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#so proud of myself for the two sentence conversations i've started
hadikaesque · 1 year
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I talked to the two classmates sitting beside me today instead of not acknowledging them due to my social anxiety. Growth.
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laurfilijames · 4 months
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All week I told myself that on Sunday, I was going to write all day.
I opened my laptop up for the first time in two weeks. I haven't written a word since I finished editing Expensive and tried for over an hour to work on my series Like My Dreams.
I thought about it all week and have been so eager to continue it, only the words won't come.
I know it's not for lack of passion or wanting to; I think about this story (and all the other ones) constantly.
I've been trying to deny some feelings for a while, or chalk it up to getting too much in my own head, but today it's come down heavier than ever and what is ultimately responsible for blocking my creativity and turning my love for my stories from thoughts into actual sentences.
I'm lonely.
I've never felt so alone.
The Charlie fandom seems to be relatively non existent, or just extremely quiet.
I have no space. No where I fit in.
I'm on the outskirts, trying to find a spot, constantly seeing if there is a way I can have a place for my ideas, stories, and even friendship, and have it hold some value to the others I'm around.
The more I post on here, the less I feel seen.
Engagement on this platform has reduced drastically across the board, and it's effecting so many artists.
It's not about numbers. I'm sure some of you are probably thinking "your last fic has over 100 notes". Yeah. It does. Almost all of those notes are likes, and more than half the reblogs are my own.
What I'm seeking is engagement. Conversation. A likeness and kinship started by a common interest that blooms into simple conversations and thoughts shared.
Comparison is a bitch. I see so many people living the Tumblr life I wish to have. Asks, comments, reblogs of teasers and moodboards for upcoming fics screaming of excitement and praise and how eager they are to read it. People dropping everything they're doing to read the latest chapter of their friend's new fic.
I realize the many reasons why I'm in a different position than they are, but lately it's been screaming at me louder than ever that I'm lacking something meaningful or whatever I'm doing on here isn't enough.
I've tried creating a buzz around my stories. I am aware that most of the time I write for unpopular characters with a smaller fan base, so I set the bar lower but am still left feeling inadequate even when I write for the popular ones. Whenever I've shared snippets of WIPs in hopes to gain some excitement from my readers, it falls short. Usually it'll inspire me to keep going, to write better than ever and make this next fic The Best One that makes me so happy and excited to get out. (For Charlie, I'll say, and write something I'm so unbelievably proud of) and then sometimes it makes me wonder if I should bother continuing at all.
I know I am not owed anything by anyone and no one is obligated to read or comment or anything of the sort, and I am beyond grateful for the comments and support I do receive, and the friendships I've made, old and new.
I'm not exactly sure what I'm getting at here, I just needed to write it down and "talk" it out.
I've been battling the decision to continue writing but not share it. I don't want that to happen, because as much as I write these stories for myself, a lot of the fun of it comes from being able to share it with all of you.
Nothing dramatic is happening. I'm not leaving, and I will be writing again because I'm not at all done with what I have to say about these characters, I just felt this needed to be said and already feel a little lighter by sharing it.
Write your stories, comment on your favourite fics, scream with your mutuals about a photo or gif that inspired something in you, tell your writer friends and writers you've never spoken to but love their stories just how much you do... I promise it makes more of an impact than you know. 💗
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itcanbegoodagain · 11 months
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how about peeta comforts katniss after a birthday call from her mother or gale
holy shit, i totally forgot i had this in my drafts. i am so sorry!!! enjoy <3
1195 words. mild, mild sexy times. more fade to black than anything.
--
The phone that rests in our study, used more frequently now with the calls to Dr. Aurelius and Peeta's conversations with Annie, chirps out its bright tone. I take one last sip of tea, standing as I do.
Peeta grins at me, saying, "It must be for you."
I roll my eyes at him. "You think?"
"No need to be a smartass," he calls, leaning into my touch as I gently run my hand over his hair as I pass.
"You were first!" I shoot back as I reach the doorway. My pace quickens a bit, fearing the phone will stop ringing before I can pick it up.
When I reach the desk, I lean over and grab the receiver. "Hello?" I ask, sliding around to sit and angling myself to see out the window. Haymitch's geese are flocking around him as he doles out their food, and I bite back a grin as he curses at one for nipping at him.
"Hi Katniss," my mother's voice floats through the receiver, and the smile I was holding back fades away. "How are you?"
"Mom," I start, "Hey. I'm doing well. Just enjoying the day with Peeta. We'll probably have Haymitch over for dinner." I don't tell her that we've just returned from the lake, where we trekked last night to watch the sunrise this morning. We spent the morning in companionable silence; Peeta painted as I swam.
I can hear the soft, sad smile in her voice as she replies, "That sounds wonderful." There's a brief pause, and I know I'm not going to be the one who breaks it. I gnaw on my thumb nail. "I wanted to - well, say happy birthday, honey. It's not everyday your daughter turns twenty-five."
A small pang hits my chest, but not as severely as it might have in the past. Her daughter. Not the eldest of the two, but only one. "Yeah," I manage. "Who'd have thought I'd make it here?"
Ouch. I wince as it comes out, knowing that it's better for me not to say or think those things. "Mom, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she says softly. "You've been through more than anyone should at your age. I'm glad to hear you're healing."
A lump forms in my throat, and it takes me a moment to speak around it. "Me too."
"I'm proud of you," she continues. "For finding a life for yourself and surrounding it with people who love you. Who you love. Prim would be... she would be beyond happy for you. Proud, too. So would your father."
The last sentence comes out so quietly that I almost miss it. Now, I'm truly in danger of crying, so I don't say anything.
"Katniss?" my mom asks. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah," I get out. "Yes." My chest feels like it's going to implode. They should both be here -- all three of them should be here with me. Instead, it's me, Peeta, and Haymitch, this little family I've carved out for myself.
"You don't have to say anything to that, okay? I just wanted you to hear it." She pauses again. "I don't want to keep you too long, but I wanted to call and say happy birthday, and that I love you. Enjoy your day."
"I will," I whisper. "Thank you. I love you too."
"Tell Peeta and Haymitch I say hello."
"I will," I say again, but the line has already clicked dead.
My hand shakes as I return the phone to its place, and I let my eyes fall shut. I take a deep breath in, hold it, then release it. I repeat this a couple more times, and slowly, my composure begins to return.
When tears no longer threaten to make an appearance, I return to the living room. Peeta isn't here anymore, so I grab my thick strand of yarn, fiddling with it as I walk to the slight sounds coming from the kitchen. Peeta is pulling things from the pantry, beginning lunch preparations.
"My mother called," I say quietly. "She says hello."
He stops, setting down what he's holding. Then he takes a few slow steps over and wraps his arms around my waist, stooping just a bit to do so. He holds me so tight, so fiercely, and lifts me off my feet as he straightens back up.
The steadiness of his heartbeat against my own is reassuring. I can feel the tension seeping out of my bones.
My arms are wound tight around his neck, my face buried within them, so it's hard to hear myself when I tell him that I'm okay.
He presses a kiss to the closest part of me he can reach, which happens to be my shoulder, and whispers, "I know."
We stay like that for a minute or two, then Peeta puts me down. He rests his hand on the side of my face, and his thumb runs one swipe along my cheekbone before he returns to lunch preparations.
"Would you like to make the salad or ready the rabbit?"
"The salad," I reply. This will keep my hands busy. I wash them as Peeta measures out the ingredients for my favorite: cheese buns.
We fall into the comfortable routine of making a meal together, and this, too, helps calm me. This is familiar.
"My mother talked about Prim and my father. Said they'd be proud of me," I tell the carrot I'm chopping.
"They would be," Peeta replies. "Absolutely."
"I hope so," I murmur. I don't like admitting it, but these days, I sometimes am proud, too. Life threw everything horrible at me it could, and then some, and here I am, alive, still able to make a peaceful meal with my husband.
A rush of gratitude for what I have hits me, and I pull Peeta into another hug. "Thank you for being here with me. My life is best with you in it."
"You are my life," he whispers. "And everything good about it."
I pull back to look at him, and the love radiating from his eyes is obvious. I kiss him, watching as those beautiful eyes fall shut just before mine do. It's a good thing neither of us had started on the stovetop, seeing as lunch preparations are forgotten for the time being.
He takes me to the couch, touching and whispering love onto every part of my body. It's slow, and gentle, and reminds me that I'm alive. Reminds me that I have a life to live that's no longer clouded with fear and danger. That I can cook with my husband and have sex on our couch and enjoy every moment of it without guilt.
"I love you. I'm grateful for you," I tell him, moving my hips slowly against his. Kiss his mouth, then repeat my love into it until words no longer form on my tongue.
Later, as we are pulling our clothes back on, we get another call. This time, it's Haymitch.
"Are we still doing dinner tonight?" He asks without greeting.
I smile. "Yes, be here at six."
"Alright. Happy birthday, sweetheart."
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9leaguesofmirrors · 8 months
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A Need For Something (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)
Remember when I said I wanted an tender, intimate Gainsgoe fic (3 words I didn't think could be used in a sentence) based on the above quote? Well, this is it! This was perhaps my biggest challenge because how does one write a tender Gainsgoe fic? The answer: with great difficulty
Please remember that I used the quote as a prompt rather than the scene itself, this is NOT a crossover fic or a rewrite of the actual scene because I haven't seen the show the quote comes from (which I've learned is apparently Outlander)
They were at Ross' house when it happened
Neither of them could remember when they started being around each other socially, but it had something to do with the fact they both liked movies that made others sick to their stomach. So, in the end, it worked out well
Soon, it ended up being a conversation about work. Ross was the one to bring it up, much to the exasperation of Lisgoe, who was much happier focusing on the poor man being torn to shreds on his TV screen
"How far have you gone to collect a debt?"
"Knocked out a lot of teeth," Lisgoe answered casually "I keep those in a jar under my desk. Once smashed someone dick and balls in with my knee - that was fun."
"Do you always use violence? Surely people come to expect that, a change in pace would benefit you-"
Lisgoe looked at the TV, clearly hiding something he didn't want to divulge. After a few darting glances at Ross, who was watching him like a hawk, he caved with a huff
"Maybe once or twice, and I'm not proud of it, I felt like I was pimping myself out. But a few times I've needed to... sweet-talk my way in. Never kissed anyone, and I do not fuck them. The people here look like they were made in a lab."
"You've never kissed one?" There was a hint of surprise present in his tone "I mean, clearly too much is unecessary, but you've never gotten close?"
"No. I'd rather cement myself into a bathtub and let ants eat me alive. Besides, I can't think of a single person that would want to do anything with me except knock me out."
They watched the movie in silence, the only sound being the screams of the actors. After a while, they realised that it wasn't worth it and turned it off. That's when it happened
"I would quite like to."
"Like to what?"
"Kiss you."
Lisgoe looked at him with a confused expression. He couldn't quite believe it - actually, he didn't believe it at all
"What the fuck?"
There was no trace of mockery in Ross' eyes. No trace of smugness on his lips. No raise in the eyebrows
It was as if he were telling the truth
"May I?"
Ross' face was still, which unnerved him slightly
"What the fuck?"
"You've said that already."
"And I'll say it again: what the fuck?"
"Don't swear, it's unnecessary."
"It's completely necessary!" Lisgoe's left eye involuntarily twitched, a tiny tell of confusion "I mean... who just asks that?! Especially you! I thought you were completely against me and everything I am. I also didn't think you knew what a kiss was!"
"Rude. But OK."
"And it just- no! No it's not OK! You just sprung that shite on me out of nowhere!"
"Then pretend I didn't say anything."
The look on Lisgoe's face said it all: are you fucking joking?
In the thick, heavy silence, there was a strange and tense energy that they wanted gone as soon as possible. Lisgoe was the one to break it
"I think the rumours are true."
"Excuse me?"
"The ones about that failed comedian and Legz Akimbo's shite director."
"Why are you gossiping with me like a schoolgirl?"
"It's either that or carrying on with the conversation, and I can't be arsed with that."
There was yet another pause, this seemed to be a trademark in their conversations
"Plimsolls and Tipps, two sour grapes in a bunch." Ross leaned back in his chair "A match made in pathetic Heaven."
"Heaven?" Lisgoe barked out a laugh "Are you sure?"
Neither of them could resist laughing a little at that. Lisgoe was slightly surprised to see Ross let the cold mask slip slightly, seeing him smile (actually smiling, not that arrogant little smirk) was a rare but not completely awful sight. He'd never admit it, even to himself, but Ross himself wasn't an awful sight either
Why the fuck would he ask something like that?
Try as he might, small talk wasn't going to shake their prior conversation from Lisgoe's head. As the silence settled around them again, he realised that he'd never actually answered the question. When Ross refused to meet his gaze, he could tell he wanted a response
"What you asked me wasn't OK."
"You've made that clear-"
"Shut up, I'm talking."
Once again, silence. Anymore and Lisgoe felt he would go mad
"What made it not OK is that it came out of nowhere and you expect me to magic up an answer like some magic bastard."
He stood up and stood in front of Ross with gritted teeth, not quite knowing how to force the words from his throat
"But what makes it a really fucking twisted thing to do," he continued, his voice hard as nails and rising from the pit of his stomach "is the fact that my immediate answer wasn't even no."
Ross stood up slowly, brows furrowed in a questioning gaze
"Excuse me?"
"Fuck off, you heard what I said. You just want it repeated back to you! Go on then, have your stupid fucking ego boost! My answer wasn't no. OK? It. Wasn't. Fucking. No."
"Joseph, calm down." Ross' voice was stern and demanding, his hands gripped at Lisgoe's shoulders to hold him still "For once, can't you talk without blowing up?"
At first, neither of then registered the contact. Once they did, they both froze. Their eye-contact was unbroken, neither knew what to say. Ross almost pulled away, but he noticed a tightness in Lisgoe's jaw that his right hand moved up to touch with a strange quality
A quality that should never be attributed to people like them
There was stillness. Slowness
Lisgoe couldn't understand why he was being treated like this. Nobody ever treated him like this, which he knew was partly because he never let anybody so close - and that was both figurative and literal! Even now, he refused to let his guard down. He wasn't going to close his eyes or let himself lean into those gentle hands. No, he was better than that
"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice was level and direct "You want one over me? Is that it?"
"You still haven't actually given me an answer, you just said the answer isn't no." Ross moved his left hand to Lisgoe's other cheek and repeated his previous question: "May I?"
His hands are warm
"Joseph?"
Why are they so fucking warm?
"Joseph, answer the-"
"Shh, I was about to talk!" He snapped, then composed himself "Yes. You may. If you want to word it like that."
At this point, Ross accepted that talking no longer meant anything, yet he only managed to move so close before his limbs seemed to shut down
Both their eyes were closed, barely a breath away from each other
"I haven't done this in a very long time."
"Ross," came the gravelly reply "do you really think I give a shite?"
That was the only hint needed before the gap between them was closed. It was strange, not the kiss itself, but rather how slow it was. How carefully everything seemed to slip into place, nothing felt rushed or frantic. There was no battle for dominance or control, it was built on a simplicity that was a surprise to both of them
"You've been smoking." Ross observed, only pulling away for a moment "A lot."
"Is that a problem?" He retorted "I only do it when I'm fucked off."
"Do you feel like smoking now?"
"The fuck is this? Rehab?"
"I'm asking because you're tense."
"So what? Doesn't matter, does it? Maybe I am tense, this isn't exactly an everyday occurance for me."
Once again, silence. This time though, it wasn't from awkwardness. Ross was giving him a chance to fill it, to let it spill out
"Why are you being kind to me?" Lisgoe asked "All this... gentle shite. It's like you're biding your time until you have me right where you want me. Then you'll fuck me over. So, if that's what this is, then I'm onto you." His voice contorted into a hollow laugh "So you can fuck off."
"... Joseph, when the hell did I say I was going to do that?"
"That's what people do." He responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world "Trust is a weapon, we both know that."
Ross couldn't argue with that. Not because he was lying, but because they'd both used trust as exactly that. A weapon
But now? It was something else, something much more destructive
"You're right." Ross said "I'm doing this for completely selfish reasons."
"I knew it."
"This is entirely for my benefit. Because you could stand here and tell me that you find me the most repulsive, grotesque man in all of Royston Vasey and I would still find a way to you because, as I've already told you, I want something from you. I don't know what, but I need something."
"You said need that time."
"It means the same thing."
"No, it doesn't. But you have that something. I let you kiss me, now can I go? Or is there some more bullshit you want to say?"
Ross went over to where Lisgoe was stood and knelt beside him, which earned him a questioning look
"Are you gonna suck me off or something?"
"No, I'm not."
"Then why the fuck are you kneeling?"
There was no response, instead Ross ran his fingertips slowly up Lisgoe's arm. Although he could feel him shiver slightly, there wasn't any outwardly negative reaction, so he let his hand trail upwards and rest on Lisgoe's upper arm. His other hand carefully guided the man's jaw so they were facing each other, then rested itself on the back of his neck
That warmth again Lisgoe could feel his breath hitch slightly why is it fucking everywhere? It squeezed and wrenched at every part of him, and the more he fought the urge to sink into it, the more it hurt
Then something happened
In the silence, the moment of pause, Lisgoe could feel his mind slipping slowly. And with it, there was something that caused him to gravitate towards Ross. It was invisible, powerful and completely unknown
But their lips fit together like puzzle pieces and there was nothing else
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taggedmemes · 5 months
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SENTENCE MEME THE WOMBATS / FIX YOURSELF, NOT THE WORLD
spare me the drone of your conversation.
spare me my lack of sophistication.
i don't wanna sit around and just get high.
i'm all dressed up.
you walk in the room and my tongue gets tied.
it's such a heavenly sight.
i just hope i don't ruin this.
i just hope i don't ruin this, getting too fucked up to remember this.
you flip me upside down.
you take me out of my head.
i'm kind of getting into it.
you pull me out of my lows.
let's see where this shit goes.
i can't recall all the things you said.
i'm feeling pretty good about the two of us.
i've got a couple secrets.
dwelling on the past just kills the vibe.
one last slide down the rabbit hole.
there's still no room in paradise.
the kids aren't wrong.
i'm looking for a spark in the heart.
you can drag the years behind you, or you can let them go.
i see a tunnel at the end of the light.
i'm always a mess come the end of the night.
i'm forever locking myself in the glass of your rearview.
if you ever leave, i'm coming with you.
you know i'll do whatever you want me to.
i'll get out of bed.
i'm your reluctant optimist.
i'm stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe.
am i losing you in the dark?
no more breaking stuff.
no more acting up.
you only ever catch me out.
if you ever leave me, i'm coming with you.
you can scream like a banshee and still nothing comes.
i am ready for the high.
nothing works worse than the weekend fix.
i'm ready for the high life.
a kiss without a fist fight.
a bang without the dynamite.
i always think in extremes.
i should be pulling you close to me.
maybe generation x are the chosen ones.
they've got everything they need beneath their aching thumbs.
underneath the low there's a lower part.
no hotel guaranteed.
a professional learns from all their rookie moves.
there must be some method to the madness.
just one more smile and then i'll go.
this could be a holiday or an intersection where two roads fuse.
stop. i don't need to know.
fuck my sadness.
fuck our options.
fuck the life plan.
no more worry, i've killed it with both hands.
just give me something to light the fuse.
she was dreaming of her big break.
she constructed the right attitude.
the universe has got plans.
competition can dry you up.
people don't change people, time does.
we're all trying to get better.
we've all had quite enough of this pleasant displeasure.
i'd love to help you out.
i'd love to get us off this swing, this roundabout.
today i had a big idea.
there's no room for mistakes out here.
everybody wants to be the man.
everything i love is going to die.
keep your big mouth shut.
stop wasting my time.
icarus was my best friend.
i'm going to make him proud in the end.
there's no experimenting here.
no threesomes like we talked about when we were blacking out.
what a crazy pranged out year.
we spent most of it kissing teeth.
the moment starts to pass.
i start reverting back.
sell my spine to save my neck.
i'm starting to forget.
howl into the void again.
why don't you chop my tongue out and put my insides inside a jar.
you shake me up, you shake me down.
work's easy, but life's getting hard.
you don't speak for me.
could use some peer pressure.
you're so well put together.
tell me, sugar.
is there something i need to know?
pull the trigger.
pull me back from the edge.
pull me out of my head.
she is wildfire.
i could live in here forever.
let's find a drug to fix me.
guess i'm always blinded by the emperor's new clothes.
there's always something lurking down the rabbit hole.
in the back of your mind there's a crosshair.
don't wanna cause any trouble.
don't wanna poke the bear in the zoo.
drama becomes elastic then snaps back into place.
i saw your temperament running out the gate.
don't wanna stand in your way.
i'm pretty much worried about everything.
i worry that i'm worrying so much.
i worry too much.
multiples of three keep me warm, keep me stable.
superstition's a wasp at your picnic.
i'll say it again but without feeling.
i'll get what i think if i keep on thinking.
it's not paranoia if it's really there.
i'm not sure how much milk is enough milk.
bang my head against a wall.
i let the smallest of things ruin my day.
i'm the voicemail that you coulda shoulda checked sooner.
i'm the only obstruction in the way.
i don't wanna lose myself in someone else's game.
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magpiefngrl · 1 year
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How about 16, 17, and 18? 🤩
Hey, lovely! What great questions, thank you!
16. What is your most underrated fic?
I'm not sure how to define underrated here. For instance, I really love The Glass Hearts but it's not a drarry (or any ship) fic, so it's not surprising that it hasn't been read as much as other stories. It did have some awesome comments, though.
If we go with a simple gut feeling, that undefinable ache about a fic we love that we wish it'd been read more, then for me that's The Boy Who Died. It has had a bunch of readers and some comments, but I'd like to share my love for that fic with more people. It's the one fic that whenever it appears in my kudos email, I always smile.
17. What fic are you most proud of?
Although I did consider mentioning dirtynumbangelboy, I'll have to go with 9 ½ Days. It's my longest fic, for one; it's a fic I was very close to abandoning but I managed to finish, which gives me a sense of relief and even triumph when I think about it; and it's one where I poured my thoughts and feelings about Draco in his canon years.
Also, in most of my fics I try to add something that we might not see a lot in fandom (like the treatment of the Shrieking Shack in Through the Looking Glass and What Draco Found There or Draco as an Incubus in Hush, darling etc). In this case, I wrote about magical Romani, which isn't something I'd seen before in HP, and some scary faeries. Finally, I'm quite pleased with the prose, esp in some passages.
18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.
I've got a few in mind but let's go with the first kiss scene in 9 ½ Days. This is in Chapter 4. I won't copy the whole thing out, just parts. Under the cut:
Harry and Draco have spent a few days on the run now. They're starting to trust each and are getting closer emotionally but there's been no overt attraction between them. A great way to get them to think about sex (with each other) is to give them a reason to discuss sex in general, and Draco is the one who brings it up here.
‘You know what I‘m sorry about in this whole affair?’ Draco said, affecting nonchalance. ‘That I’ll die a fucking virgin.’
Harry’s mouth went dry. He hummed something indistinct.
Draco whispered, ‘Is sex as good as people say, Harry?’
‘How should I know?’ Harry asked, his hands sweating.
They talk about their experiences briefly. A paragraph follows that I quite like:
They hadn’t taken their eyes from the ceiling, as if this conversation didn’t involve them. Perhaps it was easier to talk about sex to the ceiling. Harry attempted to deal with this news as calmly as he could, even though his heart — and cock — swelled with the thrill of possibility. He’d had fantasies about Cedric and Bill Weasley in the past, but seeing as they were both straight, Harry’s fantasies had felt harmless; an idle exercise, a private unreality he liked to spend some time in. But now Harry had fantasized about someone who lay beside him and confessed to liking boys, too. Someone who Harry could reach out and touch, and who might — the idea made Harry’s blood simmer — welcome the touch.
Harry really should turn his back and go to sleep. Draco shifted and Harry caught Draco’s body heat very close to him, and his scent.
‘I’ve never kissed a boy,’ Harry told the ceiling.
I like the image of them side by side, looking at the ceiling, because this conversation is momentous for both of them but it's a bit too revealing and honest, and so it's easier to look somewhere else. To pretend that what you're saying doesn't matter much, exactly because it does matter. A lot.
Draco was the one who brought up sex earlier and then Harry is the one who comments that he's never kissed a boy. He gives Draco an opening. The subtext here is 'I want to kiss you but I can't bring myself to say it.'
I'm really pleased with the imagery in these two sentences:
Silence followed, but a pregnant silence, full of fluttering butterflies and words trapped in throats. A silence that held its breath, waiting to see where the conversation might lead.
Draco takes the opening and suggests what we all want to see. I have a soft spot for kissing or sex scenes where the characters give in to their attraction while holding back emotionally. The fuck buddies scenarios; the "this is a test kiss" like here, and so on. In those cases, although the scene is about relieving sexual tension, it still retains some tension and that is more interesting to me.
Draco gazed at him. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, drawing Harry’s eyes there. ‘I know you hate me,’ Draco said, his voice low, ‘but seeing as we’ll probably die soon, you could… test it. If you want. With — with me. Just so you’ll know.’
‘I don’t hate you,’ Harry said with conviction. There were worse monsters in the world than Draco Malfoy.
Draco kept staring, wordlessly asking for a reply.
‘Sure,’ Harry said, aiming at casual and failing. ‘Just so I’ll know.’
Both stalled, awkward now that kissing was on the table. Harry didn’t know if he should make the first move or whether Draco would. Tense like a diver about to jump off a cliff, Harry shuffled and brought his face closer to Draco’s, his heart in his throat.
Draco cleared his voice. ‘Let me…’ He rose to his elbow. Propped over Harry, Draco gazed at him with enigmatic eyes, cupped his cheek and kissed him.
Draco here echoes the phrase "let me" which Harry said earlier in the chapter when cleaning Draco's wounds. The rest is the description of the kiss, which is very soft and sweet, if I say so myself. I don't know what people think but I'm happy with the way their first kiss has come about in this fic.
Behind the Scenes Fic Writing Ask
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not-poignant · 10 months
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Recently I unexpectedly had two weeks of paid time off work. As something to do with this sudden free time, I decided to set myself a challenge; to write a short story, which is something I had never done before. I've always admired you for having such a talent with words, and I wanted to give it a try.
And Pia... IT WAS HARD! SO HARD! >.<
I wrote every day. I was sweating. I was pacing. I was groaning. I was laying face down on the couch. Just trying to MAKE. THE. WORDS. DO. THE. THING! You make it look so easy! xDD
I literally had several of your stories open as a cheat sheet, to figure out everything from “how does punctuation work” to “how in the world does he transition from internal monologue to conversation so naturally??”
But after two weeks of nearly full time writing, I finished my first 9358 word story.
Is it any good? Probably not. Am I going to do it again? Again, probably not xD
I'm proud that I finished it and as much as I was struggling, I enjoyed the challenge.
But the most impactful thing I took away from these two weeks, is a whole new level of appreciation for your work. Deep diving into your stories, trying to figure out how they work, it honestly blew my mind. YOU ARE SO GOOD! I've always adored your writing because it resonates with me so much and it never fails to take me on an emotional journey. But now I've had a glimpse of experiencing the craft behind it and all I can say is... You truly are one of the best authors out there.
So, thank you for sharing your incredible work with the world.
Omg anon, this message was so great to get.
Firstly, firstly- you're AMAZING!!! You are so good! You had a goal, you'd never done something like this before, and you finished a 10k story? That's basically a novella! Like, holy shit anon, that's incredible tenacity given you've never done it before! Even I wasn't busting out 10k stories when I first started writing.
This message made me so happy, but also frankly really just impressed as well. In some ways it's easy to kind of not see that I've been doing this for 10+ years, I've had a lot of practice, I write faster than I used to, and I didn't used to write this fast when I started out!
I bet your story is a lot better than you think it is. And tbh, maybe you'll find a way to enjoy the process more. :D I think it's awesome you wrote what you did, even if you never do it again *flails quietly*
But also I have this gif saved permanently on my computer and I think you'll very much relate to it even after two weeks:
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Also you can have this one too:
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And this one!!!!
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Actually you can bet I have a folder of a ton of writing gifs because it's a WHOLE mood:
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--
I think it's cool though that you gained an appreciation for the craft. Like anything, I think it's great when it looks like it's easy because frankly if you feel like you're slogging it through my writing and every sentence is a burden then I've done something wrong sdalkfjads
But it is something I care about and put a lot of time and thought into, and I'm just so impressed you tried it. That's cool, friend. You're cool.
Hobbies and new skills have to watch out when you're around, it seems like your determination is very Hulk!Smash level! :D :D :D
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silvershewolf247 · 10 months
Text
Custody Hearing (Rough Draft)
I've been working on this for the last week, haven't proofread it. This is part 1. It was getting long so I divided it.
Tiffany walked around the cabin with a look of overdramatized revulsion. 
“So… This is where you’ve been living,” she said with a high pitch through gritted teeth. 
“It’s not that bad, once you get used to it. My bedroom’s decorated differently,” Glen said, refusing to look directly at their mother for more than a second. Tiffany stopped in front of the deer skull above the fireplace. 
“I would hope so,” she said. 
“Ya like it! Took the stag's skin off myself,” it was Chucky, inside his skinsuit of Andy Barclay, holding a kitchen knife. He burst into the room and the conversation. 
“I imagine you did worse to it before that,” Tiffany responded with a smirk. 
“Nah that was all Glen, kid’s really coming into themself,” he responded. Tiffany’s smile immediately fell. 
“What do you mean by that?” she asked. Chucky walked closer, smirking.
“You know, getting into the family business, they haven't gotten to people yet, but nothing wrong with being a late bloomer," he said, punctuating the last statement with a shrug. 
"Chucky, we agreed that we weren't going to get them involved in this stuff," Tiffany
"Is that why you killed Meg Tilly in front of them?" He asked.
"I am an addict Chucky, all I ask for is a bit of empathy from my support system. But it seems like I don’t even have that,” she said. Chucky rolled his eyes. 
“Tiff, cut out the victim of addiction shit, I’m the one person who knows you too well for that crap,” Chucky responded. Tiffany took a deep breath. 
“This is why I left you, you are one of my demons,” she said. Chucky started laughing.
“And proud of it,” he said. Tiffany scowled as he walked over and hooked an arm around his child. 
“Maybe I’ll worm my way into this little killer's head too,” he said, then he chuckled again. Tiffany stared him down like a cat looking at a mocking bird through a window pane. He responded by rolling his eyes.
“Jeez Tiff, would it kill ya to lighten up a bit,” Chucky said, patting Glen on the back and walking toward Tiffany. 
“You stole my children from me, how do you expect me to treat this lightly?” Tiffany responded.
“You stole them from me for 18 years, I think me getting a bit of custody is more than fair,” Chucky said. 
“I didn’t steal them from you, I was protecting them from you,” Tiffany said. 
“Protecting them from what, knowing their father, having someone in their life be honest to them, having someone guide them in the family business,” he said, moving closer to her and grabbing her hands. 
“Tiff, you should see them, Glen and Glenda have so much promise as killers, and I don’t understand why you can’t see that,” he continued, he was moving closer to her. He held their hands up to her chest.  
“Chucky… We’ve been over this…" Tiffany started. Chucky pulled away.
"No, you've been over this. I never got a say in it. I never got a say in any of it!" He interrupted, his frustration growing with each sentence. 
"I can't talk to you when you're like this," Tiffany said, throwing her arms up in frustration. 
"Since when has me being angry stopped you from talking to me?" He asked. 
"I can't talk to you when you're in Andy's body, it's weird," Tiffany said. 
"Is it really any weirder than talking to the doll," Chucky said. 
"Yes, incredibly so… And I never minded the doll," Tiffany said, sounding almost saudade.
"No. No, you didn't," he said, the frustration in his voice now gone. 
"You always liked the doll," he said with a chuckle. Tiffany smiled. Chucky walked closer to her. 
"Sometimes I wondered if you liked it more than my human body," he said. 
"You are awfully cute in the doll," Tiffany said.  
"Cuter, is that the only reason you prefer the doll? You spent years trying to convince me to get a human body, now I’ve got two, and you haven’t seemed content with either" he said.
"I was fine with Nica," Tiffany said.
“Not with me though," Chucky said. Tiffany was silent. 
“Did you prefer me in the doll to my real body? Did it feel better being able to toss me around,” he closed the gap between them. 
“Chucky…”
“Is that why you got me killed,” he interrupted. Tiffany’s face went white. 
“Didn’t think I knew did ya,” he brought the knife up to her stomach. 
“How?” was all she could ask. 
“Let’s just say, the pieces of me keep in touch,” he said. He was smirking. 
“Chucky, please…” she started. The knife pierced through her jacket. She closed her eyes.
“You think I’m gonna gut ya, don’t ya Tiff,” he said. Tiffany nodded. Then she felt his hand on her face, cupping her cheek. She opened her eyes, the knife was back in his coat pocket. 
“Oh Tiff, I’m not gonna cut you open,” he said, he started laughing. Tiffany laughed in turn. At first it was nervous laughter, then it was relieved. His other hand came up to cup her face. Then the hands cupping her face moved down. He was cradling her neck. Then he started to squeeze, cutting off her laughter. 
“That would be too quick,” he said. Terror returned to her eyes. He leaned in closer.
“I want this to be slow… I want to feel this,” he finished. 
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breanutbutter · 5 months
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Left it all behind *Sam x OC*
*hey all! This is my first published fic so kindness is super appreciated that being said if you have any constructive suggestions those are more than welcomed! I’m hoping to make this a chaptered series so let me know how you like it! Please enjoy!*
Sam x OC
No triggers
2925 words
Summary: Sam and Liza are friends from college, Liza invites Sam to a graduation party and he stands her up. They lose connection and haven’t seen each other in 4 years. Liza doesn’t know why san fell off the face of the earth h but she’s happy to reconnect.
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Chapter 1:
*Flashback to 2005*
Liza’s pov
2005 was my year, I was finally finishing my bachelors degree in History after many hours of cramming for exams and forgetting to eat. it was finally all worth it. I poured my blood sweat and soul into this degree. I'm pretty damn proud of myself. I only have a few more months left to finish studying and I'll be free.
Student life has been exhausting. Whoever told me it would be the best years of my life are absolutely full of it.
As I'm in the library staring at the few words I scribbled out in my notebook for the essay I'm supposed to be writing, I see a familiar flash of messy chestnut hair rush past me. I set my pen down and rotate my body to get a better view of the guy with the hair of course it’s Sam. Sam and I weren't very close to say the least we didn’t know each other very well at all we had a few mutual friends at school that caused us to cross paths pretty often. We met in the fall 4 years ago. My friends knew Sam's friends. He's been at most events I attend so he's comforted me in a weird i-don’t-know-you way. I've always been good at reading people, from strangers to friends I had a bad feeling about. Sam tries to act polished and put together but I can tell there's something in his life causing him to hide his true self. He’s always a storm of chaos flying through the halls in a rush darting from side to side. He’s always in a wrinkled collared shirt strung over his body, never tucked in his pants neatly like our peers. I just know there's something in him he’s ashamed of. “Hey Sam!” I shout down the library aisle at the lanky boy that's scurrying off somewhere probably late for something important. He turned his body to face me stopping dead in his tracks, there was a smear of sweat over his forehead causing him to swipe his hand over it wiping it away. He looked like a mess of lost time and stress, his face twisted up in a look of confusion as to why i’m calling him over.
“Are you going to Ethan's graduation party in two weeks? ” I asked him to cross my legs over each other resting my cheek in the palm of my hand. He cocked an eyebrow up at me “i don’t think i was invited” he shrugged about to turn away seemingly to dart off for whatever reason. “That's okay you can be my plus one. See you then Sam "I smile as I wave him off. He offers me a curt nod and shy goofy grin. Ethan is our mutual friend, he's friends with Sam’s girlfriend Jessica. That's why I thought it was odd he wasn't invited or maybe he just didn't want to make small talk with me there. I finish my last couple of sentences before I pack it up and stuff my book in my backpack, the interaction still lingering on my brain.
*2 weeks after the initial interaction*
My brain shocks me back to reality as I remember the conversation I had with Sam two weeks prior. Twas the night of Ethan's big graduation party. Ethan explained that he likes to throw his party before graduation so we could finish studying and give us a bit of relief before the big exam comes up which is much appreciated. After letting my mind wander back to Sam for a short moment I realize it's already 5pm and the party starts at 7pm. After lots of deliberation I decide to hop in the shower to scrub the grime of the day off my body. I run myself a steamy shower and glide in letting the warmth engulf my cold body. I dip my head under the stream making sure my hair gets evenly coated with the hot water before I begin my normal shower routine. After my relaxing shower I wrap my favorite pink fluffy towel around my body tucking in the loose end under my armpit making my way back to my room. I let my damp towel fall to the floor as I picked out my outfit. I normally go for the safest option: a collared shirt and a modest pair of taupe pants but tonight I decided to go out with a bang. I flip through my abundance of modest attire and reach for my black strappy dress. It fits my body in all the right places. It accentuates my slim waist and allows enough cleavage to give a taste of what’s underneath the dress. I smile to myself and slip it on after my underwear and bra. I finish up my hair and makeup with just enough time to drive over to Ethan’s house. I greet my best friend who grew up in a similar family situation as me: wealthy and unable to be reckless. We grew up with each other and were as close as two peas in a pod. She’s the one I can rant to about my parents considering she understands how old wealthy parents are she gives great advice. Olivia was just finishing up talking to Ethan when she greeted me “hey girl right on time as always” she slapped me on the shoulder pointing at the overhead clock showing I was in fact not on time and I was almost 30 minutes late. I laugh and shove her back “hey it takes time to look this good!” I shout in her direction. After I shrug off my coat and shoes she pulls me into Ethan’s lush kitchen pausing to grab two shot glasses.
“We’re letting loose tonight” she says as she reaches for the vodka I audibly gag “fuck dude vodka tastes like rubbing alcohol” I hiss as she chuckles and pours out shots “don’t be a puss” she says. I bring the cold bitter liquid and suck it back feeling the burning sensation hit the back of my throat “I hate you” I say slamming down my glass causing an echo to ring through Ethan’s very large house.
After a couple more shots we end up mingling in the living room. I'm constantly checking my watch waiting for Sam’s arrival but he doesn’t show. After two hours goes by I look at the door and let a disappointed sigh pass through my lips. I don’t know why I care so much. I don't even know the guy yet I’m here anxiously waiting for his arrival. Another hour goes by so do a few more shots and by this time I’m living my best life and dancing to I wanna dance with somebody with Olivia and a few other drunk girls. I pause halfway through the song to glance at the door. Nothing. I nervously look around and pull my phone out of my purse, shooting a quick text his way ‘hey Sam! you coming tonight?’ I quickly send it and push my phone back to its confines of my purse. I easily forget about the whole Sam situation and eventually I’m wasted and it’s time to head home. Sam never texted me back; he stood me up. I shoved the thought out of my head as I stumbled through my door. He wasn’t even my friend, he probably had other plans.
I stripped out of my clothes and dove into my bed happy to head to bed after an exciting and excruciating night.
Present day 5 years later (2009)
I open my eyes as the sound of my alarm clock blares through the room. I squint as I roll over to check the time “shit” I mutter it’s already 8:15am I’m going to be late for work. I rub the sleep out of my eyes and jump up out of the warmth enclosing me. I leap into my closet and grab a white button up shirt with a small yellow daisy on the breast pocket, a black pencil skirt and my favorite black blazer. I quickly throw my outfit on my body and run to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I stare at myself in the mirror as I am cleaning my teeth, a mixture of toothpaste and saliva dripping down my chin. I'm unable to believe I’m late for work. little miss perfect is never late. I shake my head and spit the toothpaste into the sink. I’ve only been late once in my life: senior year of college that following Monday after Ethan’s graduation party. I was so stuck in my head as to why Sam never showed up. Rejection was my biggest enemy and I over thought every little thing even back then. I barely knew the guy yet I was so disappointed he turned me down for some reason. I shook the past out of my head and decided to focus on the now: getting to work as soon as possible. After slipping in some orthopedic flats I grabbed my coffee mug, purse and keys and raced out the door. I ended up late to work and was stuck in rush hour for nearly an hour.
I rushed into the museum huffing and puffing, setting my purse and coffee cup down at my desk. It wasn’t like I would get in trouble for my late arrival after all I was the head conservator . It was more of an internal issue I’ve dealt with for as long as I could remember.
“Hey Elizabeth what’s got you so out of breath?” My coworker Brent asked with a look of worry plastered on his face “I’m late” I said between breaths. He nodded and gave me a gently smile before turning on his heels,as soon as he was almost out of my office he turned back around “oh Elizabeth I almost forgot 2 Agents from the FBI have requested a meeting with our conservator and that would be you, they’ll be here in an hour” he smile and resumed his journey out of my office. “Thanks Brent!” I shout to him as he saunters away. I finally get a chance to sit down and enjoy my coffee over my many emails. What kind of business does the FBI have here at an art museum? I push the thoughts to the back of my head and let my breathing get back to normal. After about an hour I hear a knock on my office door “come in '' I shout. Brent pushes the door open with a small nudge and smiles politely at me “they’re here Elizabeth '' I nod my head and gather up my paperwork. “Show them the way to conference room 2 I’ll be there shortly, thanks Brent '' I give a swift nod before packing up my stuff to bring into the conference room, I’m unsure of what they’re looking for so it’s better to be prepared. I make my way to the conference space with my stack of paperwork and my laptop bag slung over my left shoulder. I give it a gentle nudge and it swings right open.
I step into the large room and set all my paperwork and laptop bag on the large conference table in the middle of the room before making any introductions. My back was turned to the two men as I prepared all of my information in a nice spread on the table. Once I finished laying everything neatly out I cleared my throat and turned around to face them. I firstly notice a man a little taller than me who gives me an almost forced smile and proceeds to introduce himself “ thank you for meeting us Miss Thayer i’m agent Hamil and this is Agent ford” the man says offering his hand to shake mine. I extend my hand into his and give him a firm handshake with a smile on my face. “It's a pleasure to meet you Agent, please call me Liza” I say gingerly before letting my eyes wander to the taller boy beside him. I only had a small glance at him previously while i was talking to agent Hamil so i didn't get a good view of him yet. As my eyes find his face I begin to wonder where I knew him from. He looked awfully familiar yet I couldn't place my finger on it. The taller boy snaps me out of my staring spell and extends his hand out to mine “nice to meet you miss” he says before taking a step back shuffling in his spot. As I hear his hoarse voice my mind is able to source whose voice it is: Sam Winchester’s. I am so beyond confused at this moment that my brain is running in overdrive. I swallow the saliva in my mouth harshly before offering them a seat. Sam looks the same as I last saw him yet different at the same time. He's taller and older yet there's something sadder in his eyes. He looks exhausted from life. He let his hair grow out, he could barely see over the mop of shaggy hair sitting on his head and now his hair is about chin length it suits him this way. I take a breath and turn my head to Sam nervously. What if he doesn’t remember me? Will he laugh at me or think im stupid? What if it isn’t even him? “Sam Winchester?” I blurt out my brain spitting those words out before I even have time to think if I want to ask him that question.
Sam gives me a confused look as if he’s unsure of how to respond. He doesn’t answer my question but explains why they are meeting with me. Sam talks for a few minutes about an artifact they are investigating before his partner, the shorter one from earlier interrupts him. “Where do you think you know him from?” he asks coldly pointing to his partner, it seemed like the question was still on his mind. I brush the strand of hair out of my face and look over at them. “I’m sorry for the abrupt question you look like someone i went to college with” i look down at my feet feeling the embarrassment ripple over my body and hit my face causing a sense of warmth to heat my cheeks up. His partner who I assumed was Sam pipes up “what college did you go to” he asks looking at me with a look of interest “stanford” i reply still looking at the hardwood floors. I look up and my eyes meet his, he has a look of remembrance on his face and grins widely “Liza Thayer? Whoa it's been awhile” his partner punches him in the arm and gives him a look of what-are-you-doing. I faintly hear agent hamil or whatever his name is angry whisper into sam’s ear “we’re working a case man stop flirting with the museum lady” they continued to silently argue before sam looked back at me from across the table “so how have you been?” he asked so casually and all i’m wondering is where he's been after he stood me up and dropped off of the face of the earth. “You know, living life. How have you been? How’s Jess?” I ask, the air seems to shift after i ask about Jessica Sam shuffles into his seat uncomfortably “uh Jessica passed away the night of the party” she speaks slowly and looks away “i’m so sorry” i say softly giving him an empathic look.
We stop talking about our personal lives after that and begin talking about artifacts, giving them the info they need. “Here’s a little more in depth information on the origin and other useful things about the tablet you are investigating” I say and hand them a few loose papers I scooped up off the table. They nod and thank me for the help “come around if you have any more questions” I smile as i stand up. “Thanks for the help” Sam says once more before they both exit my office.
After the long day I settle in my cozy pjs on my couch with a warm mug of tea between my hands trying to wrap my head around the day. I was late and I ran into Sam, what an unexpected day. I felt bad about Jessica, this whole time I was victimizing myself when it wasn’t even about me. Sam went through a whole loss that night and I was worried that he stood me up? Boo hoo. I just switched friends on the tv when I heard my phone ring. I saunter over to my home phone that's primarily for business calls. I pick up and hear Brent on the other line “someone broke into the museum” he said panic running evidently through his voice. “What?’” I ask not expecting to hear that at 8pm at night. Brent explains the whole situation to me about how an ancient tablet was stolen shortly after close and that i need to come down and access the scene. I nod into the phone as if he could see me “I'll be down as soon as possible. Thank you for letting me know Brent, "I say before hanging the phone up. What is up with today? I think to myself before rushing out of the house to investigate whatever the hell is going on.
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elshells · 1 year
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Writeblr Positivity Tag
Tagged by @mariahwritesstuff and @writernopal for this amazing tag! Their posts are here and here.
I'm going to leave this as an open tag because I'm very behind on these and want to avoid spamming people with tags. XD
Blank list of questions below the cut for convenient copy/pasting!
1. What motivates you to write?
I love telling stories! There's something so exhilarating and heartwarming about sharing my ideas with others and seeing how much they enjoy them. Plus, it isn't until I write something down that it feels real. When it's all thoughts in my head, it's like I'm keeping a secret, but once I start writing, I'm putting myself out there!
2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)
Ooh, it's actually so hard to choose a favorite (which I guess isn't a bad problem to have)! But here's a snippet I really like from chapter 9 of Agent Ace:
They were several stories in the air. Cars drove below as tiny specks on the street, contrasted by the towering buildings surrounding them on all sides. The sky was a burnt orange, casting light down on the city and setting the glass windows ablaze. Holding her breath, Sophia crawled out further, grabbing the edge of the window to pull herself out onto the tiny ledge suspended above the ground. She stood up tall and lifted her head to the sky as the sunlight warmed her skin, washing away the feeling of a cold, dingy cell. A heavy wind buffeted her face, tossing her ponytail behind her and causing her eyes to water. But she loved it. Being up this high, seeing the city sprawled out beneath her, gave her strength. She was graceful and weightless, like if she tried to jump, she'd fly. For the first time in a long time, she felt like Ace again.
3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?
Aww, I love them all so much for different reasons! But if I have to choose one, I think Jade is the one who truly makes me feel good. She's the kind of person I want to be (and am afraid will never be), and while I prefer to avoid writing characters based on real people I know, she still reminds me of a lot of my best friends, so it's just so hard for me not to love her!
4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?
I love getting lost in the story as I'm writing it. Whether it's a fight scene or a romantic scene or just a simple conversation between two characters, I love when I get pulled into the scene and I can visualize everything, from the emotions to all five of the senses.
5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)
Imagery! I'm a very visual person, so I tend to describe settings, characters, etc. in a lot of detail. It's something that I unfortunately hold back on sometimes because I'm afraid of getting carried away. I also love writing dialogue, which is weird because that was my bane when I first started writing. But over time, it's started to come more naturally, and I've figured out how to craft different voices.
6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?
The interactions! I haven't been on Tumblr that long, but I feel like I've already made some great connections through asks and tag games. Everyone is so genuine and supportive, we make each other and our works feel seen!
7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)
I write all of my stories in Google Docs (Garamond, my love!), and before I post a new chapter, I like to run it through Hemingway editor. It helps you know if you overuse adverbs (which I do haha) and how many sentences are written in the passive voice. It's a nice final step to polish the writing before I set the chapter loose into the world
8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)
I adore the city of Harmont in Agent Ace. When I first started writing the story, I used a real city as the setting, but as dove deeper into the realm of sci-fi and I started establishing the Watch and the Guard, I decided that a fictional city gave me more freedom, and allowed me to explore a world that was still similar to ours, with some extra details that made it so much more interesting. Of course, Harmont is still heavily influenced by my own surroundings, but the written lore runs deep, and to date, it's the second most ambitious setting I've ever created (the first is still in development)!
9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?
I'll preface this by saying that I'm far from qualified to give writing advice to anyone (even to myself), but I think the best thing you can do is to go easy on yourself. Even if you don't make a certain word count or even if you don't write at all, there are so many real-life factors that make it hard to write. Short attention spans, mental illness, exhaustion from work, self-doubt—I could go on. But there's no point in beating yourself up. If you can't summon even one word onto the page, walk away and let your mind wander. Listen to music, watch a funny video, stare off into space, anything as long as you're distracted. Then come back to your story. Even if you're not ready to go back to the computer, think about the scene you want to write. Visualize it if you can, or just imagine what you want to happen step by step. Once you figure out each beat you want to hit, you can go from there.
10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters
@bitchin-beskar is the one who convinced me to join Tumblr! She's the most supportive force in my life, and I love her to death!! If you're into Star Wars, Marvel, and Call of Duty, she's written some amazing fanfic (and some smut!) and I would highly recommend checking her out.
Also a massive thank you to @writernopal, @sam-glade and @captain-kraken! You all have given me, my characters and my stories so much love, support, and hype since I wound up here, through your wonderful asks and tag games, and I'm so grateful to have you in my bubble! Each of you are fantastic writers and I can't wait to get lost in the worlds you create!! 💕
1. What motivates you to write?
2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)
3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?
4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?
5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)
6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?
7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)
8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)
9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?
10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters
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dark-ink-drinker · 1 year
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I'm just staring this book, less than 100 pages in and I'm already wanting to start the review... and not in a good way.
I feel like all my reviews this year (all two prior to this one) are a collage of passive aggressive and back handed compliments... like here are all the reasons I hate this book, but no really it's great go read it. This might be something else like that...
I've read Sally Rooney's 'Conversations With Friends' and 'Normal People.' I am used to her slow and subtle style. There's no drama, or rather dramatic description. There can be plenty of twists and dramatic moments... but they're not treated as such. Whatever climax or rise in the stories, you might miss if you blink. Everyone seems calm even when they're having a nervous breakdown and their lives are falling apart. In the other two books, they started drab and a little boring to me but as it moved through I ended up enjoying it. Rooney is great at immersing the reader in the scenes and even when you feel the characters are a little dull, you get wrapped up in them and what will happen to them in the end.
Did she skip using quotes in in the first two books? I looked it up and apparently she didn't... so how come I only realized it now? Fifty pages in and my mind is skipping words and sentences... I'm wanting to skip pages. I can't immerse myself in the scene or the characters this time. The lack of quotes is suddenly driving me crazy...
Rooney writes characters that are beautifully flawed. Annoying, yes, but relatable in many ways. It's part of why I ended up liking the first two books. People aren't all good or all bad. Good people do bad things sometimes and bad people do good things sometimes. We all do things we're not necessarily proud of but it doesn't make us throw away people. I'm hoping these characters will find their way to that as well.
I'll check back in a little further in...
Ok, hours later here I am, book completed.
'Beautiful World, Where Are You' was about best friends, which seems to be a common theme for Sally Rooney. Eileen and Alice both seem to have some mental health issues though Alice is the one who was hospitalized. They struggle with self worth and self identity and love which is all very relatable though these two seem to take it to the extreme. They each have their Beau, Simon and Felix who have their own struggles.
At times, each relationship comes across a little toxic or at the very least unhealthy for all parties involved. Sometimes they're hurtful to each other on purpose, pulling closer and pushing away right up until the last 50 pages or so.
The story seemed to drag a little, leaving me not sure where it was supposed to end up. The last 150 pages or so was where it felt like it was moving, where my interest in the characters peeked... which I was expecting as the previous 2 books had similar forms.
The sudden mention of lockdown at the very end was a bit jarring and out of nowhere... but then again so was the lockdown.
I enjoyed the letters back and forth between Alice and Eileen. As someone whose best friend is often 100s of miles away and on a different schedule, I related to the way they kept up with one another through email. It gave a different aspect of their relationship and a little more insight into how they saw themselves as well. I might have liked a little more of that.
Going back to the quotes thing. I genuinely don't remember that from the other two books but it really bothered me in this one. It made it hard to follow coupled with the fact that not only are you missing what makes the dialog clear... but she often put whole conversations between two people in one paragraph which made distinguishing more difficult. Sometimes she broke it up so I'm not sure why she didn't do that all the time.
Anyway, I'll give it a solid 3 stars
⭐️⭐️⭐️
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theindependentfox · 10 months
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Labour in reverse
It's Wednesday.
6:30pm tonight will mark the end of day three in detox. I stare into the sun, feeling the cold pavers under the balls of my feet and seaweed between my toes. There's sand on my laptop - I don't care. Peppermint floats into my olfactory senses; I'm starting to get my smell back. My mind overflows with thoughts, but it's a little easier to organise them now, to focus on them. Birds chirp. I stare into the sun. I'm surrounded by surfboards, festoon lights and whitewashed furniture. There are flannelette sheets on my bed, blinds that block out the daylight, pillows that make me feel like a Queen. Family photos line the walls, flowers and fruit trees line the veranda. When I sit outside, all I can hear is the wind, the house creaking in the salty air, and the birds serenading one another.
It's like I've rediscovered the world.
I'm sad that I gave it up for so long.
I've tried to write. When I looked at my drafts today, I had scattered bits and pieces everywhere, not unlike how I felt as a person. My jittery finger's kept jumping all over the keyboard. I had to keep backspacing my mistakes and typing out the smallest thought took longer than I care to admit.
When a woman is in labour, her symptoms amplify as time goes on, until it finishes with the birth of a child. I tried to think of my experience detoxing as labour in reverse. Honestly, knowing that my current stage was worse than what was to come was the only thing that motivated me to stay calm and ride the waves.
I've had two and a half days of haziness, pain, binge eating and very low-energy thinking processes. I've lost parts of my vision, being unable to focus on anything in my sight. I felt like my eyes shook in their sockets and rolled around in the back of my head. My hearing wasn't much better. I would go deaf mid-conversation with someone. At first I thought it was because I didn't care but I soon realised my brain couldn't process what was happening. I shook and shuddered so often it was easier just to lie down. I couldn't think. My brain froze every time I tried. It literally stopped me mid-sentence. I've had a head fog the size of Uluru, crushing me further and further down into soft pillows. It throbbed when cravings came. My body twitched in ways I can only imagine looks foreign. It mostly felt like my head, and my mind kindly took moments to remind me of how Lord Voldemort twitched when he was frustrated. Awkward, involuntary, irked. My brain would freeze when it didn't know a word, then my mind reacted by being infuriated, then disappointed. Cravings came in waves of anger and sad, dark blue struggling. I couldn't cook. I had severe constipation and diarrhoea from the junk food I was binge eating but it was the only thing that held off cravings. I was so fatigued, I napped on and off the entire time.
How do you know that life sucks if everything feels good all the time? If you're escaping into a feel-good realm? You don't. That's where I got caught. When people asked me 'what do you do in your spare time?' or 'what do you do outside of work?' I couldn't give them an answer I was proud of. Because everyday, I would look up at the sky, say to myself 'thank god that's over', I would blaze up, binge eat, give my dog a half-hearted walk and expect him to nap with me when I knew he'd already napped all day. I was wasting his time as well as mine. I felt guilty every day.
I've been thinking more about the concept of "what happened to you?". I think it's starting to make more sense, that the way I acted is a choice I made in a hard situation. I wanted to feel good at a shitty time in my life. I chased the dopamine train. It will only define me if I let it.
I've been practicing having conversations with locals in town, starting off small and leaving the interaction when I need to. My brain keeps freezing but I'm getting better. They probably just think I'm a little off, a little weird. Which isn't totally untrue. My best interaction so far was this morning. I recognised when my brain switched off. I re-directed it. I haven't been able to do that until today. A turning point.
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bosstoaster · 1 year
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For the writing meme : 1, 14, 29, 57, 78 ? :D (you can elect to not answer all if it's too many !)
Machi, darling, I will answer everything you ask of me <3
1) Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?
Generally, get a couple of scenes and the ~ point ~ of the piece (usually a mood) and from there I come up with a justification, start answering issues, and outline it into a fic. From there, most of the imagining stuff is taken care of, but I'lll be driving or on a walk, have an idea, and rewrite the whole thing around it lol.
14. What is your favorite location and position to write in?
Sitting back in bed, with the dog asleep against my legs (or often already in bed), a soda next to me, with as little sound as possible.
This position, minus the dog until last year, is responsible for about 2 out of the 2.6 million words I have published lol
29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?
[Hiss] It BURNS.
One thing I genuinely work at is to make sure no characters are holding The Idiot Ball (aka this plot point only works because one character is acting like a moron). There's a difference between 'a mistake that makes sense for the character to make' and 'I am suddenly blind and brainless so this situation works'. I've gotten better at this as time goes on.
Also, I feel like I have a good handle on how deep into a character's perspective I get. I keep a middle ground for clarity's sake (the narration is in their voice and you occasionally directly hear their thoughts or se their memories, but otherwise the scene is still clear). But I do try to be smooth about sliding deeper into a character's POV (like, say, a flashback or a breakdown, something you really need to EXPERIENCE with the character) vs pulling out for a clearer view (fights, other than describing pain, pull far out so I can move to shorter, choppier sentences to keep up with the fast paced action).
(lol I complain then write two big paragraphs patting myself on the back)
57. How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?
This is a mix! Sometimes I plan this out and it's in the outline and I make sure it's there several times before it comes to pass, OR, I'll be writing and it turns out something has been accidentally set up and I just roll with it, lol. Mostly planning tho.
78. What motivates you during the writing process?
A GREAT piece of advice I read on Tumblr years ago was like 'if the scene is boring you, it'll probably bore the characters'. Like, if it's pure exposition to connect a scene and there's no other reason you're writing it and it's dragging for you, it'll come across that way to read. Not every paragraph needs to be High Throttle Excitement, but there should be something you like there. Add some characterization to the dialogue, some silly background fun, a snappy conversation. If all else fails, try to summarize if you can.
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morethanonepage · 2 years
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1, 4, 9, 19!
1. what's the fic youre most proud of?
i've talked about it a little bit ago when i was doing the "talk about your five favorite fics" meme but i think i'm torn between adrift (genuinely what i think of as my best writing); Washington Square (one of the VERY FEW longfics i've written, and i grown prouder of it w every awful fusion au i read); and The Ice Is Getting Thinner (bc pre-adrift it's what i would've called my best writing).
4. what fic of your own do you read for comfort?
i don't usually re-read my fic for comfort bc it usually makes me feel guilty and/or annoyed that i once wrote something but am not in the place to write anything else, but sometimes i am in the mood for something VERY specific i.e. that i wrote.
shhhh the second chapter of adrift and bits of the fire and the flood, both bc of the sex scenes shhhhh
9. what's your writing process like?
LOL, WELL.
usually what happens is, after many conversations w mutuals about potential fic ideas, most of which are disregarded after i write a paragraph or so, SOMETHING will randomly decide to stick. it's entirely unpredictable and no amount of trying makes it happen.
once i have like, an idea that's got a basic plot, a ~theme i can at least somewhat have in the back of my head, a ~vibe i can match w a sad song and/or sad quote, AND is precisely aligned w the amount of effort i am currently able to expend (i.e., when i have a GREAT IDEA [like the thrift store items john/chas thing] where i even know the basic structure of how the thing would go, it's utterly USELESS to me at the moment bc it would take more time and energy to develop than i currently have.)
but yeah once i have an idea + a structure + energy, i usually start banging things out in evernote (slowly. it's always very slowly). sometimes i start writing at 10:30pm, setting a timer for myself to at least write for 30 minutes, and then i always end up taking longer than 30 minutes.
(lately -- well not lately, i've stopped trying lately -- but previously when i was IN THE MOOD TO WRITE w/o any real direction toward any one thing, i would set the 30 minutes and then jump around between WIP files, writing a sentence here and a paragraph there, etc, etc. this is generally not a very productive technique but sometimes what'll happen is i'll skip to another fic and then suddenly feel like 'oh man i wanted to keep working on the one before' and then i'll know that's one i DO actually have enough inspiration to finish)
sometimes i just have LINES or MOMENTS that i'm really proud of but that are still stuck in WIP files and then i just get sad that no one else will get to read them (LOLLLLL) so sometimes that's inspiring to me too, but i guess not. lately.
19. If you could write an ideal fic, what would it include?
words would be nice.
lmfaoooo no but seriously at the moment i just wish i had the energy to write ANY fic much less an ideal fic. but i guess what i always want is to write fic that people READ and are genuinely interested in. i've read more novels lately than i have in a while so i've also had the pull of like -- wanting a real longfic w like plot and shit. which i'm so bad at!!! but i kind of just want a full, developed thing with a whole portrait of a relationship through the lense of not just the RELATIONSHIP but like. what's going on otherwise. how the plot AFFECTS the relationship and how the relationship AFFECTS the plot.
also w a good sex scene or two bc like. i know some discourse these days finds them gratuitous but i genuinely do enjoy writing them most of the time -- there's usually less dialogue and more emotions, and it's fun to try and show them w/o telling them bc i only write about emotionally repressed men, for the most part.
i also just want my fics to be the kind of fics people talk about on tumblr sometimes, with like, those really raw lines that get them and that they randomly think of. i don't think a lot of my writing is like that -- i'm very prosaic (some would say ~hemingwayesque~) and i guess what i really want to be good at is simple sentences that pack a punch.
which is hard!!!! which is maybe why i'm not writing right now, i want everything to be PERFECT and ART and you can't GO IN with that mindset, it has to happen naturally/through editing. but alas
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cannedbubbles · 2 years
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Hello there, and a happy New Year! I wanted to challenge myself this year, so... why not write something I've never wrote before? So yes, I challenged myself to write a fanfiction. There's obviously some room for improvement, but I'm really proud of it, in all it's quirky cringy glory.
It's a ZeLink College AU fanfic because, A. I absolutely adore this ship, and B. College AU was the feel for the day! You can read it on ao3 by clicking here Or you can read under the cut!
Coffee With a Side of Friendship
Words never came easy for Link.
Zelda knew this since they were kids. He was a quiet reserved guy, only spoke two or three words at a time when necessary. For group projects, he’d put in all the effort in making the presentation and refused to speak in front of large crowds. He was a master at sword fighting and fencing, however, because of his background. Her background.
Her long line of famous millionaire ancestors, and his long line of close bodyguard ancestors. Zelda knew, with a twinge of regret, that her family had shaped him into this boy since he was born. Forced to take care of her. She didn’t even think that he viewed her as a friend, it was hard to tell what Link thought about her. Even her feelings were complicated when it came to the silent boy.
Winter was coming, all the autumn leaves had already left the trees and chilly breezes aroused in the busy city of center Hyrule. It was going to snow soon, and Zelda was elated for her winter clothes to be used once again. For now, she and Link walked towards campus with some steaming cups of coffee and a nice brown plaid scarf around her neck.
“There’s going to be a holiday party at the mansion on Saturday,” Zelda starts up a conversation, hoping to get Link talking to her, “I hope you’ll be there to attend?” “I’ll be there as a guard in the background, nothing more.”
That was 11 words, a lot more than his usual three word sentences. Zelda was getting sick of the: “As you wish,” “Okay” and other words of confirmation. She glowed with a happy feeling, a feeling that sent butterflies through her insides. She frowned at herself, what had gotten into her?
“Oh well, I really need some company for boring family parties,” Zelda sighed in disappointment.
“My apologies,” though Zelda couldn’t see it, Link’s mouth twitched into a faint smile at her obvious dread, hiding it with a sip of coffee. He knew she hated family gatherings and stuffy parties without a proper friend to talk to.
“How are your studies going? I hope your finals are easy.”
“Studying is fairly simple, m'lady.”
“Remember to not push yourself, it’s not good to have an unhealthy obsession with straight A’s,” Zelda said this with a lighthearted tone, but they both knew that she was the one studying day and night to impress her parents. She had straight A+’s in every course she took. Link sighed, Zelda should take her own advice sometimes.
“Will it be alright if I want to stay with you during the party?” Zelda asked, it was barely a whisper, and to avoid the gaze Link gave her, she took a sip of coffee. Before Link could answer, she choked on the hot burning sensation after sipping too much coffee at once, and Link stopped to rub her back to make sure she was alright. She gave a thumbs up for the all clear and continued walking towards campus.
“Are you alright?”
“I promise, I’m fine,” Zelda still had a burning sensation in her throat, but she wasn’t going to tell Link that.
They elapsed into a silence, Zelda noting the fact he still hasn’t answered her question- but that was alright. She knew he took time to process questions that he needed to answer. But it still stung. She expected the worst, that Link would decline as politely as he could. That was the thing he’d do.
No more words were said as they made it onto campus. There was still 30 minutes until class, so they settled on a bench in an isolated part of the campus. Only a few students walked around, getting towards their destination.
Zelda was awash with a sudden feeling of misery as she realized how much she had been overlooking how much Link has been to her over the years. She knew loads about him, yet so little at the same time. Did he have a family? What foods did he like? The questions got her gears turning.
“I have a question for you,” Zelda asked in a hopeful tone. “May I ask it?”
Link tilted his head to the side to look at her better, and nodded silently.
“Can we just… take some time after classes today to get to know each other more? I- I want to get to know you more, and I know this is stupid because you’ve been my bodyguard since we were kids and I never really bothered to ask you about your life. So, why don’t we?”
Zelda rambled on about how they could just have some tea in their dorm or just curl up under blankets on the couch to just have a nice session to talk. Link was hanging onto her every word, wondering how she could look so happy over wanting to get to know a simple guy like him.
“I want us to become really really close friends,” Zelda took a second to glance at Link, giving him a shy smile that sent pink coloring the tips of his ears, “I know that’s a lot asking for after viewing you as a bodyguard- and you probably viewing me as your charge, not a friend for our whole lives… But… are you up for it?”
Link was silent for a few minutes, even though the answer was right on his tongue. He was intrigued at the fact that Zelda didn’t think he viewed her as a friend, but in reality he treasured the bond that he shared with the lady. Little butterflies were sent down his spine and he shivered, not because he was cold, but because he hit a realization.
“Link? Are you cold?” Zelda asked, worried. “You didn’t even layer up properly, winter is coming! Here, take my scarf…”
He just stared at her hands as she wrapped her warm autumn inspired scarf around his neck. He grabbed her wrists quite gently, but he still made her jump in surprise. His words were firm.
“You asked if I could stay with you for the party later this week,” His voice was hushed as usual, but oddly rushed and Zelda struggled for a minute with the new sudden tone Link was using, “and to be very honest with you, I would like nothing more. I want to spend more time with you, and my life’s boring but if you want to get to know me more, then I will gladly take you up on your offer.”
It took Zelda a minute to realize that not only did Link say yes to her request… he…
“May I please take you out to the party?” Link asked breathlessly, “As friends, if you’d like-”
“What about more then friends?” Zelda was equally flustered and her voice had also moved to a low hushed tone; as if she were scared raising her voice would ruin the mood. “We- we don’t have to make it official or anything it’s just-”
“Something you want to try?” Link’s eyes twinkled with kindness, a kindness that sent Zelda’s stomach twisting into knots. Her father’s stern voice whispered that this wouldn’t be a good idea, but Zelda was all up for trying something new.
“Yeah…” Zelda’s brows furrowed together in confusion. How did he know what she wanted to say?
“Thank Hylia,” Link let out a breath he was holding in, “Zelda you are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on, did you know that?”
Zelda flushed with the compliment, admiring Link’s new courage. “I guess tonight we’ll find more out about each other,” Zelda laughed shyly.
“I guess we will.”
Zelda checked the time on her phone, it was almost time for them to part ways until the end of their classes. Her cheeks were still tinted pink, she could blame it on the cold to her friends.
“I’ll see you later Link,” Zelda reached over and planted a small kiss on Link’s cheeks, and she smiled at his flustered face before standing up and walking away. “Zelda!” Link jogged up to her and had her face him, hands on her shoulders. “That was a lousy goodbye.”
“I- I’m sorry?” Zelda squeaked out, she was already flustered enough from her courage to kiss him on the cheeks, what did he want? “Goodbye then?”
He sighed and chuckled under his breath, his smile hitching Zelda’s breath once again. He leaned in, enough for Zelda to smell the coffee he had drunk this morning, and gently kissed her on the lips. If Zelda could talk she would’ve gasped and squeaked, but she accepted the kiss and surrendered herself to it. His kisses were addicting, but he pulled away as soon as he started, eyes half closed and a serene smile playing on his lips.
“I’ll see you later Zelda,” He turned and waved, walking away. Zelda couldn’t even bring herself to speak, she just exhaled and waved back numbly. She watched, amused, as she saw him do a little victory fist bump in the air, and touch her scarf he was still wearing.
Zelda exhaled, feeling all her pent up emotions finally being expressed and awakened. She walked the rest of the way to her class with a wistful smile on her face, and a giddy feeling in her chest. Thank you for reading, have a glorious day!
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bound-up-feelings · 3 years
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Adolfo Pirelli x fem reader
Broken
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Requested: Yes and No :/ @theonewithagayweirdo also helped me with this one as well, this is a prompt that they gave me  “I wish, just once, you would love me like this — no strings attached.” and I sort of changed in a bit
warning: Angst, Mentions of heartbreak, If those things trigger you, please don't read this :)
(Hey there so, this was quite the something to write and I hope I did ok and I hope you like it :))
Now even though Adolfo was every woman's dream, he wasn't as nice as they thought he was. He was actually quite the opposite. He was rude to his apprentice Tobias, and would slap him for little to no reason at all. Tobias had actually came to you, after having no where else to go. This was a regular occurrence.
You had known Pirelli for only a few years but, in all those years he was always so proud and full of himself. He was never really mindful of those around him. Didn't really seem to care for their feeling unless it involved him. In front of a crowd he is this amazing, wonderful and handsome man. But behind closed doors he was rude, sour, and quite rotten on the inside.
With the few years you got to know him he was always nice to you. He would sometimes come to you home to greet you in the mornings, and sometimes bringing a rose. Always one, never anymore than that. He was sweet to you, always complimented you on your appearance. Conversations were normal and actual delightful. But when it came to going into the middle of town or walking along the sidewalk, or even going into a store, he would act off. As if he didn't even know you.
One day in the afternoon he had came to your home like many times before and confessed his live for you. Shocked was and understatement. He, Adolfo Pirelli, The king of barbers and the barber of kings, confessing his love to you. This must've been a dream. It was too good to be true.
Like you had told yourself two years ago "Too good to be true." Was also an understatement. He would act loving, caring behind closed doors but when it came to the citizens of the town he acted as if you were merely another woman amongst the crowd. You had even confronted him of your suspicions "My dear, I do this to make all the woman believe I am a single man. To make more money-" and blah blah and so on and so forth. You had believed it at the time. God did you want to believe a man such as him could be capable of loving one woman and one woman alone.
Sadly after two years of hidden suspicion, it finally was confirmed. One night you had decided to go out for a walk. Something back in the corner of your mind told you that you should. You didn't understand why but you did it anyways. You hadn't been walking for long, until you just so happen to glance down a random ally between two homes. There against the wall you saw two people. Both kissing. The sounds are what confirmed that, but it was the blue tailored pants that also caught your eye. No one else in town had pants such as those. No one had pants that fit them so well like that. No one except for Pirelli.
Your gasp had pulled them away from each other. The woman whom you had never seen before had a grin on her face and was still looking up at him. While his face slightly lighten up by the near street lamp had turned his full attention towards you. He opened his mouth to say something but no words had come out. He had no explanation for this, he had nothing that could possibly make this seem less than what it really was. At the very moment all you wanted do was run. Run down the pavement till you got home, so you could shut and lock your door. And that is what you did. You ran, and ran and ran till you got home.
When you got inside you locked the door. You back was against it as you stood there. Silence was deafening and you wanted the world to open up and swallow you. Take you away from this very moment, so you could forget what you had seen, forget the feeling of your heart breaking in your chest. The feeling of all the love you had for him go straight into the fire, forever gone. You walked a little way into your home, the floor boards creaking under the weight of your foot. You looked up and there, right in front of your face was a photo. A photo of one of your dear family members. It was of their family. All smiles and happy, hugging each other like that day could get any better for them. You were jealous. You wanted that, wanted that with Pirelli. You wanted a happy family, but all of thought of Pirelli were trashed.
Suddenly you hear a knock on your door. It hadn't occurred to you that Pirelli had probably followed you home. When you looked at the door you could see the shadow of feet at the bottom of your door. You didn't answer, you knew it was him. More knocks came and this time you heard his voice. "Y/n! Y/n are you in there? Please let me in, I can explain myself. Give me a chance!" He says as he frantically knock on your door. Though the knocking was annoying it was that last sentence. "Give me a chance." Give him a chance.....you had given him plenty of chances to love you, three years of crushing over him and what you had thought was a nice relationship between the two of you wasn't chance enough!? You barge over to the door and swing it open. Anger taking you over. "I don't want your explanation. I don't want your sorry. I don't want you around me anymore. I thought what we had was something good, something that was nice, but you proved to me that you don't give a damn about that! About how I feel towards you, I've never felt so strongly about someone until I met you, now all I feel so much anger and pain..." he shakes his head and bows his head down "I thought what we had was a no strings attached relationship. Something both neither of us would put much into. It was only recently that I began to have feeling for you, but I was scared y/n. I was so scared." He says as he starts to grab your hand. Not wanting anything to do with him or his touch you yanked your hand back. "For years, I wished for a family. I wished for a man to come sweep me off my feet and love me endlessly. I thought I found that with you. But even when this started you seemed like you were ashamed to be near me. I even tricked myself into thinking you loved me too. I wish you did. I wish, just once, you would love me like this-" you say as you point furiously at the photo on the wall. Tears begin to fall down your cheeks. Your eyes red and puffy already, you shake your head and breath shakily " 'No strings attached', I really thought you were the one. I even told my family about you!? How stupid is that, so God damn pathetic!" You say yelling the last part out. He flinched at your outburst. He knew that what he said was wrong, he knew he had fucked up. He could see in your eyes, the look on your face, the way you shook from the anger you felt towards him, that nothing could change how you for him now. You hated him, hated how he made you feel for him. And all you wanted was him gone. Out of your life, your home and far away from you. "I-" "Get out." he looks at you , hoping that you would let him stay and do something that could everything better "Y/n please." "I said, Get OUT! Right now! I don't want you here! GO!" you scream at him. he looks down yet again, he turns on his feet and opens the door and steps out onto your doorstep. He looks back at you, wanting to say something but keeps his mouth shut. Then he walks away. Walking underneath the street lamps and in his own guilt. That day all feeling for him turned to anger. Anger that would take decades to go away. You never wanted to talk to him again. Didn't even want to see his face either. You were simply and utterly, Broken.
(Hey again, so I hope you liked this and if so please leave feedback it helps a lot and I appreciate every bit of it! Have an amazing day and stay strong!)
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