#But I hate these cliches with a burning passion if you like them it's fine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeypirate · 4 years ago

Note

AAAayYy Congrats on the 420 Follower Honey! I'm not surprised by the amount at all since how kick ass your writings are! I hope I did this right, but can I request Viktor with Indica/Sativa- 6, Joints- 8, and Pack the Bowl- 5? If I didn't do this right then, please tell me so I can fix it I don't have the best reading comprehension right now ;v; Once again though Congrats on your follower milestone!

Thanks for your request I hope you like it!

Viktor x reader/ theme park / established relationship / disaster date with good ending

Summary- Early stages of the relationship where Viktor doesn’t tell reader he’s scared of heights and gets sick easy on rides but goes anyway determined to make it a good day for reader.

Event Masterlist

Two month anniversaries were not a thing. You know this and you know how cliche and stupid they are since you haven’t even been dating for that long. But you still wanted to plan a date even if it wasn’t a real anniversary, you still loved being with him these last two months.

“A-an amusement park?!” He asks with a strange chuckle and you raise your eyebrows

“yeah I love them and I thought it would be fun to go with you. But I mean it’s okay if you don’t like them” you shrug but he panics, he doesn’t want to make you sad or have you not be able to do something you love to do

“No I totally love theme parks! We’re definitely going!” He says and hopes you buy his excitement and don’t see through his anxiety.

You hug him close and kiss his cheek, trusting him when he says he loves them. “we’re going to have so much fun!!”

Fun. You had promised fun. But here he is closing his eyes, his organs trembling as the car rises to the top of the track. You’re giggling in your seat excited to get to the top unaware of his stress because of the shoulder and lap restraints that were keeping you safe and keeping you just out of reach and unable to see his face.

He is almost positive that this machine is going to kill him. He has to close his eyes to prevent himself from calculating the likelihood that you’d both die today.

You’re laughing when it spins and loops but Viktor is holding his breath hoping he doesn’t pass out or throw up that would ruin this day for you. He wanted you to have fun most of all. He’d never let anything ruin this day for you. Your loud screams drowning out the fact that he was deathly quiet.

He tried. He really tries his hardest but after the third ride you stumble off in giggles and he runs to the nearest bathroom, green faced with an upset stomach from the loops.

“Are you okay?” You yell outside of the bathroom and he heaves, making your heart drop into your stomach. You wanted to have a nice day but instead you made him sick. He should have told you he didn’t feel well.

“I’m fine!” He yells back, voice breaking and throat sounding raw. You hear a flush and sniffing before water turns on.

“Hey” you say softly and frown, worry in your eyes at his pale and sweaty face.

“Hey” he says with an embarrassed laugh and he looks away

“Viktor?” You ask and he hums, looking shyly into your eyes with an expression like he’s in trouble.

“Do you hate theme parks?” You ask and his face flushes in embarrassment as he looks away and says nothing

You throw your arms around his middle and bury your burning embarrassed face into his chest “you should have told me!” You cry and he hugs you close with a small laugh

“I just wanted you to do something you enjoy. I wanted you to have a good day” he admits softly and you pull back, looking up at him with sincere eyes

“I enjoy everything I get to do with you.” You say and then cup his cheeks with a little smile and say “A date is automatically not a good day if you aren’t having fun with me” he smiles softly, butterflies in his tummy and he holds you to his chest again with a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I just didn’t want to ruin your day” he says and then grimaces when a food cart rolls by

“You could never ruin my day!” you say “any day that I spend with you is a success no matter what we do” you gently pull his face down and he leans toward you. You kiss his forehead and then take his hand

“come on” you say with a small smile “today will not end in disaster”

You go home first, so Viktor can brush his teeth and not have to stay with that feeling in his mouth, then after dinner, you take Viktor somewhere you know he will love.

The Academy of Natural Sciences, the museum he took you to on your first date.

He laughs and squeezes your hand as you hurry up the stairs “y/n you’re a genius. I love you” you feel your heart skip and breath hitch as you’re taking stairs two at a time, forty minutes until they close, you’re not even sure if he realizes he told you that.

Although he’s been here a few times he always loves it, loves to see the displays and see the pre-cataclysm fossils and the interactive sets.

You love to watch how excited he gets, prefer him telling you all about the things instead of pressing the buttons, hanging on to his every word.

“And that’s the reason why the..” he looks at you and then gets shy which how you’re looking at him. Eyes soft and sparkling as you gaze up at him, looking at him and not the display “w-what?” He asks and rubs at his nose, thinking he had a booger or something.

“I love you too” you say softly and watch as his cheeks flush immediately. He looks at you for a moment before a grin slowly spread across his face.

“Good” he says softly and presses his lips to yours.

Before you know it the museum is closing and you have to leave.

Instead of heading back to the cathedral, you walk around the city, watching the sunset and talking about the new displays at the museum that weren’t there two months ago.

He sits on a bench when you end up in the park, watching the families that are enjoying the sunset and the warm spring evening, and pulls you down beside him, making you chuckle. Holy Sol how he loves your laugh.

Viktor feels peace in his heart as you lean into him, his arm wraps around you and kisses the top of your head, sending butterflies to your belly and tingles throughout your body.

“So, disaster date averted?” You ask with a small smile as you meet his eye, your cheek against this shoulder.

He chuckles and gives you a small peck “yes, disaster date averted”

you smile and he sighs happily before pressing his lips to yours again, murmuring how much he loves you against your lips.

“One more thing, before this date is over” he says as you walk through the cathedral hallway to his bedroom.

He stops outside his door and places a small black flash drive with hearts on it doodled in a silver marker against your palm

“What’s this?” You ask and he looks shy as his cheeks flush

“It’s a .. a song” he says and you beam up at him

“Really?” You ask, stars in your eyes as you smile up at him, amazed and feeling so special that he made you a song

He nods shyly with a little nervous laugh and you hug him tight “thank you” you whisper into his neck.

You’ve heard some of his EDM before and listened to him talk about it with extreme passion, but he still was shy about it.

It was his hobby and you respected that him about it. You told him that you loved it and that you were proud of him, but let him choose for himself whenever he wanted you to hear it.

You press your lips to his, humming when he licks your bottom lip and you let him deepen the kiss, every feeling of love on his tongue as your hands move to his neck, one a gentle fist holding the flash drive.

You pull back and give him a giddy smile “come on, let’s go listen to it!” You say and enter his room, he nods with a happy laugh and closes his bedroom door behind him.

#viktor licht fanfiction #viktor licht imagine #viktor licht x y/n #viktor licht x you #viktor licht x reader #viktor x reader #fire force imagines #fire force fluff #fire force fanfiction #viktor licht fluff #fire force x y/n #en en no shobotai

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jamaiskookie · 4 years ago

Text

Yoongi Doesn’t Romance [myg x reader]

✂︎ warnings: excessive cursing, bad writing

✂︎ word count: 6.6k (I meant to write a very short drabble… aHAHHA)

✂︎ genre: it’s.. literally just crack. Good dosing of cheesy romance and overused cliches

✂︎ A/N: it took awhile but we here!!! with a short drabble but still!!! hope you enjoy this cringey fluffy fic full of shameless jimin and shy yoongi- arguably the best yoongi

masterlist asks

✂︎ synopsis: yoongi isn’t great at expressing feelings- especially with how nervous he gets around you. alternatively titled: yoongi sucks at romance

“... and I don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on denying it! You obviously have a crush on him!” You roll your eyes at Namjoon, flicking your index finger at his forehead and watching as he flinches and lets out multiple sounds of pain, which you promptly ignored.

“I’m denying my crush because he so obviously doesn’t like me back! He hates me, Joon. He literally detests me.” You say, jumping back onto the stained and cluttered couch that occupies most of you and Namjoon’s shared dorm.

“And I’m telling you that you’re overthinking it,” Namjoon says, chewing on some popcorn. “I don’t think he hates you, you’re just exaggerating things.”

“I am not!” You protest, swinging your head around to look Namjoon dead straight in the eyes. “He hates me! He practically leaps out of the room whenever I’m around.” Namjoon opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by Taehyung, who is currently seated two feet away on a small thrifted chair.

“Shhhhhhhh-” His eyes are still fixated on the TV screen, watching the random nature documentary playing that you and Namjoon had long ago abandoned. You and Namjoon both watch Taehyung for a second amusedly as he attempts to stuff popcorn kernels in his mouth and completely misses the mark. You’ll have to remind him to clean up the floor later.

“But,” Namjoon whispers to you, “Literally every time you aren’t around I swear all he can do is run his mouth on and on about you.”

“Not true!” You yell, squeaking out a quick apology to Tae, who glared at you for interrupting the segment on apes. Something about how apes can learn languages, but you’re not too sure. “Lies!” You hiss, elbowing Namjoon in the rib.

“Ow-!” He jumps back, wincing. “Why do you always resort to violence?” You didn’t have an answer to that question, unfortunately. “And I’m not lying! I swear on my bonsai trees he always asks where you are whenever you don’t show up to stuff.”

“Maybe he just wants to know how much glorious time he has left before he has to face me again.” You offer, tearing open what must be your third dorito family pack of the night. (It’s fine, you’ll burn it off by running to class tomorrow when you’re inevitably late once again.) “Namjoon, face the facts: he only tolerates my presence occasionally because we share a couple of mutual friends. If it weren’t for you and the other guys, he would’ve already started a hate club for me, I’m sure of it”

Namjoon stared at you exasperatedly, before muttering something that very suspiciously sounded like ‘God you’re such a dumbass’ before taking out his phone to swipe through Tinder, not uttering another word to you.

Despite Namjoon’s utter and complete lies, you don’t exaggerate anything when it comes to Min Yoongi. Not his hatred towards you, or how he speaks two words maximum every year directed at you, or your massive slight crush that you’ve harboured for him, or how cute he looks with beanies on, or how you almost fainted that one time you saw him playing basketball, or- well, you get it.

The point is, you can’t acknowledge your crush on Yoongi (Even though everyone around you is fully aware of it) because he seems to completely resent you and your existence for no reason in particular. Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin, and many others insist that he doesn’t hate you as much as you think, but you dismiss their stupid assumptions time and time again. You’d love to believe them, but the evidence and first hand experiences you’ve had says otherwise.

✂︎

Exhibit A: He seems to avoid you on campus, or anywhere you go. This one is actually quite impressive considering the classes you two share. You’ve never seen someone go so out of their way to ignore someone they don’t like. It’s pretty commemorable. Whenever you sit in the same row as him during a lecture, he’ll move seats. One time you waved at him at a coffee shop and he just strangely blushed, and bolted out of there faster than you could say ‘rejected’. Taehyung ended up saying it, all while laughing his ass off. (You made him pay for your coffee that day.) Everytime you head over to Jimin’s dorm, he’ll just blankly stare at you two and march straight towards his room and lock himself in there until you leave. He even gulpes and swerves away when he sees you in a hallway.

You know, that awkward thing when you’re heading the same direction so obviously you’d try and be slightly friendly and wave or something but then he’ll just suddenly turn around, navigating through the crowd of angry, late students and facing all that social pressure just so he doesn’t have to waVE BACK AT YOU- okay, maybe you aren’t as over this incident as you thought.

Exhibit B: He won’t speak to you or touch you or interact with you in any way. Okay, maybe ‘in any way’ is a teensy bit exaggerated, but he definitely seems to find trouble when you two are left alone for some strange reason. He seems to be fine when all your other friends are around, but he just looks so uncomfortable when it’s just you two. He won’t look you in the eye, and he’ll just mutter incomprehensible sentences under his breath.

A couple months ago you attempted to hold a decent conversation with him in the kitchen of Jin’s fancy ass apartment. After many awkward silences that you had to fill up with your timid and boring small talk, he just mumbled something and you had to watch him go into the bathroom and scream. Either he was having some really bad explosive diarrhea, or having to talk to you was just that excruciating. Apart from intense Uno game nights or when he’s under the influence of alcohol, you’ve never even heard Yoongi raise his voice!

How is it possible that just by talking to you, he feels the urge to scream? You aren’t that boring, you think-! Actually, now that you think about it, you did try and bring up sea otter fun facts as a conversation starter, so maybe that’s why he had to scream.

Personally, you think that sea otters are the most adorable creatures to ever grace the earth, but Yoongi does seem like the kind of guy to prefer bats or something like that.

Exhibit C: The elbow incident. This haunts you to this day, not just from the horrible humiliation, but if the two previous exhibit’s weren’t convincing enough, this was real cemented evidence that Min Yoongi hates your guts.

You were talking to Jimin about the significance of ‘Phineas and Ferb’ in the cinematic industry, when your dumbass had tripped and caught yourself on Min Yoongi’s fucking arm (His bicep, on a completely unrelated note, was much bigger and stronger than you had thought, which was a complete other source of anxiety.) You would much rather fall on the ground and break all your bones, because the look on Yoongi’s face as he stared down at you clutching his arm like some sort of idiot, could only be described as disgust or horrified. Maybe both. You immediately let go, of course, and blabbered out apology after apology, but all he did was just stare and blink owlishly at you.

You proceeded to blush madly and run away, hiding your face in Jimin’s chest, which was, in hindsight, not a good idea, considering how hard he was laughing at the time. (What you didn’t see was Yoongi staring from behind you, deciding to never wash the hoodie he was wearing ever again.)

So, that concludes your argument against Namjoon’s preposterous claim that ‘Yoongi doesn’t actually hate you Y/n, it’s all in your head’ Delusional, that’s what he is. How could someone like Min Yoongi, a person you have literally been drooling over for most of your academic career, a person who single handedly has every sorority girl wrapped around his finger, even tolerate your very existence, much less be attracted to you? No, none of it makes any sense. You’ll continue to hurt yourself by being around him, despite clearly knowing that he detests your presence, and will even deny the crush you’ve somehow managed to build up for him.

Because even though it hurts to see him flinch and ignore you, you truly do think that Yoongi is one of the greatest people to ever walk on this shitty earth. He’s caring, even if he does pretend to not care, he’s smart, passionate, ambitious, and you’d be absolutely lying if you said you haven’t dreamed of pinching those squishy cheeks he seems to hide away so often.

If only you knew why he hated you so much.

✂︎

All the way across campus, Yoongi was having a similar breakdown while Jimin looked on anxiously.

“God fucking dammit!” He screamed. The sound comes out slightly muffled since Jimin can only hear what he’s saying through the pillow that Yoongi currently has his face buried in. He kicks his legs up and whines, hitting the bed with his hands. Jimin is suddenly reminded of his 4 year old cousin who threw a tantrum when she didn’t get the doll she asked for.

“And then you know what I said, Chim?? Do you kNOW?” Yoongi’s been screaming for the past thirty minutes or so. Jimin’s surprised that nobody on campus has come pounding on their door telling them to shut up yet.

“Please, do enlighten me.” Jimin murmurs, picking at his nails.

“I said ‘Salutations’ AND THEN I RAN OUT THE FUCKING CLASSROOM.” Yoongi tilts his head up from the pillow and groans, scrunching his nose up at the embarrassing thought.

“At least it’s not as bad as the time you screamed in the middle of the street when she touched your shoulder… right?” Jimin offers timidly, forcing a smile on his face. An angry, sleep deprived Yoongi is already scary enough, but he’s ten times more intense when the source of anger comes from you.

Honestly, sometimes he wonders how effective it would be if he could just lock Yoongi and you in a room and force you two to admit your feelings for once. (Until he mentioned this idea to Namjoon, who dejectedly informed him that they’ve already tried that.) ((Yoongi broke out of the room using a bobby pin and sheer force of will)) He’s never even seen a pair so smart, and yet so obliviously naive. Anyone with functioning two eyes could see the horribly obvious feelings the both of you shared for each other. In fact, for the first couple months upon meeting Yoongi, he thought that you were his girlfriend, based on how much he talked about you. That assumption carried on when he met you, until Jin told him that the two of you were just in a weird phase of dumbasses who kinda flirt.

It’s not Yoongi’s fault that he’s so bad at having actual emotions that aren’t the tears of joy that he sheds whenever he gets free coffee from the barista at the local cafe, and it’s not your fault that your self esteem is too low to recognise that Yoongi basically worships you.

In theory, you two are a match made in heaven. Both just as stupid as the other.

“How do you do feelings, Jimin?” Yoongi sits up from the bed, and Jimin thinks that the tear tracks and defeated look on his face is a tad bit dramatic, but he chooses not to comment on it, for fear of his own life.

“... what?”

“You know, feelings. How do you romance?”

“... what?”

Yoongi, completely exasperated, throws his hands up in the air and turns around to face Jimin. “Everytime I try to talk to her by myself it’s like I’m a fish out of water. I get way too nervous, and then she starts talking about otters, and she’s way too pretty so I obviously start freaking out! I don’t know, you and Jungkook have been dating for a year now, right?” Jimin nods.

“How’d you do that.”

“... Are you asking me how I got a boyfriend or-? Because I assure you that 85% of getting Kookie to be my boyfriend had to do with my great ass, so I can’t really help you out there- ” Jimin laughs as he watches Yoongi squeal and cover his hands over his ears.

“Can I ask you for relationship advice without hearing about your sex life, please?” Yoongi pleads. “I know too many unnecessary things about how Jungkook is in bed.”

Jimin decides to put his friend out of his misery. He places a hand on his shoulder, and shoots him a soft smile.

“Yoongi, my young grasshopper- ” He retracts the hand when he sees the deathly stare Yoongi is looking at him with, but so far so good, “- there really isn’t much to it. Tell her you like her, and in the very, very, extremely small chance that she rejects you, so what? It’s not like you’re going to spend the rest of your life getting ov- ” Jimin’s voice falters again when Yoongi’s stare intensifies.

“You don’t get it!” He complains, throwing himself back onto the bed once again. “You’re all good at this sort of stuff!” Jimin tilts his head in confusion. “You know, relationships! Talking to people! And I’m pretty sure Y/n is the love of my life, so I’m literally going to break down if she rejects me! I’m going to cry for days, I already know it!” Yoongi stares up at the ceiling, pouting at nothing in particular.

“She’s so perfect, smart, nice, caring, funny, strong and incredible. It hurts that she’s never going to like me the way I like her.”

“You know, Yoongi, if you never talk to her, she’s never going to know you feel that way.”

He sighs and closes his eyes, while it takes all of Jimin’s strength to restrain himself from not throwing Yoongi out of the window.

Once he’s absolutely sure that Yoongi is fully asleep, he pinches the bridge of his nose and rolls his eyes. After a few quick taps, he brings his phone up to his ear.

“Guys, I can’t deal with him anymore. We have to do something.”

✂︎

“I would like to, once again, reiterate that I am 100% against this idea.”

“Shut up, Namjoon.” Namjoon grumbles something about being unappreciated, but continues to speak up.

“It’s a bad idea, Chim. Logically, there’s only a small chance this will work out in our favour, and if it doesn't, I’m at least certain that Yoongi will dislocate all of our limbs until we’re a pile of human flesh.”

Jimin dismisses the thought. “Yoongi would never do that to us.”

“Of course he would,” Taehyung piped up. “Do you remember the time he dyed my bright pink because I made fun of Y/n for her stupid heart patterned boots and she cried?” 10 pairs of eyes slowly looked up at Taehyung.

“Well, that’s justified, we all want to murder you.” Taehyung gasps at Jin, who smiles back at him in return.

“And also, you were being a huge asshole that day and you totally deserved it. The pink hair didn’t even look that bad.” Tae smiles proudly at Jimin.

“That’s true, I fucking slayed with that pink hair. I kinda miss it, actually… ” He hums thoughtfully, scratching his chin. Jimin looks away and scoffs. Taehyung’s one of his oldest friends, but sometimes he gets a little too art-kid-college-dropout-hipster for him to handle.

“Do you guys think I should dye my hair pink again?” Nobody answers his question.

“Tae might be an absolute douchebag, but he has a point. We all know how protective Yoongi is over Y/n. Are you willing to potentially risk your life if this doesn’t work out?” Curse Namjoon for being logical. Maybe Yoongi killing him is a bit of a stretch, but he would make Jimin’s life a living hell if this operation ended up a failure.

Nevertheless, he continues to insist. “Okay, what’s the worst that could happen? I physically can’t stand Yoongi stomping around the dorm because he’s emotionally incapable of working out his feelings anymore! Yesterday he fell asleep in my bed. My bed, Namjoon. For such a tiny man, he’s really fucking heavy, I couldn’t move him and had to crash on the couch for the night. If this doesn’t end up working, Yoongi will just go back home and mope around all day long. Nothing different from what he’s doing now.”

“Um, what’s the worst that could happen?“ Namjoon asks incredulously. “How about if Yoongi finds out we tricked him, invites us to a murder mystery party, but then decides to kill us instead, and covers it up by burying our cold hard, deAD bodies in a highly unhygienic GRAVEYARD? What will you do if that happens, Jimin?“

“..........“

Nobody says anything to Namjoon, and the boys turn to Jimin once again. Shaking his head, and attempting to ignore... whatever the hell Namjoon just did, Jimin speaks.

“Oh come on guys!” He shakes his shoulders and lightly taps his foot against the ground. “Aren’t you guys tired of dealing with these two dumbasses too?” A murmur of agreement seems to go around the group, and Jimin breaks into a huge smile.

“Well, gee,“ Namjoon mumbles sarcastically. “Why don’t you just make a Namjoon Facebook hate group?“ Taehyung shushes him.

Beside him, Jin and Jungkook are exchanging money, clearly for some kind of bet. What the bet entails, Jimin has no idea, but he doesn’t have the time to question them right now.

“So, we’re in?” Everyone slowly begins to nod, all except Namjoon. Jimin beams, looking up expectantly at him. Namjoon bites his lip, and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Fine.” He grumbles out, not acknowledging Jimin’s shouts of joy. “If this goes wrong though, you bitches better be fucking responsible.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re all on board, because Hoseok is already here.” Jimin happily smiled up to find Hobi shuffling through the cafe doors, waving enthusiastically at him. He also decides to ignore the collective round of groans and ‘Jimin!’’s that went around the table.

“Why did you even ask us for our opinions if you already planned this out anyway?” Jungkook hisses, awkwardly smiling at Hoseok.

“Because you guys can never say no to me!”

“That’s only because of how fucking annoying you are, Chimmy.” Jin moves over in order to let Hoseok sit, even though he doesn’t look overjoyed at having to abandon his favourite seat.

“Well, all of you look super happy to see me.” Hobi jokes, immediately picking up Namjoon’s milkshake to take a sip.

“Sorry that you had to get dragged into all this bullshit, Hobi,” Namjoon says, pushing his milkshake towards him and sticking a second straw in the cup.

“No problem! I love pissing Yoongi off!” The group slowly stares at Hobi, who is still cheerfully sipping at Joon’s milkshake.

“Well,” Taehyung mutters. “What else do you enjoy doing in your spare time? Drowning yourself in lava?”

“Taehyung, play nice. Some people are just special. Anyways, here is the plan for Operation: Delusional Idiots Who Need To Make Out.”

“... Can’t we shorten that?”

“Yeah, seems pretty lengthy.”

“How about Operation: DIWNTMO? Like, pronounced as diwinteemo?”

“That’s… even worse, somehow.”

“Let’s just shorten it to Operation: Delusional Idiots.”

Six voices, in the middle of the busiest cafe on the school campus, suddenly shout out the words ‘Operation: Delusional Idiots!’, and a cheer goes around the table.

Onlookers wonder if they are referring to themselves.

✂︎

In hindsight, Namjoon was probably right. But Jimin can be extremely convincing sometimes, and Jin takes every opportunity to throw a party, so maybe Namjoon was fighting a lost cause in the first place.

He ponders what he wants his tombstone to say, while pacing around Jin’s apartment, where the party is already going on, full force. Maybe something like ‘Kim Namjoon (1994-2020) Murdered by Min Yoongi at a house party.’ Well, at least if he really does die tonight, it would be a good night for it.

Namjoon has many complaints about Seokjin. He could probably pull up a never ending list of the girls and guys who have come complaining to him for his friend’s mistakes, screaming about how Jin broke their heart, so and so. But, even he has to begrudgingly agree, Kim Seokjin throws one hell of a party.

It was one of those rare nights where you could actually make out the faint stars in the Seoul skyline, where the twinkling of the stars felt peaceful. Namjoon isn’t too much of a party person, but the monsters that he calls his friends go out every Friday night, pulling him along most of the time. He’s gotten used to just camping out on Jin’s fancy apartment balcony, (Seriously, what kind of college kid has a balcony?) avoiding the cheers, loud screaming and horribly unhygienic things that are happening inside.

Unfortunately, thanks to Park Jimin and his horrible ideas, Namjoon is currently wincing in the middle of a huge crowd full of sweaty bodies. He regrets not faking a fever while he could, but it was way too late now. His job tonight was to keep Y/n preoccupied.

“Remember Joonie, under no circumstances can Y/n see Yoongi before Hoseok completes the task. If she even sees a glimpse of him, she’s going to freak out and leave.”

His aforementioned target was nowhere to be seen. Namjoon is starting to worry that all their efforts will go to waste just because you decided it was another Friday to stay in bed and watch Disney movies on repea-

“wHOA!” Another sweaty hand pulls him out from the crowd, and Namjoon stumbles out, breathing heavily.

“Why aren’t you out on the balcony?”

“Why- what- oH! Y/n!”

You stare blankly at Namjoon, who is still rubbing his arm in pain.

“You came!” He says, with a look on his face that you can’t quite decipher.

“What do you mean, I came? Of course I came! It was you and Jin who insisted I come, right?” You dragged him over to the makeshift bar that Jin had set up hours ago on his kitchen island, pouring the both of you strong drinks. You’ll need it to get through the night.

“Right!” Namjoon awkwardly laughs and follows you into the kitchen, craning his neck to lock eyes with Jimin, who then gives him a thumbs up and leans over to whisper to Hoseok.

“Y/n,” He says, patting your back when you start coughing lightly from the shot you just downed. “We’re friends no matter what, right?”

“What are you talking about?” You cut him off, looking around Jin’s apartment. “Wow, it’s pretty empty today. Aren’t there usually like 50 people trying to get into one of these parties?” Luckily for Namjoon, who was almost sweating and about to cry trying to come up with an excuse to satisfy you, you ignored him and continued talking.

“Whatever, it’s fine. The less, the better.” You’re still looking around the crowds when you grab a hold of Namjoon’s shoulders, turning him towards you. “Yoongi’s not here, right?”

“What? hahahHHAHAHA nO of course not!”

“Oh okay,” You breathe out a sigh of relief. “I look terrible today, I would not be able to face him.”

“You look great today! What do you mean…!” Hopefully you dismiss the bead of sweat trailing down from his temple. It is pretty hot in here.

Apparently, it took multiple threats, to Yoongi’s coffee machine and lots of bargaining from Jimin to convince him to attend the party, but it seemed to have worked, considering that Namjoon could make out the dark figure of Yoongi, dressed in a black hoodie and ripped jeans in the corner of the room, chatting to Jungkook. His eyes, however, were riveted straight beside him, on Y/n.

“They really are idiots.” Namjoon muses to himself.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

From the corner of his eye, Taehyung is waving his arms around trying to catch his attention. He mouths something that Namjoon can’t quite make out, so he just mouths a ‘what?’ back at him and shakes his head.

Namjoon can almost hear Taehyung sigh from across the room.

You’re still pouring your second shot, so you don’t notice as Hoseok walks slowly from the living room. Namjoon has actually never seen his friends more concentrated on anything in his life. Even Seokjin, who was, just a second ago, dancing with some guy that Namjoon isn’t even sure he knows, has now pushed the stranger away, completely fixated on Y/n, who is blissfully oblivious to the attention focused on you.

“Hey…!” Hoseok slowly slides in, real fucking smooth, if Namjoon could add, beside Y/n leaning on his forearm and smiling up towards her. Namjoon has to commend Jimin for the execution of Operation: Delusional Idiots. He’s honestly never seen Jimin put this much work into anything.

Hoseok was the only mutual friend they knew of that Yoongi was familiar with, but not Y/n. Jimin said that he had considered Jackson for a short while, before realising that Jackson can’t talk to girls for shit. At least Hoseok can force his thoughts into some semblance of order when he’s flirting.

“Oh! … Who,” You furrow your brows at Hobi, and Namjoon slowly backs away against the kitchen wall. “Are you?” Hobi laughs and spins around to face you.

“I guess you don’t know me. I’m Jung Hoseok,” He sticks his hand out and you tentatively shake it, making him grin. “I’m friends with Namjoon.” He points up at Namjoon, and Joon awkwardly smiles, waving back at the pair.

“Ohh,” You say, nodding. “Hi! Nice to meet you!” Sometimes Namjoon worries about you. You’re way too friendly and nice for your own good.

“I’m a dance major, actually. You can call me Hobi, by the way.” He smiles at you and finally lets go of your hand. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?” You shake your head, murmuring incoherently. “No, I didn’t think so. I’d remember you if we met.” You giggle and push him aside playfully, offering him a drink. Hoseok accepts it with a smile even wider than the last.

(Namjoon is now a little skeptical about Hoseok’s claims of flirting skill, but thankfully, you are, admittedly, a little stupid when it comes to this kind of stuff. You probably won’t even notice Hobi’s flirting with you at all.)

From the corner of the room, Yoongi’s deep gaze is now glaring deep into Hoseok’s back, but Hobi either seems to not notice or acknowledge it. He continues to stare at Y/n, laughing at whatever comes out of your mouth.

“You’re a dance major? That’s so cool!” You gush, and if he didn’t know you so much, Namjoon would think that you were flirting back. No, you were just that naive.

“- Thanks!” Hobi suddenly laughs at something that Namjoon didn’t manage to catch, but what he does catch is the look on Yoongi’s face when Hobi touches your forearm.

Even Jungkook, who was talking to Yoongi, gulped and took a step back. Jin gestures something to Jimin, and Jimin shoots back an enthusiastic thumbs up. He then shouts something over to Namjoon, but he can’t quite hear over the loud party noise.

Based on his own mediocre lip-reading skills, he either said ‘It’s going well’ or ‘Jungkook smells’ He’s thinking maybe it’s the first. Namjoon slides away from the kitchen to join Jin, who is happily watching all of this unfold from the sidelines.

“When do you think he’ll break?” Jin says, sipping on a bright blue drink that Namjoon doesn’t even want to know the contents of. He quickly glances over at Yoongi’s face, which is getting redder by the moment.

“Anytime now. His glass is about to explode from his grip.” Sure enough, Namjoon predicted correctly. A few moments later, Yoongi begins to stalk over to the kitchen, and Jin clinks his bright blue monstrous concoction against Namjoon’s glass. Grumbling, Jungkook also comes over and slaps a $10 dollar bill into Jin’s palm, scowling when Jin smiles and accepts it.

“Yeah, so a group of otters are actually called a romp, can you believe that- oomph!” Seemingly popping out of nowhere, Yoongi grabs a hold of your hand, glaring at Hobi.

“Yoongi!” You squeak out. Namjoon, that fucking liar! He left you all by yourself with a new friend and didn’t even bother telling you the love of your life was in the very same room? You didn’t even wash your hair yesterday night! Well, at least someone finally listened to what you have to say about otters… say, that was a bit unordinary, nobody else has ever been interested in your otter fun facts before-

Your trail of thought fades away when you look back up at Yoongi, who is still strangely looking at Hobi. “Um...” How is he holding you right now? He flinches away whenever you poke him on the shoulder, how is he holding your arm right now, completely unaffected? Oh.

Of course Yoongi wouldn’t touch you willingly. He just has to be stupidly noble and moral and save you when you’re alone with a man he isn’t familiar with. “Oh, ah… Yoongi! This is my new friend, Hobi! You have nothing to worry about, I was just talking to him about otters and- oh, nevermind. Anyways, you don’t… have… to… hold my hand anymore.” Well, at least you can save him from the embarrassment of holding your hand any longer.

“Yoongi, Yoon- Yoongi,” He doesn’t let go of your hand, even when you attempt to slip yours out of his. He seems to be gripping on, for a reason you can’t seem to comprehend. All he’s doing right now is maintaining eye contact with Hobi. Instead, he just glares into his eyes, repeating your words.

“Friends. Friends?”

“Yes, friends! Oh, ah, let me introduce you, um, Hobi, this is Yoongi, and Yoongi, this is-”

“Jung Hoseok. You call him Hobi?”

“Well, yes- oh! Do you two know each other, or?”

“Of course!” Hobi says, pouring another drink out. He stretches out his arm and offers the glass to Yoongi, but all he does is stare at the glass, not moving an inch. Still smiling brightly, Hobi just brought the glass to his lips, sipping on two separate drinks at a time.

“Long time no see, man! Yoongi, how’ve you been?” Yoongi, still clutching onto your hand, stayed silent for a while, all while Hobi continued to smile.

“I’m… fine.” He eventually chokes out.

“Yoongi, are you okay? You seem really-” You’re once again interrupted when Yoongi pulls you away, stomping out the kitchen. You lean backwards, yelling out a quick apology to Hobi, but he doesn’t seem affected in the slightest.

“Yoongi, you’re being rude! I said you don’t have to worry! Hobi is a new friend I met, he’s a friend of Namjoon’s, and we were just talking about otters-”

“Why are you defending yourself?” Boy, you just keep on getting interrupted tonight.

“Wha- huh?” Yoongi finally lets your hand go when he reaches the apartment door, shutting it closed, leaving it swinging in midair, even though he regretted it immediately after. You can still faintly hear the party going on through the door, but you had no time to process the fact that Yoongi just pulled you outside the party when he spoke up again.

“I said, why are you defending yourself like that? You have no reason to. You’re acting like I just caught you cheating.” Yoongi’s voice turns faint towards the end of his sentence, and he looks down at his feet, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“I’m not defending myself! I’m just- I’m just, well, I-” You fumbled with your words, stuttering and fidgeting around with your fingers. Why were you defending yourself? It’s not like… Yeah, it’s not like you’re his girlfriend or anything.

“You can talk about otters to whoever you want. You might want to change up your flirting tactics though, not many people can put up with your strange obsession with otters-”

“hEY!”

“- Anyways, Hoseok’s, not a bad man. He’s pretty great, actually,” Yoongi admits. “He’ll treat you well. And he seems to be super interested in you, so… ” Yoongi clears his throat. You narrow your eyes and look down at his shuffling feet. This is probably the most Yoongi has ever spoken to you, in private, anyway. Why is he so unbothered? And why does that bother you so much? He doesn’t even care a little bit? Does Hobi really seem like such a great guy?

“You don’t care?”

“No, just, you know, don’t get hurt, or whatever. I’ll have to murder him… Or something.” You let out a small laugh, but he doesn’t seem to be joking.

“So, if I go straight back in and ask Hobi out, you wouldn’t mind?” You swear that a vein pops out from Yoongi’s neck, but perhaps it was just your imagination.

“Why would I mind?” He says, through clenched teeth.

“... You’re right. Why would you be mad? You don’t care about me anyways.” Something ticks in Yoongi’s jaw.

“What do you mean I don’t care for you?” He blurts out, just as you were about to head back through the apartment door.

“Oh no, please, it doesn’t bother me as much now, trust me. It’s fine, Some people just don’t… vibe with you, I get it! You don’t like me all that much, it’s okay! It’s not like you’ve hurt me or anything! You just don’t like talking to me because I’m kind of a dumbass, that’s alright. It’s okay to keep avoiding me. And again, I’m sorry for the whole elbow thing, you didn’t talk to me for like the next two weeks, and again, I totally understand, you know?” Yoongi stares at you, blinking in realisation.

“So… you mean to tell me that all this time, you’ve thought that… I didn’t like you?”

“Well,” Now you’re blinking confusedly along with him. “Isn’t that… why you run away everytime I come over to hangout with Jimin?” Yoongi brings his hands out of his pockets and buries his face in them, groaning.

“And that’s why you don’t like talking to me, right? And that one time I spoke to you and you went into the bathroom and screamed for like five minutes? … Do you not hate me?” A look of realisation floods his eyes, and Yoongi leans against the wall, slowly sinking down to the ground until he’s practically sprawled out on the floor. Staring aimlessly, he reaches up and grabs your hand again, pulling you down to face him. You let out a small squeak, but you crouch down on your feet, awkwardly looking at your right hand that Yoongi (!!!) is currently holding for the second (!!!!) time.

“Forgive me, Y/n.” He whispers, dropping his head onto your hand.

“Forgive you? What for? Yoongi this is a little dramatic, don’t you think? This is technically a public area, um, maybe you wanna go back to your dorm? I can call Jimin out here, I’m sure he’ll leave the party early, let me just-” He pulls you back and won’t let go, even when you try to stand and leave his grip.

“Yoongi!” Like a child clutching onto his mother, he just sits there and pouts, not letting your hand go.

“I’m sorry!” He wails, lightly kicking his feet up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being my emo self and avoiding you, I’m sorry for making you think I hate you when that really isn’t the case at all, I’m sorry for being an idiot and screaming whenever you touched me, I promise that none of that was ever your fault, because you must have felt so hurt and disgusted by me-” Yoongi suddenly looks up and glares at you.

“Yah! Why didn’t you just slap me!”

“Slap… you?”

“Yes, slap some sense into me, you idiot! I was so mean to you, why didn’t you just tell me you were hurt?”

“Well,” You said, smiling nervously. “I wasn’t hurt!”

“Yes you were!” He wails again. Some sort of strangled noise comes from the back of his throat. “You must’ve been really hurt, and I’m sorry! I don’t want you to be hurt! I don’t want you to date Hobi, and I don’t want to lose you, because I’m selfish, and I’m fucking stupid!”

You speechlessly opened your mouth and closed it again, like a fish. Well, that was a full 180. What is he talking about? Apologising? You had dealt with the uncomfortable small talk and denying your feelings for years only to have him apologise now? You finally manage to open your mouth and firmly say something, but what comes out of your mouth is certainly not what you planned to say.

“Min Yoongi!” You yelled and watched him slightly tilt his head up. “How could you say that now!?” His head is fully up now, gazing at you slightly dazed. “How dare you mess with my feelings for the past two years, just to completely, unexpectedly, blurt all of this out outside of Seokjin’s shitty house party?” You cry, slouching down onto the ground and sitting cross legged. Your unoccupied hand reaches up to your hair, frustratingly running your hand through your messy locks.

“... If it counts for anything, I think that your obsession with otters is really cute.” You sniffle, for no particular reason, and nod.

“... Does that mean you like me then?”

“Y/n,” Yoongi sighs, taking your other hand out of your hair and placing it into his own. “Isn’t that obvious, you fucking dumbass?”

“You’re kinda giving off mixed signals here.” Yoongi squishes your cheeks together in a brave act from an unusual burst of courage that he managed to somehow build up.

“Y/n,”

“Mmph- Yesh?”

“I like you. I like you a lot. I’m sorry for being a dumbass who couldn’t ask you out, and I’m sorry I had to do this at Seokjin’s ‘shitty house party’, but I’d really like it if you would go on a date with me sometime.”

Yoongi releases your cheeks from his grip when you stay silent for a small while, red slowly creeping up from the neck up to his ears.

“I mean, you know, only if you want to, it’d be fine if all of that was just, you know… ” Yoongi mutters, gesturing around randomly.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Yoongi.”

“Oh. Cool, that’s cool. That’s… yeah that’s cool.”

“Text me the details?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll, I’ll do- I’ll do that.”

You can hear a faint scream when you enter Seokjin’s apartment again, but instead of filling you with the insecure, horrible feeling like it once did, you just smile and giggle to yourself again. What you don’t seem to notice is Jimin, Jin, Joon, Tae, Jungkook and Hobi exchanging victorious glances across the room.

(About a week later, Yoongi took you to the zoo for your date. He slightly regretted that decision after you spent an hour making faces at the otters.)

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thatkidwhodreams · 4 years ago

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You’re The Bad boy? | Chapter One | #ShawnMendesWritingCircle

A/N: Firstly, we’ve all gotta thank @saysweartogod-og for coming up with such an amazing idea and I can’t wait to see the whole thing!

Word Count: 1514

Cliche? I think tf not!

College.

Or university if you like. It was a love hate relationship between the two of you but in order to get a good career, it was necessary they said. So here you were once again having just gotten out of your car and facing towards the gates of what was considered your home for most of the day.

You walked into the building and went straight for your locker. You had a whole lot of books to carry so it was obviously very useful. You still had a few hours before class so you said a ‘hello’ to a few professors and a few of your peers before heading outside campus for a quick coffee. You were given permission to leave campus grounds before school and it wasn’t like once you were in the building you were trapped until it lessons were over.

The walk wasn’t very far. It was quite close to your college and you loved how the wind blew towards your face and you took each step forward. The sun wasn’t out yet so it was a little dim and the trees swayed against the wind.

You walked into the coffee shop and ordered your coffee. Whilst waiting you glanced around and saw a tall figure staring at you. You immediately made eye contact and you felt a little brave so you stared right back at him. It was now a staring contest.

It only lasted 30 seconds before you began to feel uncomfortable so you quickly turned away. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head even though you weren’t looking.

The barista handed you your coffee and you said a quick ‘thank you’ before heading towards the park across from the coffee shop to sit on a bench.

You sat down and scrolled through your phone. The park was pretty empty seeing as it was morning and students were slowly and we’ll emphasise slowly, going to school through the park. There were a few joggers but the one thing that managed to catch your eye was the same tall figure staring at you again.

This time on a tree nearby with his arms crossed and his tattoos on show. You took the time to fully examine his features unlike last time. You did find it a little creepy how his long legs managed to travel to the same spot you were in again. You noticed that he had muscles and you could tell he worked out a lot. His curly locks fell down onto his face just above his eyebrows and he brushed it back a little. He still had that same smirk that he had when he saw you in the coffee shop. His big brown eyes stared at you once again but this time it was softer almost like he was fond of you or something.

You decide to be a little courageous and wave at him. He clearly saw it but decided to ignore it and look away. Examining everything except yourself this time. You found it a little rude and you suddenly got that weird awkward feeling that you get when you wave at someone and they don’t wave back. You continued to go scroll on your phone for the remainder of the hour before you proceeded to head back into the building.

You suddenly had an urge to visit the bathroom so that’s where you went a few minutes before classes started. You finished, dried your hands and headed out.

On your way out you saw the same weird tattoo guy who couldn’t stop staring at you wipe his hands on his jeans. The men’s bathroom wasn’t too far from the women’s so you knew that he had also been to the bathroom.

You couldn’t stop staring at him once again and you fell as you crossed paths. His muscular arms managed to save your fall and you were grateful but his hands were still a little wet so as soon as you steadied yourself you pulled away from him.

You were about to say something but he beat you to it.

“Be careful and watch where you’re going next time.”

You stared up at him in shock. You weren’t expecting his voice to be so angelic but the words that uttered from his mouth were rude so you came back with something too.

“Ew please don’t touch me, your hands are wet and you’ve just been in there. God knows what you even did.”

“I believe the words you were looking for were thank you. And my hands are clean I just came out of there.” He said and you scoffed. You definitely weren’t going to be kind to him after what he just said to you. He could have at least said it in a nicer way. There were so many nice ways to say what’s going where you’re going and although those words itself were fine it was the way it was said and the tone he used.

“Yes, I can see that.” You said as you grimaced and the wet marks on his jeans.

You were confused because earlier he seemed fond of you and now he was acting like he hated and wanted absolutely nothing to do with you. You laughed a little, of course he didn’t, he hardly knew you.

Your laugh caused him to give you a strange look. “Are you good? Maybe you nearly falling caused some side effects.” He said, smiling a little.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Shut up. You can’t be mean and then smile right after. Besides do you think you’re some sort of bad boy or something?”

“You could say that. That’s not the term I’d use to address myself but yeah.”

“Are you new or something? This is the first time I’m seeing you around.”

“Yeah I’m new. Today is my first day even though we’re like three months into the semester. You say something a lot.” He poured out and you frowned a little.

“Oh so I’ll see you in class then? Don’t tell me you’re going to be late on purpose because you’re the ‘bad boy’.”

“We’ll have to see them won't we?” He said looking at you with that same smirk. He looked ahead and started to walk away. It was then that you remembered how rude he was a few minutes ago.

“I demand an apology for the rudeness earlier!” You shouted at him as he walked away from you to God knows where. Class was starting in 5 minutes and you’d already had the most eventful morning of the year. “It was ruder than rude!” You added on.

You heard him chuckle and shout back “yeah that’s not gonna happen babe.” He said and turned to the next corner.

You then scoffed at the nickname and before his figure disappeared you called a quick “don’t call me babe you giant stalker!”

There was no reply as he had disappeared. You shook your head and went back to your locker to retrieve a few books before eventually heading to class.

As class started you managed to get a seat near your friends as you had been doing for ages and no one complained as you still did work and weren’t as easily distracted as people might have thought.

About an hour into the lecture you saw the door open and it was the same guy who told you he may be late. The one who touched you with his wet hands which you hoped were clean and the one whose eye was always on you for some reason.

You were surprised when you professors stopped for him. Probably because he was new and this was the first time he was seeing him.

“Ah you must be Mr Shawn Mendes. Take a seat, you’ve just come halfway in between my lesson. And on your first day, I must say I’m very disappointed.” Shawn’s cheeks became warm and turned bright red. “I do hope that colour on your cheek is that of embarrassment because that is what you should be. This should not happen again. Am I clear?”

Shawn nodded and found an empty seat. This time it was your turn to smirk as you turned to look at him in his new seat. So did the rest of the class. Your professor carried on. He was very passionate about teaching and cared for all his students. Yes, he could like most take all the money and teach those who seemed to care but he saw potential in all of you and that’s why you liked him.

Shawn glared at your smirk and eventually averted his eyes to pay proper attention to the lecture.

Your friend turned to you and whispered “who do you think that is?” You looked back at so called Shawn and he did not look back this time, fully concentrated on what was going on and turned back to your friend.

“That my friend, is a stalker but he’s also the dude who thinks he’s a bad boy.”

I hope you liked it! Remember feedback is always appreciated and the next chapter is not going to be written by me which is really exciting!

#shawn mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes #shawnblr #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes blurb #shawnmendeswritingcircle #shawn mendes fic #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes x reader fluff #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes smut

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overthemoon4themarauders · 4 years ago

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“It’s late. You should be asleep”

Sorry, this one’s not my best work because it was a little rushed. But I wanted to post something for y’all. So here’s a bit of Jily for you!

“Arghhhh,” Lily silently groaned. Lily could not for the life of her fall asleep. She was extremely tired, but her body simply did not want to fall asleep. I hate being an insomniac, Lily thought to herself. “Oh well,” she said to herself. “I’ll see if I can make myself tired.” So Lily quietly got changed and left for the nearby park for a long walk.

When she arrived at her nearby park, she noticed she wasn’t alone. There seemed to be a man there sitting on the slide. Lily decided to leave him alone and sit on the opposite side of the playground on the grass.

She sat down and just reminisced about her earlier life. She remembered what her childhood was like before Hogwarts. She remembered being a first year and not having to worry about the war raging on outside of Hogwarts’ walls. She remembered all of the simpler times, and she wished she could go back. Even if it was just for a day.

She was interrupted in her thoughts by the sounds of ragged breathing. Panicked, she looked around and realized that it was the person on the opposite side of the playground. It was dark, but even then she could see that this person just wasn’t okay. She debated whether or not to step in to help, but he could be dangerous. Her compassion won, so she walked over to him.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked as she walked over.

The person in question seemed to nod. “Yes, I’m alright.” But he sounded anything but. He was hyperventilating and shaking!

Lily frowned. By the sound of his voice, he was about her age. And he was obviously not okay, but he lied directly to her face.

“Hey,” Lily spoke softly as she kneeled down in front of him. She gently put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Breathe. Do it with me.” She cautiously grabbed his hand and placed it on her chest. “Breathe with me. Feel it. Ready? Okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.”

They continued this way for a few minutes until his breathing had evened out. “Are you feeling a little better now?” Lily asked him hopefully.

“Yes, I am. Thank you.” He said without looking at her.

Lily didn’t know what else to do, so she started walking away. Before she could get very far, though, he called out.

“Wait,” he said as he scrambled to get up. “Thank you so much for what you did. I normally just pass out after one of my episodes, but you managed to help. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Lily knew this voice from somewhere, but she couldn’t place it, and it was too dark outside to see his face. “No, really it’s alright.”

“Please,” he insisted. “I know an ice cream shop not to far from here. And I swear I won’t kidnap you or anything. I’m not crazy like that.” He joked.

Lily chuckled. “Alright. If you say so. And sure. Ice cream sounds delicious.”

In the darkness, they walked in silence. It wasn’t too far away from the park, but it was enough to allow them to talk a bit.

“So, if I may ask, what happened?” Lily asked him.

“I had a panic attack. I have really bad anxiety, and it’s getting worse. I’m working on calming myself down and staying in control, but I was just so fired up that I couldn’t.” He said quietly. He paused, then asked, “So why are you out here at two in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a walk to the park. I just wanted to clear my head for a bit.”

“Clear your head? What’s on your mind. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything. We’ll probably never see each other again, so your secret’s safe with me!” He added cheerfully.

She laughed and then said, “Well, I have a lot going on at home and at school. I also don’t know what I want to do with my life. It’s a huge decision and I don’t want to make the wrong choice.”

“Well, what are you passionate about? What is the first thing that came to mind when I asked that question?”

Lily’s mind immediately jumped to a healer, but she couldn’t say that. This man was probably a muggle. So instead she said doctor.

“Ah, a doc-doctor,” he said, fumbling over the word as if it was foreign to him. “I could have told you as much.”

“What do you mean,” Lily asked confusedly.

“Well, I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know your name, and you still approached some random guy at the park and helped him calm down when he could have been some crazy psycho trying to lure you into coming closer. You’re compassionate, which is one of the most important qualities for a doc-doctor.”

Lily considered it for a moment. “I guess you’re right. That’s a step in one direction.”

“Well there you go! I would say don’t overthink it, but that would be a bit hypocritical of me.” He said with a chuckle.

Lily understood the joke and smiled softly.

The rest of the way was a very silent trip, but it was a comfortable silence. Lily almost wished that the ice cream shop wasn’t so close. She genuinely enjoyed this guy’s company.

The other person spoke up. “One more turn, and we’re there.” Sure enough after they turned the block, there was a very small ice cream shop hidden between two buildings.

When they had reached the door, he walked ahead and opened the door open for her. However small of a gesture, she appreciated it.

As they walked in a loud voice boomed from behind the counter. “JAMES!” They shook hands across the counter, and only then did Lily realize that the person she was with was none other than James Potter.

She couldn’t hide her shock. “James?”

James quickly turned and didn’t hide his shock either. “Lily?”

“You’re the one I helped?” Lily asked incredulously. “But you’re so…..different. Who are you and what have you done with James Potter?”

“Lily,” he said as if he was in pain. “I’m not the same kid you used to know. I’m so sorry that you only know me as a bully, but I can promise you that I’m not like that anymore.” He paused before adding, “How about we get some ice cream and we talk for a bit?”

Lily was doubtful again, but he really sounded sincere, so she agreed. And she was glad she did Potteer- no, James’s face lit up at that.

“So, now for the most important question. What flavor do you want?”

Lily left with a scoop of cookie dough and a scoop of mint chocolate chip while Lily left with one scoop of vanilla and a scoop of chocolate.

“Want to walk back to the park?” Lily asked.

“Yeah. Let’s go back to the park.”

The walk back to the park was a lot shorter than the walk to the ice cream shop. They arrived and both plopped down onto the grass. Lily had so many questions for James, but she didn’t know how to start. Luckily she didn’t have to.

“You’re quiet.” James observed. “Which means you have something to say. So, ask away.”

Lily was surprised that James knew that she wanted to ask something. She took it as an invitation to speak, so she started with her biggest question. “How long have you had anxiety.”

James winced before answering. “I’ve always had it. It wasn’t so bad when I was younger, but as I got older, it started to get worse. Today was one of my worst days. I just have a lot on my plate. I’m really working on it. Now to prevent a depressing conversation, I have a question for you. There has to be something else that brought you out to the playground in the middle of the night. So spill.”

“Well. I’m just, so worried about the future. My sister hates me, and she’s getting married soon. She’s just going to leave and never come back. And it’s our last year at Hogwarts. When we leave, what do we do? I know we’re all going to separate and get jobs, but there’s a war too. How bad is it going to get? I just have so many burning questions, none of which I have the answers to. I don’t want to just go through the motions of life. I want to make a difference in this world. I just….don’t know how.” She finished lamely.

“Wow. You really know how to get into deep conversations.” He joked.

Lily hit his arm jokingly. “Prat.” James just laughed it off.

“But seriously, if you spend too much time worrying about what might happen, you’re going to stress yourself out. Trust me, I know from experience. Go with what feels right to you. And I know that sounds SO cliche, but it’s the best you can do for yourself. Earlier, I now know you meant healer instead of doctor. If you really wanted to help with the war, you can help with healing those who are fighting in it. I’m sure you would do so much more because you’re Lily fucking Evans, but that’s all I have for now.”

Lily was shocked. She had never seen this side of James. And she loved it. “Wow. You really know how to get into deep conversations,” Lily mocked his earlier statement.

James lightly pushed her. “Oh shove off.” And they both laughed.

For the next 2 hours (though it felt like 30 minutes to them) were spent in similar conversations. They went from their lives to favorite colors and to every other topic they could have possibly reached. Lily was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. She also felt guilty for only thinking he was a bully. From what she could gather, James was a magnificent person.

Lily interrupted James’s rambling about reindeer. “Hey James.”

“Yes?” he responded, confused.

“You’re not too bad.” Lily joked, hoping he would understand her hidden message.

He smiled lightly before responding, “You’re not too bad yourself. Okay, as much as I love talking to you, trust me I really really do. It’s late. You should be asleep. So, I’ll walk you home to make sure no psychos can take you.”

Lily laughed. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I’ve been around one all night.”

“OI!” James yelled, but there was no malice in his voice. “I’ll have you know I’m very sane, thank you very much.”

“I’m sure you are.” They both grinned at each other and walked side by side to Lily’s house.

“Well, we’re here. No psychos fortunately” Lily said hesitantly.

“Ah, that’s a good thing. They wouldn’t want to see the wrath of Prefect Evans.” He joked. “Well anyways, I’ll see you around. And thank you for everything.” He added that last part quietly, but she still heard it and understood what he meant.

“You’re welcome. And thank you for a fun time.” Lily said sincerely. As James was walking away, she spoke up again. “Hey Potter!”

He turned, confused. “Meet me here tomorrow. We’ll get some ice cream during the day instead of the middle of the night.” She almost didn’t ask, but she was glad she did. It was worth it to see James’s face light up like a Christmas tree.

“I would love that. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Evans,” then he walked back up to her and gave her a light peck on the cheek, making her blush like mad.

Maybe, just maybe, she had misjudged James Potter. Maybe he was good after all. Only time would tell.

Thank you so much for reading!!!

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sagemoderocklee · 4 years ago

Note

Writer ask meme - everything divisible by 3

Sorry this took so long to reply to! I was writing out my responses today, but while watching Rosewell New Mexico with my roommate and that show is SO good. anyways this is really, really long so I will put part of it under a read more however if you are reading TAoL and want a sneak peak at an upcoming chapter, my answer to 36 is the entire first scene for that chapter

3. What is your favorite/least favorite part about writing? Other than the obvious writer's block, I think that my least favorite part is feeling insecure/wanting validation via comments and such. Writing is something I really enjoy doing and take great pride in trying to grow as a writer, but it's impossible to completely shake off that feeling of insecurity and sadness over something that doesn't get comments. There's this common thing in fandom where like you can pour a lot of heart and energy into something, be really skilled, only for it to get overlooked. There's obviously a lot of reasons for that, but some of those reasons are kind of annoying—like god forbid something not have sex in it, ya know?

6. Favorite character you’ve written?

So, that's hard.... If we're talking the canon Naruto characters, it can really vary from story to story. I obviously enjoy writing Gaara and Lee, but I was surprised to find that I really enjoy writing Shikamaru, Kankurou, Temari, Neji, and Tenten as well. I think all of them are really interested, have a lot of potential, and are fun in very different ways. Kankurou is definitely just flat out fun to write, and I think Tenten is very similar in the way she's fun to write. I think this like handful of characters are all faves for very different reasons so it's hard to say who my absolute fave is, but I really enjoy writing all of them. Definitely my fave thing is being able to write all of them interacting together, however.

9. Favorite/least favorite tropes?

Least: Soulmates. I hate that shit with a passion—it's boring, it's artificial, it's easy. There was a post I just saw recently that said “soulmates are stupid. I love you on purpose” and that just sums up so much of my issue with soulmates. If something is predetermined by some fucking cosmic power, do you really ever love that person? Do you really ever know that person? Soulmate AUs will always be something that bore me and also insight anger. It's just not for me, and I wish that fandom spaces would just get over it, in all honesty. Fave: uh. I don’t really know about like trope-wise. I just really like anything with good world building and politics.

12. Which story of yours do you like best? Why? Oh gosh.... um. That's really hard to answer because every story I write has a special place in my heart for different reasons. Alliance is my baby; TAoL is a huge emotional investment and has allowed me to grow even more as a writer; Absolution is something I've always wanted to explore; Flyweight Love is super fun and cute; IEYH is a new experiment in writing for me; GoD was also an experiment... and on and on. It's hard to pick like a favorite story because like they're all my faves in different ways. There are certainly things I like more or prefer, like I'm not that into modern Aus as much so it's easier for me to say that like Find Me isn't a one of my best—it isn't, there's a lot of things I want to fix on it, and while it is a decent fic, it's not like groundbreaking imo. But like for all of the things that need fixing with Alliance, that fic is my baby and really grounded me as a writer in a way no other writing project had before it. So like I could never not love it. Anyways, I'm babbling at this point, but basically I love all my fics so I can't choose.

15. How do you deal with self-doubt when writing? Rereading my writing tends to help and hoarding some of my favorite comments I've been left by readers. I know I'm a good writer, self-doubt and insecurities aside, so re-reading stuff is really a good confidence booster—but when that's not enough, it is really helpful to look back at old comments.

18. Tell us about that one book you’ll never let anyone read

Of mine??? Well, obviously by 'book' we're going with fanfiction because none of my original content is at a point where I'd really even consider it for this question. Um. Honestly, I don't think there's much if anything. Maybe some HP fics but not because I'm not like... proud of the writing or premise. Like I'd say my ideas are really good, it's just a matter of like my own time management and shit.

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

My world building. I'm also generally proud of the premises I come up with, and the themes I explore with my writing. Like I think I'm a good writer in terms of the like technical writing aspect—pros and such—and also characters, but I think I excel at world building and overall plot.

24. Do you remember the moment you decided to become a writer/author? The first time I ever wrote anything I was seven years old. I was at a party for my mom's boss? I think it was a birthday party? Anyway, I was the only kid there—which was fine because I was used to being the only kid in gatherings—but I was sitting alone by like a window and I just like started writing a poem about the night. That was like the first time that writing really became a part of me. When I was thirteen, when my mom got sick, I started writing poetry more. And when I was fourteen, I started writing fanficiton and that's kinda just... never stopped. I've been writing stories ever since.

27. Every writer’s least favorite question - where does your inspiration come from? Do you do certain things to make yourself more inspired? Is it easy for you to come up with story ideas?

My inspiration comes from everywhere, not to like be cliched. But inspiration really is in everything and everyone. I tend to find inspiration really easily in music, but it's also in just like the day-to-day; it's in other writers; it's in washing dishes; it's in a day trip to the ocean; it's in a quote or a touch or a word. Like genuinely, it's in big things and little things and things that shouldn't even be things. I don't feel like I really struggle with inspiration so much as motivation, really. And that is... a much harder thing to find sometimes (especially when you're mentally ill)

30. Do you like to read books similar to your project while you’re drafting or do you stick to non-fiction/un-similar works?

Um. I like to read fantasy mostly, but I don't look for something similar or different from my projects intentionally. I just.... look for things that I like? But I don't really know how to explain that lol

33. What’s your revision/rewriting process like? Since I'm writing mostly fanfiction and the culture of having a beta reader has dwindled significantly, making it hard to find one, I do a lot of self-editing. I'm usually re-reading a lot as I'm writing. So until a chapter is done, I'm always going back and reading/editing before moving on to the next scene. And then once I'm done writing a chapter I'll usually edit it about two or three times in full in the document, then I put it in draft on Ao3 for another edit before posting.

36. Post a snippet All right a snippet..... Let's go with something from: The Art of Love, Chapter 13 (not the next chapter, but the one after). Since I left everyone hanging for so long with that last scene of Gaara and Lee, this is the entire first scene to ch13: It was all his fault. If he hadn't let himself get so carried away in the dream of Gyokukakushin, in the dream of Gaara, in the dream of safety they didn't have this wouldn't be happening. Their belongings had been stuffed haphazardly into their various bags. Despite how many times he'd checked and double checked, Lee felt sure that he'd overlooked something—some wayward item that had rolled beneath the bed or fallen behind the desk that would give them away. Gaara had watched him silently, his thoughts kept to himself as Lee dashed about their room like a mad man.

“I think that is everything,” Lee managed over the mantra of 'My fault, my fault' cycling through his mind. His voice trembled as he spoke. Every inch of him trembled. Every breath he took rattled in his chest. Every beat of his heart was a stutter against his rib cage. Every ounce of blood pumping through his veins burned with the need to run.

“This is useless,” Gaara said, the first words he'd spoken since the beach.

Lee snapped his head up, meeting Gaara's enigmatic gaze. “But—”

“They don't set sail until the end of the month,” he reminded Lee. “What use is being packed? Besides, it will look suspicious if we leave now.”

Tears burned at the corners of Lee's eyes. “But if they are coming—”

“They're coming,” Gaara murmured. “But even if they arrive before we've departed, we have our disguises. You have to trust that we'll be fine.”

Lee's head spun. How could Gaara be so calm? How could he sit there, quiet and unshakable, when Lee felt as though the world were falling apart around them? How could he be so sure that eleven days from now, they'd set sail, free and undiscovered? How was he not furious with Lee for his complacency?

Gaara was at Lee's side before Lee could shake the spinning in his head, a gentle hand at Lee's elbow and a surety in his eyes.

“I know you won't let anything happen to me,” he told Lee, as soft and insistent as the thumb he'd once pressed against the corner of Lee's mouth.

“No. Never.” Lee's stomach twisted, guilt rising like the tide. He'd let his feelings jeopardize everything.

“Then what do you have to fear?”

A trembling laugh escaped Lee, soft and unsteady. He had everything to fear, yet Gaara's gaze implored him to forget those fears. He managed to speak, his tongue heavy with the lie, “I do not know.”

“Then do not know fear. It will make this harder for us, especially if the Daimyo's soldiers arrive before we've left.”

“If they do—”

“If they do, we will be as unknown to them as any other traveler. And if not, I trust your speed to carry us to safety.”

“We would miss our ship.”

“If it comes to that, so be it. We can find other ways of traveling to Tea Country.”

Lee allowed himself to believe all would be well because he couldn't believe anything else when looking into the depths of Gaara's eyes, but there was no escaping his gnawing guilt or the knowledge that his heart had led them to ruin.

39. Do you spend a lot of time analyzing and studying the work of authors you admire? I wouldn't say a lot of time per say, certainly not as much as I should, but I definitely do like to analyze other works and learn new skills, etc.

42. How many drafts do you usually write before you feel satisfied? I don't really write “drafts” per say. Since I'm just writing fanfiction, I'm usually just writing and then heavily editing. Sometimes editing does mean taking out and entirely rewriting entire scenes. And sometimes in writing fics, I do jump ahead—though very rarely—and write a rough draft of a future scene so I don't lose the idea/beats/etc, and then that will be re-written fully when I do get to it. But on average, I'm just doing a lot of editing.

45. First or third person? Third, definitely. I'll never be able to write first person cause it just doesn't really suit me and, overall, I think that it's a very hard point of view to write from. For me, it takes a special

48. Do you prefer to write skimpy drafts and flesh them out later, or write too much and cut it back? So before I write something, depending on what it is I will write an outline that can vary from a few sentences to like pages.

51. Are you a secretive writer or do you talk with your friends about your books? A bit of both really. I love talking about the things I'm working on, but I also love to keep things a surprise so I can see what people's genuine reactions are to like plot twists or whatever. Of course, my problem is that I have to like—talk about my projects to stay motivated. It's a hard balance. I usually end up talking with my roommate since they also write fanfic for Naruto but not GaaLee. We can bounce ideas off each other, when we're stuck, etc.

54. Favorite first line/opening you’ve written? Ugh this is another hard one... I think im gonna go with the opening from IEYH right now as one of my fave becuase I think I did a decent job of setting the tone of my very first horror project: Too often, ghost stories begin with dark nights or horrible, gruesome death. Real ghosts don't follow the patterns of a novel; there are no beginnings, middles, and ends; no rising action and falling action; no denouement. Ghosts do not achieve resolution; ghost do not experience the climax of their own tale. There are no happy—or even sad—endings. There are no endings at all.

Ghost stories go on and on and on, rambling endlessly towards nothing and no where, only stopping for the finite amount of words one can speak or write in one's lifetime.

That is the true horror of death: ceaseless, unending nothingness.

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aaudace · 4 years ago

Text

art of loving on

pairing: sam wilson x ava rhodes

word count: 2.5k

notes: the fact that im super late on posting this says a lot about me, so lets just pretend that its still thanksgiving. okay so i know that the title is cliche and this might flop big time, but i wanted to do something a little different besides simply posting gifs. im a sucker for reading sappy one shots so I decided to make my own. this is part one of my holiday one shot series. enjoy!

If you were to ask Ava Rhodes how she felt about the holidays, more than likely she would give you a whole monologue on her hatred for it.

Call her a Scrooge, but her love for the holidays had faltered a year ago after she lost the one thing that was considered a gift to her. Losing the one thing that brought her peace was the last straw that broke her to pieces. Her patience for the holidays had changed dramatically. No longer had she been longing for the joyous laughter and loving smiles that the goodwill season brought along.

Instead with every waking moment, she dreaded it.

However, for at least the next few hours, she had to throw away her personal thoughts about jolly holiday and put on a facade. Her face no longer carried a cold hearted look, but instead her cheeks were burning red with joy and laughter. Although she hated herself for it, the Rhodes girl would volunteer herself to help at the Veterans Affairs Office that was a couple blocks from her apartment.

Even though it pained her dearly to sit through hours of hearing individuals explain their gratitude and compassion for the season, a part of her felt like the peace that she lost was there with her when she volunteered. Before he died, her boyfriend Marcus would spend hours in the exact building that basically became a formulated routine of the two of them each holiday season. The one thing that Ava missed the most about him was his passion for helping others. Her heart sung with joy as she watched him go above and beyond for each individual that walked through the doors. He had a way with words that made people feel good about themselves. Whether you were the poorest individual or the richest, Marcus was willing to do whatever it took to bring the best out of you. At least that’s what he did for Ava.

God, she missed him.

But she managed to put on a brave face as she stood in the same position that he did before. Her mind and hands had been tied up in many things. For the first hour of her time, she served food to individuals that came by the office. Usually within the first few minutes, the small building was packed from the outskirts. So this kept her mind busy. The few next hours, she spent entertaining the elderly veterans with card and board games. The first hour was pretty easy for her, but soon afterwards, she came to the realization that card games and grown men didn’t really mix as well as she thought. Bernard Chapman and Arthur Wilfred, two regulars at the VA did not really understand the concept of a friendly competition. One minute, she was showing one group how to play Connect Four, the next she found herself in the middle of a brawl that involved childish name calling and sailor swearing. This also kept her mind busy.

And now, with time being the thief that it was, she found herself in the banquet hall that once housed thousands of individuals that came from different walks, cleaning up the remainder of the trash that was left behind. Although the help that she once had offered to stay behind and help, she ushered them out of the door. She didn’t mind doing the clean up part. Out of everything, that was the easiest to her. In other words, it kept her mind busy.

As she cleaned off the tables, a sigh escaped from her lips. The silence that had once inhabited the quiet space had come to halt at the creaking sound of the doors being pushed open.

She figured it has been one of the volunteers, Marge coming back to help her out with the clean up. Marge had been one of Marcus’ favorite volunteers to work with. Her sass was nothing compared to what he put up with at home with Ava, however, it was her golden heart that made her stand out. She was different from other volunteers. Marge had been working for the VA office for years after her husband passed away. For her, this place had been a sanctuary of peace. Just like for Ava. Marge had become family for Ava. She was the only person that knew her the way that Marcus had come to know her. Maybe that was the reason why Ava was able to remain stable throughout her time of volunteering.

“Marge, how many times do I have to tell you,” Ava yelled, placing her rag onto her shoulder. She didn’t bother looking up at the entrance way because she knew looking into the eyes of the shameless woman would only make it hard for her to say no to her. “You know, one of these days you are just gonna accept the fact that no means no.”

The sound of footsteps echoed across the room as they began to move closer and closer towards Ava directions. “I swear, sometimes I wonder how Marcus dealt with you. You are worse than me. And sometimes I can’t even stand me....”

At this point, Ava turned from her duty to look up at the shadowy figure. Her green eyes widened as she realized that the body figure didn’t quite match up to the petite figure that Marge had. Instead, it was made up of bicep muscles that hid under a dark leather jacket. Her mouth opened to protest, but she couldn’t find the words. In fact, the only thing she could say was, “Uh, um—”

“Just so you know, Marge was on her way back, I just managed to convince her to go home,” the man said. He moved a little closer, covering the large gap that stood in between them. “I swear, she reminds of someone that I know. Someone that’s kind of feisty, blunt, and can be a little sarcastic at times. Sometimes a little too much, but we are working on that.”

Ava rolled her eyes, “I think the key of life is getting your point across. And there’s nothing wrong with my sarcasm. Some people just don’t have a sense of humor.”

“Or sometimes you can be a little too harsh and you aren’t willing to admit that.”

“If it makes you happy,” she scoffed. “I managed to put away my sarcasm and trade it in for joy and cheer for the day.”

“Atcha girl,” he laughed. “Look at you turning over a new leaf.”

Ava smirked at him. She loved the idea that he was proud of her. It had been a while since she had felt like that before. “But, now that the day is over. I’m putting it back on and I am now returning to my normal sarcastic, feisty, blunt self. Ah, it’s good to be me again.”

All the man could do is sigh and return a small chuckle as a response. Ava smiled back a little. “But besides my issues, what are you doing here, Sam? It’s the holidays, you are supposed to be spending time with family.”

As she said this, she moved past him, focusing on the last of the table that she had to clean. The smell of fresh lemons brushed against her nostrils as she squirted the bottle of cleaning supply that had been resting in her waist apron. One thing that she loved the most about cleaning the VA office was the vast amount of cleaning products they stored. She really couldn’t her finger on why exactly she enjoyed them so much. She just did.

Maybe it was the idea that each of them held a fragrance that held a sentimental memory in her mind. Like the one that smelt like an island breeze reminded her of the time Marcus cleaned up after a man who accidentally spilled his carton of milk on the floor. It had been a slow holiday at the VA office that day. Although the man was generous enough to help Marcus clean up the mess, it was Marcus that had been too caught up with everything that he forgot to place the warning sign for the place that he mopped and managed to slip. That holiday, Ava spent the majority of the night cracking jokes as they occupied the waiting room of the hospital for Marcus’ broken back. The one that smelt like flowers reminded her of her first time volunteering at the VA office. She and Marcus had only been dating for a couple of months. As part of getting to know him better, he invited her to see what he considered his safe haven. When he wasn’t dealing with police business, he would spend his Saturdays, encouraging other veterans who had been down on their luck. Ava would later find out that his dad was the reason why the place even existed. New York only had a few VA offices, but there was nothing like the one that stood on the corner of Baldwin Avenue and 2nd Street.

The one that she loved the most was the one that smelt like lemons. That one was his favorite.

“I could ask you the same question, Ava.” Sam said. She didn’t bother to stop cleaning. “Mariah called and said you didn’t want to come over for Thanksgiving dinner. She said something about you being sick. But knowing you like the back of hand, I knew that wasn’t true.”

Ava laughed a little. She had totally forgotten about the little white lie she had mentioned to her friend earlier. Mariah Riggs, her best friend, was known for doing the most of the holidays. In fact, she’s so much into it that she basically starts all of her planning in the summer. The summer for Christ’s sake. “Well, I was sick, but after a little while I started feeling a bit better. It’s no big deal, I’ll call Mariah tonight and tell her the truth.”

“Which one?” asked Sam. “The truth about you not being sick or the truth of the real reason why you continue to hate the holidays.” At this, Ava stopped her motion and turned to look at him. “Ava, I understand your reasoning, but you can’t keep—”

“Sam, can we please not get into this? I really don’t have the energy.”

He sighed. “Ava, avoiding the topic will only make it worse. You can’t keep burying yourself in this hole of hurt.”

“I am fine, okay,” she spoke, her tone turning a bit harsh. “I just don’t understand why everyone is so concerned. Why is it a crime that I hate this time of year?”

“Because when Marcus was alive you enjoyed it.” Her heart sank. Even though it was unspoken for the two of them, Ava didn’t like it when other people brought up the issue of her dead boyfriend. Usually, her reaction was cold and she was ready to fight the first person in sight. However, Sam never really brought it up before so she really did not how to react. She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued. “Marge told me that once upon a time, you were in love with the holidays. Now all you do is make any excuse to get out of anything festive just so you could stay locked up in your apartment. I can’t even get you say one good thing about the holidays.”

Her green eyes begin to water. She cursed at herself for even allowing herself to feel any type of vulnerability. He continued, “You don’t think when I signed up to be your boyfriend that I wouldn’t be prepared for these moments. Babe, you and I are a team. You have to let me in. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

He had a point, but Ava really didn’t want to admit that. However, the tears that streamed down her face said something else. The pair had been together for a little over a few months. And even though they seemed compatible, the thought of them getting closer scared Ava. If she was being honest, she was terrified when her heart started developing feelings for him. She was terrified when he asked out on a date. And she had been feeling this way for a hot second, but ironically, she was terrified of even bringing it up.

The silence stood in between for a moment. Sam stood in front her, his heart beating out of his chest. The longer she stood in silent, the more nerve wracking it became from him. The few months of dating Ava had its moments of challenges. But it also had its rewards. Even though she was tough, she had her moments to where she brought out the good in him believe it or not. And that was something that wasn’t easy. But she did it. And as someone who cared and loved her, he was willing to do whatever it took to do the same for her.

“I-I am scared that one day, I’ll wake up and you won’t be there for me.” Ava spoke, finally popping the bubble of silence. “I am scared that if I let my guard down, life will take away from me. Just like it did for Marcus. Sam, I want to let you in — I really do, but I am just tired of—”

Her words were cut off by the touch of his soft lips on herself. He placed his hands onto her waist, pulling her a little closer to him. Ava didn’t remember exactly when it happened, but sudden her hands were wrapped around his neck. Even though he was a couple inches taller she didn't have to stand on her toes, the heels of her boots did that job for her.

When he pulled away from her, he looked into her eyes and spoke, “Ava, it's gonna take a hell of a lot more than just life to keep me away from you. I am not going anywhere.”

“You say that, but what if—”

“I am not going anywhere, Ava.”

“Okay, but —”

“I could do this all day, Ava. I am not going anywhere.”

She rolled her eyes. As she pulled away from him, she wiped her face from her tears. Maybe life did have a way of giving back. And even though, life had gave her shit for her whole entire existence, maybe in some universal designed fate, life was giving her the gift of love again. And his name was Sam Wilson.

“Well, if that's the case then just know that since you are linking me to you forever, that doesn't mean I’ll go easy on you, Wilson.” she said. He shook his head and laughed. Maybe he was right? Letting him in couldn’t be such a bad idea. “I am known to be pretty grouchy in the mornings when I don’t have my coffee.”

“Noted. That's why I stack up extra coffee beans back at my place.” he laughed. “I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “I love you more.” He smiled at her. Before she could say anything, he walked over a table just across from them. She didn’t realize it earlier, but he had a big brown bag that he propped on the table.

He placed the bag on the table that she finished cleaning. “So since you really didn’t get a chance to properly celebrate Thanksgivings, I figured I would bring a piece of it to you.” he said. He pulled out two plastic containers along with utensils. “Marge told me you like pumpkin pie, so I managed to get the last two pieces from that diner up the street.”

She laughed. From that moment, she made a mental note to take the time out to thank Marge for the many facts that she managed to learn about her. “Marge knows me well.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Ava. Here’s to many more holidays together.”

“Cheers to that.”

#a marvelous holiday #sam wilson x oc #ava rhodes #otp: love after war #damage control series #sam wilson fic #sam wilson au #marvel au #my edits #my writings

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thecarlonethatalsowrites · 4 years ago

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Hey do you have any advice for writing more intimate things? I don't have a lot of experience with romance and idk what to do to help fix it in my writing.

Hmmm ok yeah this is definitely the weaker part of my own writing but I’ll give you the advice I’ve researched! As with all writing, it’s definitely more difficult to write what you don’t know, But most people don’t do half the stuff they write about. It’s definitely possible to write about experiences you haven’t had, it just takes a little extra research.

First of all, you need to write a solid foundation for the relationship. Give them a reason to be attracted to each other. Maybe they’ve been through so much together their bond has been forged in fire and it slowly develops into something more. Maybe it’s lust at first sight and they can’t help being attracted to each other immediately. Maybe the burning passion of hate turns into something more. Whatever it is, make sure you sprinkle in little hints and pieces throughout the story, not just pulling it out of nowhere when they’re making out or confessing to each other (if you want to go with a character being blindsided by a confession, that’s totally plausible! You can always write a character who is naive to things the audience clearly sees)

The next part is where I always get tripped up, and thats writing about actual feelings themselves. It’s a fine line to walk between being drab and undescriptive verses being bogged down by purple prose. As with all good writing, this is where show don’t tell comes in. Instead of saying “he was excited to see him” try describing the character’s reaction. “His heart sped up when he entered the room and he sat up a little straighter, unconsciously trying to draw his attention, even for an instant.” Your job as a writer is describing this and everything else in an entertaining way. Cliches are fine every once in a while, as long as you put your own spin on it. One thing that’s helped me a ton with writing emotions is using a reasource called The Emotion Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi. They describe so many ways to feel tons of different emotions, and even more. An excellent resource that I cannot recommend enough.

Assuming you’ve put some thought into how you want your characters to get together, the hardest part becomes writing. Here is where I have two pieces of advice. READ what you’re trying to create. If you’re writing a paranormal romance, pick up a novel or a fanfic in that genre. Examine it at an overall, big picture level as well as at a sentence structure level. Study what they do well, what you liked about it. How did they balance the plot with the relationship? How was the characterization? Did the romance come out of nowhere? Did you enjoy how the author crafted the sentences? If you don’t have experience yourself, there are other ways to find it. Studying other authors work is a great way to improve your writing in general, and if you have something specific to look for you’ll likely get more out of the exercise.

Finally, it really just comes down to practice. Writing is a lot of work, and the more you do it the more strategies you’ll figure out. Even if you don’t have an idea for a full story, write down scenes or summaries of scenes as they come to you. Who knows, you might end up with something you can use in a larger project! Starting small is a great way to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed while working on important skills.

I hope this helped at least a little bit! If you have any more questions, feel free to HMU. I hope you can at least take this as a starting point to do you own research, because I am far from an expert. Good luck in your endeavors!!!

#writing advice #my writing #anonymous #answered

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ratchedspeach · 5 years ago

Note

Can you write a one shot about Cat and Jade being cute and in love?

Oh who am I to say no to this! Get ready for fluff with a lil bit of angst (cause I’m still me teehee) … In which Cat hates studying, and Jade has had way too much coffee

La Lune et Les Etoiles

In which Jade is an insanely passionate student, and Cat is not.

She might be the only person Cat knew that loves finals week. Jade sat cross legged on a chair, her purple-streaked curls pulled into a messy ponytail and her eyes trained on the novella La Salle de Bain by Jean-Philippe Toussaint. She had dragged Cat there to help her do research for their French final, which Cat had agreed to after enough threats to her immediate bodily safety from her morbid but mostly harmless friend. Cat hated finals - hated school in general, really, which only made her hate being in the Hollywood Arts High School’s surprisingly dull library past 1:00 in the morning on a Friday night that much more.

“Are you planning on actually reading it?” Jade inquired, taking a sip from her fourth cup of coffee since they’d been there, but never looking up from her own book.

Cat looked at the book in her own hands - Dans La Café de la Jeunesse Perdue by Patrick Modiano. They were comparing the dichotomy of French gender roles throughout the decades by analyzing famous philosophic, literary works. It had been Jade’s idea, obviously, and Cat had only gone along when she’d finally promised that she would write the paper on her own if she would agree to at least help with research.

“It’s in French.” Cat pouted, bending the corners of a few delicate pieces of paper with her index finger.

That got Jades attention. She peaked her eyes out from behind her already half-finished book, quirking an eyebrow. “So?”

“I speak English.”

“Cat, the project is for our French class.” Jade addressed, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach when she realized she knew exactly where this conversation was going.

Cat nodded, adding an airy “yeah.”

“We ... It’s supposed to be in French.” Jade folded the corner of her page down before placing the book on the desk separating the two of them. “Can you ... do you not ... Cat, please tell me you can actually speak - oh forget it.” She placated, bringing her thumb and index finger to clamp down on the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry,” Cat spilled, “I tried to tell you that I wasn’t very good at this.”

“Cat,” Jade cautioned, her eyes burning with an amalgam of frustration, and what Cat could only explain as ... humor...? “this is an upper level literature course. One of the requirements is speaking French. How did you even get in!?”

It earned them a hush from the librarian, which earned her Jade’s loudest, most melodramatic groan. This was all just getting to be a little too cliche for her. She had agreed to be partners with the red head because out of everyone in that class, she was the person that Jade hated the least. She had known that it would mean doing the bulk of the work - not because she thought Cat wasn’t smart; as a matter of fact when she applied herself, Jade was often shocked at what the girl had to say. No, rather she knew because she had seen Cat’s performance throughout the semester, thus knew how much she struggled with the language. She just ... hadn’t realized the full extent of it.

Cat bit her lip, averting her own gaze from the brooding girl across from her. “You sounded excited when I said I was gonna be in it. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Okay, first of all, nothing excites me.” Jade griped, ignoring the color that rose in her pale cheeks. “And second of all, I wouldn’t have told you to take it if I knew you couldn’t actually speak French!”

Cat’s usually sunny features drew into a childish glower. “You were excited.”

“Excitement is for man children.”

“Sikowitz is always excited.”

“Point and case.” She gloated with a smirk.

Jade could hold a grudge against anyone, but when she harrumphed softly, crossing her pink sweater adorned arms across of her stomach, her smiled tugged a little harder at the corners of her mouth. There was no use being angry with Cat - it was like trying to be upset with rain for falling - it didn’t know better, and neither did she.

“Look, it’s fine.” Jade sighed, rolling her eyes and pulling her hair out of the ponytail. “I’ll do the project, and Mme. Chopain doesn’t need to know a thing. I promise.”

Jade tossed her now loose curls over her left shoulder, bringing her fingers to massage the roots of her hair and tussle them softly. Cat watched, her warm caramel eyes fixed on they way her fingers skillfully moved through her dark locks. It did not go unnoticed by the goth, who felt something in her stomach flutter. She took a deep breath, pulling her fingers out of her hair and bringing both hands to cup her now lukewarm coffee mug. The library had a small vending machine which dispensed one dollar cups of the stuff, and while it wasn’t to the standard of the countless artisanal shops in the LA area, it was enough to keep her wired, and that’s all Jade really cared about.

“Thank you.” Cat intoned, the last of her pout melting away back into a sheepish smile.

Jade watched the redhead, a flash of something warm streaking through her eyes before they settled into her usual, deliberate glare. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment as though she were about to say something, before shrugging slightly and burying her nose back in the text.

“What?” Cat queried, leaning in across the desk and placing her chin gently on her folded arms.

Jade bristled slightly. “Nothing.” She snapped. “I’m just stressed now, that’s all.”

The other girl studied her for a moment, because it wasn’t anger she sensed in her. It was … something else. Cat worried her bottom lip between her teeth, continuing to examine Jade, who had noticed her interested, which only made the color in her cheeks rise further.

“You’re being weird.” Cat noticed airily, twisting a few pieces of hair between her fingers.

Jade’s brow furrowed. “I am not!” She exclaimed, earning her another shush from the after-hours librarian. “Shush me again, and I’ll strangle you with your dollar store wig!”

They were kicked out of the library immediately, much to Cat’s delight. The Hollywood Arts parking lot stretched drearily in front of them - a fresh blanket of mist causing it to glint in the early morning light. Cat checked her pear phone for the time. 3:13 a.m. She rubbed at her eyes before glancing at Jade, who was rummaging through her cluttered backpack for the keys to her yellow VW Bug (It would never not make Cat giggle a little to see the otherwise monochrome girl in her all-too vibrant, all-too girlie car).

“I can drive you home if you want.” Cat offered as Jade threw her bag on the ground in a fit of frustration and what she could only assume was coffee-induced adrenaline.

Jade didn’t respond. It was now her turn to press the palms of either hand to her eyes, heaving a low sigh as she sat on the curb, her legs stretched onto the empty street. Cat bit the inside of her cheek, uncertain of whether that was supposed to be a yes or a get the hell out of here. She chose to assume the former, mimicking the other girl’s movement, and sitting delicately next to her. Jade shifted slightly as she felt her friends hip graze her own when she sat down.

Cat noticed.

“Planning on sleeping here?” She asked, only half joking, before adding, “I think my cot is still in the attic.”

Jade smiled softly. “Well I can’t sleep.” She admonished, pulling her hair back into the ponytail she had started the night in. “Too much coffee. So I might as well…”

“What?”

Jade shrugged, but didn’t respond, because honestly, she wasn’t sure. She was too tired to study, and too wired on black coffee to sleep. She hadn’t planned on getting kicked out of the library. Come to think of it, she hadn’t exactly planned on doing the work of a two-person AP French Lit exam all on her own. Jade felt the tension in her chest grow as her breath hitching dangerously in her throat, and apparently so did Cat, because before she could process what was happening, the redhead was pulling her head onto her shoulder, stroking the goth’s hair, and apologizing.

“I should’ve told you I couldn’t speak French.” Cat whispered.

She smelled like a mix of peppermint and lavender, and it made whatever anxiety was bubbling in Jade’s stomach almost completely disappear. “It’s ok.” She whispered as her breath came back to even. “I should’ve known better than to think you did.”

Cat giggled, and Jade matched her, pulling her head off of her shoulder to meet her gaze. Their laughs dissipated into a heavy silence. Cat watched as Jade’s smile fell into an uncertain glower, the light behind her eyes glinting with a mixture of deviance and … could that be … Is she scared? Cat thought, before something flared in her mind.Oh shit. Am I? Cat thought she should look away - thought that holding the gaze of her fickle friend could only lead to empty, but still terrifying threats of violence. She knew Jade.

Or … so she thought.

It caught her completely off-guard, therefore, when what came from Jade’s lips wasn’t incitements of bodily harm, when it wasn’t anything coming from them at all, but when it was just … her lips - soft, and gentle, and tasting of rose-tinted lip balm. Cat’s eyes went wide for a moment before a flood of warmth starting from her mouth and radiated through her body, and her eyes closed and she just reveled in it. They sat like that for a moment, Cat’s arms coming across Jade’s shoulders, and Jade’s awkwardly at her side as though she still wasn’t sure if she was allowed to touch the redhead.

The kiss lasted no more than a minute. Jade was the one to start it and to end it - pulling away with her eyes still closed like she couldn’t believe that she had just … that she …

“Shit.” Jade breathed, alarm sounding through her entire body.

Cat watched her, the fingers of her left hand coming up to touch her now lips in disbelief, wide-eyed, and still warm, and wishing that she could kiss her again. “That was …”

“Shit.”

They looked at each other for a moment longer before a smile pinched the dimples on Cat’s cheeks, and Jade’s heart fluttered desperately. It scared Cat a little to see her so uncertain, because it was the very opposite of the behavior that she had come to expect from the brooding teen. She placed her fingertips on the pavement, allowing them to brush against Jade’s, and watching as her lips pursed into a tentative smile that resembled more of a smirk.

“I didn’t know you were …” Cat trailed off when the dark haired girl shook her head.

“I … didn’t really know either.” She admitted, before adding in flustered babble. “I mean, I knew, I just … I … I hadn’t planned on …”

Jade trailed off, bringing the hand not touching Cat’s to smack her forehead as she continued to fight for the right words. The redhead smiled sheepishly, her chest fluttering as she watched the other girl. The smile fell, though, when she saw the tears rimming her lash line as she desperately tried to blink them away.

“J-Jade…?” Cat pulled her hand fingers to fully lace between her friend’s (if she could still really call her that).

“My parents don’t know.” Jade whispered, sucking in a sharp, shuddered breath.

“Neither do mine.”

“Beck doesn’t know.”

“… oh.” She’d forgotten about him.

They sat in silence for a moment, Jade still holding back tears, and Cat watching her like she might disappear altogether if she so much as blinked. Their fingers stayed entangled, both of them grasping onto the other like it was the only thing grounding them to earth. Jade felt like she was flying as the mixture of angst and utter joy jumbled in the pit of her stomach. She had never thought about what her first kiss with a girl would be like. She had always known that she wanted to have one, but she hadn’t expected it to be so … gentle, so exquisitely delicate and easy. Jade realized that a large part of that had to do with who she was kissing. Cat - all smiles and sunshine and utter bliss. Jade wished it could be simple, wished so desperately that they could just kiss and have it mean nothing more, but she knew it couldn’t be left at just that. Cat, on the other hand, blinded by her positive (dare Jade say … naive?) outlook on the world, was over the moon and nothing more. Jade envied her for that.

“There’s a saying in French,” She changed the subject, eyes still fixed on the empty school lot, “la lune et les etoiles tout ensemble.”

Cat had never heard her speak French, and it took her breath away - the way the words flowed and flickered between her teeth, and the expulsion of breath that perfected her accent.

“What does it mean?” She asked blithely.

Jade looked at her, eyes ablaze with too many different things for Cat to comprehend. She wondered how someone could feel so many things at once, how she could fit everything into her slender frame.

“The moon and stars all in one.” Jade smiled faintly, perhaps even a little sadly, before placing her head once more on the other girl’s shoulder.

Cat didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t, welcoming the contact and the warmth that once more radiated throughout her body. They sat like that until dawn, watching the stars fade into the glow of morning, and letting the rest of the world slip away.

At least for a little while.

#you don't know me #nat writes #cat valetine #jade west #victorious #one shot #fanfic #fluff #angst #cade #cat/jade #i loved writing thus #might turn it into a larger fic tbh

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hilllsnholland · 6 years ago

Text

Those Eyes

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Wc: 1.8k

Warnings: none besides swearing? Angsty fluff.

Song: When You Look Me In The Eyes by Jonas Brothers

Summary: Tom misses your eyes.

A/N: This is for @starksparker Jonas Brothers writing challenge and I’ve been stressed about this since the beginning omg. But enjoy this Angsty fluff/Fluffy angst

The buzzing in Tom’s ear would not stop. It had been hours since he stood on the stage to promote Far From Home, and all he wanted was sleep. It was 2 a.m. and the T.V. was playing Friends reruns but was on mute. Tom sighed again, rolling over in his bed for the hundredth time. He could not sleep. He couldn’t even close his eyes. His mind and body ached for you. It had been two months since he left to promote the film and he was not accommodating well.

The first week started out fine. He was able to get through the day just of the thought of you. Tom had texted and called whenever he had the chance and you made the time to FaceTime him with the time difference. But after a few more weeks it felt like hell. Tom was starved for your touch and he couldn’t stop thinking of the last time he had you in his arms.

___ “You’re squeezing me.” You laughed into his chest.

Tom loosened his grip but kept his head rested on yours, kissing your hair periodically. People rushed by them as they hurried to TSA, his castmates and assistant were waiting for him on the other side so they could board the plane together. Tom didn’t care though, he needed every last second with you.

“I’m gonna miss you, love.” Tom murmured again and again.

“You’re going to miss your flight.” You sighed but didn’t leave his arms.

Tom knew that. He was dreading the count down until he had to leave. He only had about ten more minutes until they would leave without him. You pull from his embrace a bit, your hands still locked around his neck, and looked him in the eyes. Just the look of your eyes comforted him. They were sincere as always, and they gave him hope. Hope that these months would go by fast and the two of you would be together again. Three months without your eyes, your hands, your presence, was going to be a nightmare.

“I wish you would come with me.” His voice is soft as he brushes your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I know, but I can’t just leave work.” You sigh and pull him close again. “I’ll be waiting for you handsome.”

Tom looked into your beautiful eyes and softened again. For a moment there was no planes, no passing people, not even another soul on this planet. He was stuck in your heavenly gaze, drunk with the love you gave him. Tom didn’t even speak, he just stared and memorized every part of your face.

“Are you okay?” You shift but Tom stops you from moving, dipping his head to kiss you once more.

“When you look me in the eyes, Y/N, it’s hard to leave. I just want to remember this feeling.”

You nod, knowing exactly what he meant. His eyes were the only thing that could calm you down in moments of stress. His eyes reminded you of home, where you felt loved and savored by the man of your dreams. Tom leans down to kiss you one last time, the timer on his phone blowing up to tell him it’s time to go or get left behind. The kiss was short, too short for your liking, and both of your faces fell. Tom bowed his head, whispering one more ‘I love you’ and then grabbed his things to leave.

___ That moment was burned into his mind every time he tried to sleep. It was hard, he had nothing but pictures of you to keep him company. Even the calls and FaceTimes were empty because he didn’t physically have you. He wished to have your hair tickling his face while you slept in his arms. He wished to have you there as his inspiration, the thing that drives him to be better and stronger. Without you, it felt useless. It felt like nothing could convince to give more than the baseline of zero.

This made the next day of promotion hard. Not only did he only sleep barely two hours, but he was drained emotionally. You couldn’t find the time to call him in the morning so he went attention starved all day. Tom could barely keep his energy up in the interviews, which caused many of the interviewers to question his late night activities.

“Are you tired from partying?” One laughed. “I bet a guy like you loses sleep when away with all the parties and women.”

“No,” Tom was short as he shook his head at the comment. “Just homesick. I’m missing my girl a lot today.”

That would surely disrupt the internet when that was posted, but Tom was telling the truth. The reason why he was acting so strange was that you were consuming his mind. All he could think of was your laugh and your quirky humor that could make anyone crack a smile. Tom went through the whole day consumed by you until he went to the Green Room before he had to do more interviews. Tom trudged into the room, sighing audibly as he took a seat in the chair and tried to relax. It wasn’t long until another person entered the room, gaining his attention and surprise. Tom jumps up to his feet and greets Harrison.

“S’up mate!” Harrison laughs as he brings Tom into a hug.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tom felt uneasy, he was happy to see his best friend but it didn’t alleviate the homesickness that was in his heart.

“I wanted to surprise you? Disappointed?”

Tom shakes his head and laughs. Well, he wished it was you. He loves Harrison, but only you could fix the pain that was crushing him. Tom sits with Harrison, talking about all the funny things that have happened on the press tour and Harrison telling stories back home. It felt normal for a second, all he needed was Tessa and a beer and it would be like old times.

“How’s...how’s Y/N doing?” Tom says after a long laugh. “I know she’s busy with school and that’s why she couldn’t come but is she doing alright while I’m gone?”

Harrison gives Tom a pitiful look, shaking his head. The only person who knew Tom better than you was Harrison, and he could tell Tom has fallen apart. Tom could fake that he was okay to strangers, but Harrison saw the weak smile and the bags under his eyes.

“She’s a mess dude. She’s always talking about you and she came over one night crying because she couldn’t spend another night in your flat without you.”

That destroyed him. All his hope was that you were doing fine, keeping spirits alive while he was away. But that was not the case, the two of you were a mess without each other. Maybe that’s why you had always said you were each other's soulmates. The two of you couldn’t even go a few weeks without each other before turning into mush.

“I’ve been the same. I don’t know if I can ever leave her again after this. It feels like I’m actually dying without her here. Is that crazy?” Harrison shrugs.

“I think you are just two idiots in love.” He laughs. “Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t go all sappy on me while I’m gone okay?”

Tom rolls his eyes, flipping Harrison off as he leaves the room. Tom sits back in his seat, hands folded in his lap while he thinks about what Harrison said. Yeah, the two of you were idiots in love, the two of you are unable to take care of yourselves without the other. He hated being so dependent, but it was more than that. It was the fact that he didn’t have anything to do more for, he didn’t have to be funny because you weren’t going to laugh at his joke. He didn’t have to be looking his best because he didn’t have you to compliment or impress. It was a low point, a depression brought on the loss of you. You weren’t gone, but your constant sunshine to his life was. Didn’t matter if the two of you were in fact still together, you two were not together in the spacial sense and it hurt. The door creaks open and Tom doesn’t look up.

“You back to tease me some more?” Tom laughs and looks up.

Tom almost stops breathing. Quite honestly, he thought he was going to collapse from shock. There you were, standing in the doorway with Harrison, a big stupid grin on his stupid face. Tears were streaming down your face because at heart, you were a little baby when it came to things like this. Tom shakily stands up, mouth agape as he motions his hands at Harrison. The two of you don’t move though, you’re both so overwhelmed with emotions that it felt like there was still thousands of miles between you.

“How? What?”

“Don’t just stand there! Kiss the fucking girl!” Harrison throws his arms up.

Tom runs up to you, grabbing your face in his hand and kissing you as passionately as he could. This kiss put the others to shame, especially the one before he got on the plane to leave you. Your lips still felt the same, you tasted the same, but it was different. It was the breath of fresh air he needed to feel like himself again. It was as if the moment he saw you he had metamorphosed into the man you saw before the airport. The smile on his face was bright, he was full of energy, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off of yours.

“Your eyes,” Tom sighs “Every time I look you in the eyes, I feel like I’m home.” He whispers to you so that Harrison can’t hear anything but murmurs. “I’ve been in the dark since the day I left and now that you’re here,” Tom laughs at his own cliches. “You make that disappear and I feel like it’ll be okay. You’re my light, like heaven Y/N.”

The tears kept coming as he spoke, your words caught in your throat. You nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes and smiling through the flood of emotions. Tom kept his hands around your face, staring into your eyes as if to make sure this wasn’t some dream. You were really there, in front of him and in his grasp.

“I love you,” You cry.

“I love you too.”

Tom kisses you again, forgetting that Harrison was standing a foot away with a smug grin. He had this planned out for weeks, knowing he’d get his two friends to act like a bunch of lovesick kids.

“A thank you is appreciated you know.” Harrison winks at them as he flops on the couch.

Tom ignores him though, just for now he wanted to focus on you. Your figure, your smile, and your eyes. Those fucking eyes, the ones that kept him sane and the ones that felt like home. In those eyes, he saw his future, what lies farther than the hurt that was crushing him for weeks on end. He saw you, the love his life, and the beautiful paradise of life the two of you can make together. Tom smiles, kissing you again, thanking God for giving you those eyes.

///

Taglist: @mrs-hollandstan /@dangerousluv1 / @lovelyh0lland / @laureharrier / @stylemute / @captainbuckyy / @thelazypangolin /

#kaylees jonas brothers wc #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland oneshot #Tom Holland fanfic #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland angst #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland x you #Tom Holland song fic #Tom Holland headcanon #Tom Holland #writing challenge #marvel fanfiction

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sugamoonv · 6 years ago

Text

How Rude

Like A Mate Should

Summary: Namjoon and Jin see you being attacked as a godsend. You see it your attack and meeting them as a series of unfortunate events. How unfortunate that you’re their mate.

Pairings: established NamJin / Namjin x Reader

Word Count: 3,360

Masterlist > Next

“What do you mean you’ve never met a werewolf!?”

You were sitting at a round table with a few of your friends. Some eating as a few dishes took longer to cook in the restaurant. You saw each other a lot since you were the same major and thus shared multiple classes and so had made it a thing to eat lunch together after class.

You shrugged and swirled the straw around in your glass of water with your tongue. Your friend, [F/N], stared at you with wide eyes and shook her head in disbelief causing you to laugh and abandon your drink. “What do you want me to tell you? My childhood was very sheltered. My mom didn’t trust them.”

“And what about you?” one of the girls was watching you with a scrutinizing gaze. She was already on edge with the liberal use of werewolf because while it wasn’t considered a slur, it was seen as ignorant and derivative. Shifter was the technical term. Her minor was in Hybrid Law and shifters fell under the umbrella of hybrids since they were cousins to the wolf hybrid. It was highly debated in the field whether shifters were bred from wolf hybrids or if wolf hybrids came from shifters. Experimenting was illegal since they were part human, so it was all theoretical.

You shrugged again, “I don’t know I’ve never met one. At least I don’t think I have? I mean I don’t have any reason to hate them or anything.”

This must have been an adequate enough answer because she went back to her garden salad. You were finally allowed to eat as your usual plate was placed in front of you and the topic shifted off of you back to class.

One by one, everyone at the table paid their portion of the check and packed their food to leave. Two girls shared the same class and so they had to leave right after lunch and everyone else used them leaving as a leeway to leave themselves. Talk about plans of going to the library, dorm, or gym filled the air as chairs were pushed in and backpacks were slung over shoulders.

You waved as you departed in the opposite direction as everyone. [F/N] walked alongside you. You both got caught up in idle chit chat when your shoulder was roughly shoved causing you to half spin to face a man. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your friend to begin walking away. After crossing the road, you glanced back to see the man standing in the same spot you left him with a confused scowl on his face but when he sensed you looking, he looked up from the ground, turned, and began walking again.

You focused back on what your friend was saying with a confused roll of your eyes at the man's strange behavior.

“So I got a date…” you look at her expectantly and grin when you see her eyes light up. After being turned down at a party some time ago and whining about it to her for a couple weeks, she forced you into a dating app. Not to find true love but to have distractions. And if you found true love then that was an added bonus. Her words.

You breathily laughed, “And before you offer to help because I know you're obsessed with those outfit montages they do in movies,” you teasingly point to her, “I already have an outfit picked out and I can handle doing my own makeup.”

“What about your hair?” she raises her eyebrows at you.

“My hair is fine,” you lightheartedly defend yourself, “I don’t want to do anything to it because they’re taking me on a picnic and it’s supposed to be windy that day.”

The wind howled as it whipped your hair about. You cursed yourself for cutting it as it was now too short for you to tie it back but long enough to keep getting in your face. You dramatically pushed another strand out of your eyes and your date laughed at you from their spot on the blanket. A cliche wicker basket full of safe lunch food sat in between you and plastic cups of cheap, sparkling wine was balancing on the ground next to you.

The sun beat down on you. Sitting in the warmth felt heavenly but the hike to the field felt like pure torture. You almost sprained your ankle twice on the rocky trail in the flimsy sandals you paired with the sundress. It was annoying that your date had walked ahead of you the whole time but now that you were sitting, you quickly brushed it off.

“So....what major are you?” you asked the question to break the awkward silence.

Your date seemed to be too nervous to initiate any conversation, but once they were given a prompt, they immediately delved into what they wanted to do with their life and all the things about their major that they’re passionate about. Which would have been nice if you understood a lick of what they were saying. To you, it all sounded like jargon, especially since they jumped into complex topics rather than briefly explaining the basics. It also didn’t help that they spoke while eating so instead of focusing on the words they were saying, all you could focus on was the lip-smacking.

They cleared their throat and took another large bite of their ham sandwich. You glanced at your own paper plate of food in disinterest and slightly pushed it away from you. You sat waiting for them to ask you the same question if not something else but were left hanging as they finished their sandwich and began making another.

You sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity when your date suddenly stood up and brushed their hands together to knock of crumbs. “I really have to go to the bathroom.” They strangely bent their wrist back to point at the line of trees circling the clearing and you nodded. They were halfway to the trees when you looked at their empty cup then the bottle of wine consecutively. Nearly three-quarters of it was gone. Your cup was still half full from when they first opened the bottle.

You gave your date extra time because peeing in the woods wasn’t as convenient as a regular bathroom. But then 10 minutes passed, then 15, then 20, and after 25 minutes you knew they weren’t coming back. Whether that was because they had gotten lost or ditched you was the question.

You abandoned the basket of food and left in the same direction your date went. You should have been sensible and only walked in far enough to still see the clearing, but you stupidly kept venturing further into the woods. Looking either for your date or the path they used to escape. After a few minutes of walking and finding nothing, you turned back to the direction you thought you came from. But after walking a few minutes back to the clearing and seeing no signs of it, panic grew in your chest.

The spot you were taken to had immediately blocked you from getting service. You switched your phone to battery saver mode and pushed back tears before turning and retracing your steps. From the time on your phone, you estimated that you had been wandering around the woods for around an hour.

The more time passed, the more panicked your breathing became as you grew more and more certain that you were officially lost. The ground betrayed you with its soft appearance of dewy leaves, soft dirt, and sporadic patches of grass. What you found that the soil and leaves were hiding sharp rocks and twisted roots from your view and now you were carrying your broken sandals in your right hand. Your dirt covered feet padded along the earth, careful to sense where best to step.

The shadows that came with afternoon began stretching past you. Goosebumps formed your arms in the cool shade. The woods seemed darker than they did at the entrance and the birds didn’t chirp as loudly here. The hair on the back of your neck raised as your body instinctively began scouting for danger in the unmarked territory.

Your frustration quickly transformed into fear as a loud snap sounded from behind you. Then another, and another, and another, each one louder than the last. Your feet carried you away from the source, a quick walk then a full sprint as the snapping behind you picked up the pace with you.

Flashes of red and black flanked your sides as you ran, slowly inching diagonally towards you to cut you off. You pushed your foot into the earth and took off in the opposite direction and while it gave you a second ahead of them, their reflexes were far better than yours and you found yourself in the same situation.

You could feel the heavy thuds of the wolves paws against the soil as they got close enough from you. One wolf moved behind you and its footprints fully replaced yours with their own. The skin on your arms burned from the blood flow and a sharp pang restricted your already heavy panting.

Just as the wolf on your side made a move to knock into you, another wolf smaller than the wolf chasing you smashed into its chest and they became a flurry of black and reddish black fur and teeth.

The wolf behind you saw that it no longer had the opportunity to have fun with the chase as it and its’ partner had visitors. The wolf lunged forward and an intense pain shot up your leg as its teeth pierced your ankle. With the wolf having a hold of your ankle, you lost your balance and only when you harshly landed on your stomach, did the wolf release you to stumble forward before you caught yourself.

Ignoring your ankle, you scrambled back to your feet but once standing, the wolf rammed its shoulder into your body and you were forced back into the dirt. Stars filled your vision as you were thrown about and your body didn’t have enough time to pump blood to where it needed to go.

The wolf lurked so it was standing above you looking down at you. You blinked rapidly and your body froze as you locked eyes with the dark red canine eyes. Its lips slowly turned up into a snarl and you were introduced to the large, pointed teeth. Just as you thought this would be the end of you, the wolf was yanked off of you by another wolf that too was smaller.

This wolf may have been smaller than the black wolf it was fighting, but you could tell that it held more power that it appeared it did. The black wolf was quickly pinned to the ground by the chestnut brown wolf where its’ teeth locked into their neck. Every time the back wolf attempted to move, the brown wolf you give a vicious shake of its head and push the wolf down.

Two hands suddenly appeared under your arms as they scooped you up. As they brought you to stand on your feet, you accidentally put weight on your injured ankle causing your legs to fold under you with a yelp. Luckily, the person behind you was quick to react and caught you before you hit the ground. You tried to look behind you to see who was holding you up but a crick in your neck told you it was a bad idea and so you just kept your eyes forward.

The brown wolf gave one last shake, yanking the black wolf around before it backed off and gave a threatening growl. The black wolf sprang to its feet and ran off. Once it was some ways away, you heard a howl and another wolf joining in, you assumed it was the other that was chasing you. The brown wolf faced you and your nails dug into the arm of the person behind you. You pushed against the person’s chest but for some reason, they refused to move.

You could swear that the eyes of the wolf were human and were staring at you with sympathy. You held your breath as you waited for this wolf to take its turn attacking you but instead, it took a few step backs. The sound of bones snapping made your stomach churn as you gaped at the wolf slowly transforming into a human. When a human man, naked as the day he was born, was standing in front of you with the same colored hair atop his head as his wolf counterpart, black spots filled your vision and you slumped in the arms of the stranger.

“I’m telling you, this is the girl I ran into two days ago.”

“Taehyung, stop. You’re going to hurt her!”

“Stop, I’m not going to hurt your mate.”

“Taehyung, get out.”

The loud slam of a door jolted you awake and you opened your eyes to see two men surrounding the bed your on. One is tending to your leg and the other is sitting by your head and drops your hand once he sees your eyes are open.

“Jin.” the man draws the attention of the one tending to you to your state.

This Jin has black hair and soft, plump facial features with broad shoulders while the other man is thinner and most likely taller. The other man has silver hair and a weaker jawline than his counterpart though it’s still noticeable. Something about the man is familiar to you but you can’t quite put your finger on why nor do you have the time to.

Jin looks up to you while you scoot yourself back. He gives you a large smile that makes you question whether you’ll be leaving this place alive. Noticing your discomfort, Jin drops his smile with an embarrassed chuckle and clears his throat.

“I noticed your ankle got hurt. I was bandaging it wi-”

“Where am I?” you rudely cut Jin off and scoot further away onto the bed away from him.

His lips part in shock and he glances at the other man before looking back at you. He sputters, “You- um, you’re at, um, well it’s a- our,” Jin tries to explain your location with various gestures and eventually looks to the other man for help.

“This is our cabin. We found you a couple miles away from us and you didn’t look to be in good shape, so we brought you here.” He stares at you for a few moments before seemingly shouting, “I’m Namjoon, by the way,” and nervously laughing.

You disregard Namjoon by looking back to Jin. Your eyes flicker as you connect the dots in your head.

“The werewolf,” you whisper. Your head shoots to Namjoon then back to Jin. “I was attacked by two werewolves. Then there were two other werewolves. I saw one shift right in front of me.” Your eyes widen, “Was there someone with me? There was someone else that was with me. Are they okay?”

You keep your wide eyes on Jin waiting for answers. Your eyes are brought to Namjoon as he comfortingly takes your hand. Or at least tries to because to pull yourself away from him. Namjoon uncomfortably laughs and apologizes to hide the pang of rejection.

“That was Jimin and he’s fine. He helped bring you here.”

“He brought....You’re all werewolves.” You eyeball Namjoon with your eyebrows slightly pinched. You catch Jin flinching in your peripheral vision but Namjoon confidently holds your gaze.

You swing your feet onto the wood floor and stand from the bed which causes Jin to panic and runs around the bed to you. He lightly puts his hands on your shoulders to push you back onto the bed but you slap his hands away from him and limp past him.

Jin follows right behind you and reaches out to grab your upper arm, “Wait, wait, wait. You can’t be on your ankle. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Namjoon calmly stands and walks to you and Jin. There’s something profound lurking in Namjoon’s now darkened eyes. Something you have yet to understand. So you yank open the door, nearly hitting Jin in the face and startling some other man that had his ear pressed to the door. You step over the man on the floor and continue to walk away from Namjoon and Jin. Or at least you try to.

By the time you reach the end of the hall, you're using the wall for support and you feel the bandage around your ankle grow wet with your wound beginning to bleed again. The sight of blood sends Jin into a new frenzy and he begins to frantically beg you to go back to the bed, carry you, or even just sit on the floor so he can care for you. He keeps reaching out to you, but his hands stop just short to touching you as so far you’ve expressed your disdain to personal contact. And making you more upset at him is the last thing Jin wants to do, especially since that means you’ll reject him helping you like he should. Like a mate should.

There are three more men watching you leave a trail of blood to the door. None of them look like the man that shifted in front of you.

Right as you reach what you think is the front door, a hand drags you back by your shoulder. You stumble back and nearly lose your balance but Jin is there to catch you. He angrily scolds Namjoon before turning to you as your face is scrunched in pain.

Namjoon taps Jin out of the way to step in front of you. “You’re injured and don’t know where you are. Realistically, how far do you think you’ll get?”

You gawk at the silver-haired man, “How dare you put your hands on me like that!” You shove against Namjoon’s chest creating some distance between your bodies. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You have absolutely no right to keep me here. If I want to leave, I’m going to leave. It shouldn’t concern you how far I’ll get, I can handle myself.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenches and he meets you glare with one as equally angry. “Fine,” he waves a hand to the door, “go then. But first, you might want to clean up your puddle of blood.”

You look down to your feet to see that you are in fact, standing in a pool of your own blood. While you were yelling at Namjoon, you had shifted your weight to both of your feet equally. You hadn’t even realized you had been bleeding this much.

“Enough!” Jin steps in between you and Namjoon. He looks at both of you with a harsh glare but his gaze promptly softens on you.

“I know you want to leave and no one is stopping you, but you honestly won’t last long with that ankle.” Jin softly explains to you. “Let me take care of you for a few days and take time to heal and then one of us will lead you back to the city. I promise we won’t hurt you.”

You blink at Jin then glance around the room to see all the faces staring at you. A blush forms on your cheek and you shift your weight back onto your good ankle. You mull over all the different ways staying with Namjoon and Jin could go before you finally nod your head. Jin lets out a sigh of relief and moves to lift you, but you shake your head at him. You begin limping back to the room with Jin walking alongside you, arms stretched out, prepared for you to slip at any moment.

Well, it looks like you’re going to be staying with the very creatures you were raised to distrust. This could only go so well.

Permanent Tag: @detectivebourbon @eshika0102 @omgsuperstarg

#Namjin #poly bts #poly bts x reader #namjin x reader #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #bts werewolf au #werewolf bts #werewolf bts x reader #shifter bts #shifter bts x reader #namjoon #namjoon x jin #jin #rm #seokjin #bts fic #like a mate should #sugamoonv

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childotkw · 5 years ago

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Can you give us tips to write better?

Okay, here goes. This will be a big one, just a warning.

Writing is, in my opinion, a craft that you can never fully, truly master. It’s an ever-evolving thing, and no matter where you are sitting as a writer–whether it’s your first time actually giving it a shot, whether you are young and feel like you haven’t experienced life enough to write, or you are a published author with multiple awards to your name–you can always, and will, get better.

Writing is a skill, which is a fact that I feel some people either misunderstand, or simply don’t realise. No one is born a writer. It’s something you pick up along the way because you like it. Sure, there might be some people who just seem ‘naturally’ gifted at writing, people that are just inherently creative and have a knack for putting words together in a certain way that resonates with people.

But no matter how amazing an author is, I guarantee you, that somewhere they’ve got a story stashed that they wrote when they were five, or seven, or eleven, or however many years old, that just makes them cringe. I’m taking a full-bodied, head-ducked, face-creased cringe. A story that they view as an embarrassment to the world and would honestly die if anyone read it. Everyone has one, and if they say they don’t, they’re smart enough to lie about it, so that no one tries to find it.

Mine was something that I wrote when I was in primary school, so around the 10-11 age. I had to do it for a test, and it was awful. God, just thinking about it now makes my soul shrivel a little bit. It was about some astronauts that went to Mars, and encountered hostile aliens. It had every cliche you can think of stuffed into it, filled with over-the-top drama, and weak characters, and dialogue that was so stilted and robotic it makes me cry.

I found it the other day when I was cleaning out my room and decided to read through it–and I was torn between face-palming at how bad I was, and smiling fondly, because no matter how terrible I thought it was–it was one of the first stories I had ever written, and it showed me just how far I have come since then.

What I’m trying to say is that everyone started somewhere, and no matter how ‘terrible’ you think you might be at writing, you can always, always, get better. Writing takes perseverance and passion, so as long as you have that drive to improve, you’re already on the right track.

Now, onto your actual question anon, I can’t give any specific pointers on how you personally can improve, because I don’t know how you write, and it would be arrogant and patronising of me to assume your skill level. I’m still a fledgling writer myself, and while I’m certainly honoured that you consider me good enough to ask advice from, I can’t promise that what I say will work for you. Everyone’s different, and writers more so than most.

But I’m more than happy to share some things that I use to keep myself motivated, or to improve my own techniques and style. Be prepared for an essay, my dear, and be warned that some points might overlap or be in a weird order. I just wrote them down as they came to me.

READ

I can’t stress this enough. If you want to get better as a writer, read. Read fanfictions, read novels, read poems and screenplays and whatever else you want. There’s no such thing as a writer who doesn’t read. Reading is a way for you to expand upon your understanding of writing in general, it teaches you different tricks and trades that makes everything flow better. Reading gives you a broader foundation from which to build your own skills on. I spend a significantly larger portion of my time reading other people’s stories than I do writing my own. It gives you perspective and guidance.

RESEARCH

If you are going to write a story that’s got any significant sort of plot points or grounding in actual reality, you need to have your facts straight. If you’re writing a period-based piece, make sure what you’re writing about is historically accurate for that time. If you’re writing a fanfiction based in someone else’s world (i.e. Harry Potter, Naruto, BNHA), then make sure that the rules you write within that world either adhere to the pre-existing ones, or are fleshed out enough to work. If you are writing a completely new story, with a new world and new rules, then make sure you don’t contradict yourself. Treat your new world as something that’s always existed. Research similar ideas and see how other authors handled certain aspects. Are you making a completely new religion for this world, are there gods? Are you dealing with magic, if so, what are the rules? Angels and demons, what are their powers? Research is key. Know what you’re talking about.

DON’T JUST WRITE

This might seem strange, but don’t just write. Have other creative outlets. Try drawing. Try digital design. Make a game. Do something other than writing to keep your brain from not exhausting itself on one medium. Be creative, don’t limit yourself, expand your skills. I help my mother with digital design and I’m a gaming student, so I make assets and levels. It’s a great way to keep yourself from burning out.

DON’T FORCE IT

Writing is not easy, and there will be some days where the words just don’t want to come. That’s fine. Don’t force yourself to write if it’s not coming to you. All you’ll end up doing is taking yourself down a road of frustration and anger. Just leave it for a bit and come back to it, or jump to another, easier section. Don’t push too hard.

TAKE BREAKS

Very similar to the above point. Take breaks. Take regular breaks. Take a few days off. Take a week off. Hell, take a whole month off if you need it. You need down-time, so give it to yourself. And don’t feel guilty about it either. Writing takes time, and if you are going at it 24/7, all you will do is turn something you love into something you hate because it’s all you ever do.

HAVE INSPIRATION

Some people make mood boards with themes and pictures that represent what they want. Some people just have aspirations or idols they want to live up to. A published author you admire, or you a novel you want to complete, or just that one fanfiction idea you really want to take a crack at. Have a goal of some sort, it will help keep you motivated and focussed if you’re actively working towards something. For me, I want to have a published book under my name within the next two years.

SUPPORT

Have people you can talk to. Even just that one person you can prattle to about your ideas. I have my sister and my mum that let me throw ideas at them and help me flesh out plot points. Have someone that encourages you and supports you.

STAY ORGANISED

Write your ideas down. Doesn’t matter if they are just little snippets or novel-length story ideas. Write something down so it’s not sitting in your head cluttering things up. Or if you are like me, then just keep your story ideas organised and know how to shut them out so you can focus on your current project.

FRUSTRATION

It’s perfectly fine to get frustrated when you’re writing. If you don’t get frustrated, either you are some form of deity that doesn’t experience human emotions or you are so far above me. The most important thing about getting frustrated though, is don’t be too hard on yourself. Don’t get angry at yourself, because that is a slippery slope to go down. Work through it in a constructive way.

PREPARATION

Be diligent with your work. Know what you want to write, have something planned. Know who your characters are, what their dreams are, their personalities and history. Know what your plot is; it doesn’t have to be all of it, but at least know the critical turning points of your story. The more you know about your story, the more well-rounded it will read, and the more intriguing it will be to your audience.

WORLDBUILDING

In terms of worldbuilding, remember that your story is only a small drop of a larger world. Even if it never makes it into the story itself, the more you understand the elements that are happening in the background of your story (i.e. the religions of the world you’ve created, the gods that exist, the politics, the hierarchy, the science or magic), the better it will be for readers, and the easier it will be for you to keep everything neat.

DO OTHER THINGS

Don’t let your writing consume you. Do other things that aren’t related to writing. Go out with friends, go for a walk, go to the beach for a day or to the park. Do things that make you happy, that isn’t writing.

MUSIC

This definitely doesn’t apply to everyone. But for me, music is great background noise. I don’t even listen to the songs I have anymore, I just need something blocking out the rest of the world so I can enter tunnel-vision for my writing sessions. I don’t have a set playlist, I just shuffle all of my songs and write. Listen to whatever works for you. Sometimes I listen to japanese koto music just to shake things up. Go nuts.

PERSISTENT

Be persistent, be fierce, be steadfast with your work. Your story is your idea, it’s yours. Nurture it however you want and don’t let other people try and take control from you. Of course, if you have an editor, listen, but remember it’s still your baby, and you should have the final say on how things proceed.

BE SURPRISED

Sometimes your story will throw you a curveball. Sometimes a random idea will blindside you, and will completely change the end of your story. You don’t always have to stick to your original plot idea. It can change and evolve over time, and it should. If it feels like a natural change, go for it. Don’t be afraid to let your idea grow into something more.

CHARACTERS

Treat your characters as real people. Ask yourself if a real person would talk the way your character talks. Ask what a real person (with the character’s background) would feel in certain circumstances. Give them dreams and aspirations and hopes and relationships. Make them three-dimensional, give them a favourite colour or food, even if you never mention it in the story. The more real they are to you, the more real they will feel to your readers.

PRIDE

Be proud of your work and what you accomplish. Never delete your stories, they let you look back and see how far you’ve come. One of my greatest regrets was when I deleted the first fanfiction I ever wrote because I got some rude comments. Being able to track your progress is one of your best tools, it lets you reflect on your skills in a meaningful way.

CRITICISM

Following on from the previous point, criticism. You need to be prepared for it. There is no way you can avoid criticism as a writer. There will always be people that won’t like what you’ve made, or will potentially try to tear you down. You need to have fortitude to battle through the emotional and mental challenge it can be. You should never let what other people really think get to you, or even better, know how to cut through their words to see what were the issues they had with the story. Sometimes, even the rudest, most harsh criticism can have some insight. Don’t focus so much on how they say it, focus on what they are saying. If they point out plot holes, or character flaws that make no sense, use it to improve upon yourself.

In my opinion, there’s nothing more satisfying than being able to look at the people who once insulted you and say “look at me now, bitch”. I often wonder what those few terrible people would think of me now, the people who left me such harsh reviews that it literally drove me from the fandom for a long time. I kind of wish I could walk up to them and show them what I have done with myself, and that their little tantrum at a little eleven-year old girl and her first story, didn’t break me. It’s an empowering feeling.

PERSPECTIVE

This is a more technical aspect of writing, and it has to do with perspective. This is just a general warning when it comes to picking either first, second or third perspective to write from. In my opinion, try to avoid first and second perspective. They can be incredibly difficult to write with, and sometimes the story will come across as stilted or uncomfortable to read if you don’t know how to do it well. By all means, if you prefer writing in those perspectives, then stick with them. Just make sure you can convey everything you need to. I just find third perspective easier because there is a type of detachment reading and writing from it that isn’t there with the other two.

PACING

Again, on a technical note. Pacing is key to an effective story. You need to know when and how to balance action and inaction. If you are writing a novel-length sort of story, be careful of falling into the pit of “I need to have something important happening every single second”. The kind of high-strung story needs a very specific kind of genre to work, such as crime, or horror. But even in those stories, there are moments of respite for the characters and the readers. Often these little drops in tension act as great moments to show the softer sides of your characters, or have a nice emotional bonding moment. Inaction can be just as, if not more, effective than action.

VOCABULARY

Synonyms are your friends. Use them. Get a new word, then synonym that word. You expand your vocabulary by doing this, and the more you do it, the less you will actually have to use the thesaurus, because you will have built this complex web in your head of words. As well as this, I can’t stress how important it is to know the definition of the word you are using. Look up words you don’t know or are unsure of. It takes a lot of pressure off of you if you know which words make sense for the context of your story.

FOREGROUNDING

Foregrouding is an interesting skill that most writers use, but not many might actually know the name of. It’s a funny little technique, and even I didn’t know the technical term for it, even though I had been incorporating it into my writing for years. Foregrounding is essentially making something stand out in your writing by suddenly changing the style. For explain, for most of the piece, you might have been using long, flowery sentences, with a lot of description and emotion behind the words. A way to foreground this, would be to make your key sentence, or the “most important” part of the piece just a simple, harsh sentence with no embellishment. Many writers use foregrounding to shock or jolt their readers when something happens. Another way to do this would be if there was a death scene, you could spend a lot of time describing the wounds of the victim, what the blood looks like, what it smells like, the clothes they are wearing, what the other character is feeling, and then cut right to the victim dying. Here’s an example of something I’ve written with it:

The blood welling out the cuts reminded her of paint, thick and so incredibly bright as it slid out of the corner of his mouth and down his pale throat. She reached out with a trembling hand, carefully curling her fingers in his jacket and tugging until he was on his back. The sight was somehow worse now that she could see everything, but she didn’t let herself falter at the smell that hit her or the fact that she could see the white of his ribs through the shredded remains of his chest.

He wasn’t breathing.

That was really basic, but it shows the essence of foregrounding. Cutting away from a really in-depth, descriptive piece to something simple and plain is jarring in all the best ways. Or vice versa. If you have written something that lacks any significant description or emotion, then have a sentence brimming with the stuff. It’s shaking up your usual style to create a very specific reaction.

WHITE SPACE

White space is also known as negative space. It’s the parts of the page that aren’t filled with text, like the gaps between paragraphs. You should never underestimate the power of having white space in your stories. If I click onto a story that is just massive blocks of text, I immediately hit the back button. It’s just an automatic response for me, because I can’t actually handle having to slog through that much text in one go. Breaking up your text is a really efficient way to keep a reader’s attention, because that white space is like a little reprieve for your eyes. Try to avoid having huge paragraphs, or if you do need to have them, try and make them sparse.

GRAMMAR

Grammar is super important for a lot of reasons. Grammar holds the story together, and poor grammar can put people off of a story immediately. Most people have their own standards for grammar, but punctuation is a big thing for me. You need to stick to your guns with punctuation. If you use ‘ ’ (single quotation marks) for a character speaking, then later on use “ ” (double quotation marks) for a character speaking, then flip between the two, it can be really distracting. It’s the same with commas and semicolons and hyphens–most of us probably don’t have a concrete grip on what punctuation is ‘correct’ to use in most instances, but somehow you can immediately tell when it’s wrong. Grammar is, unfortunately, a key aspect to writing. You need to get it right or everything can fall apart.

HAND WRITE

A good practice to get into is hand-writing some of your passages. I have a notebook that I will just randomly start writing in, even though I might have my laptop open in front of me. It doesn’t matter if your handwriting is terrible, using pen and paper is actually one of the best ways for you to process information. Plus there is less margin for error, since it takes significantly longer for you to write, whereas it is very easy to miss words or make mistakes when typing. I’m sure I’ve made a few myself in this post already.

READ ALOUD

Read what you write aloud to yourself, or other people if you feel comfortable doing so. This really helps you to smooth out any lingering awkward phrasing or pauses and a whole plethora of other tiny things we all miss. Reading your work aloud pushes all those issues to the front. It can be an annoying process, but it’s really effective. Also, make sure to regularly change your font whenever you are reading through your work, and potentially the font size as well. These changes make your eyes and brain pay more attention, because even if you have gone through the same piece several times, they don’t know that, and will automatically refocus because it all looks ‘new’.

MIGRATE

If you get stuck on a project–jump to another. There’s nothing wrong with hoping between stories, or even side projects. Sometimes one story is just being stubborn, and going to work on something new helps get your creative juices flowing. I tend to find it most helpful when the projects I jump between are vastly different, either in terms of tone, or the fandom they are based in.

WRITE v EDIT

Try not to write and edit at the same time. Your brain needs a chance to switch between the roles, and if you try and force yourself to do them both at the same time, you will just end up going around and around and feel like you’re getting nowhere. Make your writing and editing times completely different, so that you’re avoiding that horrible spiral.

REWRITE

Don’t be afraid to rewrite things. I sometimes get to the end of a 7,000 word chapter, read over it, then rewrite the whole damn thing because I either didn’t like it, or forgot something, or there was one section that wasn’t clicking with everything well enough. Rewriting is great, and it can be fun too. It helps you to smooth out the crinkles in your story flow, and makes everything seem neater and ordered. Plus, I find the process extremely satisfying for some reason.

DAILY

Try and write daily. Set aside even just ten minutes a day to just writing something. Even one new word is another step you have taken towards the completion of your story. And if you find you can’t, that’s fine too. Maybe just use those ten minutes to read over what you already have. That’s how I get my writing spark back, I read what I have written, get sucked in, then get annoyed when I get to the end and become determined to finish. I fall for it every time and it’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t the entire reason I update my stories.

TREAT YO SELF

The title says it all. Treat yourself. If you finish that chapter that you’ve been stuck on for weeks–celebrate! If you plot out a character’s backstory and have figured out where you will be going with them in the future–celebrate! The little milestones are just as important as the finished project, and they deserve to be acknowledged. Have a reward system for yourself. Mine isn’t really big, it’s just the dopamine hit I get every morning when I wake up after posting a chapter, knowing I get to spend my morning laying in bed reading everyone’s comments.

FOCUS MODE

I find it very useful to write with the focus mode activated in Word, or on Full Screen mode in Google Docs. The lack of distractions on the screen makes it easier for me to concentrate and get my work done. I also tend to write with a black background and white/grey text–it’s a bad habit that I need to get out of, but it really helps me power out my chapters.

CRY

Sometimes writing can get really difficult, and that’s okay. I have been driven to tears sometimes when trying to write a chapter. Not because the part of the story is particularly emotional, but just because I need to get rid of some of my pent up frustration and exhaustion. Crying is an absolutely fine response to being overwhelmed, and no one should ever be ashamed of crying because of their story. Once you release all that build up, you will feel so much better.

EXERCISE

This is something I have to get into the habit of doing, but exercise is so important to writing. You need to make sure you stay on top of your health as a writer. Too often we just sit in front of our computers for hours at a time, not moving, poor posture, neck cramping and eyes dry. Get up and move every half-hour, even if it’s a lap of your house. Go to the gym if you can, just like with editing, you should set aside some time of your week to just exercising. It will improve your mood, and make the writing process so much easier.

BREAK PATTERNS

You’re a writer. You’re a creative thinker. We are not made to be confined in boxes and labelled and categorised. Go out there and write whatever the hell you want to write. Break conventional writing patterns, flip the rules on their heads. Every great author out there did something fresh and unique with their art, and you should too. Don’t be afraid to branch out of your comfort zone and give something a go. Be different.

——–

There is so much more to being a writer than just being good at writing sentences, or coming up with an idea. You’ll notice that a lot of my tips aren’t even directly linked to the act of writing, and there’s a reason for that. You are your most important asset. You are the one doing the writing. Take care of yourself, take your time, stay strong, keep your goal in mind, and just write. Write and write and write, and then write some more. The more effort you put into it, the harder you push yourself, the better you’ll get.

This is all I’ve got for the moment, and while it might not have been what you were looking for, I still hope this helps you in some capacity. And if nothing on this list does–great! You’re different from me and so many other authors out there, which means you’ve got something I don’t, and you will make something new and special.

You do you, my dear. Find what works for you, rip apart my advice and twist it into whatever suits you. There is no one way to become a better writer.

#anonymous #writing #personal #writing tips

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intothestarkerverse · 6 years ago

Text

The Time of Our Lives (Part Two)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time. Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990's, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter's attempts to deny his advances a challenge. Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won't take no for an answer, Peter's task has become much more difficult....

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

Be careful what you wish for. It was a cliched adage that old people were always quoting as if they were the first ones to think of such a priceless nugget of wisdom. Never before in Peter’s life had he been granted such an acute understanding of just how wise it was.

How many times in the last several years had he wished for something just like this? He’d pined for Tony Stark from the solitude of his own bedroom since his very early teens when his hero worship for Iron Man had been swallowed by a budding sexuality it had taken him years to completely accept and understand.

Just once he had wished and hoped and dreamed that Mr. Stark would see him as something other than a child, but he also knew how ridiculous that desire was. He was a stupid kid who could barely talk to the man without stumbling over his words. He made huge, dangerous blunders. Mr. Stark was never going to feel about Peter the way Peter felt about him and he had accepted the one-sided nature of his love for the man a long, long time ago.

And now…Tony’s words were burned across his brain. He could hear his voice echoing those not-so-innocent terms of endearment. His skin felt hot where Tony had touched him as if imprints of his hands were scorched onto the skin. More than anything in the world, Peter wanted to turn around and indulge in whatever filthy things he knew this younger version of his mentor probably had in mind. He wanted to bask in the knowledge that his attraction to Tony Stark was, in fact, not one-sided at all. In another world, another time, Tony could have been all his…and that realization was as tempting as it was terrifying.

Sometimes being a responsible super-hero really fucking sucked.

Or…didn’t suck…that was really the problem.

What might have been was literally going to haunt him for the rest of his life, and all Peter Parker could do was accept it and attempt to fulfill his mission. If he’d known that this was the ‘great responsibility’ Ben had been talking about, he might have taken a hard pass. A very hard pass.

The mission.

He needed to focus on the mission, not his own dangerously neglected libido.

The incinerator.

He needed to find the incinerator.

Probably in the basement with some kind of exhaust on the roof. His best bet at this point was just to dive down a hatch like in A New Hope and try to make the best of it, but finding a hatch to dive down wasn’t going to be easy. Security wasn’t as tight as it should be on the upper floors, everything seemed to be confined to the lower levels where the guests were…at least, that’s what Mr. Stark had implied in the dream. If Peter could swipe a security badge and get upstairs without being seen, at least half the battle would be won.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the security office is?” Peter put on his most innocent and boyish smile as he looked up hopefully at the security guard stationed by the wall where he was attempting to be at one with the artwork and plants on the edge of the foyer. He looked oddly familiar, but Peter couldn’t quite place why. He was very thin, very young, and not very experienced in his job if his body language was any indication. The somewhat familiar guard’s gaze shifted from the room to the boy in front of him and he frowned.

“Why do you need to know that, kid?”

“Always asking the important questions, a trait I like in my personal security. What’s your name again?” An unwelcome voice sounded from behind Peter.

“Hogan, Sir.”

Woah, Happy! His initial surprise over the guard’s identity was eclipsed as Peter felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end at the unexpected and unwelcome sound of Tony Stark’s voice. What good was a Spidey Sense if it didn’t tell you that someone was sneaking up on you? Except that the only danger that Tony Stark posed was to Peter’s virginity. Peter sighed and turned around to give the other man a scowl. “For your information, I found a wallet outside and I wanted to turn it in to security so the owner could get it back.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at this, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants in a leisurely stance. “Aren’t you the boy scout? All right, sweetheart, I know everyone at this party. Why don’t you give me the wallet and I’ll see that it gets back to its owner. No bothering with security. Cut out the middle man.”

Peter could actually feel the color drain from his face as his mind searched for some way out of this mess. Frantically, he patted the pockets of his jacket and pants. He really didn’t have to try to look mortified or embarrassed, he was already there. “I…It was…I think…I don’t…I lost it.”

“You lost the lost wallet that you found outside…you’re not very responsible are you, Beautiful?”

Peter’s scowl only deepened. If he only knew how damn responsible Peter was the guy’s head would explode. Young Tony Stark was ridiculously hot to a degree that left Peter feeling lightheaded with want…but he was also kind of a jerk and that made Peter want to push him down a flight of stairs.

Peter noticed that Tony’s tuxedo jacket was unbuttoned, the flaps held back by his arms, hands still stuffed in the pockets of his pants. The teen couldn’t help but look. He was only human and this was the man he’d lusted after since adolescence and he did look positively godlike in a tuxedo. It was only when his gaze had fallen to Tony’s pants that he saw something fortuitous. And no, it wasn’t the obvious bulge of an impressively erect penis. Although he’d have to be blind not to see that. Peter was no idiot, it was precisely why Tony was standing in that position. The man had absolutely no shame and Peter both hated him and loved him for it. Oh no, the thing that had him smiling and his heart hammering out an insanely fast staccato beat in his chest was the sight of a security badge hanging nearby that impressively large bulge of fabric.

A glance back at Tony’s face revealed that he thought Peter’s reaction was all due to his impressive manhood and it was all Peter could do not to wipe the smile right off his face with the truth. He didn’t, though, because telling the man he wanted to steal his security badge was probably going to make actually stealing it much harder than it was already going to be. So he bit the inside of his cheek and felt the color rush back to his face in a brilliant red flush across his cheeks and the tips of his ears at the realization that Tony thought Peter had been staring (and smiling) at his junk for a good sixty seconds.

“How long are you going to pretend that you’re not as into me as I’m into you, Peter? The evidence is as clear as the crotch of your pants. Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving this thing we have going. Cat and mouse game, it’s sexy as hell…but I’ve got to say a few words to the shareholders in a little while and I want to know if I need to go rub one out so I don’t give them an eye full or if you’re actually going to give in with enough time for us to really have a good time tonight.”

Was it possible for his blush to get even darker? Yes. Yes, it was. Peter ducked his head and tried to position his hands over the front of his pants as if only becoming aware of his own predicament when Tony had the audacity to point it out. His mind had been so focused on other things that he had been able to relegate his physical desires to some distant part of his reptile brain. Now that Tony had called attention to it, Peter was suddenly aware of just how uncomfortably hard he was. “You are the literal worst, Tony Stark.” His voice came out in an awkward hiss of exasperation as he looked for somewhere, anywhere to hide away and deal with personal matters without involving the billionaire playboy.

He spotted a bathroom a few yards away and began a less than subtle crab-walk in that direction. Tony’s laughter followed him, as did the man himself, striding with that same cocky self confidence and exhibitionism.

“I hate you.” Why wouldn’t Tony just leave him alone? What was worse, perhaps, was that the security guard was now also following them after a gesture from Tony. There were people looking, because honestly who wouldn’t look at the spectacle they were probably making of themselves? “I hate you so much, Tony Stark.”

“I can work with that. There’s such a thin demarcation between the really passionate emotions, Peter. Hatred and love are nearly interchangeable…as is lust.”

“I’m not lusting after you!” Lie.

“Keep telling yourself that, Kid, maybe you can make it true.”

Finally, the bathroom door was within arm’s reach, he burst through, attempting to whirl around and slam the door in Tony’s face, but the guard was just too fast. Happy blocked the move with an arm, and Peter was forced to either retreat or use enough force to break Happy’s arm. He retreated. Tony’s gaze swept the room, noticing a man standing in front of the urinal to their left. “You. Out. Now.”

Mumbling apologies, the man was still trying to tuck himself back into his pants as he stumbled hurriedly out the door and left Tony, Peter, and Happy alone.

“Why don’t you make sure we’re not interrupted, Happy? Peter and I need a little alone time.”

Peter gulped audibly as the security guard left the two of them alone. Tony would never hurt him. Even this jerky Tony, but Peter honestly didn’t know how strong his self control was going to be if things between them got more physical. He was a seventeen year old boy. He had so many hormones raging through his system right now that it was a testament to his willpower that he had withstood temptation this long.

Peter could actually smell Tony’s cologne he was now standing so close, and he was startled to realize that Tony hadn’t changed brands in almost thirty years. They said scent was closely tied to memory, and Peter had to agree that smelling that familiar aroma was reminding him that the man in front of him was every bit Anthony Edward Stark. A much less heroic version,to be sure, but Tony just the same.

The distance between them became even shorter as the other man stepped forward, the fingers of his right hand hovering dangerously close to Peter’s hip. The teen could practically feel the magnetic pull of them even through the thin layer of air that still separated them. Peter looked up at him, noting that Tony was drawing closer and closer. He could smell the alcohol on Tony’s breath when he spoke again, the whisper passing over the skin of his face like a caress and making him shiver. “All kidding aside, Peter Parker, I’m not here to force you into anything. If I’m reading the signs wrong…if you don’t want to kiss me every bit as badly as I want you to, you can go. If I’m right though, the only question is…what’s holding you back?”

Peter could do nothing but watch him lean in closer, saw the way his lips were parted, the darkness of his eyes, the hitch in his breathing. He hesitated, a thousand things conflicting in peter’s head and tying his thoughts into knots. Tony’s lips were only inches away. Everything he’d wanted for himself but been denied because of time and society and his own nerves and it was all right there for the taking. He just had to…

Peter rose a little on his toes, his own eyes locked on Tony’s mouth. A small growl erupted from the other man’s throat and Peter hesitated, drawing back again to look at him through thick lashes before he just gave in and did something supremely selfish.

Peter could practically feel the other man’s surprise. If he had been expecting a tender, close-lipped kiss that he could entice into something less innocent and more demanding, than he had every right to be surprised. Peter practically devoured him, lips parted and tongue demanding entry into Tony’s mouth almost before the man had time to register the kiss. Peter’s hands quickly found purchase at the back of his neck, digging into his scalp and using a surprising amount of force to keep his head in just the right position for those hungry kisses to continue. Peter felt the man growl against his mouth again, grabbing Peter by the ass and lifting him enough for Peter to wrap his legs around the other man’s waist and lock them into place. Peter thought Tony cursed at the feeling of the erection now pressed against his abs, but the word lost all articulation under the kisses that Peter was want to give up. Tony turned them both around, hoisting Peter a little higher to rest him against the sink and gain a little leverage. Finally, Peter had to pull back a little, gasping for air to fill his lungs, his hands leaving Tony’s head and instead finding their way to Tony’s pants.

Tony had turned his own attentions to Peter’s throat, making the teen moan softly at the wetness of his tongue, the friction of his teeth, and the sucking of his mouth that was going to leave purple bruises all up and down the pale and previously untouched skin of his neck. “I’m taking you home with me tonight.” Tony pulled back to look at him, hand coming up to cup the side of Peter’s face. He was laughing as he spoke, breathless and smiling and the look on his face made Peter want to cry. He’d never seen the man look so carefree and happy and he’d been responsible for that. Him. “I’m taking you back to my place as soon as I put on the show for the shareholders. I can’t possibly do all of the things I want to do to you in this bathroom…and I certainly can’t savor you the way I want to.”

Peter’s fingers continued to caress the fabric of his pants, but he nodded at the plans. He really didn’t trust himself to speak. He didn’t even know if he could at the moment.

Tony had just returned to his lips, had only just begun to pull Peter’s shirt out of the cummerbund that held it when there was a nervous knock at the door.

“Mr. Stark, they’re calling for you to say a few words, Sir.”

“Fuck!” Tony nipped at Peter’s lip in consternation as he pulled back, drawing a little surprised squeal from the teenager who sucked his now bleeding lower lip into his mouth as he glanced between the CEO and the bathroom door. “Stall them.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark, I already did…everyone…is waiting.”

“Fuck!” Tony backed up a few steps looking behind Peter into the mirror and attempting to straighten himself up. It wasn’t going to be hard for anyone to know what he was doing in the bathroom. Even buttoning the tuxedo jacket over his pants wasn’t really hiding everything from view. The more astute party-goers were going to get an eye-full of their CEO. He didn’t know why, but Peter felt particularly pleased with that.

“Go ahead…I can just…I can wait here. The…the sooner you do that speech, the sooner we get to leave.”

Tony’s gaze raked over him before he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll make it short. I can think of a hundred things I’d rather be doing with my night than talking to those stiffs…and you feature heavily in all hundred of them.”

Peter was still blushing as Tony pushed out the bathroom door and vanished from view. The teenager remained where he was, still panting and sore from the kisses. But after he could hear the distant sound of Tony speaking into a microphone filtering through the bathroom door, he lifted his hand from his side and shook the security badge free that he’d palmed during the make-out session.

God, he wanted to go home with Tony tonight and lose his virginity a hundred different ways to the man he’d loved with all his heart, but duty called. Hopping down from the sink, he splashed a little cold water onto his face and surveyed his swollen lips in the mirror. “Come on, Spider-Man. The universe needs you. We gotta do this.”

Sliding out of the bathroom door, he was pleased to see that Happy had not been left to guard him. It appeared Tony was now safely assured of his victorious conquest. A part of Peter was particularly happy about getting the best of him, even if Tony’s balls weren’t the only ones that were going to be blue tonight.

—

Tony was not even thinking about his speech. He’d practiced it a few dozen times for Obie until the man was content that it sounded earnest enough. He could practically give it on autopilot, which was exactly what he was doing now. His mind, instead, was on the pretty little thing in the men’s room. Not only was he a sight to behold, but his fire and sass made Tony hungry with desire. Such a tantalizing package of innocence and beauty and hunger and fire. He wanted to explore every aspect of that multifaceted little diamond in the rough, and he had every intention of doing that until the wee hours of the morning…right up until he unbuttoned his jacket and realized that something was wrong.

“Okay, look, you’ve heard all of this before and I’ve had a little too much to drink, so let’s just enjoy the rest of the party and you can pretend like I gave you guys the song and dance you all expect, okay? Perfect.” He raced off the temporary stage two steps at a time, grabbing the arm of the security guard he’d commandeered to guard his bathroom escapade and steered him away from the foyer down an access hallway. “That little minx stole my ID.” He hissed the words at Hogan. What was it everyone called him? Happy. Yes, Happy. They burst into the security office and Tony gestured at the wall of television screens in front of them. “Find him. I want to know where he is and what he’s doing with my card. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Happy set to work calling up a quick, interchanging circuit of the cameras that watched nearly ever inch of the building. It took several seconds, but soon he was pointing at one towards the middle. “There, Sir, the executive elevator.”

“My executive elevator.” He spoke through clenched teeth as he leaned forward to get a better view. The kid was nervous. He could see him fidgeting as the elevator made a swift ascent to the executive offices on the upper floors. If he’d wanted to see the offices, all he’d had to do was ask. Tony would have been only too happy to bend him over his desk and fuck him into next week. This whole spy routine, it was only succeeding in pissing Tony off. He didn’t know who the kid was or who he worked for, but he had every intention of finding out.

“What the fuck is he…” Tony frowned as the kid rolled up his sleeve and began to mess with something on his wrist. A moment later and Tony was viewing the impossible. Something appeared to pour from the watch housing, coalescing up his arms and around his body to form a hard exoskeleton. An armor. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. If he’d enjoyed the way the kid’s tuxedo hung, he had a whole new appreciation for the boy’s physique now. As the elevator ground to a stop, the kid exited, looking around as if he expected to be stopped by a guard, but there were no guards. Lots of cameras. But the guards were all downstairs.

Was he tiptoeing? It looked like he was tiptoeing down the corridor to Tony’s own office. Tony expected him to go for the computers or the desk, perhaps the hard files, any number of things. Instead, the kid was walking along the walls looking for something. He appeared to find it when he pulled out a hatch that led to the incinerator in the basement. Turning away from the hatch, he shot something from his wrist onto one of the built in book cases on the far wall, tested the tensile strength, and then jumped through the hatch, disappearing once more from view.

“Come on, Happy.” He waved the man to follow him as he headed back towards the elevators.

“Where are we going, Sir?”

“Basement. We’re going to catch our little intruder and find out what the hell he’s doing here and who sent him.”

#starker

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