days are bad for writing but good for gettingideas.

42. How many draftsdo you usually write before you feel satisfied? 100% depends on if it’s original work or fanfiction. Original works I’m usuallynot satisfied even after 6, 7, or even 10 drafts. Fanfiction, sometimes I justpost up the first draft without caring, sometimes I’m more satisfied with a seconddraft. It usually doesn’t go beyond that.

48. Do you prefer towrite skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut itback?I just write. Usually my second draft is longer and more detailed than thefirst, and by the 5th or 6th everything has changedbecause of added or removed details.

51. Are you asecretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books?I don’t shut up about my writing, not with my friends.

52. Who do you writefor? Myself., or anyone who pays me.

54. Favorite firstline/opening you’ve written? Absolutely nothing could go wrong, she thought just exactly as everythingwent wrong.

50. Do you share yourrough drafts or do you wait until everything is all polished?I share them, if I waited until they were polished no one would ever get toread them

55. How do you manageyour time/make time for writing? (do you set aside time to write every day ordo you only write when you have a lot of free time?) I have no job and no life. 0/10 do not recommend my method of having writingtime

#writing #shut up amaranth #my writing #ask meme #anonymous

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