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adhd-disaster-willie · 3 years

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you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6

chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

warnings: swearing

word count: 2,757

notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))

---

It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time.

“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn.

Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.

“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”

Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”

“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”

“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.

Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”

“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”

“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”

“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles.

“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”

“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile.

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie.

“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”

“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”

Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions.

“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”

“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails.

“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights.

“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.

“Well?”

Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”

Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”

Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”

“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”

Alex doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke.

Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him.

“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”

“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”

“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”

“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs.

“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”

“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”

“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk.

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

---

Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.

It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad.

Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that.

Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining.

Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her.

Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.

“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle.

Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”

“So why the… candles?”

“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”

“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”

“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”

“That’s…”

“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing.

“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?”

“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”

“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing.

Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows.

“Lets go for a drive.”

Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.

“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.

The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving.

Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.

Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie.

Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.

Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yea.”

Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”

“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”

“Hot dog.”

And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?”

Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off.

“I can what?”

“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”

So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”

Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second.

The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge.

Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!

“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex?

Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.

---

notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow.

chapter 6

taglist: @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #willex #willex fic #ytotbts #you're the one that brings the sun #willow writes #willie jatp #willie nolastname #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie molina #reggie peters #luke patterson #flynn jatp #flynn nolastname

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 3

Hey hi hello! This part has been my favorite to write thus far, obviously because I am obsessed with Sakura 💙 lol.

I hope you like it!

Characters in this part: Switch!Sakura, Switch!Mondo, Ler!Hiro, technically Ler!Taka?, Leon, Hina

Word Count: 3,299

PT 1: [Click here.], PT 2: [Click here.], PT 3: [You are here.]

Later on In the day, the vibe was back to normal. The beach sounds were actually pretty calming...

Well, that’s what they would have liked to say. The sounds would have been calming, had It not been for the loud laughter and swearing drowning It out.

You see, Mondo thought he would try to lie in wait for Sakura, but the minute he touched her, she grabbed his hands and judo flipped him onto the floor, pinning him down and proceeding to wreck him with tickles.

“You don’t learn, do you?” she hummed, her fingers tickling every patch of unprotected skin she could reach. “Did you honestly think I was going to let you jump me?”

“Fuhuhuhuhuhuck! Ahahahahahahaha!” Mondo laughed. “Hohohohohow did you eheheheheven seehehe me!?”

“I am not an idiot. I knew you would be waiting for me, You don’t give up that easily.” She replied. “But to answer your question, I didn’t. Hina gave you away.”

Hina giggled deviously as Mondo glared as best he could at her. “Youhuhuhu’re so dehehehehad AsahinahahaAAAHAHAHA-- SHIHIHIHIT!”

He shrieked as Sakura managed to slip her fingers under his arms, which were pinned to his sides. “Don’t threaten Hina.” She chastised.

“SAHAHAHAHAKURAHAHAHA I AHAHAHAM SOHOHO GONNA WREHEHEHEHECK YOU FOHOHOHOR THIS! MAHAHAHARK MY WORDS!” He declared through his fit of hysterical laughter, squirming to no avail.

“Yeah sure you will.” She rolled her eyes fondly at her hot headed friend. “You’d need two of you to hold me down, And unfortunately for you that doesn’t appear to be likely… Unless you have some kind of cloning power I was unaware of--”

Mondo was going to make a smartass retort, but was unable to when Hina joined in, tickling his stomach and ribs. “FAHAHAHAHACK! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” He cackled.

“Are you able to clone yourself? No? Well… That’s unfortunate for you.” She teased, speeding up.

“Guess you’ll just have to lay here and laugh instead!” Hina giggled.

Oh, they were so going to the top of Mondo’s list- Move over Leon you’re no longer public enemy number one as far as Mondo Is concerned.

“Did you seriously try to tickle Sakura again? How dense are you, Mondo?” Leon chided, unable to help himself from grinning at the sight before him.

Okay, Maybe Leon stays at the top of the list too…

“DOHOHOHON’T JUHUHUHUST STAND THEHEHERE!! HEHEHELP ME!” He shrieked.

“Are you nuts? Do I look like I have a death wish??” Leon laughed.

“IHIHIHIF YOU DON’T HEHEHELP ME YOU DOHOHOHO!”

Leon sighed. “Fine. Hey Hina, Wanna go get some donuts with me?”

Hina stopped tickling, perking up at the mention of donuts. “Donuts??” She looked up at Sakura with pleading eyes. Sakura chuckled.

“Yes, You can go.”

“Thank you!” She squealed, jumping up and running towards the kitchen, grabbing Leon’s arm and dragging him behind her.

Mondo managed to pull an arm free, he quickly latched on to the first part of her he could reach and wasn’t guarding or anticipating- her leg. He delivered a few squeezes to her leg just above her knee, this action made her flinch and a smile briefly cross her face.

She grabbed his hand and pried his off of her, pinning it down to the floor with a small indignant huff. “Was that your best attempt? I suppose I was expecting something better from you.”

Mondo narrowed his eyes as he caught his breath. “Yeah? How’s this?” He pulled his other arm free and shot his hand up under her shirt, attacking her side.

She yelped, her body jolting away from his touch, a few giggles slipping past her lips. “Mohondo-- I will rihip your hand off!”

“I thought you weren’t ticklish?” Mondo grinned, his fingers following her wherever she squirmed to. “You look pretty fuckin’ ticklish to me.”

Sakura giggled a bit more, deciding her best course of action now would be to get away from him before she broke out into full on giggles. Because as soon as she did that, She was toast.

Whenever Sakura has been tickled In the past, she would become completely helpless and immobilized by her laughter, like her body would lock up and just stop responding like some slow web browser.

Only two people knew about this weakness of hers, Kenshiro and Hina. The only two people brave enough to tickle her. She would prefer not to add Mondo to that list.

She flew off of Mondo, taking a moment to recompose herself. Though she could only take but a moment because Mondo swiftly followed, having since recovered from his laughing fit.

Sakura knew she couldn’t reach her room, she’d have to run right past Mondo who would undoubtedly be waiting and catch her in his arms. So she ran into the dining hall where Hina and Leon were eating donuts.

“Oh hey Sakura, How’s It going?” Leon asked casually.

Sakura ran around to the other side of the table as she heard Mondo burst into the room. She eyed him carefully, the table serving as a barrier between the two. “Where do you think you can run to that I won’t catchcha?” Mondo asked teasingly, approaching the table.

“Mondo… I will reverse anything you try.” Sakura tried to reason with the Biker as she backed up a bit so that she was out of his reach. “So It’s pointless to continue.”

He thought about It, she was probably right… She’s faster and as much as Mondo hated to admit it- stronger. Maybe he should--

“Nuh uh!” Hina interjected, her mouth full. “Sakura’s lying, She freezes up when you tickle--”

“HINA!”

Leon snorted with amusement.

Mondo raised an eyebrow. “Reeeaally? Well, I guess It is pointless to continue… Pointless for you.” He smirked. “Just accept your fate and maybe I won’t be as merciless… though, I wouldn’t count on it after that little stunt you and Hina pulled.”

Sakura sighed internally. Thanks a lot Hina… Now her worst fear is coming true, Mondo now knows about her weakness. Guess she has to use her speed now. Her eyes darted around for a way out, but before she could find a route, Mondo lunged across the table at her.

Though thinking fast as always, she dove under the table at the same time and bolted out the door, with Mondo swearing and chasing after her.

She was going to run back to her room, but saw her friends In the hall and didn’t want Mondo to accidentally run them over so she made for the stairs and dove into the rec room to hide.

She leaned back against the wall next to the door, gasping softly, catching her breath. The room was empty, though she wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse.

She stilled her breath as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, they lingered outside the rec room for a moment before becoming silent. She wasn’t sure If he was looking in the room or just standing there.

After another moment of silence, she heard footsteps go running down the hall and she let out a breath of relief. She stayed there a bit longer before peaking out the window, There wasn’t anyone there.

She opened the door and went to run down the stairs but a strong arm hooked around her waist and pulled her back into the rec room with a startled yelp. “Where do ya think you’re going?” Mondo grinned as he kicked the door shut.

Sakura pulled out of his hold and backed up nervously. “M-Mondo… Think about this, I told you earlier that It would take two of you to hold me down.”

“Oh, I know what ya said.” He chuckled evilly, advancing towards the retreating Martial Artist. “But I also know what Hina said, Too. Ya lock up when ya get tickled.”

“If that were true, then how did I get away from you earlier?” She challenged.

“If It’s not true, why are you nervous?” He retorted, closing in on the white haired girl.

Sakura didn’t have a response to that, well, except for a small gasp when she bumped into the couch and almost lost her balance.

Mondo took this opening and coiled his arms around her, pulling her down to the couch next to him. She resisted as he suspected she would so he had to throw all of his weight into it.

Immediately his trained fingers were scribbling all over her sides. “Gotcha~” he grinned.

She let out a strangled whimper before bursting into breathy giggles, she tried to get away but the remaining strength she had wasn’t enough to get free once he sat on her legs. “Mohohondo! Stohohop It!” She complained, wrapping her arms around her midsection in a feeble attempt to block off other spots.

“I thought ya weren’t ticklish? What happened to that?” Mondo teased, running his fingers across her toned stomach experimentally. He wished he had enough time to ask Hina where she was most ticklish at, but figured it would be more fun to find out for himself.

She giggled a bit harder. “Okahahay, I’m tihihicklish! Are you hahahappy?”

“Yes.” Mondo smirked. “‘Cause that means I can get some revenge on ya!”

“Ihihi swear you’ll rehehehegret thi-- AAH! NOHOHOHO!”

Mondo immediately honed in on that spot upon drawing that reaction from the fighter. “What’s wrong? A lil ticklish on your hips?” he asked teasingly, squeezing at her hips relentlessly.

Sakura tried to contain her laughter but it was no use. “DOHOHOHOHON’T!” She grabbed uselessly at his hands, unable to pry them away.

“Don’t? Don’t what?”

“I AHAHAHAM GOING TO KIHIHIHICK YOUR ASS!” She threatened, blushing bright red. Well, Looks like she wasn’t gonna fall for the obvious trick like Taka would...

Mondo laughed, shaking one of her hands off. He reached up and fluttered his fingers against her neck. “Oh yeah? Tell me all about how you’re gonna do that. All I gotta do Is tickle you and you’ll crumble to the floor In a cute giggly blushy heap.” He teased.

She brought her shoulder up to try to block him. “SHUHUHUT UP!” She blushed more.

Ah, So that’s what her trigger is. The cutesy teasing approach. Mondo grinned evilly at the realization. “What? You don’t like being told you’re adorable?” He cooed.

He moved his hand away from her neck to tickle her newly exposed ribs thanks to her trying to block him from her neck.

“STAHAHAHAP!” She laughed harder, trying to turn on the side he was currently attacking to protect her apparently very sensitive ribs.

Mondo released her hip much to her relief but to her dismay his fingers were now mercilessly wiggling against the ribs on her other side. “Man, We should tickle you more often… You’re just so cute when you laugh! Maybe I’ll tell Hiro and the others about--”

“DOHOHOHON’T YOU DAHAHAHARE!” She laughed, her body trembling, not used to being tickled.

“Why not? I think you could use it. You’re so stoic all the time.” Mondo chuckled, tickling the spots between her ribs.

While that may be true, Sakura still would prefer no one else be brave enough to tickle her because she finds it completely embarrassing. When she was training with Kenshiro sometimes he’d cheat and make her submit by completely destroying her with tickles. It was totally unfair, He knew all of her worst spots thanks to them being friends for so long.

She would also prefer no one hear her squeal like she just did. She tried to wrack her brain to come up with a way to turn this around and get out of Mondo’s tickly grasp, but It was really hard to concentrate with him viciously tickling her.

“What? Don’t got a smartass response to that?” He smirked, speeding up the tickles to her ribs. “Ya givin’ up already, Sakura?”

C’mon… Think! Think think thi… oh god It tickles so bad!

“NOHOHOHO! I NEHEHEHEVER GIHIHIVE UP!” She retorted stubbornly, trying to will herself to throw him off. But alas just as previously mentioned, her body wouldn’t respond to her brain.

“Aight, Whatever works for you.” He shrugged, giving a lopsided grin. “I’m pretty content tickling you and listening to your cutesy laughter.” he teased, marveling at the way her face turned pink at the teasing.

Oh! That’s It! Maybe she can’t outpower him right now, but she can outwit him!

“YOUHUHU KNOW, FOR SOHOHOMEONE WHO GETS SOHO NEVEROUS THEHEHEY YELL WHEN FLIHIHIRTING, YOU’RE AHAHAHAWFULLY CAHAHALM RIGHT NOW.” She struggled to taunt him through her loud laughter.

Sakura managed to open an eye to observe his reaction, just as she hoped he would, he got flustered and turned pink himself. “U-Uh yeah, that’s ‘cus I’m not flirting with you.” He tried to dispute awkwardly.

“REHEHEALLY?? SOHOHO DOHOHO YOU CAHAHAHALL EVERYONE CUHUHUTE OR JUHUHUST ME AND CHIHIHIRO?”

“H-Hey! Don’t get it twisted!” Mondo stammered awkwardly, stopping his torment of her. “I’m not-- ACK!”

That was just the opening she needed, She grabbed him by the arms and flipped their positions, pinning his arms above his head as she caught her breath. “H-Heh….heheh…” She giggled still, her body still slightly trembling.

“Wh-Wha-- You fuckin’ tricked me!” Mondo growled.

“Of course… Just as you were… I used your weakness… against you…” She smirked tiredly. “I… Know you didn’t… mean It like that… But I also know… How awkward you are about that sort of thing…”

“That’s so not fair!” He complained, struggling in her iron grip.

“I don’t believe there were any ground rules laid out, were there?” She retorted. “You brought It on yourself when you started teasing me.”

Think quick, you’re in danger now Owada… Do to her what she did to you… Ooh, He can work with that.

“I brought it on myself when I started teasing you?” He repeated for confirmation, continuing after she nodded. “Soo… that mean you actually like being tickled, just not teased?” He grinned slyly.

She felt her face heat up. “Wh-What?!”

“Do you actually like being tickled?” He repeated.

“I heard what you said!” She snapped, flustered. “N-No! Of course I don’t! How girly do you think I am?!”

Ohh, Maybe he accidentally hit the nail on the head? Therapist Owada Is detecting some deep rooted issues she has about being perceived as weak or girly.

“Well, It’s just your wording Is kinda confusing… wouldn’t I have brought It on myself the moment I put my hands on you?” He grinned cheekily at her.

“Of course you did! I just meant that the teasing was the final straw!”

“So the tickling itself wasn’t bad enough?”

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the biker. “Do you think I don’t see what you’re doing? I know you’re purposely misconstruing my words to distract me so you can reverse our positions again.”

Before Mondo could argue, She used her free hand (bc of course she had a free hand) to mercilessly attack his belly and underarm. “I warned you that you would regret it.”

“BAHAHAHA! SAHAHAHAHAKURAHAHAHA STAHAHAP!” He barked through fits of laughter.

The door to the rec room swung open. “Bro?? I heard you scream! Are you--” Kiyotaka paused, taking in the unusual sight before him.

“Hello Taka.” Sakura greeted nonchalantly.

“FAHAHAHACK! TAHAHAHAHAKA HEHEHELP!” He cackled, trying to throw the Martial artist off.

Taka chuckled a bit after he got used to the scene in front of him. “Bro, What did you do to end up like this?” He asked amusedly, approaching the two.

“He thought I would let him get away with tickling me.” She answered.

Taka raised his eyebrows in surprise, Mondo actually managed to catch her? And he missed It? Damn. “Kyoudai, why would you do something so reckless?!”

Sakura chuckled.

“WHOHOHOSE SIHIHIDE ARE YOU OHOHOHON!?” Mondo shot back.

“R-Right, Sorry.” Taka smiled sheepishly. “U-Um, How am I supposed to help you?”

“You don’t.” Sakura replied, her tone warning as she glanced at the Moral Compass.

“JUHUHUHUHUST TIHIHICKLE HER! SHEHEHEHEHE FREEHEHEHEHEZES UP!”

“Taka,” She paused her torment of Mondo to look at Taka. “I feel I must offer you a fair warning, If you tickle me, I will hunt you down afterwards and make Mondo’s tickles look like child’s play.”

Taka squeaked nervously, his arms wrapping around his midsection subconsciously. “Y-Yes ma’am. U-Understood.”

“Fuck It, I’ll do It!” Hiro said, suddenly at the other end of the couch.

“Wh-Wha-- Hiro?? When did you get he--”

Hiro squeezed her sides, causing her to yelp and burst out laughing. She tried to get away by sliding to the floor, but Hiro followed, laughing along with her. “Man Sakura, I never would’ve guessed you’d be this ticklish!” He grinned.

“Stahahahap hehehehelping hihihim he stahahaharted it!” She complained childishly.

“I’m about to end It, too.” Mondo smiled evilly as he got down on the floor with them.

“Hey, Quit squirming will ya? It’s making It harder for me to--”

Hiro immediately stilled his fingers in surprise when Sakura shrieked. Mondo’s eyes shot to Hiro’s hands, they were resting on the back of her ribs. “Well well…”

“Hey are you okay, Sakura?” Hiro asked, concerned he had hurt her.

Before Sakura could recollect herself to get away, Mondo attacked. Wiggling his fingers incessantly against the back of her ribs.

She shrieked again, this time hysterical laughter following. “AAH! NAHAHAHAHA! MOHOHOHONDOHOHO DOHOHOHON’T!”

Hiro blinked In surprise. “Ohhh! I see, Your back Is ticklish!” He laughed as he realized, his fingers tracing delicately across her back. This made her squeal uncharacteristically as her body shook with laughter.

“Looks like Hiro found your ticklish spot.” He chuckled, tickling the spots between the back of her ribs without mercy.

“NAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE YOUHUHUHUHUHU JEHEHEHEHEHERKS!”

“Hey, Don’t be mean!” Hiro frowned, squeezing her waist. This drew another squeal followed by louder laughter from the fighter.

“Yeah, It’s not our fault you’re so fuckin’ ticklish~” Mondo teased, He glanced up at Taka who was watching with a bit of amusement. “Wanna help us?”

“W-What? But she said--”

“You think she’s In a position to be threatening my Kyoudai?” Mondo smirked, speeding up his tickles to emphasize his point.

Taka hesitated, It felt kind of mean to gang up on Sakura like this, but on the other hand… When does an opportunity like this present itself? And her laughter does sound lovely…

Sakura was hoping that Taka wouldn’t give in, but was sorely disappointed when she felt another set of hands on her, Nails gliding gently across her back. This paired with the harsher tickles to her ribs and the squeezes to her waist and hips made her laugh turn wheezy and borderline silent as she shook violently with laughter.

It wasn’t long though before they heard the familiar chime come across the monitor. Mondo and Hiro both groaned as they all ceased their tickling, much to Sakura’s appreciation.

“Ahem! This Is a school announcement!” Monokuma’s voice spoke. “All Students please report to the Gym for a special surprise!”

“What do you think It Is this time?” Mondo sighed to his classmates.

“I have no idea, but whatever It Is It can’t be good.” Hiro frowned, crossing his arms, Taka nodded In agreement.

“Sakura? Ya good?” Mondo chuckled at the still giggling heap on the floor.

“G-Give me ahaha… minute… hehehe…”

“You have a cute giggle.” Hiro complimented, much to her dismay.

“D-Don’t sahahahay that… wohohohord to mehehe…”

“What word?”

“Cute.” Mondo snickered at the weak glare she gave him. “C’mon giggles, Let’s get to the gym.” He said as he stood up, offering his hand to help her up.

She took it and he pulled her to her feet, once up she pulled him in closer to whisper to him. “This Isn’t over, Owada.” She declared threatening, letting go of him.

Mondo cleared his throat nervously, He knew that wasn’t just a threat… It was a promise.

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs “Maximum Discomfort.”

Another addition to the little prison series I am doing. I don’t think this one has plaything too inflammatory in it, but it is still up to you weather you want to risk it.

Krill was trapped in a prison of fear, worst of all, he was trapped in a prison prison, a human prison, the most brutal species in the galaxy putting their own most brutal into close confines with no way out and no connection to the outside world. What was worse, this wasn’t even a licensed prison overseen by the UNSC or the GA, this was an outlier, a maximum security penitentiary on a border moon designed specifically to deal with the people that no one else wanted to. It was lawless, it was mad, and it was a great way to get yourself Killed.

After seeing his life flash before his eyes earlier, when confronted by one of the other prisoners, he now clutched desperately to the back of Commander Vir’s jumpsuit forever thankful to the human for his act of courage, in offering to fight the entire prison population to protect him, but Krill new the truth. Commander Vir was no alpha here, he wasn't the right kind of human, these ones were hardened, cold and calculating. The commander had the tendency to be juvenile naive and trusting at times.

He was going to have to bluff hard to survive, or neither of them were going to last a day.

Together they were dragged across the room and seated rather aggressively at the center of the human table . Adam grimaced visibly as he sat held fast by the large man from earlier who looked around the group of humans and made eye contact with each and every one of them, “Well everyone please welcome our newest guest, “Captain Jack.”

Adam looked up his confusion overriding his worry, “What?”

“You have an eyepatch and a peg leg, that makes you a pirate.”

“I mean, yeah, but if I Recall Captain Jack had both eyes AND both legs.”

The man’s smile fell brows falling, “Are you questioning my nickname choice.”

Adam shrunk back a bit, “I ur…. No sir….”

The man glowered at him and then began to laugh. The rest of the group followed suit, Krill shrank closer to Adam’s legs. It may have been laughter, but it definitely wasn’t the inviting kind, he chucked wiping tears from his eyes, “Sir ... ain't that quaint…. This little bastard thinks I’m a sir.”

More laughter.

Suddenly Adam felt himself jerked to his feet held at least an inch off the ground by the front of his jumpsuit staring the large man in the eyes, nose to nose, “Don’t call me, sir.”

“S-sorry s-si…. I mean yes…. Of course….. It's just a bad habit.” His composure from earlier was beginning to crack a little. Krill hid under the bench.

“What you army or something.”

“Yes…. yes. I have the tattoo to prove it.” That seemed to ease their curiosity and he was set down and ordered to show them. He did as he was told, pulling off the top layer of his jumpsuit to hang around his waist, and pull down the neck of his T-shirt to show the tattoo. There was a murmur from the group, “Aviation, so you can fly planes and shit?”

Adam let go, “Yes…. more like jets and shit….”

“You ever been in combat?” One of the men asked interested

Adam rubbed the back of his head glanced towards the Drev side of the room, made a decision and nodded, “Yes I…. I was deployed during the Drev war. The atmosphere on their planet doesn’t…. Exactly allow for much flying, so I was ground infantry during our last push.”

There was another murmur around the table.

“So you gotta kill you some of those battle bastards.” Andam jerked forward uncomfortably as he was slapped on the back, “Thank you for your service!”

“Wait….. Is that where you lost your leg and your eye.”

Adam swallowed, “Just the leg, the eye was an accident.”

There was a murmur of appreciation from around the table, “Hey, that mean you were involved in operation Steel Eye.” One of the men asked, and the rest of the group muttered in anticipation leaning forward. Adam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I uh…. Well yes.”

There was an eruption of glee around the table and Adam was slammed by a wall of delighted hollering, laughing, and back patting by the group of men cheering him on for having crushed the Beatles, shown them their place, and so on.

“Alright, alright that changes things a bit. I hate using people’s names as you know, so I’m not going to let you keep yours, but I’m gonna come up with something better for you like Steel, short for Steel-Eye, I like that, it’s a good name, honorable. Wait till those big ugly beetles know who we got on our side.”

Adam went slightly pale glancing across the room. The largest Drev there was an almost 10 foot female with Vivid green carapace. She looked like she could have charged through a four foot steel wall, “or we…. Could not mention that.”

One of the guys next to hi laughed, “You’re a funny guy, Steel, you don’t have to worry about nothin’ we won’t let them touch you, not when you are such an esteemed addition to the human species.” Adam grimaced again as the table cheered. Krill hugged his leg, they were totally going to die.

“Tell us, aside from being a beetle killing badass, what else can you do, what are your talents. You see despite your service, no one just eases by here. What can you bring to the table.” There was a whole lot of learning going on in this group, and Krill could tell that the Commander wasn’t particularly happy about the situation….

“I uh…. Like what? I mean I can fly, but that’s not…. Useful here.”

“Nah, friend, we talkin bout stuff like drawing, steeling, fighting….” that seemed like a pretty varied list to Krill, and he couldn’t imagine how the first one went with anything.

“Ur ... uh, I can draw a little…. Not like shading or anything like that… but I can do outlines I guess ... ur -”

“And you can fight.” Someone prompted

Adam grimaced but was forced into a nod under the scrutiny of the other prisoners. He was grabbed around the shoulder and pulled in close, “Well there it is, our new tattoo artist.” The big man looked down at Adam, “he left us under….. Well a sheet, so you get his job now. Glad to have you on board.”

Adam was coming to learn that his original understanding of how prison worked was…. Completely wrong. Documentaries were generally the way to go, but even then those were not entirely accurate either. If anything movies romanticize prison, crazy how stupid that sentence was out of context, but really the only thing he might consider comedic or cinematic about the whole thing was The Boss’s use of nicknames…. And yes, that was his nickname. No one knew what he was really called, all they knew was that he was The Boss and should be treated as such. The other men Adam and Krill had met on the first day were his Lieutenants. The big dark man was Smiley, the handsome man was Fabio, and then the two little men were the Gemini boys

That first night Adam had been forced to eat the nastiest prison 'glop probably ever prepared in the history of humanity. Adam had almost thrown up on multiple occasions arguing that it wasn’t necessarily the taste, but the texture that was throwing him off. He had eventually given over the rest of his trey to Smiley who seemed to enjoy the glop. When the bell rang, the group of them were ushered into their containment units. Krill was forced to Separate from Adam, but luckily ended up in a sell with a terrified Tesraki who spent most of his time hidden under the bed.

Adam, on the other hand, walked into the cell to find the top bunk absolutely overwhelmed by a massive balding man with a greasy face and broken nose. He paused in the doorway grimacing as the man looked at him, but with a buzz, the doors slid shut behind him. They made eye contact for a very long moment and the other man drifted a lazy expression over him.

Adam felt his insides turn to mush, but he tried not to show any fear. Showing fear in a prison was like showing fear to a dog. Fear meant weakness, and weakness was a reason to attack. Instead he nodded stiffly, “Evening, guess this makes me your new roommate. What’s your name.”

The man eyed him, but didn’t answer.

“Adam eyed the bottom bunk, and the sagging bunk above it. He had no intention of lying down in that bed scene it seemed at any moment he was going to get crushed as the top bunk fell. He glanced around the room and was sickened. It was maybe ten feet long and seven feet wide with an open toilet in one corner and a sink next to that. Otherwise there were no other furnishings.

Truth be told he really had to pee, but he was coming to find out quickly that he had a serious issue doing that when other people were present. Plus the boogeyman was still staring at him. With a sick sigh and a churning stomach, Adam sunk to the floor and leaned his head against the bars looking out into the hall which had gone dark. A few flashlights swiped here and there from the prison guards on patrol, but otherwise there was no movement. Listening to the sounds, he caught the soft mutter of voices, and a few other unsavory sounds, but he tried not to think about them too much. Glancing towards the top bunk he found a pair of eyes still glittering in the darkness.

He took a deep breath through the nose to calm himself.

It didn’t help. In fact it took all he had not to break down into tears and start whimpering for his mom to come save him. Damn he was such a bitch. Instead he leaned his head against the bars and took a few more deep breaths. He wished Sunny were here, if she was here they would already be out, shed have bent the bars with her bare hands and kicked everyone’s ass that tried to get in her way. Sure he wanted nothing more in the world to be a total badass, but where he pretended, she really was.

That night was probably the worst night of his life, and that included his multiple nights of PTSD induced fear right after the war. He was cold, scared, uncomfortable, and trying very very hard to block out the noises coming from the other side of the room. He didn’t know what they were, and he didn’t want to find out they could have been innocuous, but they could have totally not been, plus he needed to pee like a racehorse, but the toilets were metal, so that totally wasn’t an option. He rested his head against his knees and, SOMEHOW, by the grace of deity was able to fall asleep.

He woke up the next morning to kidney pain, and the rattling sound of the doors as they beeped open. He hit the cold stone floor of the hallway with a grunt and a curse as the other prisoners began peering out into the light rubbing their eyes and grumbling.

A shadow darkened the space above him, and Commander Vir looked up to find the Boss standing over him with a bit of a grin, “Rough night?”

He cursed and scrambled to his feet adjusting himself as the boogeyman pushed past him out the door. Adam followed the man with nervous eyes, but hand clapped him on the back, “Oh don’t worry about grunt, he's a gentle giant really, kind of quiet, but wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Adam snorted and before he could censor himself, “I wasn’t worried about him, I was worried about the bunk snapping and crushing me in my sleep.”

Luckily the boss burst into fits of raucous laughter, “Didn’t know you had such an acerbic tongue. I expect you down in the yard in ten, don’t be late.” The man let him go, and adam quickly rushed back into the room for the most relieving moment of his adult life before walking back out and picking up Krill a few cells over. The Vrul seemed to have had a better night floating in a corner while his roommate hid under the bed. Together they made a quick, and hopefully unnoticed exit down the stairs and onto the floor. In an almost panic, Adam found his way into the courtyard at the center of the jail where the humans had claimed a rather dodgy set of workout equipment

“There you are Steel, was just beginning to worry you had gotten lost .” The men about the yard chuckled, and Adam was forced to sit on the edge of a bench handed a strange contraption and a little well of inc, “Let’s see what you can do, Kid.”

Adam blinked and stared at the strange contraption, “The hell is this.”

“A tattoo machine, what the hell else would it be.”

Adam looked up, “Looks like something pulled out of a dumpster. Or the tetanus machine.”

The prisoners folded their arms displeased.

Adam crossed his arms, “I get you guys don’t exactly have anything to work with, but I am not going to work with that till it’s proven sterile. I am not getting blamed for someone’s death or infection, and AND I at least need a marker or something, so I can do an outline before I start. I don’t produce shit. Also someone is going to have to convince Grunt to sleep on the bottom bunk because I am NOT doing that shit again.”

Lucky for him the prisoners seemed at least amused by his demands, and were ordered off to find equipment. Adam tasked Krill with a way to sterilize the equipment, which Krill determined was highly unlikely but was forced to work with what they had. However, once the prisoners learned that Krill had medical training, He was suddenly accepted as a human, and then forced to look at everything from blistered feet to weeping sores. This place was disgusting, and he nervously glanced at Adam, who was now sitting on the bench top half of his jumpsuit tied around his waist, T shirt exposed trying to figure out how the hell to use the improvised machine, which required a rather steep learning curve.

Both of them were wildly out of their depth krill having gone from being the chief medical officer of a high tech floating space hospital in which he had requisitioned all the latest medical equipment one could hope for to doing back alley physicals on human convicts in a maximum security prison yard, while Adam had descended from Fleet Commander of the UNSC, golden boy of the GA, and most influential human in the galaxy to doing half rate prison tattoos with no more than a paperclip and improvised inc on another man’s exposed thigh.

From what Adam seemed to think, they should at least ask for favors in exchange for their services. Perhaps that way they could make themselves invaluable enough that no one would be able to question their use, or their importance

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mydarlingvioletine · 5 years

Text

‘Just a Puppy Crush’ - Chapter Fifteen Ship(s): Violet/Clementine, Louis/Aasim, and Ruby/Brody Media: The Walking Dead Game (Season 4)

author’s note: sorry for the late upload, happy pride :)

The thing Violet really likes about Clementine’s house is that there’s never a dull moment. In some room, there’s a TV left on. Or the sound of a sink dripping, bugs noisily buzzing against the porch light, or the sound of a car outside.

Violet lived just outside of the suburb that the majority of her friends resided in, but it was such a change of environment when she was inside it.

For the first time since she’d stepped foot in the house, it was almost silent, faint voices out on the porch. Clementine opened the screen door in the back, and revealed the rest of her family sitting out on the porch and playing Uno.

“Thanks for teaching AJ what a +4 is, Clem.” James lowly murmured, holding at least a dozen cards in his hand as AJ beamed.

“So grumpy!” Clem booed, slinging herself over James’ shoulder and taking a peek at his cards. “That’s a lotta greens you got there.”

James huffed and held his cards to his chest while AJ happily changed the color to blue. “I can’t believe you.”

Clementine grinned before shoving a jumbo marshmallow into her mouth. “Believe it.”

Violet awkwardly shifted her weight onto her left foot, eyes darting down to the deck as the family continued chattering. Carley patted the empty lawn chair beside her with a warm grin, and Violet placed herself down.

Lee’s eyes lit up as a new song began playing from the radio, and he jumped to his feet, pulling Carley along with him. “You remember this song? From our wedding?”

Carley groaned and swayed with him slightly, putting her arms over her shoulders. “How could I forget? Chuck almost broke his hip to this.” The couple laughed warmly, softly swaying around the deck, their Uno decks lying abandoned in their seats.

“They say we’re too young and we don’t know We won’t find out until we grow”

It was overwhelmingly sweet. It was easy to forget sometimes that all married straight couples didn’t actually hate each other.

“Well, I don’t know if all that’s true ‘Cause you got me, and baby, I got you”

Clementine held out her hand expectantly, and waved her other one in front of Violet’s eyes to snap her out of her daze. “Hey, wanna dance?”

“I got you, babe”

Violet’s eyes widened and her face immediately went tomato-red at the suggestion, and she hugged her sides defensively. “I dunno...”

“I got you, babe”

“What, you only dance to Estelle?” Clem teased with a goofy smile on her face. With an exaggerated grunt, Violet grabbed onto her open hand and Clementine pulled her to her feet.

“They say our love won’t pay the rent Before it’s earned, our money’s all been spent”

Violet stiffly swayed from side to side, gently letting her hands rest on Clem’s shoulders. She caught a glimpse of Lee and Carley over Clem’s shoulder, who’s eyes had fallen on the two girls with amusement.

“I guess that’s so, we don’t have a lot but at least I’m sure of all the things we got”

Flustered, Violet ducked her head into Clem’s collarbone, hoping that the shorter girl’s sweatshirt would cover up her pink complexion.

“I got you, babe”

The small interaction must’ve sparked some confidence in Clementine, because she let her hands gradually fall to Violet’s waist.

“I got you, babe”

Violet’s breath hitched and her posture stiffened, and she silently hoped that Clementine couldn’t feel how fast her heart rate pounded.

“Hey, Clem!”

The sharp pitch of AJ’s excited tone caused Violet to practically shove herself backwards, and stumbled back into her chair.

Unnerved, Clem looked back and forth between AJ and Violet like she was trying to piece together what had happened in the last millisecond.

That happened, right? She was just breathing in everything about the older girl, swaying softly and happily to the music and her own heartbeat.

She shook her head and knelt down next to AJ, peering at his cards. The two exchanged a look, and Clem patted his shoulder before rising back to her feet. “You don’t need me, goofball. You know what to do.”

James, not appreciating the theatrics, shot Carley and Violet an annoyed look. “Can you kick my ass now so I can go to sleep?”

“It’s nine thirty,” Lee noted as he looked down at his watch and frowned. “C’mon, college kid. Past your bedtime?”

James flashed an exasperated look to Violet before tugging his knees to his chest to hide his cards from a peeping Clem. “Oh, shut up.”

“Boom-boom!” AJ exclaimed as he slammed down a green +2. James grinned, and put down a +2 of his own.

AJ clutched his chest and dramatically feigned like he was shot, before slamming down his last card, another +2 with so much force it shook the table. “Aha! Get fu-“

Clementine quickly cupped her hand over AJ’s mouth, Violet’s cackling and Lee’s intense scolding drowning out the buzzing of flies against the porch light.

“Hey, did you guys see my new pin?” Clem interrupted the laughter and detached the starry pin from her jacket pocket. “Violet made it for me. It’s pretty cool, right?”

“The coolest.” Lee warmly remarked as Clem gave the pin to him for him to observe. “This is really well-done, Vi. If I knew we were gonna have Picasso on our perch, I would’ve brought out s’mores or something.”

“Um, thank you.” Violet murmured, flustered and taken aback at the genuine praise and the subtle use of her nickname.

AJ snatched the pin from Lee’s outstretched hand, and twirled it in his fingers, admiring all the detail that Violet had put a lot more time than she was willing to admit to perfect. “You’re an artist! Just like me and Clem.”

“Clem and I.” Clementine corrected, taking the pin from AJ’s sticky kid fingers. She flashed a lopsided grin to Violet before she promptly pinned it back on her jacket. “And I dunno if I really fit that description.”

AJ frowned and latched himself onto Clem’s leg, holding tightly as he piped up. “You’re really good, Clem. I love your drawings.”

Clementine ruffled her hand through AJ’s bouncy hair, smiling down at the kid who refused to let go of her leg. “Thanks, goofball.”

“It’s getting late.” Lee announced, looking down at his phone. James had himself sandwiched between Lee and Carley, his head lazily leaned on Lee’s shoulder, half-asleep. “C’mon, kiddo. It’s time for bed.”

“I’m not even tired!” AJ insisted, a yawn prevalent in his voice. The stubborn kid held onto Clementine’s prosthetic, shaking his head as Clem tried to wiggle him off.

Carley and Clementine’s combined efforts managed to detach AJ from her leg, who pouted unhappily and tried desperately to hold back a yawn.

“Clem, you know the curfew. Be in bed by eleven, okay?” Lee warned, carrying a passed out James over his shoulder. “Oh, and uh, don’t be too loud. It’s a school night.”

Clementine nodded jubilantly.

“Say goodnight, Alvin Junior.” Carley squeezed the protesting kid’s cheeks, then resorted to tickling him when he continued to silently brood.

“S-stop it!” AJ managed to burst out between giggles, before he escaped Carley’s grasp and leaned happily against the screen door, demeanor totally changed. “Night, Clem. G’night, Vi!”

Violet barely had time to raise her hand to wave him goodnight, and he’d already booked it around the corner and up the stairs. Clem giggled as Violet dropped her hand, and brushed against her shoulder.

“Hey, he likes you!” Clementine managed through a giggling fit, before throwing herself back down onto a deck chair. “AJ’s a tough critic, but you passed inspection. That’s uh... an accomplishment. Alvin Junior Stamp of Approval!”

Flustered, Violet let herself down in the chair parallel from Clem, smiling softly. “He’s a really cool kid.”

“The coolest.” Clementine happily agreed, slightly turning up the volume of the radio that Lee had turned off.

“That’s alright with me, it’s really no fuss”

Clem’s eyes lit up as she recognized the song, and she started jumping up and down on the deck, her prosthetic foot clanging awkwardly against the wood.

“As long as you’re next to me, just the two of us”

Violet giggled as Clementine rhythmically swayed around to the song, but her laugh was cut short when Clem stretched her hand out towards Violet.

“Wanna dance?”

Violet visibly tensed up, and her head craned to look through the screen door to see if any of Clem’s family was watching them. Noticing her hesitance, Clementine strided over to the door, and pulled the drapes across to block the view.

“Just us,” Violet tested as she cautiously rose to her feet, arms instinctively folded across her chest. “No one else around. No little kid that might kill me in my sleep if I put my hands on you.”

Clementine rolled her eyes and swung her arms over Violet’s shoulders, brushing back a blonde piece of hair that covered the taller girl’s eye in one swift motion.

“You’re my, my, my, my kind of woman”

Violet froze like a deer in headlights when her eyes met Clem’s, her brown eyes like pools of honey. It was just then that Violet decided she had a new favorite color.

“My, oh my, what a girl”

Clementine offered her a comforting smile, and hummed in approval when Violet apprehensively placed her hands on Clem’s shoulders, leaning along with her to the lyrics.

“I’ve never really danced with anyone before tonight..” Violet blurted, her eyes desperately avoiding the warm gaze that made her cheeks red. “Not like this, anyway.”

Clem cocked her head incredulously like she couldn’t believe it, and slyly let her hands fall down to Violet’s hips. “Seriously? Nobody’s swept you off your feet at all those middle school dances?”

Violet shook her head, lips tightly pressed together with thought. “I’ve always wanted to dance with someone I really cared about.”

Caught up in her own words, Violet blushed furiously and buried her face into the nook of Clementine’s neck, her face burning intensely.

“And I’m down on my hands and knees”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re a natural.” Clem giggled at Violet’s meekness, and raised one of her hands to run her fingers through the thin locks of blonde hair.

She earned a muffled “thank you” from the stiff blonde against her, and had to stop herself from bear-hugging Violet until her spine was straight.

“Begging you please, baby, show me your world”

The song died out, and Violet cautiously raised her head, eyes darting between the window and to Clem. With a shudder, she let herself relax in the brunette’s arms, swaying to a tune that wasn’t there.

“I’m glad it was you.”

Violet’s timid voice broke the silence, and she probably would’ve hidden her face back in Clem’s jacket if Clementine wasn’t smiling like an idiot.

Clementine was silent except for the soft humming that she created while she continued to sway with Violet. Unsure whether or not to be concerned with Clem’s reaction, Violet felt herself frantically pressing on.

Like tomorrow wasn’t a given. Like all she knew she had was this moment. Looks like Louis rubbed off on her.

“I really like you, Clem. I’ve... had a mondo crush on you for a long ass time. Uh, that’s why Louis is acting so weird around us and why I’m so weird around you and it’s totally okay if you don’t reciprocate. I shouldn’t have-“

“CanIkissyou?” Clementine quickly blurted out, her face wracked with nervous excitement. The “yeah” from Violet was cut short by the feeling of Clementine’s breath over her lips before she closed the distance between them.

Clementine’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the kiss, entangling her free hand in Violet’s hair. The thoughts flickering through the blonde’s mind were overwhelming, and only one coherent word shone through all the chaos: home.

It was over as soon as it started, Violet’s eyes still as wide as they were when Clem proposed it. Nervous at the lack of reciprocation, Clementine’s eyes nervously darted up to meet Violet’s.

She let the breath go that she’d been holding.

“Holy shit.”

Clementine anxiously grinned, folding her arms behind her back. “That’s romantic.”

“I mean!” Violet stammered, reaching to grab Clementine’s shaking hand in hers. “Holy shit!”

She tightly squeezed Clementine’s hand under her own, hoping to get across through contact what her brain couldn’t make up through words.

She took Clementine’s other hand in her own, and tried her best to maintain eye contact with the girl across from her. Those goddamn piercing, beautiful brown eyes.

Violet straightened her posture and took a deep breath before tilting Clementine’s chin up, and softly pressed her lips against Clem’s, chapped due to her bad habit of chewing on her lips.

Clementine melted into the kiss, reassurance filling her as she cupped Violet’s face tenderly in her hands. The rhythm returned, as Clem happily hummed into the kiss, her signature lopsided and unapologetic smile against the taller girl’s lips, only reminding Violet of everything she loved about the girl in her arms.

The two softly swayed with their foreheads pressed together, holding each other tightly like the other would fade away if they let go. The wooden boards softly creaked as they moved back and forth across the deck. The buzzing of flies against the porch light acting as a low hum, a melody in the background that they rocked to.

#the walking dead game #twdg #twdg clementine #twdg violet #violentine #violetine #twdg louis #twdg aj #done running #the walking dead game finale #twdg lee #twdg carley #twdg james #redd writes #twdg tfs #twdg s4 #the walking dead game the final season

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kenmaiii · 6 years

Text

stop being jealous and bitter!

Now i know you cant outright just throw away your jealousy in the art community. You see a really cool popular artist or just someone with absolutely amzing art and you think “wow holy shit their art is so good i wish that was me and that i could do that....” I understand that spite can be a good thing sometimes; it can be what motivates you to improve and do well, especially if the artist is well... not the best person in terms of personality. Great, that’s even more motivation to do well right!?

But when does all the comparing go too far?

----------------------------------------long post incoming------------------------------------------

Now i’ve had people very close to me do this. I’ve been told that im ‘popular’ which im honestly not seriously. They could probably be reading this right now, but this has been bothering me for awhile so i must get this out there. Let’s step into a certain mindset for a moment:-

You hate your artwork. You hate your current skills. Sure there are artists you like. But then there are ‘THOSE’ ones. You have very specific artists you follow just because theyre so good and popular they make you feel bitter and you still check up on them regularly to fuel that bitterness. You know good and well that they make you bitter and angry and peeved but you just keep going back.

Step back for a moment and think.... why on earth am i fucking doing this???? Comparing and feeling bitter about another persons skill or popularity and letting yourself stay sad and bitter isn’t good for ANYTHING, art aside. It’s good to want to feel validated at the work you spent time on but it WILL get tiring if you keep complaining that ‘your art is bad’, ‘your art isnt good’, ‘its shit’ or ‘garbage’. Your brain is just internalizing that and hindering your work and future improvement. It’s most importantly WASTING YOUR own time, YOU the creator. And not to sound snobby here, i really truly dont intend for that, but some of you know good and well that you keep belitting you work because you only just want people to compliment your art when youre only doing the bare minimum to improve! I can only tell you as a friend or an on-looker that i love your art so many times (as much i really do love it and hope for your improvement) if you continuously decide to still turn around and say you hate your work and tell me im wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why reach for compliments then! Why continuously turn them down?

And i’m not saying you cant ever not like your art (cause it happens) or decline a compliment, but to do it every single time....it leaves a bad image for your work. You either start to believe it, or the person complimenting you will get put off from your negativity!

It makes people feel bad, especially if theyre also artist AND also your friends. You can’t keep saying you prefer their work and still put down your own. It makes your artist friend uncomfortable. They might not know how to respond when you keep doing it. And im sure they wouldnt want you to keep making yourself feel bad. Personally, i wish all my art friends success and improvement, and i want them to love and feel proud of their work more than the times they hate it. We really need to uplift each other as artists.

Thanks.

What you think and say is what you become and if youre always negative and comparing youre gonna tear down both the person you admire and yourself. Ie, if youre constantly thinking ‘ill never be as good as this person’,’no ones ever gonna like my work’, ‘i cant color as well as they do’ or saying that your work is only ever garbage... newsflash asshole! your mind absorbs that negativity and makes you believe it! u fool!!!!! Because brains are stupid and can be your worst enemy at times!

Sometimes you just need to stOP looking at certain peoples work completely if it gets you that bitter or angry or sad. Unfollow them! Block them! Delete their name from your search history if you have to! Stop hurting yourself and forget about them, it’s like trying to think about an ex thats moved on. Pointless.

Negative emotions such as sadness and anger are our brains direct ways at trying to reach out to ourselves.

You: seeing cool art Your mind: remembering you dont have some of those skills or popularity + comparing = sadness/ anger/ bitterness at not being able to be at that lvl withtin the same timeframe or less

Your brain is trying to tell you to fix this! But you know you might not have the tools to gain that much popularity or become so good at anatomy, coloring , compositions or backgrounds overnight, so the only solution for your brain is to self-sabotage.

It’s just the same as suddenly feeling sad for no reason. It’s your mind trying to work out a problem you never resolved. Maybe your friends haven’t replied in awhile and you feel ignored. Or you subconsciously remembered a bad experience without really realizing. You’ll get sad. Your mind is is saying ‘Hey asshole im sad. I know it might be out of your control but I’ll stay sad about this one thing until you resolve it somehow. ’ (whether it be blindly distracting yourself on purpose or fully wallowing in the feelings)

So we realized youre feeling intensely about this persons work vs your own...then what exactly happened there? The answer is pretty simple. Some kind of information processing happened in your brain. The result of this processing made the your mind conclude that one of your existing problems (art in this case) can never be solved; whether conscious or unconscious, and this explains why your mood might change all of a sudden without any kind of warning signs (in relation to what you saw).

Inspired VS Jealousy When youre inspired youre working against yourself in a GOOD way. You’re feeling motivated to make something great! Youre feeling motivated to make something better than the last piece!! And honestly thats wonderful!!! That is a lot nicer than being in art-block, comparison negativity hell.

YOU are the only one responsible for where you are as an artist. That goes towards every artist of every skill level! There’s always someone better than you and there’s always someone worse than you. People get better at art in different intervals depending on how much they take in or put into practicing. Some people just get some concepts and fundamentals a lot easier and quicker than others but that doesn’t mean they naturally had that ability from birth. They put in the work just as you should be doing instead of feeling so intensely negative! But when you’re jealous and negative all the time, that’s when it starts to go downhill. :/

Jealously is a very human emotion at its core. And im not saying its super easy to deal with and just suddenly get over, but there are things you can do to slowly help yourself do it at least a little less.

Here’s the best things you CAN do instead:- - Write down some of the things you find yourself feeling bitter over about, especially when you look at another artists work? Ask yourself why these specific things? If it’s something you yourself can work on in your own pieces then maybe uh do that? - Find the time to practice your work. - Practice even more. - If it’s your style that you arent happy with think of the artstyles you like and set aside time to mimic the way that artist might draw something (hence adding that to YOUR style). Take a sketchbook page or two and just draw entirely in those styles. - Practice. I can’t stress this enough. I know artists say this a lot and it can kind of just be thrown around carelessly, but if you keep putting this off and saying you don’t want to practice or talking about how time is going by when you should be practicing things.... and STILL refuse to practice then???? I cant help you sorry. Time waits for no one, so sometimes you need to grab time by the horns and kick its ass for awhile. Put in that effort! - Please use references. Even better if you use it nearly EVERYTIME you draw something, especially yknow...if its a pose, body part or background that you know you have no idea how to properly express! Find a stock image or a variety of websites to use! Save poses that you like from online magazines, other artists and photographs you see anywhere online. I like to look at online magazines from other countries or photographers, and there are tons of places like pinterest or instagram and whatnot. - Stop comparing and being bitter. Ii cant say this enough it gets me so ticked off, but my stubborn taurus self refuses to fully go off until it all piles up and this post is the result lol. If you know you can’t let go hating on a certain artist (for no good reason) then dont hate-follow them! Don’t check up on their work constantly! Don’t even talk about them!!!!!!! Try to get them out of your head for goodness sakes. Majority of the time they dont even know who YOU are so why are you worried about what they’re up to. - STOP SHITTING ON YOUR OWN WORK. - STOP IT RIGHT NOW. - AS THE ARTIST SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO FORCE YOURSELF TO SAY ‘’hey, my work isn’t exactly where i want it to be at this point in time and it may never be but i can appreciate that i’ve gotten better at a lot of things and im better than where i was a few years/ a year/ a month ago/ even weeks ago.” - ”I’m proud of this piece and can’t wait to get even better.” - Art is a struggle that takes time, effort and a lot of work. There’s always going to be someone better than you and there’s always going to be someone worse than you. You can only strive to get to the level that would make you happiest, otherwise you will get irritated with it and feel absolutely miserable about everything you produce. - PUT IN THE WORK TO GET YOUR ART OUT THERE. Social media has been both a curse and a blessing to artists all around. It’s made it easier for us to share our work around and opened paths for making money online and at home and connecting with other artists, but competition grows everyday as more people post their work in the same market. (ie another reason why it can be hard to get your commissions out there) Also as artists we want that dopamine rush you get from people liking your stuff, i get that its gucci. -But if you aren’t tagging your works well, posting somewhat consistently, not really bothering to talk to people in certain art communities (even people in your fandom because hey potential friends and even partners on future projects), not adding your works to groups (a big problem i see with people on places like deviantart mostly), joining and sharing them in art group chats/aminos/discords, joining events to get yourself out there (such as zines/big bangs/gift exchanges etc), giving tips and advice or even little helpful tutorials to people then how do you expect to be noticed? How. If youre not doing at least TWO of these things then hoW can you complain about not getting attention. :(

Of course you dont have to do ALL of this. Im just saying ...if you arent out there advertising how will more people know about you? This leads to you thinking no one likes your art (skill level excluded because even my cringiest old art would have a few comments or encouragements to see my future improvement, and i still want to hide when people like/comment/reblog said old art to this very day).

I understand mainly OC artists feel this way that no ones gonna like their characters, or it just doesnt get reblogged enough in general but thats understandable too. No one is ‘selling out’ if they only do fanart. No one is ‘snobby or scared to get themselves out there’ if theyre really enthusiastic about their stories and worlds. Otherwise we wouldnt have fandoms int he first place, theyre all someones work. And hell, good for you if you draw both. It really is just a matter of how you put yourself out there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’ll take some time but there IS always someone out there that likes your stuff. And sometimes you just have to be content with making work for yourself, work that makes you happy. The online art world is tough especially when youre small but once you fall into the depths of bitterness its hard to rewire your mind...

This is how yall should be looking at your/others work majority of the time: You: seeing cool art Your mind: omg thats beautiful! i wish i could draw and paint like that. i should practice more , try out some poses and anatomy or implement what they do into my work. i wanna make a cool ass piece like this too i feel so pumped to draw and work!!

And that’s that! Do yourself a favor and be happier you bastards! Its tiring being negative and sad all the time and i want tf out of it. Its so very tiring and annoying to be sad and bitter as shit!!!!! My goD

I can’t really think of anything else to add to this and the text may appear angry sometimes as i was very heated when i wrote this but tried to tone it down a lot hfkds. Im not some ‘art guru goddess with supreme skill uwuw’ but advice is advice! It’s always up to the person listening to take it or not.

I’m gonna end this with one of my favorite art quotes of all time from t h e Arin Hanson himself. Because it really is true.

Get yourself out there, practice towards a level that makes you content and try to have more fun with loving your work.

It’s taken me a long while to post this, as i’ve been feeling this way for...at least a couple months??? but i finally put it all out there i just needed to do this lol. Sorry if i mightve repeated info sometimes here and there?

This post is just as much of a call out to my own actions but more so @ those of you that specifically do this!

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sabrinaleethings · 6 years

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Writer’s Block: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Howdy internet!

I haven’t always been a writer, in fact only within the past few years I’ve started doubling down and taking writing seriously.

I went to college for illustration back in 2015, and it was then I hit my first mental block when it came to artistic inspiration. It sucked! I remember distinctly two separate pieces I had to do where I couldn’t for the life of me get the pencil on my sketchbook, and ended up handing in my assignments late because I couldn’t for the life of me get through whatever artistic block I was struck in.

That leads me to now- artist block and writers block varies from person to person. Sometimes mental health issues like depression or anxiety causes people to avoid writing (or drawing etc.) - and sometimes make it physically impossible get anything done. If you know that this is one of the main factors in keeping you from doing what you want to do, please talk to someone! Seek help from someone you trust, whether it be a friend, your family, or even a doctor!

Now, if there’s more to your story (pun fully intended) and somehow you’re finding yourself stuck in the middle of a scene or a random dialogue, or terrified to write very beginning of your piece, I’ve got a few tips and tricks I use to bust through the mental wall and create some kick-ass products!

Let’s do this!

Let’s Start at the Beginning, shall we?

So, before you’ve even started anything. Let’s say your given a task or you have the itch to write- you know the one where your hands are BEGGING you to type something, or write something, but you just....can’t?

Happens to me all the freaking time. Here’s what I do:

If I sit down somewhere to type or write and my mind is like a huge bowl of pudding, I move my booty.

Sometimes changing your work space, or even the physical location of your body can clear up some of the gunk in your brain.

Instead of sitting in your bed (like I usually do) move to your desk, take a notebook outside on your porch, sit on the couch (with the TV turned off), go to your local library or bookstore, become a hermit in a cafe somewhere- you’d be surprised at how well this works!

Skim through some of your favorite books for inspiration

This gets your brain moving in a “writers” kind-of way!

I like to flip through my Maggie Stiefvater books and read random scenes, or (my favorite) read some poetry (My go-to being “Our Numbered Days” by Neil Hilborn)

Check out some art or fanart from your favorite fandoms or artists!

Now, don’t let this be your excuse to procrastinate and get stuck on tumblr for hours on end (*cough cough* @me)

The key here is to yes, scroll through tumblr artists, instagram drawings, or even your favorite art book, BUT while doing this, let your mind wander. Imagine your own scenes or scenarios in your head while you do so-you’d be surprised how easy it is to clear the clutter in your head when you let yourself zone out and relax!

Now, the ugly sorta trick that I do sometimes (even though it’s gonna sound awful).

Just do it. *Insert Shia LaBeouf*

Put your hand to the paper, put your fingers on the keys, turn on your audio recording device and just bullshit something.

If I’m sitting at my computer with severe mental block about a scene I’m writing, and I can’t seem to break the funk, I just start typing something. Alot of the time it’s a “what would happen if...” and I write it. Usually it begins like a rusty machine, rough and crappy, but once you get your fingers moving and your thoughts begin to just lay themselves down on the paper or on the screen, most of the time your good to go and the mental block is gonzo!

White Space Anxiety

Whatchu talking about, Sabrina? Wellllll have you ever got a new notebook and you just, cant wait to start writing something in it, but suddenly nothing seems worthy to be written down? Have you ever opened a new word or google docs document and suddenly your fingers forgot how to word?

Lots of peeps, (me included) suffer from this type of writer’s anxiety and it prevents us from actually writing anything- total writer’s block!

Whelp let me help with what I’ve found that works:

Skip the first page!

If you got yourself a fancy new leather bound, engraved, blessed journal, or a fresh new staple’s notebook with the fancy cloth cover, just flip past the first page (the one where a bookplate or “title page” would go-) and start from page 2 or on.(If you’re super desperate like me, start five or six pages in!) By doing so, you’re tricking your brain that you’ve already written in said journal and most of the anxiety about making things “perfect” go away!

If your typing on a document, turn the font to like, a hundred!

I sometimes do this if I feel I keep focusing on the quantity of words I’m able to pump out on the first page, rather than what I should be writing.

By super pumping up that font size, you’ll fill the first few pages faster and almost immediately, and the happy hormones in your brain are gonna be like, “yes! you’re writing, good job-keep going!”

Once you’ve written like six or seven pages (maybe more depending if you went for the 150 pt font) reset the size back to normal when you feel like stopping or you feel like you’re on a roll, and voila! You’re on your way to a productive (and self-satisfying) day!

Okay, now that you’ve gotten at least something written and you find yourself in the middle of an idea or scene and suddenly ... dun dun dun You’re mind is drawing a blank. Writer’s block has fully set itself inside your noggin right in the middle of all your hard work, what do you do now!?

Writer’s Block Right in the Dang Middle

It sucks, and it happens.

Sometimes if you’ve been working a lot, and you’re not realizing how exhausted your mind actually is - it can feel like it turns off sometimes.

If you don’t have a strict deadline, and you’ve gotten a bunch done, sometimes taking a break is what you need. It sucks, because I know how much you want to write, but your mental health comes first and you deserve a break too!

Whether you just take a walk, or go grab some wine or juice, give your brain a break!

Do something other than writing- go stimulate other parts of your brain, come back, and see the difference!

Along the same line, if you do indeed have a deadline sneaking up on you and you’ve got yourself a bunch more to do but get stuck, try these things:

Take a short break.

Short meaning don’t spend hours and the rest of your day/night trolling through the internet or lose yourself neck deep in conspiracy theories on YouTube (I feel personally attacked here)

Save your work, get up from your spot, and leave the room if possible.

Leaving your room and physically moving your body, gets your blood pumping again and wakes you up subconsciously and that alone can help!

Drink water. H2O. Agua.

Sometimes, after I’ve been typing for what feels like forever, I don’t realize how much time passes, and suddenly realizes it’s been four hours and I haven’t had anything to eat/drink.

It’s easy to get dehydrated and as living beings on this place called Earth, we need water. Sometimes drinking a big glass of ice-cold refreshing water is just what your body needs to do its job! (Did I make you thirst? Good, drink some water! Take care of yourself!)

If you’re in the middle of a scene and can’t physically put into words what happens next:

Skip the scene!

Don’t stress yourself too badly on it if it’s not coming to you naturally. Move on to the next part in your piece, and start with a fresh idea! (You can always go back after, and finish/include the part you skipped!)

Re-read the last couple paragraphs you’ve written, and change up the last couple sentences (sometimes even paragraphs). Completely re-write them, or get rid of em!

Sometimes a writer’s block in the middle of the scene can quite possibly be your own novel or piece’s way of telling you that you’ve dug yourself into a little bit of a ditch and now you have to climb out of it. Meaning the way you’ve ended things in the previous sentences, don’t allow for a good, fluid transition into the next part of the scene.

Totally re-write the scene or idea that your working on!

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve deleted entire pages of crap that I could not continue to write, because I kept getting stuck.

Sometimes after fleshing out a scene or idea so perfectly, things become stale and unable to be continued simply because there’s something, some element or transitioning, just doesn’t work. Taking a great big hypothetical rubber eraser and getting rid of everything might just be the way to go!

More simple things to do if you find yourself with a writer’s block in the middle of your piece

Plan out what you’re going to write.

If you’re a ‘pantser’ (someone who writes without any, or very minimal planning beforehand) sometimes you need to plan your next moves - not only will it allow you to better flesh out your plot, but it can show you possible plot holes that you’re stuck in at the moment. It can also give you a very specific direction to move in if you know what happens next.

Change the music you’re listening to/ put on some tunes if your not!

Google “inspirational quotes for writers” ... trust me on this one.

Go make some food... and then come back quickly after!

*Make sure it isn’t a super carb-heavy or ‘thick’ food- you don’t wanna be sleepy afterwards!

And along with the previous point-brew some coffee or tea!

Curse. Heavily. Outloud.

Of course this all depends where you’re located.

And if you can’t curse, or don’t like to, sing loudly to yourself or yell random things out loud!

Ideas include: “Let it go, LET IT GO...” “I will write this fudgning piece of doo doo even if it kills me! You got this, you lovely, talented writer, JUST DO IT.”

In conclusion to this super long, probably-never-will-be-read-post- writer’s block happens, and it is something that can be overcome if you allow yourself to try something different!

Holy guacamole that was a long one- sorry about that.

Anything I’m missing? What have you tried that has actually worked? Let me know!

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reddie-prompts · 6 years

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Freckles and Constellations

(Reddie fic based on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70L9mzLMTEg which is a rlly good song, Dodie Clark is an amazing artist, you should go listen to her music) (another note, I headcanon that Richie plays the guitar and sings really good sadfg)

It was a cool day in Derry, was fall was transitioning into winter, and the Losers were hanging out in the barrens, where they’d started a small fire to keep warm. Along with the fire, they’d all wrapped themselves in two big blankets. “It’s just extra warmth so we won’t get sick,” was the excuse Eddie gave, but they all knew it was an excuse to cuddle with his friends. Of course, none of them objected. They sat around the fire, laughing, telling jokes and “horror stories” from their holidays spent at their family’s. Every once in awhile, the phrase “so who’s gonna feed the fire?” would come up, and would met by a few mumbles, and occasionally someone would yell out “Nose goes!”, either way, Mike always ended up being the one to get up and stir the fire, and add in a few more sticks, since he knew if he didn’t, no one else would. There was a particular time he got up to stir the fire, which Richie piped up to, saying “Ah, bless you, beautiful baby boy. Mike, my man, if it weren’t for you, we’d all freeze.” Everyone chuckled and shook their heads at this. “Maybe the world would be better if Richie Tozier did freeze.” Mike retorted, sitting back down. “Aw, c’mon Mike, you know you love me. You all do.” Richie said, reaching his arm around Bill and Stan to poke Mike’s arm. There was a sarcastic “yeahhh” shared between the Losers after Richie said that, which sent him into a giggle fit. More than 7 hours had passed since they’d started the fire, and the sky was starting to get dark. Bill stood up, and looked at his watch. “Well guys, it’s been lovely, but I gotta get home before dinner, or mom’ll have a fit.” Stan stood up and wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing Bill’s hand. “Yeah, and I’m having dinner with him, and believe it or not, I don’t want to have dinner with my boyfriend’s corpse.” Bev snickered and rested her head on Mike’s shoulder. “Okay lovebirds, get outta ‘ere then.” Bill and Stan glanced at each other for a second, then looked away blushing. Stan rubbed the back of his neck and Bill waved to all of them, beofre they began to climb the rocky cliff by the bridge a few yards away from where they’d set up “camp”. Richie whistled after them, yelling something dumb about them not kissing too much in front of Bill’s parents. It wasn’t long after that when Ben’s watch went off, signalling the time his mom had given him to be home. “Damn. Sorry guys, I gotta motor. Y’know my mom’s rule about curfew and the cops ‘n such.” He stood up, and was a bit surprised to see Mike follow him. “I’ll walk you,” he said, clarifying why he also stood up, after noticing Ben’s weird expression. “I gotta get home anyways.” Ben smiled and nodded, turning to the last three Losers. “Will you guys be okay here yourselves?” “Yeah, I’ll watch the fire since these two won’t.” Eddie said, pointing a thumb at Richie and Bev. Richie shrugged, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “He’s not wrong.” Mike rolled his eyes, smiling. “Okay, see you guys tomorrow maybe?” “Maybe.” The three responded in unison. The night began to get darker, and the fire began to die, the three remaining Losers huddles closer together, Bev and Eddie resting their heads on Richie’s shoulders. Eddie yawned, nuzzling into Richie’s neck. “Getting tired, Eds?” Eddie shook his head. “Yeah, a little bit, but I’ll be fine.” Bev sat up and stretched, blinking a few times, in attempt to keep herself awake. “Nah, I’m getting sleepy, too, we should get going.” She stood up, and grabbed the stick they’d been using to stir the fire, and poked at the embers. “Who wants to put it out? I’ve got a water bottle.” Richie instantly stood up, grinning. “I’ll do it!” “I only have one bottle, if you don’t put it out, if you fuck up,” Bev warned, turning around, and picking up the bottle from the ground, “I’ll kick your ass. I’m tired and I want to go home, so let’s not mess around, okay? Richie nodded, and grabbed it from her, unscrewing the cap. He gently dumped it in, making a show to prove to Bev he’d do it right. Once the fire was out, he gave the bottle back to Bev, and turned to Eddie, who looked like at any moment he could pass out. “Hey, Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, you there, buddy?” He asked, snapping his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. Eddie slapped his hand away with a scowl. “Don’t call me that.” Richie laughed, and held out a hand to him. “We’re heading off, space kadet. You coming?” Eddie grabbed his hand and stood up, wobbling a bit since he’d been sitting in practically the same position for the past 7 hours, and they were a bit numb. Richie snorted, grabbing his forearm to help keep him stable. “Thanks,” Eddie said, wiping his hands on his jeans. He leaned over and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. “Alright, Bev is it okay if we drop you off first?” Eddie asked, shivering a bit now that he didn’t have the heat of his friends and the fire warming his small body. “Yeah, that’s fine. You look cold though, you can keep my blanket, just give it back whenever.” Eddie smiled gratefully, and the began their journey to Bev’s. “So your old man’s not gonna kill ya for being out so late?” Richie asked as they neared her house. “Oh, I’m sure he’s in bed by now. If not, I’ll sneak in the back door, and pretend I’ve been home for hours.” She winked and gave them a thumbs up. As the walked up the block she lived on, they all looked at the front window, checking to see if it was on. If it was, her father was still awake, and if it wasn’t, he wasn’t. Luckily for her, it was off, and she sighed with relief. She kissed both of them on the cheeks and left them with a “Oh thank god. See you guys tomorrow!” before jogging off to her house. As soon as Bev entered her house, Richie dipped his hand under the blanket to grab Eddie’s hand. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and hadn’t told the Losers yet, just because both of them were nervous about the entire thing. They knew their friends would accept them, but the relationship was so new, the anxiety was just too high for them to say anything yet. Eddie smiled up at Richie, and leaned on his side. “Rich, I’m not ready to go home yet.” He whined softly, squeezing his hand. Richie smiled, and squeezed his hand back. “We can stop by my place for a bit and hang out. I doubt anyone’s home, we can chill in my room, so then incase anyone does come home, I can sneak you out the window.” Eddie smiled and nodded. He hated being sneaky, but he loved how much Richie cared for him, especially going to the length of shoving him out the window, and sprinting back to Eddie’s house.

They walked into Richie’s house and shed their jackets. “You want some coffee to warm you up?” Richie asked. “I know you don’t know how to use the coffee machine.” Eddie replied, laughing. “I’ll do it. You go upstairs and clean off your bed.” “Hey! It’s not that dirty!” Richie said, holding his hand to his chest in a dramatic, offended manner. Eddie put his hands on his hips. “Do you really want to hang out with your boyfriend with your cumrags on your bed?” He raised an eyebrow. Richie opened his mouth to protest, then ran upstairs. Eddie laughed as he walked into the kitchen. He filled a filter, slid it into place, flipped the lid down. He crossed the room to the sink, and grabbed two mugs from the drain rack and took the empty one to the coffee machine. He put it under the dispenser, and pressed “start”.

Richie threw his clothes off his bed, and kicked them into the corner of the room. He quickly made his bed, then sat on it, messing with his fingers impatiently. Not more than a minute had passed when he decided he was bored, and he leaned over to the other side of his bed, and picked up his guitar. Eddie grabbed both mugs and began up the stairs. He nearly tripped twice, and almost screamed because he almost spilt his coffee, but he didn’t, and he was proud of himself. He pushed Richie’s bedroom door open with his foot, and smiled. Richie was on his bed strumming away at his guitar, singing under his breath. He was so into it, he hadn’t even noticed Eddie enter the room, which was surprising, because his trip up the stairs wasn’t too quiet. He pushed the door mostly shut with his foot again, and set their mugs down on Richie’s bedstand. He sat gently on the bed, and kissed behind RIchie’s ear. “You sound amazing.” He whispered, grinning as he buried his face into Richie’s face. Richie jumped a bit in surprised, nearly dropping his guitar. “Jesus Eds, you scared the shit out of me. Warn a dude before you go up behind him and kiss ‘im, okay?” Eddie laughed, and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist. “I’m pretty sure almost tripping all the way up the stairs was a good enough warning.” Richie felt his ears blush a bit, and he rested his head on Eddie’s. “Anyways, what were you playing?” Eddie asked, poking Richie’s guitar. “Oh, it’s just something dumb I’ve been working on.” He replied, blushing more as he set his guitar back on the floor. He turned back to Eddie, laying back, pulling his boyfriend down with him. They laid there for awhile, just staring into each other's eyes. “I have an idea,” Richie said softly, ending the silence. He rolled over and reached into his bed stand, rolling back over with a black marker in his hand. “No, no, no, Richie, if you draw a dick on my face my mom will-” “Oh shush,” Richie said, pulling the cap off with his teeth. “Richie, do not!” Eddie threatened, pulling his face away a bit. “Hold still, Eds, I have an idea. You gotta trust me.” Eddie huffed quietly and closed his eyes. “Okay, go for it.” He felt a few pokes on his cheek, then he felt Richie drawing lines. It only took about a solid minutes before Richie pulled the marker back and yelled “Voila!” Eddie opened his eyes and sat up, fighting the urge to scratch where the ink was on his cheek. “What did you do?” He asked, putting his hand to his face. “Go look in the mirror.” Richie replied, beaming. Eddie stood up and walked to the mirror Richie had hung on his wall, and Richie followed. He stood on his tiptoes to be able to see his face clearly, and turned his face to the side, examining his temporary tattoo. He turned back to Richie quickly, smiling. “The big dipper?” Richie couldn’t help but to giggle. “Yeah! When I was looking at your face I couldn’t help but to wonder if any of your freckles made actual constellations, and I guess they do!” Eddie smiled, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around Richie. “You’re kind of a nerd, Richie.” He said softly, as Richie hugged him back. “Ah, but I’m your nerd.” Richie replied, making Eddie giggle. Eddie looked up at Richie and gently kissed his chin. “God I love you.” He whispered softly. Richie smiled and buried his face in Eddie’s hair. “I guess this makes this official, huh?” “Yeah, I guess it kinda does.” Eddie responded, pulling back a little, and grabbing Richie’s hand, lancing their fingers together. Richie giggled a little bit, earning a weird look from Eddie. “What?” He asked, frowning a little. “Haha.... Gay.” “Richie, we’re dating.” Eddie said, squinting at him. “Yeah, and it’s gayyyyyy.” Richie giggled, twisting their arms to Eddie’s back was now facing him. He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist. “But I think I like being gay.” He whispered to Eddie. “Oh, well I’d hope so.” Eddie replied, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the part where you’re supposed to say ‘wow, me too, Richie!, Eddie, my dear.” Richie said, setting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder and pouting. “Oh I’m sorry, your highness. ‘Wow, me too, Richie!’” Eddie replied, mockingly. “It’s just not the same.” Richie sighed wistfully. “Oh shut up Richie.” Eddie said, squirming out of his arms. He sat on the bed, and Richie followed. Richie only had to pout another minute or so before Eddie broke the silence saying, “You know I love you, right?” Richie looked down at him, grinning. “Yeah, I was just pouting to get something out of you. Now that I know it works I definitely see myself using it in the future. “ “Don’t you fucking guilt trip me to say I love you RIchie.” Eddie replied sharply. “Will you say it without me guilt tripping you?” “I just did not more than 2 minutes ago, Richie.” Richie thought for a moment before giggling. “Oh yeah.” Eddie sighed and rested his head on Richie’s arm. “You’re kind of a pain.” Eddie mumbled. “Yeah, I try.” There was another brief moment of silence before Richie kissed the top of Eddie head, and wrapped and arm around his waist. “I love you too.”

#it #it 1990 #it 2017 #it book #reddie #reddie fic #eddie x richie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it fanfiction #it fandom #mod jordan #wow mod jordan?? writing original content?? unheard of!!!

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welcometohellfilm · 7 years

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(please bear with me) Okay, so, I'm a 15 year old freshman in highschool, and I've wanting to create some sort of series, whether it be a comic, or something else for a few years. I haven't too serious about it, but after one my of my friends showed me your video, for some reason, i was especially inspired. Now, I already have one character... but that's all i got. How did you come up with the things in your film? And did you ever experience "writer's block"? and if so, how did you deal with it?

No worries dude! So okay, I’m gonna’ be honest, when I read this, I was hit with such a weird mix of, like, “god this is literally impossible to answer”, and “man I remember feeling that way when I was 15″. So I guess the best thing I could do is elaborate.

I 100% absolutely know the feeling of “I want to create some sort of series.” Cause that’s the thing right? You don’t always know what you want it to be about, or what format you want (comic, animation, etc), you just know that you want to be known as an artist who is creating an on-going series. But maybe you have some vague ideas about scenes that you want to happen. Maybe you have an idea of the kind of relationships you want to portray. Maybe you have some lines of dialogue or a couple jokes. In this case, you even have a character! Which is great! Now you’re really eager to get started!

I had a bunch of vague ideas like that. I had characters I wanted to use for a story, but didn’t know what their story was. Sometimes I’d try and start a comic; I’d start to try and tell their story… but I would get a few pages in and give up, because I realized that I didn’t actually know where it was going, and so the characters would get kind of goofy and I’d try and pass it off as a lazy meta joke. There’d be some Ambiguous Shadowy Figures™ running the Evil Science Laboratory™ that my Main Character Bishounen Boy With Wings For Some Reason™ had escaped from. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, I was just really excited to draw a pretty anime boy with angel wings.

I jumped right in to making comics like this maybe… 4 or 5 times? And every time went roughly the same. Looking back now, I couldn’t tell you the characters’ names, or what half of them looked like. I wasn’t even being facetious about the winged anime boy; that was a literal, actual comic I tried to draw in 6th grade, and I had completely forgotten about it until just now as I’m typing this. You’re probably going to have a lot of ideas like that. You might see characters come and go who never really get a story. That’s going to be part of your journey as a storyteller. Maybe your series won’t fizzle out after a few pages of bullshit like mine did (in fact I can already tell you’re more cautious than I ever was, because you’re aware of your situation and asking for advice… that’s another reason I’m so compelled to answer this ask; when I was your age the internet was different; social networking platforms weren’t a thing and I didn’t have a way to contact artists I looked up to and ask for advice, so the least I can do is try and fill that role now. This is a whole ‘nother topic, but TO GET BACK TO IT) I’m here to tell you that, IF IT DOES, don’t sweat it. You will get better at writing, you will get better at creating characters, and, god-willing, you will surely have better ideas than Pretty Anime Boy With Wings™.

Now, to move on to the part that’s (hopefully) actually helpful.

You used two phrases that I find interesting. I already mentioned the first one, “some sort of series”, but the other one I’m zoning in on is “How did you come up with the things in your film?” I want you to know that I’m by no means trying to talk down to you here, because this is actually a very straightforward way of asking something you might not have all of the right vocabulary for yet, but I take it what you’re asking is “how do you tell a story?”. If the first few paragraphs I wrote correspond with “man I remember feeling that way when I was 15”, then these next ones are gonna’ be the “god this is literally impossible to answer” part, and I’m just gonna’ go ahead and apologize for that right up front, man! Haha.

See, because that’s SUCH a huge question… that’s the part that I still struggle with. That’s the part I said you’ll get better and better at over time—and you will—but I think it’s something you’ll always be learning to get better at. I went to visit my family for the holidays and I borrowed a book to read on the plane: Story: Style, Structure, Substance, and the Principles of Screenwriting by Robert McKee. I only got a couple chapters in before I remembered that I get motion-sick like a motherfucker and had to stop, but even in a few chapters I learned some new things. You will constantly be learning and growing and bettering your skills, so don’t forget that!

There are lots of ways to tell stories, because there’s lots of different kinds of stories to tell. Some methods work better than others. I would suggest finding some things you like and making note of how they function… really dig in to them. Maybe when you were a kid you took a clicky pen apart to see how it worked and then put it back together. Try doing the same with the media you consume. Not to turn into a cynic or anything, just out of curiosity to learn what makes it tick. Think of it as STUDYING the comics and shows and movies you like.

Since you’re asking me, I’ll use Welcome to Hell as an example to try and give you some things to think about. I consider W2H to be character-driven; the character’s actions are what moves the story forward, the characters aren’t being forced to act because of the story. There’s nothing wrong with either method, of course, it just depends on what you’d like to do. Maybe since you already have a character, you can find a way for them to drive the story. What do they want? How will they get it? What’s stopping them? Is their conflict internal or external? I think Sock has two wants: he wants to kill stuff, and he wants to be Jonathan’s friend. What’s stopping him is that his two wants conflict with each other (an internal conflict), and also that his boss is the devil and there may be repercussions if he slips up (an external conflict). Characters don’t have to have an internal and external conflict, and they don’t have to have two wants—in fact that’s actually a little convoluted—but I’m just using it as an example.

Another useful thing to think about when telling a story is the structure. From Wikipedia: “Narrative structure is about STORY and PLOT: the content of a story and the form used to tell the story. STORY refers to the dramatic action as it might be described in chronological order. PLOT refers to how the story is told. STORY is about trying to determine the key conflicts, main characters, setting and events. PLOT is about how, and at what stages, the key conflicts are set up and resolved”

There are also different categories of narrative structure. W2H is basically a linear narrative, for example. It does technically start at the end and then explain how we got there, but the majority of the story is told in chronological order. The reason it starts at the end is because I wanted to establish Sock and Jonathan’s relationship and the tone of the story right off the bat. I thought it might be too confusing to start the story with Sock murdering his parents and then have it turn into a buddy-comedy half way through. So I started it on a scene where they already know each other and have an established dynamic. I also think starting it there creates a bit of intrigue: “why is this kid phasing through a fridge? What the fuck is happening? What is his job? What the FUCK is his job??? SHHH!!—The unreliable narrator is about to explain it!”.

There are literally TONSSSSS of aspects to think about when writing a story, and it’d be impossible for me to go through all of them, but hopefully this will be helpful for you to get started. If I were you, in addition to studying the stories you like, I would do some research and reading online. You can always google terms like “storytelling 101”, “narrative structure”, “writing characters”, etc. One of my favorite resources to read through was always (and still is) TVTROPES. It’s like a wiki for the tips and tricks of telling stories… I used to spend HOURS just getting lost in that site, clicking on different articles and finally learning that there were TERMS for the kind of things I constantly think about. Very invaluable resource.

And now, for the last part of your question, unfortunately, “writer’s block” is something that will never go away, haha. There are ways to get through it, for sure. Sometimes I’ll read TVtropes a bit if I’m really hellbent on figuring something out. Other times I’ll just take a break to draw a little bit because I think my thoughts form more coherently and naturally when I’m drawing. You might find different things that work for you!

IN CONCLUSION: If you want to create some sort of series and tell some kind of story, just work towards getting good at it. If you try to start a couple comics and they don’t pan out, it’s no big deal, because even making something unsuccessful is an act of learning how to get better at it. You said you haven’t been too serious about it until recently, and that’s fine too, because being serious about it doesn’t necessarily mean you have to go out and create a successful series right this moment, it can mean just striving for that goal and bettering your craft. You have plenty of time to grow into an amazing artist and make all kinds of kick-ass stories, so always hang on to your drive to keep creating things!

Oh! And just a fun fact: I think I first started having the vague ideas that would develop into W2H when I was, what, 17-18? ish? I tried making it into a comic when I was maybe 21… and I made the film when I was, I don’t know, 24? I’m 28 right now. So that’s something to keep in mind: good shit takes time! You’ll probably have a lot of ideas come and go, but if something sticks with you for 10 years, there’s a good chance it’s worth bringing to fruition. There’s definitely no rush to develop something you really care about.

BONUS:

Here is a previous ask i’ve answered about storytelling tips!And here is another one!

You can also search my blog for “art advice”, “story”, “writing”, “character”, “animation”, etc., + “ask” to see if I might’ve answered anything else that would be helpful. I don’t have specific tags, but I do try to tag everything. You can also try “resources” or “important film stuff” to see things I’ve reblogged that aren’t my own advice.

Hope you found some of this helpful! Best of luck!

#this is the post I was angry about losing last night #I spent 3 and a half hours typing this shit #I hope to GOD it helps #slfklajjd #ask #personal #story #storytelling #advice #art advice #lazilydeepcoffee

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