#HOW DO I NOT HAVE GOTH LIT OCS????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

allthistrashtalkmakemeitchin · 5 months ago

Text

Ghostwriter Ch 1

Unebtad, Unedited, Unhinged || AO3

Pairings: Kendall Knight/Female Original Character, Female Original Character/Female Original Character in the background, Logan Henderson/Camille Roberts in the background, James Diamond/Lucy Stone in the background

Characters: Kendall Knight, James Diamond, Logan Henderson, Carlos Garcia, Gustavo Rocque, Kelly Wainright, Arthur Griffin, Ronnie Clark oc, Callie oc, Addison oc,

Word Count: 6818

“Your new song got five more hits!”

Addison turned her phone around and excitedly thrust it in her friend's face. She would be bouncing up and down excitedly if she weren't sitting down. Her blonde ponytail would be swaying, and the various bags at her feet would be bunched up in her arms, rattling and knocking together. Her face lit up, brown eyes sparkling as she smiled from ear to ear. Veronica, or Ronnie as she preferred, looked up from trying to wipe mustard off her yellow pullover, haphazardly dabbing at the dark stain with steadily growing frustration.

“Five more? That’s nothing. Don’t tell me you’ve been playing it once in a while to bump up its ratings.” Callie, a natural brunette who dyed her hair black whenever her roots started to show, was sipping on a smoothie. Her black lipstick left a ring around the straw.

“What? You can’t admit that Ronnie has some kind of talent?” Addison waggled the phone in front of Ronnie’s face. The blue-haired girl squinted to read the numbers on the small screen.

“Ugh, you need a new phone, Adds. I can barely see anything.” Ronnie balled up the napkin and tossed it on the table. “Did you take a picture of your computer screen?”

“You need glasses, " Addison said, pulling her phone back. It was a white Nokia 3720 classic.

“And you need a better phone,” Callie commented.

“Thanks for your unwarranted opinion, Hot Topic.” The blonde rolled her eyes.

“For your information, that’s where emo’s shop. I’m Goth.”

Ronnie took Addison’s water and wet the napkin, dabbing it lightly on the stain. She was more occupied with trying to get rid of it. She didn’t want to walk around with a mustard stain on her favorite sweatshirt. She wouldn’t have noticed it until Callie pointed it out, nor did she know how she got it. Not really. Someone must have spilled mustard on the pretzel counter, and when she leaned on it, the condiment transferred to her clothes.

“Ugh, Ronnie, you don’t know what you are doing. Take it off and give it to me.” Addison put her phone down and raised a brow. “It’s like you don’t pay attention in Home Eck.”

“I don’t,” She remarked and hesitantly handed her pullover to Addison. “Mr. Lawrence has it out for me.”

“You say that about every teacher,” Callie scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not their fault you don’t do the homework. Y’know, if you can’t handle high school and a job, you should quit the ice rink.”

“I can’t.”

“Oh, right, because you need the job.” Callie mocked.

“Hey, you’re not being cool right now.” Addison kicked her leg under the table. The goth adjusted in her seat and went back to texting on her phone.

“Whatever,” she stuck her middle finger up. “You think you’re so cool because you wear a short skirt and wave pompoms around.”

“Fuck off, you used to be a cheerleader too.” Addison rolled her eyes.

Ronnie pulled at her sweater. She might not have needed to wear her pullover sweatshirt, but it was like a security blanket. Leaning back and trying to relax, she tapped her foot anxiously on the floor. Without the extra layer, it felt so much colder than it was. Rubbing her arms, she eyes the way Addison dabbed a clean napkin on the stain. The blonde wasn’t doing anything different, yet somehow, the stain wasn’t as bad. There was a dark patch from the damp napkin, but that was about it. The stain wouldn’t crust over, but it would still have to be washed.

They were at the mall after school on a Friday afternoon because it was Friday. There was always something to do at the start of the weekend, and it was better than being at home. Ronnie didn’t have to work, nor did she have any club meetings. Callie took any chance to chill at the mall and sit around instead of going back to her parent's flower center and dealing with the elderly and senile customers. Addison avoided her boyfriend Trent because he threw a stupid house party again and drunkenly made out with some random girl in the kitchen. When they got to the mall, the shopping portion was out of the way. Addison whisked Ronnie off to all her favorite stores, and Callie stood outside like an angry guard dog whenever they went to change. Ronnie never liked to buy anything, but it didn’t stop Addison from buying her something small and slipping it into her bag when they left the store.

“Oh, you wish you could fuck me.” Callie sneered with venom, narrowing her eyes.

Ronnie wasn’t going to share her inside thoughts. She'd known something was happening between Addison and Callie for a while, but it wasn’t her place to talk about it. Whatever was going on, she hoped they figured it out before ripping each other’s heads off.

“It’s decent. When you get home, use a stain remover on it.” Addison returned her yellow pullover, and Ronnie immediately pulled it back on.

“I’m telling you, she��ll be buried in that thing.” Callie glanced at her blue-haired friend through her lashes. “I think you should dye your hair yellow to match.”

“I think you should dye your hair pink,” Addison rolled her eyes and got up. She drank the last of her bottled water and crushed the plastic.

“What– Pink? That would look so bad– I hate you.” Callie scowled and crossed her arms tightly.

“It would be nice to see some color,” Ronnie said quietly. “You could pull off green quite nicely.”

“Shut up.” Callie huffed and puffed out her cheeks. She wasn’t wearing a white foundation but sported graphic black eyeliner with sharp edges and angles paired with smokey black eye shadow.

“Who’s ready for round two of shopping? I need some summer clothes.” Addison had a bounce in her step. She picked up her shopping bags and pocketed her phone in her tan faux fur coat.

“Sure, I’m bored and feel like walking around.” Callie got up and stretched. She picked up one of the bags before the blonde could get to it.

“More shopping? You know I’m only agreeing because I have to follow you everywhere, considering you’re my ride.” Ronnie chewed on the straw of her soda. It was still half full. They had been sitting there for about an hour.

“Either way, I get to make you try cute clothes and act like you have legs and arms like every other person.” Addison smiled from ear to ear. “We could start at the other end of the mall and make our way back.”

“I’ll be holding the bags, I guess,” Callie motioned for the bags Addison had looped around her arms. She was pretending like she was being forced, but they all knew Callie wanted to hold her bags.

“Aren’t you sweet!” Addison chirped and happily handed her bags over to Callie. She wobbled under the weight but otherwise kept a straight face. The tips of her ears turned pink, and Ronnie couldn’t help but snicker behind her hand.

“We should go to Victoria’s Secret first!”

Addison bounced away, her ponytail swaying behind her. Callie followed after like a puppy at her heels, and Ronnie struggled to keep up with her taller friends. She half-jokingly considered buying platform boots to be at least able to compete with Callie, but the two were relatively the same height without her platforms. The blonde, Addison, was on a mission, and nothing could stop her. Despite her stature, she effortlessly weaved around others while strolling the mall. Callie unceremoniously bumped into everyone with the shopping bags and apologized like a shaking leaf in the wind. Ronnie shook her head and stifled her laughter, and every time the goth turned to glare at her, she couldn’t stop cracking up.

Victoria’s Secret was mainly black and pink, so Addison loved it. Pink was her favorite color. Callie and Ronnie looked out of place, standing in the store, idly looking over clothing items or standing around. It wasn’t the first store of their choice. It wasn’t a store they would choose to go to at all. Addison picked up clothing items, not worried about the price tags. As far as her friends were concerned, she had money to burn. The goth kept her eyes on the floor, and if she did look up, her face would flush a shade of pink, and she would avert her gaze again. Ronnie, although unphased, was mainly uncomfortable. It wasn’t that she didn’t like shopping at Victoria’s Secret, which she didn’t, but she could feel the perfume in the air sticking to the hairs inside her nose and coating them like grease. If she had allergies, they would be acting up, but so far, it was only a mild discomfort on top of how awkward she felt standing in the store.

Even if she were like Addison, she wouldn’t want to shop at Victoria’s Secret. There wasn’t anything wrong with the store besides the ungodly use of perfume in the air, but it never felt like a place she could be comfortable at. Maybe that was because she never felt closely tied to being a “traditional girl” in some weird way. Her father taught her about the car, she knew how to change a tire, she loved hockey and football, and pretty much any sport other than baseball. But it didn’t mean she wasn’t a girl. She wasn’t into all the shopping, glitter, and frills, but that wasn’t what made anyone a girl. Nothing else mattered as long as she felt like she was a girl.

Ronnie stopped zoning out and shook her head before she went on a tangent, but her friends forgot she was in the store. Addison approached her with her arms full of clothes and deposited some items into her open hands.

“No time to pout. Go try them on!” She ushered her friend to one of the changing rooms.

Callie was waiting idly, adjusting how she carried the bags to distribute the weight equally. There was no doubt in Ronnie’s mind that her friend's arms would be aching tomorrow, like her feet. Platform shoes weren’t the best to stand in, but they looked great and made Callie a little taller than Addison. That was what Callie wanted: to be taller. Of course, that came with a price. Blisters. Ronnie had tried wearing platforms once and got blisters after an hour or two. They have since been buried at the bottom of her closet and hidden away so she would never have the bright idea of wearing them again.

She stood there awkwardly in the oddly spacious changing room. The aspect she hated the most about shopping was trying on one item of clothing, probably because Addison always threw clothes at her without warning. If she went shopping alone, she wouldn’t mind all that much. Holding the bras in her hands, she wondered how the blonde knew her size, but she could only assume that she was guessing and picking randomly. Instead of trying them on, Ronnie sat on the ottoman in the corner by the mirror and pulled out her phone. Unlike her friends, she had a flip phone. To pass the time, she decided to text Rebecca, her project partner for this semester. The girl was practically a walking encyclopedia and would surely be happy enough to waste time with Ronnie. At least she assumed Rebecca would help her waste time and avoid having to try on and take off the clothing items Addison handed her. Unfortunately, her text went unanswered. Although she wanted to sit there and wait for the staff or her cheerful friend to ask if she was okay, she sighed and stared at the bras she hung up on the hooks across from her.

Ronnie came out of the changing rooms first, with a handful of bras haphazardly hanging off the hangers. Callie perked up but played it off by pretending to be checking something on the bottom of her shoes as if she stepped in something.

“Ugh, come on, Adds. Can we go?” Callie groaned and threw her head back. “I can feel myself memorizing cheer routines.”

“Just a second!” Addison called back. “I’m having trouble un-clipping the bra, but I’ll be out in a few seconds! I promise.”

“Why don’t you go help her?” Ronnie cracked a smile.

“Me? No– What– That wouldn’t– I can’t–” Callie’s face tinted a shade of red, and the blue-haired girl figured her gothic friend would die of embarrassment.

“Relax, I’m joking.”

“Oh- Right.”

“I’m done!”

Addison struck a pose when she exited the changing rooms. Neither girl knew if their bubbly companion would buy all the bras she had taken into the changing rooms. It might not be the first time she bought anything she could grab, but they watched incredulously as she put each item of clothing back on the rack. She turned on her heel and tilted her head cluelessly.

“What?”

“You’re putting it all back?” Callie breathed out, mouth agape.

“Yeah? Why not?” Addison blinked twice. “I already have a lot of this stuff. Trying it on was fun!”

“That makes one of us,” Ronnie murmured.

“Come on, we have dozens of other stores!”

Their shopping montage consisted of Ronnie and Callie following Addison, who felt more at home in the mall than in her house. It was the only mall for miles, and she spent much more time in food courts and clothing stores than at home alone with her brother while their mom worked. Ronnie only envied her for having a sibling just because she had someone to keep her company while home alone. She didn’t want to be forced to share her things with someone else, not because she was a greedy, spoiled brat but because there was so little of it already. Moving a lot during childhood left her with a relatively small amount of clothes, and she would go crazy if her siblings felt the need to go through her clothes and take what they wanted. In a way, she was glad her parents were older.

Waving goodbye to her friends, she thanked Addison for the ride home. She didn’t forget her backpack this time, and the car door shut with a thud. The car didn’t pull away from the curb until Ronnie was inside her house. She slotted the keys into the lock and turned as she pushed on the door. Her shoulder collided with the hard material, and she cursed under her breath. Sometimes, the front door stuck because it didn’t fit in the frame. Her dad kept reminding himself to replace it every other week but never tried. Then again, half his paycheck went to medical bills for all the doctor’s visits and prescriptions. With quite a bit of effort, Ronnie pushed the door with her entire body weight as she turned the knob. Callie and Addison from the car witnessed their blue-haired friend falling straight on her face, and the giant golden dog came to the rescue. He sniffed around while she pulled herself off the floor and turned back just as the car pulled away. It saved her from whatever comment Callie would make about it.

“It’s okay, Scout. I’m okay.” She scratched the top of his head and pulled the keys out of the lock. It took almost as much force to close the door as it did to open the door. She wondered how her dad did this every morning.

Ronnie kicked off her boots, joined the pile of shoes by the front door, and deposited her keys on the hook. As she walked through the house, she shed the layers that protected her from the Vermont winter. Her pullover unceremoniously draped on the back of the couch, followed by her red sweater. When she reached the kitchen, she was in a t-shirt and jeans, rubbing her arms as she opened the fridge to look inside. Someone had to go grocery shopping; she was the only one at home. Her grandma was at the bingo hall, and even though she could ask her to pick up milk, she wouldn’t. Seeing as they only had one car, there was nothing to do about it until her dad came home, but the closest convenience store would be closed when he came home. It wasn’t like they needed milk, but Ronnie craved cereal and did not want to eat a bowl full of dry Corn Chex. There was leftover Chinese takeout, but all that was left was shrimp, and she wasn’t in the mood for something left in the fridge for three days. But beggars can’t be choosers. Once her paycheck from Snow Dome came in, she would knock out the grocery shopping on her to-do list. Her father never once asked her to take care of the grocery shopping, but it was the least she could do with everything on his plate.

She put the shrimp in the microwave and pulled out sweet chili sauce to at least mask its current flavor. While it was reheated, she went over to check on Scout’s water and kibble. The wall between the kitchen and living room had been removed to create an open floor plan. Scout watched her curiously from the couch. He tilted his head, and his ears perked up. His bowl was half-empty, and she wouldn’t have to feed him for another hour or two. Once she was done reheating the shrimp in the microwave, she sat cross-legged on the couch, her laptop open in front of her. She was working on a new song. It had a poppy sound that matched that of Boyquake. Some of her older co-workers would play their songs during shifts. The melody was stuck in her head, and she couldn’t wait to get home to work on it, but she couldn’t just shut herself inside and write music all day. She had a social life. Granted, her only friends were Callie and Addison, but she couldn’t complain. So far, she was working on the instrumental accompaniment and trying to fit in the lyrics. The beat, at least for now, felt more like a love song to dance to. It is not a slow dance, but jumping around the dance floor. It wasn’t quite finished. She had been zeroing in on the lyrics for a couple of days, changing the instrumentals and moving stuff around. She was glad her grandma got her a new laptop for her birthday. Her old, clunky one would have exploded. Her new laptop made creating music more manageable. It didn’t freeze every time she deleted or added something. Her spiral-bound notebook lay open next to her. She scribbled down lyrics and crossed out old ones in black pen.

Thankfully, it was just the beginning of a new school semester, and her teachers were surprisingly laid back. Sophomore year was starting to look far better than Freshman year was. At least this time, she was walking into a new school year with friends who hadn’t abandoned her. She had her head held high, and nothing from her past would hold her back. Easier homework gave her more time to focus on her hobby. It might as well be the one thing that gets her into college. Music was her life force; over the years, she had written dozens of songs, some of which she performed and posted on her website. Ronnie may not be particularly famous, but that doesn't mean people don’t listen to her songs. Like a crazed animal, she periodically checked the stats of her videos and audio clips. Her dream may not have been to go to Hollywood to become a singer-songwriter, but she hoped that one day she would get noticed for the sake of helping her father. If her songs made her famous, he wouldn’t have to worry so much about his medical expenses or juggle between money for groceries or his medication. It wasn’t her father’s dream to be rich and famous. Both wanted it because at least everyone in America wanted to be like those celebrities in Los Angeles or Hollywood who could throw money at the problem without another thought. But, as far as dreams go, being famous was far out of reach, and it would take a miracle for someone to discover a teenager in Stowe, Vermont. For one, Vermont and California weren’t even remotely close to one another, and half the celebrities rising to fame were kids who happened to live in California from the get-go, went to auditions, or even practiced since birth for the role of a lifetime. As long as songwriting was a fun little hobby, fame was far out of reach. Some of her favorite songs played softly in the background, the bowl of shrimp half-eaten and forgotten on the coffee table as she typed away on her laptop, moving around and adding sounds to the recording platform. She hummed a broken tune as she worked. Scout lay on the other end of the sofa, his ears perked up occasionally, or he would lift his head but didn’t get up. His tail was tucked under his chin.

Sometime later in the evening, she abandoned her laptop and was sprawled across the couch watching a movie. The light on the porch was on, as well as the light in the kitchen, so that her grandma or her dad wouldn’t have to return to a dark home. Ronnie had changed into pajamas and draped a plush throw blanket over herself. She had bought it from Spencer’s forever before they closed up shop in the mall. It was on clearance and had Ghostface on it, so she had to have it. She was watching 10 Things I Hate About You. It was a cute movie, and she had already watched the trio of Scream movies too many times to count. It was nowhere near Halloween, and the last time she watched a scary movie in the dark, her grandma nearly had a heart attack when she went to get a glass of water. Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, but she made no move to grab it. It was only a text notification. It couldn’t be that important unless they started calling her. Unlike Callie, she couldn’t afford the fancy Apple iPhone 4. The front door opened, and she glanced away from the screen, reaching for the remote control to pause the movie or lower the volume.

“You refuse to read Shakespeare, but you watch this?” Her grandma shuffled into the room. She looked young for her age. Her skin was loose and still sagged because it lost elasticity with age, but her face was young. The small bathroom was littered with her skin care products.

“Grammy, I’m not going to read Shakespeare. I don’t need to read his work to understand the movie.” Ronnie moved the blanket, surmising she was sitting on the remote.

“Of course you don’t.” The old woman sighed and shredded her warm and fuzzy coat. The seasons were changing quickly outside. It seemed like just yesterday the weather was warm and sunny. “Did you have a good time at school? I assume you were at the mall with your girlfriends.”

“Yes, I was at the mall.” Ronnie leaned against the back of the couch. “Oh, I finished the last of the Chinese takeout.”

“Good, I wasn’t looking forward to taking it out.” She said, opening the fridge and bending down slightly. “Luckily though, Roger offered me dinner after bingo.”

“Ooh!” Ronnie cooed, her eyes sparkled. “Did he take you on a date?”

“It wasn’t a date.” Her grandma rolled her eyes and grabbed the iced coffee from the top shelf. “He’s a decent man, but I’m not seeking another romance. No one can replace Jimmy.”

“No one can replace Grandpa, but Roger likes you!” Ronnie hopped off the couch, Scout following suit and wagging his tail with a slobbery grin.

“Aren’t you a little too young to be meddling in the love lives of your elders? You should worry about your teenage love life.”

“Overrated.” Ronnie poked her head into the fridge and grabbed the half-empty 2-liter cola. “I’d rather focus on helping Dad and you.”

“Kiddo,” her grandma chastised, giving her a pointed look. “The only job you have is to go to school and get good grades.”

Ronnie focused on pouring her soda.

“Veronica.” Her grandma raised a brow. “You do know we don’t need you to help us, right?” She put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “All you have to do is focus on being seventeen, okay?”

Ronnie froze in the middle of putting the cap back on the bottle. She stared at the counter like a deer in headlights.

“I’ll—" Her grandma cleared her throat. I’ll change into jammies, make some popcorn, and start the movie from the beginning when I get back.” She didn’t wait for her to process what she said before disappearing down the hall into her room.

Ronnie stood in the kitchen. The 2-liter wobbled in her hands. She knew they didn’t need her help. She wanted to provide that help because they were the only family she had left. Haphazardly putting the bottle back, she knocked over her father’s favorite pickles container. The side of the container cracked, and pickle juice leaked onto the floor. Ronnie shuffled away, not too keen on getting her socks wet. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, she bent down and started wiping at the growing puddle. Taking the pickle container, she put it on the counter and grabbed more paper towels to clean up the sides of the container. In a panicked state, she was rushing around the kitchen to clean the mess she made. She accidentally slipped on the paper towels on the floor, which she had neglected to pick up. Her arms shot out to grab at the counter, but it was just out of grasp, so she fell on the floor. The back of her head smacked against the hardwood, and she scrunched her face up. Carefully, she touched the sore spot on the back of her head. It looked like she wasn’t going to be sleeping for a while.

When her grandma returned to the kitchen wearing the fuzzy pajamas Ronnie had gifted her for Christmas three years ago, she was surprised to find they still fit. She was startled to see her granddaughter on the floor. Ronnie got to her feet with her help and rubbed the back of her head again, wincing.

“Go sit on the couch, and I’ll clean up here.” Her grandma ushered her away gently. Scout circled her feet, worried. He whined softly.

Ronnie wrapped the plush Ghostface around her shoulders and pulled her knees to her chest. Of course, she messed up something so quickly. If it weren’t for her being so clumsy, her grandma wouldn’t have to clean up her messes. She pouted as she rewound the movie on television. Her head was throbbing, but she didn’t say anything about it. The last thing she needed was for her grandma to think she had a concussion. It was bad enough that she was so accident-prone.

“Is that a young Heath Ledger I spy?” Her grandma called from across the room. She put the bag of popcorn in the microwave. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “He was taken from us too soon,”

“He’s the guy that played Joker, right?” Ronnie turned around. “In that movie with Christian Bale?”

“Your father says he played a phenomenal Joker.” Her grandma chuckled. “He said it was one of his favorite performances next to Adam West’s Batman.”

“Adam West?” Ronnie furrowed her brows. “Ugh, is he one of your old-school actors?”

“He was so handsome,” her grandma sighed wistfully.

Ronnie pretended to gag and turned around. The movie was fully rewound, and she paused it just as it started.

“Oh, you should have seen Adam West back then.”

“When? Dinosaur time?” Ronnie snickered.

“How old do you think I am?” Her grandma squawked, playfully smacking Ronnie’s upper arm once she sat down.

“Older than dirt.” Ronnie was parroting what her mom would say about herself. There was a flash of remorse in her grandmother’s eyes before she took a handful of popcorn from the metal bowl on the coffee table.

“Okay, okay. Play the movie.”

Ronnie fell asleep halfway through the movie. She leaned her head on her grandma’s shoulder. When the movie ended, she moved Ronnie into a more comfortable position, taking the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over her. Cleaning up the coffee table, she noticed her spiral-bound notebook lying open. Curiously, she stole a sneak peek. Both she and her father were supportive of Ronnie’s hobbies. Her grandma was under the impression she was underselling herself and could go places if she outsourced and marketed herself properly. When she was asleep at night, her grandma and her father would listen to her music as they did the dishes or cleaned up. While she was washing the dishes in the sink, her father came home. He hobbled in like a zombie with an iced coffee from a gas station in his hand.

“Your daughter has a talent.” Her grandma rinsed the soapy suds off the metal bowl. “I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to do anything with it.”

“She’s a kid. I hardly think she cares.” Her father stifled a yawn, setting the iced coffee down on the counter. “I’m guessing I missed something,”

“Not necessarily. She’s working on new music.”

“You’ve been snooping again…”

“I can’t help it, James. She doesn’t share anything with me anymore.” The old woman shut the sink off. Her voice rose slightly.

“Mom, Ronnie’s a teenager, and teenagers… they– they hide stuff from their parents and defy authority.”

“That was your sister. She is so much better than your sister.”

“Mom,”

“What? You know what your sister was like! She made you come home from the army.”

That wasn’t just–” James pinched the bridge of his nose. “If Ronnie wants–”

“Veronica.” Her grandma corrected.

“If she wants to share something with you, she will.” He continued. “You have to let her come to you.”

“Have you been listening to those stupid parenting books?” She rolled her eyes. “At least you have to admit, things would be easier if she became famous for her music.”

“Mom.”

“Okay, okay. I admit I overstepped.” She dried her hands on the towel hanging from the stove handle. “But you can’t stand there and tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“I haven’t,” James said unfazed. “Because she doesn’t want fame.”

“Oh, please. She’s just saying that because she’s modest.”

“I have a feeling that you did something,”

“Who, me? When have I ever done anything?”

“Goodnight, Mom.” James sighed heavily.

Ronnie wasn’t necessarily invisible to the student body. While Addison hung out with the cheerleading team and Callie spent time with the goth kids, Ronnie was kind of alone. It wasn’t like she hadn’t made an effort to befriend people, but many of the kids in her grade had transferred from the same middle school as her, so there was no way she could convince any of them she didn’t grow up to be even weirder than before. Instead of going to lunch and sitting alone at a table, she hid in the music room for the next thirty minutes. Music was her livelihood. When she was upset, she listened to sad songs. She would pull up some music to decipher her thoughts and feelings when she didn't know what she felt. Music was her way of venting out her frustrations. Other people had sports or even took it out on others, but Ronnie had songwriting. She shut herself in one of the practice rooms after grabbing the key from their band director. Pulling out her laptop to set up everything, she opened the song she was working on last night. Then, something popped into her head. Waiting for the application to save, she figured she would sing a song for fun instead of working on the incomplete one.

Scrolling through her extensive library of MP3 files, she landed on Boom Boom Pow by The Black Eyed Peas. It would make a fun warm, but then she noticed Don’t Trust Me by 3OH!3. Although she may not need something to psych her up with so much energy, its high beat and catchy tune were irresistible. As the song filled the room, playing loudly from her laptop speakers, she wanted to get up and move around. Thankfully, the soundproofing kept others from hearing what she was dancing to, but there was a sliver of a window on the door. Unbeknownst to her, a boy in the hallway stopped to look at her. He wasn’t sure if he was mesmerized or perplexed. He had a guitar case with him. They both had the same idea: ditch the cafeteria and hide in the practice rooms. Ronnie didn’t notice him until she turned around and screamed. She almost knocked over her laptop, balancing unsteadily on a music stand. She froze like a deer in headlights, and her face turned red. She was beyond embarrassed and had no idea if this boy would run off to tell someone the weirdo they grew up with was weirder than before. He ran away when she noticed him, leaving his guitar case behind. She quickly gathered her things and left the key on the chair in the practice room. Fast walking to the closest stairwell, she climbed two stairs at a time to get to her next class.

The end of the day rolled around, and Ronnie pushed past other students to get out of school as fast as possible. She needed to reach Snow Dome before anyone noticed her. Her heart was pounding as she fast-walked to her after-school job. It was pretty far, and she would be dripping with sweat by the time she got there, but she didn’t want to risk someone pointing her out and making fun of her. Going unnoticed was far better than being made fun of. Panting and heaving to catch her breath, she leaned on the door and pushed it open. Her co-workers lifted their heads, and all three had wide grins. Wayne leaned against the counter, idly chewing on grum. He pouted when he saw her. He was only a couple of years older than her and attending college part-time.

“School wasn’t fun?”

“No, no. It– was– fine.” She spoke between deep breaths. “Just excited to work.” She mustered an uneasy smile.

“If anyone bothers you, they have to answer us.” Jordin slid next to her and handed her a handkerchief. “You know that, right?” He furrowed his brows.

“Don’t treat me like a baby.” Ronnie frowned but took the handkerchief from him, muttering a small thank you.

“Your song was on the radio,” Cassidy said as she joined Wayne behind the rental skate counter. “I didn’t know you had the guts to put yourself out there.”

“What?” Ronnie’s eyes widened. “How did– Which song?”

“It didn’t have a title. All they said was that it was their local songwriter spotlight.” Cassidy shrugged. “Did you not title your songs?”

“No. I don’t title them because I never wanted to put them on the radio.”

“Well, someone did,” Jordin crossed his arms and puffed out his chest.

“Babydoll, stop pretending you’re man enough to beat someone up.” Wayne rolled his eyes. “Senseless violence isn’t a good look on you.”

“It’s also extremely out of character, dear brother.” Cassidy snickered.

“Oh, shove a sock in your pie hole.” Jordin stuck his tongue out.

“Did any of you put my song on the radio?” Ronnie asked. The three of them shook their heads.

“Who has access to your music?” Cassidy asked.

“There’s Callie, Addison, my dad, and my… grandma. But she couldn’t have taken one of my songs and put them on the radio, could she?”

“Who knows? You’d have to be close to someone running the station in that regard.” Jordin scratched the back of his neck. “I can’t beat up your grandma…” He said quietly under his breath.

“I don’t want you to beat up my grandma anyway.” Ronnie elbowed him. “It’s whatever. I’ll ask her about it later tonight.”

“It was a good song,” Wayne said under his breath when Cassidy and Jordin left to complete their tasks.

“Really?” Ronnie sounded too hopeful, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been waiting for some sort of praise on her work.

“Yeah, it could be like… I don’t know, a new pop hit…” Wayne shrugged, looking away and coughing into his hand. “Go through the lockers, yeah?” He handed her the keys.

“Thanks, Wayne!” Ronnie chirped, bounding off with a spring in her step towards the lockers.

Whenever people came to Snow Dome, they were always the most forgetful of their items in the lockers. The dark blue lockers were tucked away in the back corner beside the bleachers. At the end of the week, there was a high school hockey game, and everyone was working to get the rink ready for the students to play. It was tedious to unlock all the lockers, but she only started unlocking them in case she closed them if she didn’t find anything. Usually, people left hats, gloves, scarves, and occasionally a watch. Ronnie pulled over the lost and found cart and started dropping the items inside. It was relatively empty because Snow Dome had re-opened before the new school year began. When work was slow, the employees could slack off until it was officially closing time. Ronnie used that time to improve at ice skating, but only if all her tasks were complete. Today was a slow day. By the closing time, her feet were aching, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep. Thankfully, the bus was still running, so she didn’t have to ask her coworkers for a ride home. They were always nice about it, but she didn’t want to keep relying on them. Even though she had her license, her family only had one car. She didn’t mind riding the bus, nor did her grandma, but sometimes she wished she had a car. She wanted the freedom to drive wherever she wanted.

The porch light was on, and she was sure her grandma was home. Pulling her keys out of the lock as she pushed the door open, Scout ran up to her happily, jumping on her and trying to lick her face.

“Oh, I didn’t see a car in the driveway. I thought someone was going to drop you off?”

“Nah, I took the bus.” Ronnie pulled off her shoes and left them by the door, closing it as she stepped inside.

“How was school?”

“I have something to ask you,”

“Of course, honey, you can ask me anything.” Her grandma said in an overtly sweet voice.

“Did– Did you ask Marta to put my song on the radio.”

Her grandma’s face fell.

“You found out about that?”

“So, you did!” Ronnie exclaimed, throwing her arms out.

“I only did because you have so much talent that you’re wasting. Don’t tell me Snow Dome is where you want to work for the rest of your life!”

“That doesn’t matter. Songwriting is just a silly hobby!”

“It doesn’t have to be just a hobby. You could get discovered by some big-name producer and–”

“I don’t want to be famous!” Ronnie snapped. “Don’t you get it? I like my life now, and being famous would ruin that.”

“Honey–”

“No! Dad is the only one who understands that it’s an outlet for me!”

Ronni didn’t give her grandma room to respond. She stomped off to her room and slammed the door shut. Her grandma jumped when one of the photos came off the wall from the force. Hesitantly, she picked up the frame and was glad to find the glass only cracked. She was holding a family portrait. It was taken before Ronnie’s mother died. Caressing her thumb over the photo, she sighed and sat at the dining table. Scout whined and put his chin on her thigh, looking at her with big, sad eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. She needs to get out of here, and this might be her only way how.”

It wasn’t like the dog would understand what she was saying, but somehow, Scout seemed to understand. He wagged his tail and perked up, smiling up at her. All she wanted was for her granddaughter to escape this nothing town and start new.

#btr #btrtv #big time rush #fanfiction #kendall knight/original character #kendall knight x original character #kendall knight/ronnie clark #kendall knight #ao3 fanfic #AO3 #romance #fluff #background romances #background relationships #ghostwriter fic #comfort after a breakup #after kendall and jo breakup #we love kelly #i love kelly

4 notes · View notes

vacantgodling · 7 months ago

Text

Writeblr Interview

On the Tumblr Writing Community

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

been on tumblr in some way since like 2013. been on writeblr specifically since like 2020-2021... ish?

What led you to create it?

ended up leaving twitter (back when it was still twitter) around the time the pandemic happened. i wanted to get back into tumblr because i'd been focusing mostly on twitter for awhile and the yeehan community/my old friends kinda weren't doing shit for me so i wanted to focus more on my original stuff. so i ended up making a writeblr when i heard that was a thing.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

how we really do just be on here talking about our blorbos and having a good time. its nice to have a place to escape with people who also get the importance of not being connected to reality at all times.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

i feel like ask games have kind of died down compared to how they were a few years ago so it'd be nice to make a resurgance of that.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

honestly just post what makes you happy and actually interact with other people. just trying to promote your own stuff doesn't really work (unless you're an artist tbh) but interacting with other people and making posts talking about what you're making with enthusiasm instead of the "woe is me idk how to talk about my wips but i hope someone will talk with me... :((" like bro idk just talk about it. have a good time. you don't have to follow for follow or follow someone just bc they're a writeblr either i kinda hate that shit. like only follow me if you're actually interested in my shit and vice versa. but that's just a pet peeve. tumblr isn't twitter we are about having a good time here not about promo.

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

that's a funny way to put this. rn its mostly been tcol just because i've been on a worldbuilding history kick because i've been cramming my brain full of a fucking alternate history youtube channel that my brain is mildly hyperfixated on. but my brain kinda flip flops around to any of my main wips when its convenient.

How long have you been working on them?

tcol's a wip i've had since i was 12 so like. pff 14 years at this point? jesus it sounds so old when i put it like that. paramour just had its 3 year anniversary on 6/19. vdtrt i've also had since 12. btaf is a couple of months old. like. maybe 2 months old lmao.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

tcol -> the video game etrian odyssey, lotr, history (in general) paramour -> there's so many influences frfr. but the original start was crimson peak and wanting to make something like that but also beauty and the beast and goth lit or whatever vdtrt -> percy jackson btaf -> twilight, but specifically the bella pregnancy arc

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

literally all day every day in some capacity

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"fantasy" i don't really talk to people about my writing at all in general irl anymore tho. just sets up for annoyance and disappointment.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

"fantasy" like. i really don't like people knowing about my wips esp if i don't think they have the bandwidth to appreciate them. not to sound uppity but like ik the people who i'm around and the shit that intrigues them is just worlds away from what i'm writing whether it be because its fantasy, because it's horror, or because it's queer.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created.

so as of counting (and not counting the plethora of flesh blood recently added to tcol) i've got 419 characters and counting. this also doesn't include any of the ocs i have with my partner which is a decent amount. i'll just stick with the mcs of the main wips. so those would be:

hyacinthus, amon, darren, sjaak, biscella, azelie, piper, forte, deux, san, clear

Who’s the most unhinged?

least to most hinged of this list:

SJAAK -> amon -> san -> piper -> hya -> clear -> deux -> biscella -> azelie -> darren -> forte

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

hya and amon are the easiest to write because i've written them the most. darren is a close second but not first because his whole thing about not using adverbs really trips me up.

Do you ever cringe at them?

nah. i don't cringe at them. i disdain at them. but not really cringe. i get really bad secondhand embarrassment so i don't tend to make characters that make me have that actually cringe reaction.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

kinda a weird question for me but tbh i feel like its sort of a 50-50 situation. i tend to make characters firstly out of some utility (aka i need a character to fulfill this role in the plot) and then as i develop them its like the two of us become collaborators on writing the story together. sometimes characters can be a bit stubborn about what they do or don't tell me about their backstories (hya is notorious for this) but for the most part they can't really "hide" things from me or wholly not do what i want them to do. a lot of times i'm going to put them in a situation anyway, they just need to tell me how they'll react to it. if any of that makes sense.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

of course :) i sound kind of dead in this questionaire because i'm at work ready to kms. but, sending me asks or talking to me on discord/tumblr messages about any of my idiots is always loved

On Writeblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

i look at the vibes of the account, who they are, if they have an intro and what kind of wips they're writing. i mostly only follow people if i see that their wips interest me. some exceptions can be made, ie: if they interact with a lot of my stuff first and we become friendly and i'm not following them i'll follow after the fact and then get invested in whatever they're doing. but on initial contact i like to see who you are and if your wips are interesting to me.

What makes you decide against following?

wips don't interest me or have things in their wips/in their sphere of focus that i just don't care about or aren't really my cup of tea. like let's say someone puts in their wip/personal intro that they hate fantasy. i write fantasy all the time. so like. probably not gonna follow you. that kind of thing.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

not often? i wouldn't mind it bc i actually don't follow that many people (always under 100) but this is bc i can't keep up with people that much and i want to make sure i properly give attention to others if i'm going to be invested in them. but like. i enjoy talking to people about my shit so like. /shrug. i have way more followers than i follow which is why i mentioned i hate when people follow me just bc i'm another writeblr lol. i'd much rather you follow me because you have interest in Me but like, i can't control people frfr.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

yeah! that's why i try to keep who i follow kind of in lower ranges. i have bad memory and it takes me awhile to warm up to people, but when i follow someone its because i want to be friendly and get invested in what they do. so like, i try to do that. i'm not the best but i do try.

#may delete this later idk #but thought it'd be fun to do #about renjamin #i wanna die #im so bored

5 notes · View notes

forbidding-souda · 4 years ago

Text

About Mod Souda

You guys should talk to me in the ask box more smh you guys are fun

Like just tell me about your day but I won’t guarantee that like 1000% I’ll respond but I’ll read them all.... efkjlwdbsc or or ask me questions or something idk I like talking

1500 followers face reveal when (shocked emoji) /srs

Anyways here’s some things about me because I never really introduced myself (since this is my account and why would I do an introduction)

THIS IS LITERALLY MY LIFE STORY GOODBYE BAHSBAH

-Mod Souda

Hi I am Mod Souda and I go by he/him ofc ofc I am a gay man.

Uhh I am an a native amercan mixed kid AND an Aquarius ugh I’m so unique right. I was raised by a raver and a metalhead skater in Vegas. I’ve been in the pit since I was 4 years old (specifically at a Primus concert LMAO).

The first fandom I was in was Creepypasta, and I was about 8 years old. It’s funny because the first musician I ever actively liked was Madame Macabre.

As a child (like 7-11) I mainly listened to Vocaloid, Madame Macabre, and Nicki Minaj.

When Avengers came out I was still in elementary school. And .. Loki... wrjhfbwejdhb bro!! gay awakening!! holy shit. I was in love with him but I didn’t want to admit it smh shhh.

The first anime I ever watched was Black Butler. I was IN LOVE with Joker from Book of Circus ehbwdjqshdfb. The last episode of that season ended the day I moved to California. I remember crying bc of the last scene inside of the moving truck.

I also got into Fairy Tail a lot. Also tragic. I had the hugest crush on Gajeel Redfox mmmmmemdwkgsnekfdjsglkvcx

I live in the Bay Area, and grew up in the same house, compared to living in Vegas where I moved every two years. There are ... so many poc here ... and in vegas I was in a class with all white people. Being around so many poc was so like ?? fun ?? idk how to describe it but it feels like how life should feel like; not stressful at all.

I started listening to goth music when I was 12 because I was in the Mr. Creepypasta amino and somebody was like “you guys should join the goth amino” and I was like oh that sounds so fun !!! Boom... goth Mod Souda arrived.

I was all about Sopor Aeternus and Switchblade Symphony.

I discovered my lifelong favorite artist in like 2016. It was because I was making playlist for my Fairy Tail oc (tragic) and I added this song I got off of a “Creepypasta Theme Songs” and it was Bernadette by IAMX (which was assigned to Laughing Jack). And I listened to the song and was like meh this is cool. Then one day I played the playlist and it just.... hit different. LMAO I was like waiitittttititit. The next day, on the way to the airport, I downloaded all 7 (at the time) of his albums and listened to them the whole way. I’ve seen him live too like mm chris corner I love you.

I got into DR in 2015 because of an edit of (anime) Syo and Junko to Pound the Alarm LOL. I was like “this looks cool” so I watched it on my phone while sitting on the couch all in one go. Spoilers but I cried the most when mondo and sakura died, fun fact. Life went down from there smh!!

I really believed that I was dating Gundham Tanaka. Like everything in my life was Gundham Tanaka related like I was ... obsessed with him. And I coudln’t see art of him and sonia because it would make me have a breakdown bc I thought he was cheating on me PLZ BHDSABHJBAHAAHHA it’s funny because I kin sonia now and I’m in love with her.

This was the same year where I ???? got bruises on my eardrums somehow (I asked my dad recently how I got them and he went uhh idk) ???? and I couldn’t hear anything for like three years plz. My hearing has gotten better but idk if my ear percentage is 100%/100% or if I’m just grateful it isn’t what it is before LMAO so that’s when I started learning ASL.

This is also the same year where I got hospitalized for being a neurodevelopmental schizophrenic lol OOPS !

A funny story of me growing up with danganronpa is uhh when future arc was still airing ,,, Spoilers,, and the episode with Juzo passing aired,, I literally printed the frame of him talking to himself confessing his love and BROUGHT IT TO SCHOOL. I LIT A CANDLE FOR HIM TOO LIKE BYE

Freshman year of highschool I started dating an emo kid who brought his electric guitar to school. TRAGIC. We dated for like two years please what.

Sophomore year I started getting into metal and punk. This is mainly because I went to a Slayer concert. I was trying to branch out of my goth bubble and !!! metal really stuck with me. My favorite subgenre is goregrind. It’s mmm so good. Punk... was a miss. I absolutely hate punks. If anyone in the alternative community is reading this right now I’ll tell you this: the punks that I interacted with to learn more about the community were from OC .... goodbye

I still listen to Glass Street tho ^ they are hc/crossover and I really like their music omg I have their merch now plz HBSAJKH and I still like the patch pants / crusties I made so that’s cool. A lot of kids look up / glamorize me just because of my fashion but at least they give me clout ig ...

The year after that I downloaded Spotify for the first time. I was an apple music/youtube person (tragic). Uhh what else omg. I finally figured out that I was neurodevelopmental and that it affected my way of thinking and that ,, it wasn’t JUST because I am sch so that was an awakening.

Anyways now trying to get a minor in asl interpreting mmmm and trying to get a job SMH !! why is it so hard. I’m into DND now oo that’s new and I’m collecting the dice.

I started this blog in July 2020 when I was staying with my friend in a tent in New York for a couple of months. I forced her to watch despair arc (LOL) and now she’s a junko cosplayer so B^)

Metalhead anon and everyone else who’s been here for a long ass time make me SOOO happy like woah.. it’s been so long omg. I used to post fics three times a day like wtf the EFFORT (that was before school started lol oops my bad)

Since then I’ve got a boyfriend and a whole wave of danganronpa cosplayers who are my friends now. It’s really cool to talk to so many young people (sometimes) who are hella into like,, open conversations about gender and politics and whatnot. I’m used to talking to 20 year old goth people you know?

Whenever I do something “cringey” (like if I want to do dr character impersonations or if I want to rant about how much I love this anime character or if I want to try out neopronouns) I’m like hmmmm I can go to the danganronpa cosplayers and I know they won’t judge me for this.

Anyways that’s it. It’s 22:50 where I am right now aaaanndd I go on this blog way more than I should LOL

#mod Souda

14 notes · View notes

jawnjendes · 4 years ago

Text

i’ve loved you for all of my life | shawn mendes

forevermore 3/?

shawn x goth oc

AN: i started a discord for shawnblr. blease message me if u wanna join.

masterlist | playlist coming soon

Even in a hat and sunglasses, Shawn still felt like he was being watched. He sat outside the main hospital entrance, smoking a cigarette. Everytime anyone walked past him to enter or exit, he turned away or put his head down. He was especially paranoid today, and needed to be on the lookout for, well, anything. People staring back at him, Ann’s parents, people with cameras. It was very important that Shawn didn’t get spotted today. The anxiety of it all is what made him step out for a smoke in the first place.

Normally, his security team would have a hand in making sure he was in a private waiting room, but given that his head of PR was not interested in Shawn unless he was doing PR things, he practically had to fend for himself. His main priority was getting to see Ann, but he didn’t want any unnecessary party seeing her.

The last three days were spent getting updates from Ann’s phone, sent by her cousin Jimena. Apparently Jimena was the only family member who did not have any unnecessary animosity towards Shawn, and politely kept him posted. And once Shawn knew what had caused Ann’s internal pain and bleeding, he had to see her as soon as he could.

Neither he nor Ann thought it was possible, and that was still technically true. It didn’t exactly happen the normal, conventional way, but hearing the word “pregnancy” was still worthy of a double take. There wasn’t any hint of joy or celebration when Jimena explained it to Shawn over the phone, that’s how he knew it was bad. No amount of Googling the terms was all that comforting either.

He took another drag.

“Hey, cheater!” called a loud, female voice from behind him. Clearly her habit of projecting her voice in public spaces hadn’t died down.

Shawn rolled his eyes to himself before getting to his feet. He turned to the woman as he blew the smoke out. “Hi, Jimena. How’ve you been?”

She adjusted her backwards cap with a grin on her face. “Oh you know. Was doing well til I found out my cousin was harboring a dead fetus.”

“Mm, you’re as blunt as you’ve always been.” Shawn attempted to sound amused, despite how awful that visual was. He dropped the last bit of his cigarette and stepped on it to put it out.

“It’s how I deal with this crap. So, you ready?” Without waiting for an answer, Jimena turned on her heel and headed back inside the building.

Shawn was quick to fall in step next to her. “No one else is there?”

“Nope! Her parents went home to shower, and then they’re going to get some things from Ann’s place. Should be good for at least an hour.”

She had a bounce in her step as she entered the empty elevator. She was particularly peppy given the circumstances. That had to be a sign that things hadn’t gotten worse with Ann, right?

��How’s she been doing?” he asked once the doors were closed.

“Well, it’s like I told you over the phone,” Jimena said. “Her tube was ruptured, but other than that, the surgery was successful. She just has to recover for the next month or so.”

“But, emotionally? Is she lashing out? Still talking and eating?”

The shorter girl gave him a look. But then it was like a lightbulb went off in her head. “Right. I forget good boyfriends worry about the mental wellbeing of their significant others.”

His eyes widened underneath the sunglasses. “Uh-”

“She didn’t tell me, I figured it out,” Jimena casually said. “For one thing, I know my cousin isn’t dumb enough to date someone that she knows is cheating on her. And another thing - no offense - but you and Camila is the fakest circus act I’ve ever seen. And a third thing, Annalise was really adamant on getting you to visit when no one else was here. And-”

“Okay, okay.” Shawn put his hands up in surrender. “Yeah, you guessed it. You just can’t tell anyone else, not even your family.”

“Hey, I gotchu. You’re cool with me. Why do you think I’m helping you?”

He smiled at the sentiment. At least one person was in the Shawnnalise corner.

Finally, the elevator doors opened on the second floor. It wasn’t too busy, some nurses were running around as per usual. Visitors walked around with their ill loved ones.

Shawn felt his heart beat a little faster as he stepped out into the hall.

“She’s at the end of the corridor,” Jimena told him. “Last room on the right. Have fun.”

“You’re not coming?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’m the lookout. I’ll send Annalise a text when I see her parents or anyone else.” And she pushed the button to close the elevator doors.

Then, Shawn took a deep breath. The last time he saw Ann in the hospital was back during college. The nerves were quite the same, just radiating all over his body. He just wanted his girl to be okay.

His girl was in fact being looked at by a nurse when he walked in. Ann looked very sleepy, staring off to the side as a needle was put into her arm. However, her eyes lit up upon seeing Shawn at the doorway.

“You’re here,” she weakly said.

“I am,” he replied, taking the empty chair at her bedside. “How you doing, honey?”

She sighed. “You would not believe the shit I’ve been through.”

“Aww,” said the elderly nurse. “You’ve been a trooper! Strong lady, you are!”

“It’s true.” Shawn grinned. “I wasn’t even here for it, but I know it’s true.”

“Are you a friend? Boyfriend?” the nurse asked him.

“Best friend,” Ann replied for him. “Known him forever.”

It feels that way sometimes.

As soon as the nurse left, Shawn took Ann’s hand and kissed the knuckles. Then he leaned forward (somewhat awkwardly moving from the chair to the bed) to kiss her forehead and cup her cheek. It was hard enough that she was in the hospital; Not being able to see her at all was torture. Shawn couldn’t even focus on anything else, not even as a distraction. Now that he was here, able to see for himself that his girl was functioning, he could breathe again.

“I missed you.” Those words couldn’t even do it justice.

“I missed you too,” Ann replied.

Now that she was there in person, Shawn noticed the differences in her features. Apart from just looking tired and weak, her skin had paled, her eyes were a little sunken in, and her hands were pretty cold. Still Ann, just a little frail at the moment.

“So what’s this about an ectopic pregnancy?” Shawn asked, holding her hand in both of his. “Were you actually pregnant?”

Ann shrugged. “Not technically. It’s dead if it doesn’t implant in the right place, and it planted right on the tube and ruptured it. Things like this are common for people with PCOS so… I guess I should have seen this coming.”

“There’s no way you could have known,” Shawn reassured. “You didn’t think you could get pregnant at all to begin with.”

“Yeah. The really bad news is, my mom’s asking questions now.”

“Questions like…?”

“Like who was trying to get me pregnant? Why didn’t I tell her I was seeing someone? Why am I so inconsiderate? You know, questions of a parent who has an innate need to know every little thing about their child.”

Shawn moved a strand of hair behind her ear. “She asks because she worries.”

Ann shot him a look. “So tell me what I should say to her then. Note: she nor my dad like when I ask them to respect my privacy and will not take it for an answer.”

“Uh…” He took a moment. “They should respect your privacy? You’re your own person?”

“Ahh…” Ann patted his hand. “My parents aren’t white.”

“Well, unless you wanna hire an actor…”

“Sounds like a bad fanfic.”

Shawn sighed and squeezed her hand. “I promise I’ll get out of this contract soon. Then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

“Getting married sounds cool too,” Ann added.

“Oh, a hundred percent.” And he stood again, bent to an awkward ankle and pecked her lips.

Ann inhaled when they pulled apart. She tilted her head. “Were you smoking?”

Shawn couldn’t stop the guilt from appearing on his face. It was a habit that was not particularly liked by many people around him. “I’m sorry…”

“Mm, I’ll let it slide this time. I’m too tired to do armchair psych.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell between them as they watched the TV hung on the wall. Shawn tried to watch the cartoon, but his eyes trailed to his hand holding Ann’s. The situation she was in would be heartbreaking for those who want kids, or were trying for kids. Ann seemed relatively unbothered. No she hasn’t had an ectopic pregnancy before, but she already knew she wouldn’t be able to properly bear children. She knew her body wasn’t able to do things normally.

It’s fine. She couldn’t control that, and Shawn always tried to help her as best he could. He and Ann haven’t had the children talk yet, although she usually leaned more towards “no” if the topic was brought up. Shawn was okay with that.

Looking at his hand around hers made him imagine… what if it was a small hand? A much smaller hand? Pink and held tight into a fist, resting on the palm of Shawn’s hand.

The idea made his chest get warm, his heart melted a little. But the fact that it would only stay an idea abruptly brought him out of that five second daydream.

“What would have happened if you were actually pregnant?” The words came out of his mouth before the thought completed itself in his mind.

Ann didn’t say anything at first. She met his gaze, the mild surprise on her face speaking for itself. Then she merely shrugged. “I haven’t thought about what ifs like that since my PCOS diagnosis.”

“And when was that?”

“I was seventeen. I never really thought about having kids before that either. It just never… I didn’t really care, despite the inherent pressure that’s placed on women and even young girls to have kids, like it’s their only purpose or something.” She spoke quickly and then took a breath, getting back to the main topic. “My mom was mostly worried that I had cancer when we realized things weren’t working the way they’re supposed to. Both my parents were sad when we found out I would most likely end up infertile, and I... I just never thought about it since. It’s just how my body works: unable to bear children.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I can’t really miss something I never had. Besides, you know me. I have better things to do than be reduced down to my biological functions, or lack of.”

“Right,” Shawn said in thought. “Well… have you thought about it now that this happened? You know… us having kids of our own?”

Ann sighed and then squeezed his hand. “I might ask you the same question.”

The two silently looked at each other. Shawn felt a little sheepish now that he heard Ann’s perspective of this particular realm. But he couldn’t lie to her.

“I see a little toddler with your eyes and my hair, running around in a black onesie,” he admitted. Okay, so maybe he’s thought about it more than once. More than he liked to admit. “Or a blue onesie. Or a pink one. I know it’s not realistic, it’s just… just a thought.”

“Thoughts are allowed. It’s a nice thought. I just think we should worry about this contract of yours, and then telling my family and yours that it was you and me all along, and then getting married…”

“Right…” He nodded, pushing the parenthood feelings to the backburner. “Still a lot to worry about first.”

“We’ll come back to it,” Ann promised.

At least she wasn’t saying no altogether.

_______

making a new taglist so lmk if u wanna be added!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #it started as one thing and led to that conversation lmao #wtf is wrong w me i h8 the having kids trope lmao #henny ways pls enjoy

34 notes · View notes

shippyboi · 5 years ago

Text

Kiddney patch Notes, as a treat.

I know i haven't posted any of my writings in like, ages, but i was looking over my Kiddney patch notes. Basically me and @shikkearu (my bestest finnish lady in a box) were talking about Kiddney and she oh so graciously gave me these that i was talking of.

Quickly before i paste it.

-A few characters mentioned are like fill in ocs/side jokes

-Its an AU. Set in modern day Finland. Thanks.

-since this is a conversation thats why its formatted like this.

Enjoy lads

Kiddney

- Idiots love each other but are like "buh buh age gap"

-"why would she want a little boy :("

-"who wants an old lady :("

-bickering every chance they get

-kidd bumming in her restaurant atleast 3 days out of the week

Kiddney

-Bonney acts like she's in her forties compared to Kidd because she doesn't understand that just because she met him in highschool when she was a young adult and gained a crush on him as an adult isn't predatory

-Kidd has wanted to bang since he met her at 17

-Kidd was probably an orphan that got out of the orphanage at 18 and that explains some of his flaming anger issues

Also the first one looks bad, when he was an adult she wasn't perving on him as a kid

-Kidd has been told throughout his life he'd be a woman beater and it scares him that he has real feelings for someone

-Bonney tries to act like she hates him but it backfires all the time (especially when she gets drunk which is a lot.)

-Idea that we could use; Bonney might have like a binge eating disorder (or possible bulimia considering she eats a lot all at once) that we could reveal slowly

-Bonney's parents are really traditional and she feels bad that she doesn't wanna get married (kidd eventually just makes them rings and they wear them.)

-Kidd is very territorial (this is in ways like watching his friends get hurt, telling all his friends s.o. s not to hurt them or else, and getting pissy when a male breathes in Bonney's direction.)

-Kidd knows it's wrong but he can't find out how to stop. He just is really close to all of them and he can't stand the thought of any of them getting hurt

- Kidd is a manly mans man and he is proud. He makes weapons out of everything and breaking into his house would be like breaking into a military base

-Bonney is pretty tomboyish and has a hard time meshing with girls (one reason she really wants to become Perona's friend.)

-Her personality is really brash and all

-infact both of theres is

-Bonney always feels bad for being mean to him but since she feels like a creep for her feelings she doesn't know what to do

-Bonney is prideful, so is Kidd. If you doubt her at all she'll mcfreaking wreck you by doing so damn good

-Bonney consults Hawkins a lit since they are the same age but in two different levels of maturity

-Side note: Basil loves all his friends and is ready to be all of their big brother.

-Kidd and her eventually at the same time pull a 'fuck it i can't deal with this anymore.' And it goes like this

-'i love you!'

- 'u sure'

- 'ye'

-Kidd and Bonney actually end up hunting and fishing together

-They have probably made out in a deer stand

-They have a place to smoke meats and boy do they

-Kidd will eat straight off his knife

-Bonney really likes his house. Its unique and very outdoorsy

-kidd's crew could be his orphanage mates, especially like Killer

-Kidd is a mix between goth bf and country bf and that's really sexy of him

-Bonney's parents probably hate him

-Kidd definitely has silently loathed Law from the start

-Kidd has probably been arrested at least once

-Bonney learned to cook from her aunt

-Bonney is constantly angry that people she cooking as a girls only thing

-"DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M STRESS COOKING *Tastes* NOT ENOUGH S A L T"

-Bonney is a power bottom not up for discussion

-A lot of people think Bonney's a lesbian

-Kidd really loves Bonney's cooking and that's his guise to bum at her restaurant

-Kidd can actually cook pretty well and has got up to make her breaky and its cute

-Angry sex? Happens more than you think

-They are both ticking time bombs

-not towards each other to everyone else

That's everything that hit me. I'll wait a bit for extra bits

-kidd definitely goes and checks on the kids he left behind. He's big bro

-Bonney lived close to hicktown 👀 (oh my god, what if her mom is hicklady.)

My mind won't stop on kidd.

Imagine this. 16 year old Kidd. Went fishing and brought back a bunch of fish. Gets told to throw them out. Tells them to bite his ass and goes into a secluded spot to make a fire and cooks the fish and then younger kids come out hungry and he feeds them the whole time having a "iim so damn done" Look on his face.

I gotta document it now before i forget lol

Kidd probably is salty at religion like; where were my damn parents and why did i get to watch all my friends leave. Why did i have to deal with the shitty adults who looked after us >:(

We get to develop hick lady. Bonney isn't religious in my eyes but she knows how to fake it

Kidd's parents probably dropped him off on the orphanage steps. Then he got neglected by the caretakers then the people he made friends with got adopted. His family are the younger kids that never got adopted as he grew up and eventually left. He still checks on em.

Kidd lives out in the boonies so he can weld in peace. He is the only welder prolly in the area (also prolly has some skill as an electrician.) So he makes good money. He might be with a company as well but idk how to set that up.

It's sorta like Armstrong's house placement.

His house is kinda small. One bedroom one bath, stone floors. A fireplace. And basic appliances. And he only has one door for the outside so cold doesn't creep in. The rest are curtains to his rooms. He uses his fireplace and space heaters. Has a king size bed to cry alone in. And lights. His living room is pretty big. His kitchen is average. He definitely has hung up deer heads and prolly stuffed ducks he killed. He probably has a hunting dog that lives inside with him. Its a lot of gray and brown. He has a bear skin rug and he's proud of it.

He's got himself a place outside so he can smoke meats. And a furnace and anvil and all that in a building right next to his smoke house. It's all connected. A wooden porch he built. He probably has a lake in his backyard.

Like i'm thinking he bought a shitty house and a chunk of land and spent a fortune making it how he likes it. Which took a long time.

Bonney probably has a small apartment close to her restaurant. She has to spend a lot of money on rent and pay. But it's a pretty popular place. She's a good ol chef of course. Again she lived in hicktown and moved to the big city ™.

She rarely talks to her parents (i think her dad planted an image of a woman in her head and it made her bulimic.)

And even though Bonney is pretty and such she has major self confidence issues. Because her dad and her mom just let it happen. But she sees them on holidays coz her other family is there. And the only one who doesn't judge kidd hard at first glance is her aunt. Family holidays are drudges for both of them

Lets develop hick lady holidays will always be fun.

I guess she sorta looks like old ass lady Bonney and her dad is op background character 7

Also; Kidd has two dogs. A fully inside dog that's a small little basset hound and then his hunting dog which is a curr. He loves them both

Also they prolly stay like a week- three days on big holidays and hick lady is like "You aren't sleeping in the same room."

Kidd: look lady i've been trying to get to this status for years fuck you

I wanna name her dad James so his family calls him JJ and Kidd's like "What grown man goes by jj" And Bonney's like "just look away."

I think we have a solid plot to start with. And i got the lore pretty well.

The plot is basically~

Kidd and Bonney have a mutual crush on each other but both don't realize and have some perceptions that aren't true (Kidd scared of love coz of what he's been told, thinking he's too immature, Bonney thinking she is too old, not thinking she is a 'real' girl.). They are kinda aggressive to each other (especially bonney) to try and ward their emotions off. Until they eventually both just crack and are shook ™

And we got lil side things. Anger issues. Her eating disorder. His mommy and daddy issues. Her family problems ect.

Hannah

Ina

Connie

Kayla

Lois

Annie

Daisy

Yennifer

#kiddney #kidd #eustass kid #jewerlry bonney #one piece #au #writing

4 notes · View notes

nihilnovisubsole · 5 years ago

Note

My fashion queen, incredibly important question: How would one go about figuring out fashion *style* for characters? I've noticed your OCs always have a Look(TM), and I've gathered from your blog (and fics) that you've got an eye for aestethics - please, could you give me advice at least where to *start*. I'm completely unaware of fashion and, frankly, completely overwhelmed at the prospect of just starting..

Ah! Previous Anon again - forgot to add a more specific question about fashion (I’m squeezing in 2 quesiton in one xD). Do you have fashion advice for sleek/distant female character’s clothing that doesn’t hinge on formal dresses? (as is discernable, I have literally NO idea what a Grown Ass, Self Respecting Woman would wear)

wow. that’s high praise. when i got this yesterday morning, i knew i wanted to give it the answer it deserved. this is over 1500 words long, so apologies to anyone on mobile, but i wasn’t letting go until i’d really sunk my teeth into it.

unfortunately, since you’re anon, i don’t know enough about your character to suggest anything specific. instead, i want to take a step back and see if we can solve the root of the problem - “where do i start?”

when i was a teenager, an english teacher told me this: “the biggest constraint in writing is no constraint at all.” when you have the whole spectrum of something - in this case, clothes - to pick from, it is overwhelming. the natural human instinct is to freeze up. so while it may sound strange, if you’re just starting out, you might feel better if you have some constraints to work within.

with that in mind, you can treat finding a ‘signature look’ for your character like solving a murder mystery. you eliminate all the suspects that don’t fit until you know enough to narrow it down to the one that does. that’s going to involve something else you’ll recognize from murder mysteries: you’re going to have to interrogate the character. open them up and get to know them - their background, their likes and dislikes, their quirks, the role they play in the world around them. every answer will give you clues and weed other things out, and eventually, you’ll get a box small enough that you feel comfortable working in it.

now, i love fashion, and i love using clothes to send messages about a character’s personality. so as someone who’s had that interest for my whole life, i work from the other end. the constraints happen, in large part, without me thinking about them. i tend to zoom right to a certain aesthetic or item of clothing, say, “okay, what outfit can i build with this,” and go from there. but since you’ve said you’re “unaware” of fashion and it’s intimidating to you, i’ll try to ease you in through a different route and see whether that helps.

so, if we’re going to pick your character apart, let’s think about some practical questions first:

what setting does your character live in?

if you’ve narrowed your setting down to a historical decade, you’ll find most of the style questions already - firmly! - answered for you. for example, a victorian woman would, by default, wear skirts. if the character is contemporary, you’ve got a lot more wiggle room. if you want to mess with historical fashion rules for symbolic or story purposes, awesome, but i think that’s probably more advanced than you’re looking for right now.

if the setting is fantasy or sci-fi, what’s its dominant aesthetic? is it cyberpunk? sleek ~apple~ sci-fi? or is it more like star wars? is it medieval fantasy? woodsy faerie fantasy? JRPG-style fantasy? you get the idea.

what does your character do?

speaks for itself. what’s their job?

what is your character like, just in general?

this is where everything you know about their personality goes. if they’re a fussy courtier who’s worried about their reputation and appearance, they’re probably not going to be comfortable in plain, casual clothes.

what can your character afford to wear?

again, speaks for itself. do they buy designer brands? are they trying their best with what they have? or are they super strapped for cash and just have to get the job done?

does their social scene have an easily-identifiable aesthetic that you could work with?

does your character wear urban/street fashion or preppy rich-kid clothes? are they part of a subculture that dresses in a certain way, like teddy boys? do they have the desire or freedom to go all-in with that style, or do they have to play it down, like being corporate goth?

do they need to wear something they could travel, do hard work, or fight in?

goes with the job question above. do they need some kind of outerwear or accessory where they can hide weapons? do they always need to be ready, or is it situational?

basically, where does the character’s aesthetic need to sit on a chart of form vs. function?

what do other characters who are similar to your character wear?

look at your favorite movies, games, and TV shows and see what professional designers are doing with characters like yours. what colors and cuts are they using? what other elements do they choose? do you like them? if you don’t like them, what would you change? sometimes you can learn more from what you hate than what you love.

hopefully, you’ve already culled a huge swath of fashion ideas that you Know You’re Not Going To Do. you may still not know what you do want to do, either! that’s fine. let’s move onto some more artsy questions:

are there any colors your character would prefer or avoid?

it sounds silly. it’s not. a limited color palette will go a long way toward making a character’s outfits look unified and purposeful. obviously, in real life, most people don’t restrict themselves as much as fictional characters do. but if you were a costume designer, you’d want to have some guideposts to work with.

are there any motifs you associate with your character?

animals, elements, religious or cultural symbols, plants - you can sneak all these into their clothes’ details. maybe their dress has beading in the shape of a peacock, or rose earrings, or icy sparkles, or a bear pelt for a cloak.

have fun with meanings! moon motifs for mysteriousness, poisonous flowers, etc. let your inner lit major out.

do you want your character to have a certain silhouette?

this may seem odd if you’re just going to be writing your character and not drawing them, but think about it anyway. do you want to emphasize that your character is tall? is everything they wear skintight? do they have a large, unique hat?

a great example of this is maleficent. not only does she have a horn-shaped headdress, her huge, flowing robe tells us there’s a much bigger power in her than her body would suggest.

is there a certain ethos you want their clothes to project? what, in their world, would do that? what in our world would do that?

let’s say you want your character to look very powerful, to the point where people would find their looks alone intimidating. should they wear sharp, simple, severe clothes, maybe in dark colors? or should they wear very embellished clothes, like royalty? what are your setting’s ideas about beauty? modesty? does your character play by the rules, or do you want them to stand out?

what colors, shapes, and styles appeal to you personally?

for all the time i’ve spent talking about restrictions and guidelines, it’s important not to lose the fun of it, either. use your favorite color! give them clothes you’d want to wear in real life! character style is a playground where you can let wish fulfillment run wild.

at any time, feel free to turn to google or wikipedia if you’re not sure how to answer one of these questions. if you see an interesting idea, pick it up and follow it - what you’re doing here is training your eye, and that’s how you’ll learn. that said, if you’re already intimidated, i wouldn’t dive too deep into couture/aesthetic blogs until i had a more solid grip on how i wanted the character to look. it comes back to what i said earlier - there is such a thing as too much to choose from, especially when you’re not sure what you should be looking for yet.

there’s one other thing i want to mention that can help bring a character’s wardrobe together: repetition. if you’re planning several outfits for a character instead of just one, echo some of the motifs, shapes, or colors from one to the next. they don’t all have to be identical takes on the same thing, but if they have certain traits in common, they’ll feel less like separate outfits and more like a matched set. they could all be in members of the same color family or have similar patterns on them. maybe your character has a certain accessory that they wear with everything. you get the idea.

while i may not be able to plan your character’s wardrobe outright, i hope this makes the whole process seem more straightforward. or that it gives you some ideas to work with, or any other kind of help you might take away from it. this post is getting unfathomably long, so i’ll wrap it up, but i’d be happy to put any of my own characters through a “question test” like this one if you’d like to see how it works in practice.

finally, if you can find an interview with an artist or costume designer who worked on something you like, those things are worth their weight in gold. i read an interview with colleen atwood when i was in middle school, and it revolutionized the way i thought about fashion and storytelling. and when i say “revolutionized,” i mean “i owe basically everything i just told you to that article.” dig into them and see how they think and talk about their art! they’re more qualified to teach you than i ever will be.

#anon #asks #fashion #writing

54 notes · View notes

walkingshcdow-a · 5 years ago

Note

multimuse asks - 5, 9, 17, 19, 20?

Okay, so NOW it’s Munday | Accepting!

5. what are your criteria for adding new muses?

I think the biggest criterion is “Do I have time?” followed by “Will this muse leave me alone if I ignore him/her?” followed by “Yeah, but does he/she/they fit my Chaotic Goth Aesthetic(tm)?’

I really don’t consider whether there’s an active fandom to RP with or if my interpretation is “right” anymore. Admittedly, that’s made adding new muses/gaining new partners and interactions harder, but I can’t foresee myself changing how I do things any time soon.

9. which of your muses do you find the most difficult to get down correctly?

Probably Gleb, which is why he��s been on the second-longest hiatus I’ve ever put a muse on. I have a lot of unpopular opinions about him, used to get hate anons and thirst anons on my old blog and like... it’s all kind of made me lose sight of my original vision. The only reason he’s on hiatus and not removed enitrely is because I want to workshop him over the summer, if I have the time or interest.

17. how often would you say you add new muses?

I update my activity list every two weeks or so, but I add new muses maybe every three months. I usually take these muses down if they don’t make it out of “testing” and onto the dash.

19. what are some annoying things you have to deal with from others that solo blogs don’t?

Oooh a lot!

People never specifying which of my muses they want - or, if I give them a list, specifying someone not on the list.

No one paying attention to my activity tabs.

A non-specific URL. I am like, the best at URLs (I still have it, but my solo Rudyard was inthegroundontime which is AMAZING), but you wouldn’t know that because I went with a Ma.cBeth quote in case I stuck with my classic lit bent.

My OCs getting lost in the wash.

My female OCs getting lost in the wash.

Fear that my characters all sound the same and it’s more obvious on a MuMu.

People being disingenuous about which muse they want to RP with until I suggest a muse they Didn’t Want which is more hurtful than telling me who you want.

Single Muse blogs not taking a chance on me at all.

My muses ganging up on me on Sundays - and possibly unionizing.

20. which of your muses is the most responsive to crack interactions or dash fuckery?

LYNNA. Lynna. LyNnA!!! I wish I could explain to you just how vocal all of my muses are. I wish you knew that it’s a weird free-for-all when stuff happens on the dash. They all have opinions and comments and they are LOUD. They snark to each other. They snark about each other. They give each other (sometimes unsolicited) advice on each other’s ships. They form fanclubs and defense leagues for other people’s muses. It’s a wild time over here.

That said, Finnegan is usually the loudest because he’s my accidental right hand man. Don’t ask what that means, I couldn’t tell you if I tried.

#personnages #x. asks #x. munday #x. meme response

1 note · View note

theoneandonlykymberlee · 5 years ago

Text

Crybaby Pt. 1

This is part one of six. Olivia is my OC and this is probably kinda shitty but it’s been a long two weeks at work.

Ricky Olson/OC

Mentions of drug abuse, overdose, angst.

“FUCK!”

I threw all my stuff off my dresser, listening to the glass of the picture frames shattering against the wall as I cried and my heart felt like it was breaking out of my chest. I could hear my best friend running up the stairs and next thing I knew he was kicking my door in and dragging me against his chest.

“Olivia, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please talk to me.”

I just gripped his shirt tighter as he sunk down the wall and pulled me into his lap, looking at all the shattered pictures and makeup palettes.

“He left.”

Those were the last words I said to any of them, to my best friend of the last 15 years as he held me one last time and I cried.

They were also the first words I had muttered in over a week.

I moved one week later, the day the boys left for tour. I left behind the world I knew for a completely unfamiliar world I promised I would live in once upon a time ago. Living in plain sight as a ghost right under my ex boyfriend Ricky’s nose.

Funny how things end up. Things and people change, some for the better; others like myself for the worse.

When I left I was barely old enough to buy booze. Now four years have passed and I was so deep in a hole I didn’t know how to even begin digging my way out.

I was looking into the green eyes of the newest dealer scoring my latest fix of whatever drug I was taking this week, trying to some how bring the euphoria of being with him back into my life. Granted, I was going about it the absolute wrong way. I had died my hair, changed the color of my eyes with contacts to fit my mood of the week for as long as I could remember after he left me in the dust with only pain in his wake.

I moved to my safe haven, and bought the house him and I had been eyeballing online outright in cash, I sold majority of my most prized possessions to buy my dream house, and now it was all I had left.

“Hello. Heeeelllllooooo?”

I snapped out of my thoughts as his hand waved in front of my red contact covered eyes.

“Yeah Jase. Sorry.”

“75 even. You should be fucked up for weeks, let me know when you need more.”

I just nodded to him as he took my money and quickly walked away. I tucked my stash into my boot, clipping the bottom back on and making my way back into the bar I was currently working at. It was a busy Friday night and all the goth kids had come out to play with how close it was to Halloween. His band was also in town, so people were slowly filtering in from the theatre downtown where their show had just ended. I served until three when my boss Jana let me go home.

I smiled and kissed her forehead as I walked into the back of the bar, untying my apron and hanging it in my locker. I grabbed my purse and my bottle of water before I walked out into the front and lifted the counter to leave.

“Good luck tonight guys!!”

“SEE YOU MONDAY KILLER!”

My co-workers all smiled and waved to me as I made my way out the front door and into the cold, and an incredibly tall man and his shitty friends.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking. Totally my bad.”

I recognized him immediately as he smiled down at me. Christopher.

“It’s all good. Probably should’ve been watching the door.”

I just smiled my most convincing smile and bid him a good night. As I started walking off I heard AJ and Ryan’s footsteps.

“Hey. Wait up.”

I sighed and turned around.

“How can I help you gentlemen tonight?”

“You look really familiar.”

“I can honestly say I don’t know you guys, just the band. Have a good night.”

Both of them nodded and apologized as I shrugged and began to walk away.

“I could swear that’s her AJ. It has to be.”

I just kept walking until I reached the park and cut through before I outright ran towards my house. I got home in record time and unlocked the door, opening and closing it as quickly as I could, locking it behind me and kicked my boots off before taking my stash out of the hidden heel and making my way to my room.

Now if you ask me, downers are much better for me. They bring me nightmare free dreams.

Tonight would be no such feat.

I quickly undressed and took a ten minute shower. Washing the nicotine and sweat off my body and out of my hair. When I was done, I pulled a pair of fuzzy black pajama pants and a black tank top on and stepped into my bunny slippers before going into the living room and setting up.

Spoon. Check.

Torch. Check.

Dope. Check.

Needle. Check.

I lit the torch and sprinkled what my mind thought was a small amount of whatever I bought into the spoon, holding it over the flame and letting it melt down before sucking it up into my syringe.

Once I was done I tied my arm off and found the vein.

Last thing I always did was take a deep breath before injecting myself with a clear shot to hell.

It took a minute to kick in and before I knew it I was high as a kite on a summer afternoon, slumped on my couch listening to whatever music was playing on my tv until my phone started to ring. I picked it up and eyed the number, not knowing it as I answered quietly.

“Hello.”

“Olive, is that you?”

“Who’s this?”

I knew I was slurring my words, and I was about to drop over that precipice of being strung out for days as his name came over the speaker.

“It’s Ricky… can we talk…”

I couldn’t even form a sentence as I realized two things simultaneously.

One, I had done far too much as my body began to slowly shut down. And two, Ricky was on the fucking phone.

All I said as spots began to cloud my vision was ‘i fucked up, I bought the house. I fucked up, please help me.’ Before my phone hit the ground and the world went black.

#rickyolsonfanfiction #oliviadeveraux #myoc

2 notes · View notes

ask-gijinka-creationtrio · 6 years ago

Text

clarification on that bit on gender and contemplations on other stuff

If anyone actually bothers to read this lmao

Dialga: This question was pretty much inevitable.

Palkia: I’m honestly fine with being referred to as an “it”.

Giratina: Why the hell should we worry about “it” being “dehumanizing” when we’re not human to begin with?

Something that I knew would eventually get brought up is the genders of my interpretation of the trio. The simple answer is encapsulated in the prev post: they’re dragon gods. Gender is a societal construct; sex is for reproduction. Legendary entities that represent the fundamental laws of the universe don’t really have a need for either society or reproduction. So as with the games, they’re all officially non-binary/genderless.

That said, my designs gravitate towards one or the other. One reason is that i’m not creative, bold, inspired, or talented enough to really translate that genderless attribute into humanoid form. Another is that someone pointed out to me a while ago that Palkia has a low waist-hip ratio, stiletto clawed feet, and some designs will feature a more prominent chest. That and the gendered color-coding Pokemon started doing with blue males and red/pink females, like with the menu screens starting from Gen III, the Eon Duo, Jellicent in Gen V, and Team Skull Grunts in Gen VII.

That said, I’m not a huge fan of these reasons, as you could also make the counterargument that Palkia looks somewhat phallic. So I kinda wanna get into an Extended Rant™ on why I choose to depict my OCs the way, even though no one probably cares lmao

It starts out with the Kanji/Hanzi for “Universe”: 宇宙, Uchū in Japanese and Yǔzhòu in Chinese. You might recall it if you’ve read Pokemon Adventures.

You might also remember if you visited that one dude on Route 228 in Diamond and Pearl who gets yeeted out of his house by Cyrus’s contrite grandfather by the time Platinum rolls around. Okay, realistically, barely anyone probably does (that guy wasn’t that memorable), but he basically says the same thing as Cyrus in the panels above: 宇宙, coined by the ancient Taoists, esoterically means something like “the totality of extension” + “the totality of duration”. In other words, the ancient Japanese/Chinese word for “universe” is lit. “space” + “time”. This is actually a somewhat obscure, unnecessary detail that even many native speakers seem to be unaware of. It also ties in heavily with the Yin-Yang 陰陽 of Taoism.

I know Taoism is more a Gen V theme, but it’s a concept implicit throughout the franchise, hence games generally come in twos, sharing complementary/opposing or dualistic/dichotomic themes. Even trios tend to have the third member as the odd one out or mediator. There’s much more to the Yin-Yang than just Truth/Ideals and I sorta wish Game Freak would explore it more to really unite the franchise as a whole around the interconnected theme of both diversity and harmony.

The Yin-Yang isn’t strictly about Truth/Ideals as much as it is about the fundamentally dualistic nature of existence and the oneness implicit in the inseparability of coexisting complementary concepts. Thus, truth and ideals are two sides of the same coin, as are time and space as relativity revealed. The Yin-Yang is vague enough to basically be an umbrella representation term for any complementary duality. It should be noted that the feminine Yin and masculine Yang don’t refer to stereotypical/conventional notions of femininity or masculinity, but rather requires an abstract interpretation.

The Yin-Yang is composed of an active component, and a passive/reflective/receptive one. More easily understood in that one aspect creates the body and the other gives it life. One which shapes/nurtures/mothers being and one which animates/directs/fathers it. Abstract interpretations of the feminine Mother and masculine Father follow suit. As do dualistic concepts like particle and wave, existence and essence, ovum and sperm, object/entity and idea/concept, magnitude and direction, defense and offense, nature/tradition and technology/advancement (Gen I & Gen II), space and time (Gen IV), truth and ideals (Gen V), night/moon and day/sun (Gen VII), and shields and swords i guess (Gen VIII).

I excluded Gen III because among the classical elements, earth and water are both traditionally considered reflective/feminine, with fire and air being active/masculine, but i suppose if you factor in Primal Reversion in Gen VI, it works. With the Aura Trio, I read something unrelated but interesting about how apparently Ohmori Shigeru hinted at parallels between the Weather Trio and Aura Trio. Can’t find the source though. Blue - Seas were the first (Alpha) source of Life; Red - fiery, desolate Lands signify the Death of all in the end (Omega); Green - Order/Balance mediates between two forces of nature that can be malevolent/chaotic left unchecked, with the trio master possessing abilities that cancel out the other two.

Going off the rails a bit more, speaking of color-parallels, there’s probably going to be one of the subtractive colors between Gen VIII and the (highly probable) Gen IV remakes this generation, with Cyan - Dialga, Azelf, Lucas’ accents, Za-cian; Magenta - Palkia, Mesprit, Dawn’s accents, Za-mazenta; Yellow - Giratina, Uxie, Barry’s accents, whoever the third member of the Gen VIII mascot/box art legendary trio is going to be. I wonder how they’re going to incorporate the parallels tho

Anyway I digress. The ancient Daoists associated feminine Yin with 宇/Space and masculine Yang with 宙/Time by virtue of insisting the feminine aspect precedes, but even disregarding that, Space fits in with the Yin criteria of that which represents the body and Time fits in with the Yang criteria of that which initiates life.

So while they’re genderless, Dialga represents the concept of masculinity and Palkia femininity in their most pure, abstract, and universal form according to the Dao. While this doesn’t make Dialga a dudebro and Palkia whatever the hell the feminine equivalent is, in my mind, Palkia has a strong maternal instinct and Dialga is very much a dad. Giratina is weird chaotic goth aunt/uncle who gives u ur first taste of alcohol just to spite grandpa and reads fanfiction with candles and a glass of wine like it’s a fucking literary hour.

That’s my logic and explanation behind it anyhow. The distinction goes something like Palkia will concern itself more with the state or properties of something (who, what, where) whereas Dialga will concern itself more with the role or activity of it (when, why, how). As time and space are, however, they’re deeply intertwined and cannot be separated.

I might move this bit to a separate post somewhere down the line since this has already dragged on long enough, but I’ll share some thoughts on Giratina here and tie it in with the overarching topic of assigning gender roles lol. According to Game Freak, Giratina represents antimatter, but there are some inconsistencies. I know this shit has to be taken with a grain of salt because of Pokemon logic/science and whatever, but I gave it some thought regardless. My personal headcanon is that Altered Giratina represents dark matter/energy and Origin Giratina represents antimatter. Whatever tf Gira represents in Pokemon lore is based on a combination of the two, with the Reverse/Distortion World probably alluding to the idea of an anti-universe. Antimatter and dark matter are not really the same thing, but they’re both trippy cosmic constructs that sound somewhat similar, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . I wanted to make a distinction because while antimatter doesn’t distort spacetime any more than normal matter, it’s speculated that dark matter (actually dark energy) does, and is responsible for the rapid expansion of the universe.

This would also go along nicely with Gira complementing the the Spacetime twins while also complementing Arceus. It would also fit as justification for Giratina having to switch from Origin to Altered Forme upon entering the universe presided over by Dialga and Palkia, not because of the shift in spacetime stability, but rather due to the violent, annihilating reaction that occurs when matter and antimatter come into contact with one another. It’s by no means a perfect resolution hc, but it is one that I’ve gotten attached to.

Anyhoo, I designed Giratina to appear more androgynous (or at least attempted to). However, going by that masculine active/feminine reflective duality highlighted in the Yin-Yang, Origin Gira, with antimatter a reflection of normal matter, appears a bit more feminine-androgynous, whereas Altered Gira, with dark matter an active driving force for the expansion of the universe, appears a bit more masculine-androgynous (though iirc it hasn’t shown up yet and i’m not too great with consistency regardless). That was my idea behind it in any case. Origin Gira wears a binder under that big dastardly overcoat. i guess it’s technically genderfluid.

Digressing a bit, but another artistic choice was the skin tone of the trio. 0 points for subtlety on my part, but the color is Cosmic Latte, the average color of the universe. Like that bit on gender, I wanted to base it on some aspect of reality. I juggled between that and pure black with stars for freckles, but in the end i’m a lazy piece of shit who cuts corners for a living, so i settled on Primordial Clam Chowder because it was easier lmao. that’s why they pasty af

Anyways, if you have any design ideas or you wanna see a member of the trio in another form, feel free to submit your ideas or a magic anon or whatever!

TL;DR tbh this wasn’t even a structured rant it was just me going off the rails and sharing random useless deetz. this isn’t even a tl;dr. what the fuck

#might try to finish that cover image #well it's not like i edited much to begin with #pokemon #hc #gijinka #dialga #palkia #giratina #text #ask blog #analysis #long rant #pokemon analysis #sinnoh #gen iv

16 notes · View notes

writeouswriter · 6 years ago

Text

The OC Tag

Tagged by @kayemoriarty thank you!! (Wow, you’re right, this is really more about me than OCs)

Okay so I have like 10000 WIPs so this might be a little over the map, but here we go. This will probably be very long. I apologize in advance, but also have no shame.

If you could go to one of your OC’s bachelor/bachelorette party, which would you choose (also: who would have the wildest one?)

I write a lot of YA so most of my OCs are too young to get married and the older ones are too melancholy or busy fighting off demons and stuff to get married so I have no clue. Most of my character’s bachelor(ette) parties would probably get crashed by ghosts or monsters or ancient beasts and while that would totally be a riot, it’s not exactly how I want to go out. Um, okay, if I had to choose, Bachelorette party: Marilena (witch detective from my uf mystery series) because dark magic and liquor brewed into potions? Fortune telling and telekinesis and neon lights and snark. She knows how to throw a party! Bachelor party: Daven, (lead of one of my monster hunting agencies). His party will definitely be crashed by all the monsters, but you can’t say it won’t be a night to remember. And we get stupid antics between him and his best friends, the three guys who should not be in charge of an entire agency responsible for keeping the public safe from the paranormal. I think those are probably both some of the wildest ones.

When is your favorite time to write?

Whenever it is not convenient to write. AKA whenever inspiration strikes. AKA around 12AM to 2AM.

What’s your favorite relationship in your WIP (platonic or romantic)?

Jonah and Dezzy from my WIP Jonah and the Veil. They’ve been best friends since childhood and are in love with each other, but like not romantically. They love the way the other laughs, the way they sing, the way they dance when they think nobody is watching. They love going on adventures together, running through the woods and breathing in the crisp autumn air. They love the crease of their cheeks when they smile. They love the idea of growing old together. But their story focuses on Jonah’s fear that they’re going to drift apart after graduation, because what if she wants more, what if this is the end. Because of this, they then get tangled in this whole nightmare world where they have to work together to escape and their friendship is only strengthened and it’s really complicated to explain without backstory of the WIP, (He has the power to travel through the veil between reality), but anyway they have one of my most vivid relationships.

How far are you into your WIP?

On average of my many, many WIPS, I am not very far. Most are around 2000-5000 words in, then I get a bit lost, a few are as much as 15000-20000. My main ones currently hover around 8000-9000. So yeah... Um, next question.

If you were stuck in a broken elevator for twelve hours, which OC would you choose to be stuck in there with you? (Note: you have to be in there for the twelve hours! No Houdini escape!)

A lot of my OCs are terrifying reality warpers and I don’t know if that’s good or bad. Most of them don’t have control of their powers, so I’d say bad if our 12 hour elevator stay instead transforms into say an eternal timeless loop of some kind of hellish landscape, good if our 12 hour elevator stay instead becomes like a relaxing beach trip together. Not sure if I want to take the chance on that one though... Also this question just made me realize how many of my characters suffer from claustrophobia... also how many have uncontrollable powers I do not want going off within a 2ft radius of me... like werewolf? Haha, no thank you... If I want to hear terrifying visions of the future and quite possibly my death by plummeting elevator, Cyrus is my man. I do not want to hear that though so... God, I’m terrified to spend that long in an elevator with any of my characters. Something is literally just destined to go wrong. I’m going to go with one of my safest bets, which is Walsh, one of Daven’s friends and a medic for the agency, he’s funny, level headed and has a big imagination, but one that doesn’t horrifyingly come to life in twisted ways... plus he keeps tiny robots on him, so... that’s cool.

Favorite color?

Teal. Not blue, not green, not turquoise, teal, like goth turquoise.

Where would one of your OC’s propose to the other? (If this question isn’t up your alley, replace “propose to” with “surprise attack hug.”)

If Jonah and Dezzy were older (and not platonic), probably the top of the waterfall in the woods just less than a mile or so away from their houses where they’ve shared some of their best childhood memories, and where they had all their adventures (aka the small waterfall actually on our bush property in real life)

Which OC is most like you?

None! They are all like Keanu Reeves! No, uh... God, I have no clue, whichever is the nerdiest, but most sarcastic. Probably one of the teens from Daven’s crew, possibly Dezzy or Jonah because their story was inspired by my very nostalgic back country memories, and high school grad fears... their entire existence is from memories of mine, and inspiration from our own property (like I said, the waterfall, also fog lit fields and woods and etc.) But that’s more like their circumstances are like me, and not really them themselves. I actually try to make characters as least like me as possible... I mean, I share some traits with some characters, but I don’t think of any as inherently “like me.” I’m not a leather jacket clad monster hunter with cool hair and leadership skills. I’m not a hotheaded half demon with a fear of enclosed spaces. I’m not a snarky, bleach blond deaf guy who’s great with children and secretly rich. I’m not a calm insomniac scientist with schizophrenia who can walk through dreams. I’m not a vintage-y take action girl obsessed with finding the truth about aliens. I am however a major nerd who mashes a bunch of characters into one. I am also Ash’s sarcastic wit. I am Cari’s snarky confidence. I am Daven’s secret nerdy side. I am Jonah’s insecurity. Also Jonah’s love for his friends. I am Jaime’s fear of monsters in the dark. I am Olivia’s curiosity. I am Lydia’s love of oddities. The list goes on.

Do you prefer writing with ambient noise, music (if so, with or without lyrics), or in silence?

Silence, sweet, sweet silence. I get way too focused on lyrics if I listen to music, that’s all I can hear in my mind then, or too distracted by sounds and beats, though I do sometimes like to listen to music before writing, never during.

If you suddenly got the power of teleportation, where in the world would you go first?

I’m a big fan of the Irish countryside, I’d love to see there... I’d also love to tour some television sets or Vancouver or Hollywood. But like right away? That’s a lot of pressure. I’d probably just teleport to see some of my friends because I can’t drive. And that’d be cool to freak them out, wouldn’t it? Idk, I’d teleport into some jerk rich people’s bank vaults and take their money and donate it. I’d teleport to college, like nearest college is hours away, but teleportation? Heck, I don’t need to pay housing now, sign me up, those rich people’s bank vaults could also be donated slightly towards my tuition, don’t you think?

_______

Tagging (if you’d like, of course): @adricki, @lonely-pages-of-ink, @leskychuchu, @paperspensandwords, @charlottewritesthingsxx @whoever wants to do this, you can say I tagged you because I am lost when it comes to searching through usernames on here

#tag game #long post

10 notes · View notes

fanfickittycat · 7 years ago

Text

Study Break

TITLE: Study Break CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One shot AUTHOR: fanfickittycat FANDOM: Hemlock Grove CHARACTERS: Roman Godfrey x OC FIC SUMMARY: A oneshot in which Roman isn't a fan of studying and shows Viola exactly what he'd rather be doing RATING: M AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Posting this on my tumblr but you can also find it on my AO3 (link on my blog). I just recently started watching Hemlock Grove and this happened.

Roman Godfrey was bored. This was a fact. He had tried to read over the textbook page but he had no interest in any of the Bronte sisters, let alone Emily, who’d he’d cast off as ‘some ugly goth girl’ much to the annoyance of his girlfriend Viola who adored the book and anything else written by the Bronte’s. It was because of her that he was sat here pretending to study. Viola was many things, ambitious, creative, addictive, but perhaps most of all, studious. She actually enjoyed the process of studying, seeing it as an opportunity for competition. Competiveness was maybe one of Viola’s best and worst traits. Roman admired her drive but was often irritated when she would ditch him for her books. It was his constant whining that led her to asking him if he wanted to study with her.

“I don’t study” he had said simply, lighting a cigarette as he wound down the window of his car.

“I do, and if you’re that desperate to spend time with me then you will.”

Roman laughed in disbelief “I’m not that desperate to spend time with you” he said, turning his head to look out the window and hide his shifty eyes. His eyes were his tell. He knew this and he knew Viola knew this too.

She pecked his cheek “I’ll see you at ten am sharp tomorrow. Do not be late Roman Godfrey.” and with that she got out of the car and walked away without looking back.

Now he was here. It had been an hour and a half since he’d gotten there and the only sound in the room was the ticking of the grandfather clock and Viola’s pen scrawling over the pages of her notebook. Roman did not like to be ignored. He especially did not like to be ignored by Viola. He watched her carefully, hoping the intensity of his stare would get her to look at him but all he got was ten minutes of her nudging the end of her pen against her plump lips. The action reminded him of something else and he had to look down at his own, untouched pen. It was then that Roman was struck with what could only be described as true inspiration. He picked up the pen and dropped it. The sound didn’t startle Viola who was too lost in analysing genre conventions to notice Roman’s signature smirk. The one that meant he knew something and she did not.

Roman slid off the chair and onto the dining room’s cool wooden floor. His pen lay abandoned next to his chair leg and there it would stay. Roman had a very different target instead. Viola’s legs were bare, save for a pair of dark ankle socks that her mother had bought for her years ago. The colour had begun to fade making them a dark navy blue instead of their usual midnight hue. Her legs switched from being crossed over to stretched out, and her foot scarcely missed Roman who wet his lips with his tongue quickly at the sight. He waited momentarily for her to become comfortable in this new position and then he attacked. His tongue traced over her calf muscle on her right leg making her retract in surprise.

“Roman!” she squeaked, pulling back to see him under the table with that shit eating grin of his “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Studying” he said taking her right foot and slinging it over his shoulder as casually as he would with a jacket “I have an anatomy quiz on Friday and I think I ought to” he kissed the skin below her knee “brush up on my knowledge of the human body.”

“I’m studying Roman” she said, biting her lip to stifle a moan when his fingers began to graze along the smooth skin of her thigh.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t” he remarked, locking eyes with her as he nipped the skin making her hiss “go on” he said “get back to studying young lady, I know you can get that A.”

“I can’t if you’re distracting me.”

“Can’t you? Why Viola is that quitter’s talk I hear” he teased, revelling in how she frowned at him.

“No” she mumbled reluctantly, she chewed the inside of her cheek as she mulled over what to do. She could kick Roman out and get back to Heathcliff, the only man that should matter to her right now. Or she could play his game. She knew how it would end though, with her losing miserably and Roman delighting in his win with her juices running down his chin. She sighed in frustration, it was a lose-lose situation, even if she did push Roman out the door she would be too turned on to study properly.

She watched him nuzzle against her inner thigh, leaving bruising, open mouthed kisses on the apex of it. She hated Roman. She hated how much he distracted her and how good he was at what he did. Her breath hitched when he started to caress her neglected left leg, hiking it up onto his other shoulder expertly.

“I wish you put this level of effort into your schoolwork” Viola said finally. It was a weak jab but it earned her a grin from him.

“Oh could you imagine what I could do if I spent as much time between the pages as I do between your legs.” He pressed the tip of his tongue into the damp material of her panties, letting her wriggle to find the friction she desired. “Of course” he said withdrawing his tongue “if I did then I wouldn’t be able to do this with you.” His finger found her clit, rubbing it through the silky fabric of her underwear.

Viola clutched her pen tighter, letting the biro imprint its shape onto the pads of her fingers. She should’ve known that Roman would do something like this. Whenever the two of them were alone it would always end like this come rain or shine. Although perhaps it would be more apt to say come period or not… Viola’s mind couldn’t concentrate on anything more than Roman rubbing steady circles on her clit, looking like the cat who got the cream when he saw how wet she was getting.

“Don’t you like this Viola?” He asked almost innocently “isn’t this better than studying?”

“Shut up” she muttered, her hips had begun to shallowly thrust in the hopes of having him actually touch her the way she wanted him too.

Roman tsked “now, now Viola that’s no way to speak to your favourite study buddy. I’m just being a good partner here after all. Who else would take care of you and your body when you won’t?” He began to pull down her panties with his teeth, roughly tugging them off her ankles and stuffing into his pocket.

“Those are new.”

“Good. They’ll replace the old ones I keep in my glove compartment.”

Viola groaned in response, her hand had let go of the pen at this point and fell to the ground with a soft thud. Despite how quiet the noise was Roman couldn’t resist a small, victorious smile. I win Roman sang in his head before burying his face between his girlfriend’s legs.

Viola’s other hand became entangled in his hair, progressing from stroking to light pulls to more. It wasn’t hard to get caught up in the moment and Roman encouraged it. He liked to know how desperate she was for him. He lived for her reliance on his tongue to make her cum. The way she’d go from half whispering his name to screaming it was something that never got old. He sucked on her clit, letting his tongue trace the letters of her name upon it. A subtle way of marking his territory. His index and middle finger found her opening wet and inviting and he closed his eyes briefly to enjoy the sensation of her warm, tight walls coupled with the intoxicating taste of her, and the spilling of expletives from her lips. It was a heady concoction.

Viola’s steady chants of his name “Roman Roman Roman” became tighter, half speech half screams as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. He curved them, eliciting a “fuck!” from his girl which made the pit of his stomach hot with desire. His tongue changed up the pace and pattern often enough to have Viola’s eyes rolling into the back of her head; her mouth open.

“I’m so close Roman” she whimpered but even if she hadn’t said it he could still tell. He was so attuned to her body that he could read it a thousand times better than Wuthering Heights. He enjoyed it more too. Her thighs trembled, a signal that she was ready to explode, and he made sure to up his speed to push her over the top.

Viola did not believe in any great cosmic power but she did believe that Roman had a God given talent for making her reach highs she had never known had existed. Her body was spent, and the dining room chair drenched with her sweat. She hardly cared what her parents would say when they had come home from the tennis courts which they frequented. Her heavy pants were matched with Roman’s who briefly kissed her knee before taking out the pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket. He offered her one and she clambered down onto the floor to take one. He lit it for her and she took a drag, resting her head on his warm shoulder. Yes she decided silently to herself this was better than studying.

#updates #fanfickittycat #fanfic #fanficition #roman godfrey #hemlock grove #m #study break #mine #roman godfrey x oc #ofc #bill skarsgard

19 notes · View notes

jawnjendes · 4 years ago

Text

let go of any hesitation | shawn mendes

shawn x goth oc

a throwback to the original goth gf fic. this is right after slow, so read that if you want context. a bit of smut lies ahead.

masterlist | playlist

I don't usually think so hard. At least that's how it felt before that tall handsome singer sang his way into my life. My brain was loud enough already (thanks, gentlemen suitors of the past) but it never went on overdrive quite like this. I was "feeling different," as a wise man once said, but it wasn't in a bad way. That's what was so strange.

My mind kept trailing back to the night Shawn and I were in the backseat of his car. The flashbacks played like a movie whenever I stared at the wall for too long or simply watched him play guitar. All he did was use two fingers and now I was constantly zoned out just thinking about how talented he was. I missed half of my lecture notes in most classes because of this. Honestly, I wasn't that mad about it.

Mind you, I still had to follow my rules, no matter how much I wanted to break them. Shawn was still far too understanding about it, and didn’t try to initiate anything with me since then. It was also why he didn't invite me to his apartment yet. Whenever we went our own ways he kissed me and said "I'll text you," making it clear that we wouldn't see each other again that day. Let me tell you, I really had to fight with my brain to not overanalyze that because holy shit, I wanted to be next to him at all times.

At least he did text me. He wasn't as talkative through iMessage but the feeling was there. He would send me pictures whenever he was playing video games, or procrastinating doing his coursework. He frequently sent little clips of him playing guitar and singing, and that is some good shit. I could watch Shawn do the most mundane things and still be delightfully entertained. I was that much of a simp for him. All it took was two fingers and I was absolutely melting for him.

It was strange of him to straight up ask, "Can I send you something?" I got that text when I was back in my dorm, books and notes spread out in front of me on the living room floor. For once I was trying to focus on getting my research paper done instead of thinking about things that have already happened.

Stella was doing the same thing, her own spread of homework on the coffee table. She had been silent with her headphones in as she attempted to read from her history book. Meaning, she didn't look up when my phone went off for the third time that study session.

I looked at the text, puzzled. I sent back a "sure lol" and went back to studying, although the anticipation of Shawn's response was sitting on my shoulders now. My eyes flickered between my phone and my laptop for the next five minutes, and it was embarrassing how quickly I snatched my phone when it lit up again.

I got a fucking paragraph.

"Just letting you know that you don't have to send anything back. And let me know if I'm overstepping too. I've just been thinking about you a lot lately, especially when we were in my car the other night. I want you to see what you do to me."

My face went hot immediately. It should have been a no brainer, given how hard I was simping. But I had to force my brain to function.

We might just start sexting. We might just go another step further. Was this breaking any rules? Was he overstepping? No… he was asking. I didn’t have to do anything on my end. Besides, if any sexual act went against my rules, then they were already broken. On top of that, rules are fun to break.

I typed, "oh it's that kinda something?👀 lol yea send whatever you wanna send."

I looked at my laptop again and nothing about my previous task was processing anymore. What even is homework? I started to gather up my textbooks, notes, and my laptop almost frantically, and I didn't say another word to Stella as I went into my room. Didn't need her seeing how red my face went.

The time that Shawn took to respond felt like years. I put all my things away and sat down on my bed, nervously rubbing my hands together. My phone sat in front of me, silent and almost mocking me. How much of Shawn was I about to see? How bad was the temptation of yeeting myself to his place going to be this time?

When I got a notification, I hesitated. My heart was beating incredibly fast and hard as I stared down the device, and I nearly jumped when it beeped again. He sent two things. Fuck.

"God fuck shit fucking-" I mumbled as I reached for my phone and opened the messages.

A video from the waist down. Shawn was laying on his bed in these particularly tight grey Calvin's. The bulge he was sporting twitched once, twice before his tattooed hand gripped it tightly. And that was it. The second thing he sent was just the smirk emoji.

My throat went dry, my breath hitched, and everything from my lower waist went warm and tingly. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen, and my mind immediately filled up with images of what he could possibly be doing next. That's what was so good about it. It wasn't as in-your-face as a straight up dick pic. This video had just the right amount of teasing and sexiness that left me wanting more.

Shawn is very good at this.

"👀🔥" What the fuck else was I supposed to send? I didn't know how to use words anymore.

"Been thinking about you for a while…❤"

"Hoo boi," I whispered. "Hoooo boi…"

I sent back a blushing emoji and a black heart. I wasn't sure whether to fully engage or not. Is it breaking my rules if he sends me these things and I don't send anything back? Not that I could, I was so speechless by what he had packing and the fact that he was thinking about me in this state.

I nearly yelled when he asked if I wanted more… because he had been touching himself for a while already and he was close.

"Yes pls👀🔥" Thank god we weren't talking on the phone, I would have been a stammering mess.

And the waiting game resumed. My body felt hot and restless, so I got up to go lock the door and continue pacing the small room. I had to fan myself like a flustered fool, trying to keep the sweating to a minimum. Then, I practically ran to my bag on the floor and pulled out my headphones, just in case.

When I was ready and settled back on my bed, I had a new notification. I all too eagerly opened the message and saw the thumbnail of the next video.

Shawn had set up his phone and angled it so only his naked torso could be seen from the side. The V in his hips were in the shot too, and his hand was running up and down his body. My eyes followed his hand and the realization that he was completely naked hit me like a bus.

I plugged my headphones in before the sounds of his staggered breath could fill up the room. My eyes were almost comically wide as I watched him touch his own chest and abs. Then, his hand was reaching below the waist and moving in that oddly erotic up and down motion, and his breath hitched.

Next thing I knew, my own hand was going down into my shorts. My eyes stayed fixed on the movement of Shawn's arm and the sound of breathy moans. He wasn't loud enough to use his voice but it was absolutely enough to get me going. My own breathing was matching his.

His free hand was feverishly moving up and down his body, gripping his thigh before switching it up and using that hand to get himself off. That was how I learned his tattooed hand was in fact the dominant hand. Wet sounds mixed with his soft moans as he vigorously pumped himself. His hips were moving swiftly with his hand movements, and all I could think of was Shawn thrusting his hips into mine. It sent a shudder down my body, and I kept working under my shorts.

He got more and more into it, using his whole body as well as his hand, and then his back arched in an incredibly delicious way as he started to shake. Within seconds, little spurts of white hit his abdomen and he let out a string of deep grunts. His body shook and twitched with every pulse, erratically pumping himself dry. Finally, he sighed in great relief (what a wonderful sound it was), and his body relaxed.

My mind was on another plane by the time the video ended. Fantasies of barging into Shawn's apartment and riding him until my thighs were sore kept plaguing me. I had an urge to lick up what he just let out, and the need to be close to him increased tenfold. The simple idea of having his hands on me pushed me to the finish line, and I was quietly groaning and clenching my thighs.

This guy is really going to be the death of me.

With shaking hands, I typed up a response. "Nice. Cool. Real cool. 💯🖤"

_______

goth gf taglist: starting a new list so lmk if you wanna be added

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn x goth gf #mine

29 notes · View notes