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estevand · 5 years ago

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This is the woman Ive loved for 5 years. this was only 2 years into our relationship. I have had a rough life. Most of us all have. I lost my sister at 8 years old. I had to go through being judged for being a dark skinned kid with a white mother. The amount of times my family and I will be out somewhere and someone says to my mother “ Oh its so wonderful that you adopted all these kids” all because my one sister is full white and me and my other siblings arent Is fucking appalling. I was forced to drop out of highschool at 17. I’ve never had a father figure. After my sister died he tried to come back. and after my sister died my mom just emotionally and mentally gave up. my stepdad was an abusive alcoholic. and my mother has been a very non faithful woman to every man she dated after my step dad. Theres honestly so much more to talk about but theres no point. Id be writing a fucking bible if i were. But this woman. This beautiful, crazy, caring, selfless, goofy monument of a woman. She is the reason I have kept myself out of trouble. I was not in a good place when we met. I was hanging out with the wrong people. I was doing xanax everyday. multiple bars a day sometimes. I was such a lost soul just searching for a purpose. I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do with my life. I felt worthless. I had a job but that didnt mean anything to me. Ive always been the outcast. Ive always kept to myself and been a very shy person. But when I met her, The feeling of worthlessness was gone. We met at cheerleading. We both did competitive cheerleading at the same gym. When I first saw her walk in the gym I remember I looked to my friend Jared. I looked at him and said “ who the hell is that” and he looked at me and just laughed. We both knew she was out of my league, and there was no way that she would even give me the time of day. She walked with this aura. By aura I mean she had an atmosphere to her. When she would walk past me I would just have this gut feeling. I knew she was everything I ever wanted in a woman. She was stunning. Just the way she walked around the gym. It was almost like she knew that my eyes were constantly on her. I was just struck by this sense of “You NEED to be MINE”. I still remember the first time we kissed. We weren’t dating. We were at a competition in D.C. we were in the bleachers watching other teams perform. The smell of Aquanet, and cheap shitty convention center food in the air. Me and her friend who was also on our team. I remember the lights from the stage shining back towards us every couple seconds. I timed it so every time the light came back to us I would quickly stare at her. It wasnt because it was dark. It wasnt because of how her cheer makeup was done. Every time I looked at her I felt home. I couldnt help but stare at the beauty literally shining off of her. The way she looked off into the distance, just made me so love struck. It was like I was discovering a new emotion. I thought I had loved previous girlfriends before. But this was real. I remember her looking away. I got closer to her. I cant remember What I actually said but I remember catching her off guard. I leaned in and she just was ready for it just as I was. When our lips touched it was other worldly. the feelings I got I had never felt with anyone. Thats when I knew. I knew I was going to be with her forever. we became best friends before we even started dating. We were so comfortable with each other it was insane. I mean for 3 years straight we were inseparable. We both moved out together. I was her first boyfriend. She was my first real girlfriend. We were so in love. So happy. Now I’m alone and terrified. I fucked up multiple times in our relationship. I watched my mother cheat on every man shes ever been with. I cheated. I still dont know why. Maybe it was me being so selfish because I had everything I wanted. Maybe it was because I watched my mother cheat on every man she dated. Maybe its because Im actually fucking stupid. I dont know. What I do know is theres no excuse for it. I gave up my perfect relationship. The woman that gave me my first born child. for someone who I never wouldve even looked twice at if i passed them on the street. I had no idea what I had. I’ve now spent months working to get my relationship with her back on track. When she left me I wasnt just broken hearted. I was dead. Literally emotionally dead. I had no feelings for anyone or anything. I tried doing everything I do to make me happy. I tried playing video games, I tried working out, I tried playing music. Nothing could over come the feeling of self hatred and self humiliation. But than I sat there and thought to myself. This is what I made her feel. She did nothing to me to make me cheat. I broke her god damn heart. The woman that I promised my late sister that I would never hurt. I destroyed her trust for me. no matter how much I try to prove to her shell never be able to look at me the same. Im still the same person. I just fucked up and wasnt grateful for what I had. I’ve been living with this demon weighing on me. Knowing I did what I did. something I promised myself that I would never do. I did it to the one person that actually mattered to me. It’s so hard having to try and rebuild what I had with her because I know deep down the only reason she is even giving me a chance to try and be anything with her again is because we have a kid together. Ive prayed so much just hoping that god will help me. I didnt even believe in god until I met her. But she changed that. just like how she changed my whole life, I want nothing more than to be back together and be a family again. its so fucking disappointing. Knowing that I’m that scumbag. But I’m a human. I’m learning everyday and growing everyday. I want to be the man she can trust. I want to be the man that she knows I am. And most importantly I want my son to have two loving parents that love each other to no limits. I just need her back in my life. Even if she decides to tell me she can never be with me again. I’ll accept it. Even tho I’m gonna be devastated. I’ll accept. Because at the end of the day thats the girl I love. If shes gonna be happy with someone else unfortunately thats what i want for her. I guess thats how you know our love was real. Because even if she was with someone else I’d still love her like i did 5 years ago. Id still love her like I did a year ago, a month ago, a week ago. Id still love her like I do now. But I want her happy. If she cant be happy with me than the choice is already made. so for now I’ll keep praying. Ill keep on the path im on working and trying to get our relationship mended. All I want is to have the love of my life back. I’ve realized the things I’ve done wrong. And I just want to fix it.

#cheerleading #feelings #journal #help #mentallhealth #love #relationship

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thebritishblabbermouth · 6 years ago

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Suga Fanfiction (part 2)

Heyyyaa...heres part 2. Its got swearing in it and smut. But fluff too..theres going to be a part 3 as well. Let me know what you think! Also I am very very very very shy about the smut so please let me know what you think...it’ll mean everything to me :)

this is for you @atricksterwithwings let me know what you think :))

Heres Part 1 if you havent read it yet :)

It was 5 pm by the time I came home, even though I had barely gotten any work done. The look on your face; hurt and dejected as you ran away from my arms seemed to be plastered onto the back of my mind and no amount of distraction could peel it away. I had wanted to rush out immediately, tell you I didn’t mean any of my cruel words but it would’ve been counterproductive. We needed to end this. And the only way you would leave would be if I had hurt you enough to push you away.

What a damned dick move.

I was sure you would’ve left by now, my apartment must've returned to its barren state- just as you had found it not 2 years ago and it was all the more reason for me to stay cooped up inside the walls of my studio, praying I didn’t have to face you as you walked out of the door.

But it wasn’t pitch black and cold as I walked in. Rather it was warm, and smelt fucking delicious. There were candles everywhere and you were wrapped up in a giant white hoodie- its ends skimming the middle of your bare thighs and your hair whisked away into a loose knot at the top of your pretty head.

If there were a definition of perfection- it would be this.

‘’Yoongz! I have food and a movie too! I know our date day didn’t go as planned but that’s okay, this is way cuter don’t you think?’’ You tried to balance the bowls of steaming goodness between your dialogues, cute pink tongue darting out- as if it were the only way to balance everything completely. The action went straight to my head and I almost chuckled, almost breaking down the entire aura id build around myself. This had to stop. How were you so unfazed? How did the insults not make a difference? You should’ve walked out- called me an asshole and left me to my own wits. But here you were, clad in my sweatshirts, beaming like the fucking sun.

‘’You really have no self-respect do you? Clinging onto me like a needy bitch. God. Do I have to spell it out for you? Leave me alone!’’

I saw the colour drain from your cheeks, the usual pink hue falling as it you paled, eyes drooping with exhaustion as my words finally hit you.

This was it.

This was the end and I just needed to hold on for a little longer before breaking down, needed you to fully walk away before I hit the imaginary self-destruct button on my life.

‘’Do you know how much of a selfish asshole you are Yoongi?’’

You never swore. Ever. It was awkward hearing the insults from your mouth and it felt worse knowing they were all directed at me.

‘’Two years ago, you told me you loved and that you had to have me or you’d die, and I let you lead me, let you take me into everything that was you and I couldn’t be happier. You made me feel loved and warm and like I actually belonged in this world. Like I mattered. You made me feel like I was worth being protected and taken care of! Even when you weren’t here, when you were off on your endless tours or your head was too busy taking care of job and the boys- it was fine! Because I knew you loved me! Because I knew that no matter what, at the end of the day- I was yours and you were mine and it would all be okay!’’

Tears streamed down your now rosy cheeks, lashes thick and wet- your voice breaking and cracking as you spoke but strong nonetheless. This is how you were.

Strong even when you were weak.

You walked towards me, almost as if you were going to burn me down. And I silently prayed that you would. End me Entirely, before everything else did.

‘’And now Yoongi. You’re a fucking coward. Selfish and just petrified. When you loved me, you had to have me. And now, when things are hard- when work is hard and when you’re fucking afraid to admit that you’re scared shitless- afraid to let me take care of you, you push me away. Because that’s what you do. You push people away when they want to love you.’’

You had me cornered into the wall, your nose tilting upwards- eyes trained on mine as you spoke. It was quieter now. As if you had to make a point and make me understand.

‘’And right now, if you think I am going to walk away from you, leave you to ruin yourself and everything that you’ve worked hard on, let you walk over us like this. You’re damned stupid and delusional because I am not going anywhere!’’

‘’You’re crazy! I am not afraid of shit! I need to get work done! I need to be the best and I need to give those 6 boys what they deserve! You won’t ever understand that because somehow you’ve always been the best! At everything! At working, at this relationship, at loving despite all of my flaws and it’s insane! It’s driving me mad that you’re this amazing! I can’t keep up with it! I can’t keep up with you, I can’t give you what you deserve and what you need! So just g-’’ I screamed as loud as I could, tried to pry your hands away from myself but there was no stopping you.

No stopping the way you crashed your lips onto mine and cradled my head in your hands, no stopping the tears I could feel on my mouth, along with your taste, fucking honey and cherries and everything I needed to give up. I didn’t realise when you had me falling onto the couch, sitting on me and raking your fingers through my hair as we kissed. Calmer now, desperate but needing- wanting, sweet yet fierce.

‘’We’re going to crash and burn. The fans, they’re going to hate us because of this new album and you know me, I’ll live through it, but the boys. God, Jungkook and Jimin and Tae, they won’t be able to take it, it’ll be nightmare.’’

You inched yourself closer to me, wrapping yourself around me as you placed your lips on my cheeks, covering the tears I didn’t even know I had shed. My hands rested on your hips, shoulders slumped with stress and exhaustion. I couldn’t fight it anymore. Couldn’t even fight it if I tried.

‘’Did you know? Burnt soil is one of the most fertile kind out there?’’

I ignored the little fun fact and took to rubbing at your soothing skin, it was only minutes before I stripped you from the confines of the sweatshirt. I needed to feel you, burn with you. It was the only way Id be able to calm my heart.

‘’If this album doesn’t work, if you fall, pummel to the ground and lose all of your fans. Does it mean its over? Does it mean that everything has died?’’ Your eyes widened as I held onto you tighter but you continued talking, your words- providing a kind of comfort I didn’t know existed.

‘’It means you get to start over. Do something new. Change things up and rise like a phoenix. It’ll be hard and it’ll hurt but if theres one man I know who can pick himself up from ground zero- its you Yoongi.’’ You booped my nose as you spoke and I pulled the sweatshirt from your skin, releasing a wave of unshed tears as I laid my forehead onto your bare chest.

‘’You’re so strong Yoongi, and so loved. How could you possibly think you’d fail? You’re Min Genius, smart and intelligent and strong and passionate. You’re their vision Yoongi, the boys- they look up to you, and they don’t see an image you’ve made. No. They see you raw and whole. Just like me. They see someone who tries their best, someone who dares to dream with their eyes open and they see someone who loves unconditionally. They’re stronger than you think, and so are you.’’ You stroked my hair as you spoke and my breath hitched at your words.

‘’And the matter of someone destroying you? Baby…you’re fucking bulletproof.’’

I chuckled at the reference and you smiled, the curves of your lips reaching your eyes and making them twinge with excitement. God you were beautiful, and I’d thought of pushing you away. I didn’t have the words in me, to apologise, to ask for forgiveness. Because I was a selfish asshole and I knew how to take. How to bring you into my world.

And you were an angel, because you knew how to rescue me from it.

‘’I love you.’’

There weren’t any other words I could’ve said, nothing had the power like the three id just stated. And you smiled again, this time because of me, and I swear I felt like heaven because you were in my arms.

‘’Then show me.’’ You whispered, as if it were the only thing I'd ever need to do in life. And damn, you nipped at the silver loop that hung from my lobes. Beautiful and strong and such a fucking tease.

I pushed you onto the couch and kissed you deep, my tongue finally tasting your sweetness as you moaned deliciously into my mouth. Hot and eager. Just for me and just how I liked it.

‘’You’re so fucking perfect baby.’’ I said, because it was the truth. Because I felt the words with every inch of my soul.

It was a requirement, a compulsion- a damned drug to me. Your breasts and how they felt against my palms, soft and warm beneath my skin and you gasped, arching upwards as I took one in my mouth, aching with need as you groaned beneath me, begging me to touch you where we both wanted most.

You were soaked through, waiting and wet, just for me. But I had to take my time, had to show you I still loved you even though I was a jerk, I was stupid and afraid- just like you’d said. I swirled my tongue around your navel and your hands found my hair, dry and rough from the constant dying and glamour but god the way it felt when you tugged on it, my hard on aching with every innocent pull.

‘’I am going to make you come baby, you want that? You want to feel me?’’

‘’Please. I want you. Only you. Now.’’

Your words were halved and stuttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as I traced your nub with my fingers, it throbbed beneath my touch and I growled at the attention, teased and pulled it as I suckled your skin.

‘’Yoongi no…just please…’’

It was beautiful, watching you writhe and shake, and I eased my finger into your dripping heat as you whimpered into my mouth, almost tearing as I worked myself into you.

‘’I don’t deserve you love. Not one bit of you. But you said I was selfish, and I am. Please let me be, let me be selfish for you?’’ I whispered into your ears and you came all over my fingers, sweet and beautiful. Pure, and all for me.

I pulled you into my arms and laid behind you, my raging hard on pressing into your skin as my hands travelled the side of your frame, choosing to rest of their own over your heat. It was possessive and animalistic and you purred against me, requesting ever to sweetly to let you take care of me. But I needed to be with you tonight, to feel your skin and love you. Let you know that perhaps I wasn't always that selfish, that I could give before I took.

"I love you Yoongi. And even if it takes time... Even if you leave. I am not perfect, far from it. I always do stupid things, but you're a fighter Yoongi. You're strong and brave and so much more... Don't give up just yet baby? It'll be hard but-" I sealed your pretty mouth with mine, eating up all of your goodness as I saw your eyes tear, with pride and strength. All for me.

"I am not giving up beautiful. I can't. Because my angel won't allow it. Because I won't allow seeing her cry over the thought of it."

It was awkward for me, to say things out loud, to reassure and comfort. But for you, for you I'd try. For the blush that grazed you neck and warmed you skin just a little more than the subsiding heat, I'd move mountains and oceans, bring stars and planets to your feet.

And so I kissed you and held you, as you did me, my arm tucked under your head as you snored against it. My hand nestled between your legs as they wrapped around mine, encasing me and shielding me from my own turmoil.

It was easy. It was beautiful and we were whole, complete and loved.

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vividfragments · 6 years ago

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21 Questions!

I was going to take a break from this website but @surrealistwaltz tagged me for this 21 questions quiz, thank you!! This is gonna take me back to those 2005 Myspace days, these are fun.

Nicknames: My names Philip so a lot of family and even a few coworkers call me Philly which is nice, it's comforting and endearing. Also one of my friends mom called me Philomena and another friends Dad would call me Philbert which made me laugh. Also probably some bad ones lol.

Zodiac: I don't really put a lot of stock in zodiac signs but I'm a Leo

Height: I'm 6 feet or 1.82 (omg) meters tall.

Amount of sleep: I dunno what this is asking but I got like 4 hours last night?

Last movie I saw: I just recently watched deadman, its one of my favorites. It's kinda like an artsy, psychadellic, like, I dont wanna say western because that genre has an lot of tropes and cliches that this movie doesn't really have but it's set when industrialzation was starting to spread towards the west, more specifically to the film, the Pacific northwest of the US. It's a good movie to watch on a rainy, chilly night.

Last thing I googled: what 6 feet is in meters ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I suck at math.

Favorite musician: I'm taking this question as favorite single musician and I have lots but the first 2 that come to my head are Chopin and Klaus Flouride (one of my fav bassists)

Song stuck in my head: literally Voices Carry by 'Til Tuesday. I was in the market today and it was playing and I was singing it to myself, then I noticed a lot of people were doing the same and they were all different age groups and genders, it was cute. Damn that song is catchy... ~oooooooooh shush...

Other blogs: This is my only blog!

Do I get asks: Lol I actually haven't had an ask yet. Wish I did though, I can be fun sometimes.

Blogs following: I like following lots of different stuff. This is a place I like, try to expose myself to art, music, and other things that put my heart in a nice place. It can backfire sometimes though, whether its something that puts me into feelings or seeing people being stupid in comments or you know, the fact racist blogs can exist on here. I'm happy I made this though, it's been more positive than negative for sure.

Lucky numbers: 4, 33, and 44

What I'm wearing: I'm wearing some sort of cardigan like sweater that doesnt open up or have buttons and its burgundy (my fav color) with black jeans and socks tbh. Also my glasses.

Dream trip: Prague would be interesting, theres a lot of cool art and architecture there. I'm not religious or anything but I feel like visiting St. Peter's Square would be really surreal and kind of creepy? Going to a place like Australia or what @surrealistwaltz said, Greenland would be neat. I feel like those places could make you feel as though you're on a completely different planet.

Dream Job: I wanna teach history! Preferably high school, then if I cant stand how kids act I'll work my way up to the collegiate level. I wanna teach history because looking back at what we learn in schools here in America is watered down, especially when it comes to the bad that Americans have done and the negative impact its had on groups of parole and honestly, bug chunks of the globe.I believe there needs to be at least on teacher in a students k-12 scholastic career who calls out the borderline history revisonment that is being taught to kids so wrecklessly. The United States definitely needs to do what they do in Germany when it comes to teaching about atrocities committed in the past. Whomever is on the winning side of history should NOT MATTER. If theres a group of people that has been suppressed or continues to be suppressed, there needs to be at least ONE person who introduces the brutal hard truth of what happened. Here in the states you get the "I didn't participate in slavery or the genocide of Native Americans, it's not something I need to hear in detail" and it literally pisses me off, it misses the whole point of education. This fires me up, sorry.....

Favorite food: literally any type of pasta or noodles. It doesnt matter if it's in soup, if its Italian, Chinese, Japanese, vietnamese, if it has noodles and doesn't have meat then I'm so happy to just demolish whatever is in front of me. Also chips and salsa is refreshing and satisfying. I'm half Mexican so any type of Mexican food that doesn't use anything from animals is always a go to. My fav fruits are cherries, tangerines, and pears. My favorite veggies are asparagus, green beans, broccoli, and Brussels sprouts. I can make some v good Brussels sprouts.

Languages: ehh I speak pretty bad Spanish but the foundation is there so when I decide to take it back up when I go to a university, I should be able to learn a lot easier than I did in high school. If not because I have foundation and basic understanding of the language then its because I actually WANT to learn it as opposed to when I was a teenager. German would be really cool too because if I teach and I get upset I can just yell in German and people would think I'm actually insane and hopefully would cut out whatever nonsense they were doing.

Play any instruments: I play Bass off and on. I first got my bass when I was 12, I would just mess around until I was like 14, then I taught myself how to read bass tabs so if there was a song I really liked, I could look up the tablatures and teach myself how to play it and still do that. I wish I would've taken lessons though.

Favorite songs: I have a lot but I'll give a top 5 that I listen to regularly and/or have a special connection with:

Joe Lies by the Bouncing souls

Happy When it Rains by The Jesus and Mary Chain

Bad by U2

When You Sleep by My Bloody Valentine

Oh me, Oh my by Streetlight Manifesto

*bonus guilty pleasure* The One by Backstreet Boys

Random Fact: I can pop my knuckles by just clinching my fist tightly? Also I'm really into ceramics so if I have some clay, kiln, and some glaze I can make stuff on a pottery wheel or hand build it. Mmmmmm also I'm like, really into quoting spongebob. It's kind of gotten out of hand. Also I'm using this question to give a shoutout to my dog, ABBY I LOVE YOU!! I love my dog, she's a ham.

Describe your aesthetic: ...Artsy and rebellious dad... who's cool with you smoking weed as long as you keep your grades up.....

THAT WAS FUN AND MADE ME GENUINELY HAPPY THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME!!!!

Since I brought up Myspace I'm not tagging anyone, we're doing this the 2005 way. If you follow me and are bored or wanna talk PLEASE do this, I wanna read your answers :)

#fun #21 questions #do this #why are quizzes so much fun

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larryfanfiction · 8 years ago

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Ao3?

objectlesson

Tumblr?

xabjectlessonsx

Name?

Phoenix

Age?

How long have you been a fan of One Direction?

Oh god, I only got into them in May, and even then I wouldn’t have felt comfortable calling myself a fan until around July or August. So only about five months! I’m a baby Directioner, probably why I’m not dead inside yet.

What is your favorite fic?

Wild and Unruly by 100percentsassy and Gloria Andrews. It’s seriously one of my favorite works of art in the entire universe, it’s the romance novel I wish I had when I was seventeen and longing for queer cowboys and drama and star crossed lovers and angst. It’s perfect. I feel like they looked into my soul and saw how much I needed ranch Harry singing Dolly Parton to a cow, and an almost kiss happening after he sucks amniotic fluid out of a calve’s nose. That is just so up my alley. I absolutely adore that story, everything about it. It probably helps that I have a cat named Jolene who I’m more than a little obsessed with.

When did you start writing?

I’ve been writing since I was a tiny child (my mom would hand bind my ‘books’ with ribbon!) but I’ve been writing fan fiction for like fifteen years. The first fic I ever wrote was when I was 12, and it was bandom slash so I apparently haven’t changed much.

What was your favorite fic to write and why?

My favorite 1D fic to write was probably A Little Love is Better than None because it was one of my very first ventures into the fandom so I was still figuring out their characters and voices, which was such a pleasure. It just sort of flooded out really easily and naturally too, like it was waiting to be written. I also LOVE to write pining and Harry pines HARD in that story.

How and where do you find inspiration?

Everywhere, honestly! I’m a people watcher and I really enjoy writing in chaotic environments like the food court at the mall, partially so I can constantly be observing the mess of humanity around me and draw energy from that. I’m also really inspired by the raw material of this fandom. You probably noticed I mostly write canon fic, and that’s largely because this canon is so incredibly rich with lore and evidence and text, it’s begging to be mined for the sake of storytelling. I watch interviews all the time (there are so many holy shit) and I take so much inspiration from them, just watching these boys interact and observing their power dynamics and their body language and their patterns and evolution and chemistry. I’m not sure I’ve ever stumbled into a fandom so inspiring, honestly.

Are any of your stories influenced by personal experience?

VERY MUCH SO. I draw enormous amounts of inspiration from my own experiences as a queer teenager navigating sexual exploration and heartbreak. I love writing queer coming of age stories in part because I wad so deeply and indelibly affected by the love and pain and longing and newness I felt as an adolescent, the first time I fell in love or has my heart broken. I love trying to capture the enormity and terror of teenage love in my writing.

How do you get over writer’s block?

I go read fanfiction!! Nothing helps be reframe my own writing than reading talented authors who are perhaps telling the same story (two guys meet and fall in love and are changed forevermore) but telling it in an entirely different way.

How often do you sit down to write? What does your ideal work setting look like?

I try and write every other day at least but it gets hard with life and work and whatnot. That being said, I usually write at least three times a week for several hours when I’m really in the middle of something. Ideally, I’m at a corner table with an outlet at a busy Peets Coffee, listening to a playlist I made specifically for whatever I’m writing, and sipping a latte! I love writing in chaotic, crowded places with lots of people and energy occupying the space. Unfortunately, I don’t always get first pick of coffee shop and end up writing a lot at the Starbucks by my work, which is not ideal but definitely my stomping grounds.

Pick 3 things that are absolutely necessary to make a good story!

TENSION, MUTUAL PINING, AND DRAMATIC RESOLUTION!!! I absolutely LIVE for slow build stories with lots and tension building over thousands of words. Live for it. I love those moments where the air is crackling and they’re both breathless and electric and terrified, wanting each other so bad without knowing for certain the other is truly interested?! My absolute favorite. Of course, there has to be a resolution though, and the ones that work best for me are dramatic and have a double reveal…like I totally enjoy the tension breaking over something physical like a kiss, but I really love when they actually talk about if afterwards. Like, “I had a crush on you the whole time!!” “No way, me too!!!” Only…better written, you get the idea.

A good character in literature is usually one that goes through a lot of changes and grows dynamically from beginning to end. What is/are your favorite character arcs, and could you give us an example of one from one of your stories?

My favorite character arc is when a teenager is starting to really explore and understand his or her sexuality. Navigating the terror of that desire, forging the storm even though it’s scary, and being rewarded ultimately with mutual love is something I never, ever get tired of reading in all its incarnations. For example, Louis figuring himself out in A Taste of Poison Paradise, realizing how his experiences with Hannah compared to what he was feeling with Harry, and attempting to shore up that part of himself and his history in the face of falling in love so suddenly. MY JAM.

What is your favorite genre/tag to write?

PINING!!! Also love Hurt/Comfort and a number of different kink tags I wont go into ;)

Are you currently working on something? Can we have a little preview?

I’m working on sooooo many different WIPs! Here’s a little teaser from one of my many X Factor stories in the works:

Louis scrolls through his music for the right song and Harry steals glances at his face, the sharp line of his cheekbone somehow existing alongside the soft curve of his cheek, his blue eyes scanning contemplatively across the screen, his pink tongue poking at pursed lips. Harry’s neck gets hot. Louis is the cutest boy he’s ever seen in his entire life, he’s thought so since the second he saw him, and frantically texted his friends THERES A BOY WHO LOOKS LIKE FRANKIE FROM THE SATURDAYS HERE!!!! shortly before actually meeting Louis and sending the follow up text: frankie boy is named louis like lou-ee and im in love. he seems gay but he has a gf apparently?? :(

That text seems like fate now because he was obviously joking about being in love then, but he did end up falling in love, fast and hard and sudden, the kind of love that he didn’t even have time to talk himself out or or get frightened by because it was just there, choking him like a vine, covering the whole of his heart so that he could not move without gouging himself on a thorn. It just was. He sighs to himself, thumbing over Louis’s earbud, imagining all the times he laid in his bed in Doncaster with it in his ear, listening to music while he was studying, or feeling sad, or wishing he wasn’t alone.

“Found it,” Louis announces, and Harry considers the fact that Louis might not ever feel alone, not like he does. He’s probably surrounded by friends all the time, loud raucous groups of theater kids and football blokes, the girlfriend Harry hasn’t heard anything about since meeting in his lap, holding his hand. Harry has loads of friends too but he still feels alone sometimes, still lies in his bed with his headphones in listening to love songs and wondering what it would feel like to want someone so badly. He winkles up his nose at himself and smiles, because now he knows. It feels like a vine, like thorns, like the whole night sky and all it’s stars. All that crazy, poetic stuff he used to be skeptical of, here in his own chest. It’s insane.

Anything you would like to say to your readers?

Thank you so, so, so much for reading and reviewing and accepting me so eagerly and wholeheartedly into this wonderful fandom. Big fandoms can be intimidating because there’s so much excellent work, and it’s a challenge be noticed amid such brilliance, so I’m endlessly grateful for and stunned by the reception I’ve gotten. Every time I end up on a rec list alongside my favorite authors, or every time one of those authors comments on one of my stories, I’m just so, so fucking blown away. Thank you.

Thank you, Phoenix!! We absolutely love your fics and are so happy to have you in this fandom!

#as #xabjectlessonsx #objectlessons

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adambstingus · 7 years ago

Text

Every Halloween, I Have A Story I Like To Tell

I liked Ben, I really did. I mean, he was a nice guy. We had some fun times together in college, messing around the dorm, going to parties, all the dumb shit that college guys do. He was cool and all, but he was a little pretentious. Well, I guess the word he used was artistic. He thought he was real smart, spent a lot of time trying to prove it to everyone. He had his own blog developed to film critiques not the big ones, though. Just little indie productions because nothing else was worth his time. When he got like that, he could be pretty insufferable.

Perhaps the most annoying thing that he did was performance art.

Now, I dont wanna be the guy who says that all performance art is dumb. But yeah, no, all performance art is dumb. Oh, look, youre on display painting a picture of Jesus from your own urine, how original and edgy! Maybe Im a little jaded, but it always seemed so contrived to me. Unfortunately, Ben really loved it. He thought there was something beautiful in art that was physically living and he devoted an embarrassing amount of time to it.

Anyway, I hung out with Ben a few times after college, but we mostly just met up to do some heavy drinking and maybe hit a strip club or two. He considered THAT performance art as well, which was just fine with me, it gave me an excuse to waste some ones. Since we didnt hang out very often, I had a bad feeling when he contacted me about a month before last Halloween.

He called me up at about seven in the morning on a Saturday, which is too early to even consider waking up, in my opinion. I answered in a daze and he started running his mouth like crazy, as though afraid that, if he didnt get it all out at once, he never would.

Mike, hey, Mikey, listen, buddy, I need your help, okay? Okay, okay, Ive got this idea for a performance and, well, its going to be , you know? So good! Its going down on Halloween. Can you come help? Look, Ill even pay you, man. Fifty dollars. So how bout it?

Now, Ive never cared much about Halloween one way or the other, and Im a pretty easy guy. Fifty dollars to probably just sit there and run a fog machine or some bullshit? For the right price, I could even pretend that I wanted to be there. Besides, what else are friends for?

A few days later, he gave me the details. To be honest, I was a little shocked when he sent the email. I know that performance art is intended to be edgy and can sometimes get a little dangerous, but this seemed downright negligent.

Mike:

Thanks for agreeing to do this for me! Ive talked to a few other people, but they werent really comfortable with it, for reasons youll probably be able to figure out. Of course, I understand if you want to back out, but I think you are probably the most reliable person I know. Its really not that big of a deal, Im sure youll agree.

As Im sure youve noticed, vampires have become very prominent in the media as of late. I say vampires because they are beginning to deviate so wildly from the traditional myths that they resemble forest fairies more than anything else. Altruistic? Sparkly? Whiny? Give me a break. We need more Dracula! We need more Carmilla! We need more death, destruction, and blood!

My performance will center on the theme of rebirthing the vampire. For the vampire to be reborn, he must first be buried. To turn peoples attentions back to the myths of old, I will be doing just that: I will be burying the vampire.

I have a group of viewers signed up already to participate in the performance, so you dont need to worry about that. Im going to plant a series of vampire-themed clues around town for them to follow. The clues should be pretty simple, and it will probably take no more than an hour to an hour-and-a-half for them to find me.

Here comes the somewhat controversial part. Essentially, for this performance to have any semblance of meaning, I need to be buried alive. Dont worry, its perfectly safe: I have a buddy from back home who is building me a coffin with a hole in the top. Ill be fixing it with a pipe that will stick an inch or two above the ground. That way, I wont run out of air. Ill also have a few necessities in the coffin in case something happens: food, water, and a flashlight.

Once they arrive at my grave which will be completely vampirized they will be provided with an array of shovels and will bring me back to life, a reincarnation of the true mythological history of vampires.

Here is where you come in. I need you to bury me. In addition, I need you to be my safety net: if they cant find me, if something goes wrong, if I become sick, I need you to be the one to get me out or call the police, if necessary. Ill also need you to decorate my grave, make it really creepy dont worry, Ill send you some blueprints.

I know this is a little stressful and it may take some time for you to decide, but, rest assured, this is a completely safe project. Theres no danger of suffocation and the coffin is sturdy, so its very unlikely that it will collapse. I really just need you there for support and the actual hard work of burying me.

What do you say? Id even be willing to up your pay to a hundred dollars, if thats what you need.

Let me know!

RIP,

Ben

I stared at my screen for a few minutes, completely dumbfounded.

Once I cut through all the bullshit about art and vampires and rebirth, what it came down to was death.

This guy actually wanted me to almost kill him.

I mean, sure, it probably WAS safe. But my mind went over the plan slowly. What if I couldnt get him out in time? One shovel and a pit of dirt wouldnt be a fast job. Furthermore, what if something happened to me?

Before making a decision, I sent him another email asking if he was really sure he was up for this. Of course he knew, he said. And then he said something that would always stick with me.

Art must be a little dangerous, my friend, for it to be real.

A month later, I found myself standing at the foot of a grave. It was six feet deep and perfectly rectangular. Sitting at the bottom was a tapered coffin covered with black lacquer, a white skull painted on the top. In the eye of the skull was a hole just big enough for the PVC pipe. Stenciled underneath was a line from Dracula: Denn die Todten reiten schnell.

I stood there like an idiot, waiting for Ben to show up.

In the end, Id decided to go along with his stupid gig. Ben was a stubborn bastard, and if I didnt help him, someone else would. At least, thats the justification I gave myself. But the real reason was that, deep inside my heart, his words were still echoing.

Id ended up doing a little more work than I had intended. For one, I had to place his stupid clues around the city. It wasnt hard work, but it took some time to get them all in the proper places. Luckily for Ben, they were pretty obvious clues. There was no need to worry that his participants would be unable to find him.

Ben had set up the grave and the coffin a few days prior to Halloween. It was out in the woods just on the outskirts of town, no chance of it being disturbed. Id tried to talk him out of burying it the whole six feet down.

If something happens and I need to get you out fast, what will I do? Cant you put it closer to the surface?

Ben had just shaken his head in exasperation. You just dont get it, do you? It has to be done right. Remember what I told you.

So I shrugged and let him mess around with whatever dumbassery would get him off.

I was just beginning to wonder if I should have brought more beer this promised to be a long night when Ben showed up.

I had to restrain my laughter when I saw his getup. A cheap Dracula costume from Wal-mart had never looked so pathetic, especially when topped off with those cheap plastic fangs. Hed greased his hair back and painted on a widows peak.

I couldnt resist. Wow, seriously, dude?

He gave me a stern look. Its a comment on the commercialization of vampires and horror as we know it today. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a walkie talkie. Here, take one. The range isnt very far, but my cell phone wont work that far underground. Youll have to stay nearby. Let me know if youre going out of range.

I shrugged and took it. Okay, but you brought your cell just in case, right?

Nah, what good will it do if it doesnt work?

This guys batshit insane, I thought. But he handed me the hundred dollars and, suddenly, it didnt seem to matter anymore.

I helped him into the coffin and shut the lid. He seemed pretty calm if it were me, I knew Id be having a panic attack. I fit the PVC pipe into the hole. It slid in perfectly snug. I climbed out of the coffin and grabbed my shovel, taking one last look at the shiny black peeking out from the dirt.

With a resigned shrug, I started to shovel in the dirt. Okay, well, he asked for this, I thought.

It took almost a full hour to get all the dirt piled in. The PVC pipe was just barely visible over the grave. I piled the earth around it to hide it as well as I could. Then, I set up the rest of the grave: a hideously gothic headstone made of Styrofoam, and cheap Wal-mart flowers. Once it was finally finished, I sat back against a tree and waited.

There was an awful lot of waiting to be done.

Three hours later, his participants still hadnt come.

Hed buzzed in on the walkie talkie a few times, asking if theyd shown up. I continually answered in the negative, wondering how long hed be willing to keep up this charade. He must be getting worried, I thought, staring at my watch. It was already 10 pm and not a soul to be seen.

Hey, Mike? Something must have happened, I dont think theyre coming. Can you get me out of here? Bens voice crackled and faded in and out of the static fuzz. I took another swig of my beer and heaved a sigh.

Of course they werent coming. They were frantically searching for the last clue. My hand crept into my pocket as I felt it folded there, the creases poking at the soft flesh of my palm.

Mike? Are you there? Did you go out of range?

I turned the walkie talkie off. I didnt need it anymore, anyway. Carefully, I picked up a handful of disturbed earth from the top of the makeshift grave. I poured it down the pipe and listened.

I heard the muffled exclamation, the series of expletives. I thought I could hear a thumping sound he must be hitting the top of the coffin. I smiled a little to myself as I poured some more dirt in through the pipe.

Bens struggles got louder and I felt a certain heat rising up in me. Oh, I knew it could be good, but I didnt know it could be good. This was incredible. This was perfect. This was .

Eventually, I grew bored of shoving the earth down into the coffin. I could hear Bens screaming and sobbing reverberating up the pipe. I yanked a handkerchief out of my back pocket and stuffed it inside. I made sure to plug it up good and tight.

It would only be a matter of time, now. Assuming he could regulate his breathing, he could possibly have a few hours. But I knew he was panicking. And that would simply serve to shorten his time.

The pounding grew weaker as I finished my beer. Once I was certain there was no saving him, I went to finish my work.

Ben was right everything really did go off without a hitch. I dont know what I was so worried about.

Id gone to find his lost sheep, the wayward participants who were scrambling in frustration for the last clue. I scolded them for making us wait so long, acted the part of the reluctant friend indulging his lunatic companion. I took them out to the grave. It was now past midnight.

They sat hushed as I gave the stupid speech that Ben had prepared for me. Everything seemed normal Id made sure to stow the rag before anyone could see it.

Friends, foes, and everyone in between. Tonight we gather to resurrect the ancient horror that has plagued mankind for centuries. Its tale, once a gruesome epic of blood and seduction, has become nothing more than commercialized fodder as society has aged. Now, the time has come for the phoenix to burn and rise again. So, too, shall the blood-soaked visage of the vampire! My voice resonated throughout the woods, and the morons in attendance clapped as they all reached for their shovels.

We dug him up in about half an hour. It was much faster work with his host of suckers. It was good that we reached the coffin quickly, because I could barely contain my excitement.

Two of the men opened the coffin and screamed. The women leaned in over the grave to peek as well, full of expectancy. There was something dreadful about the scene, to be sure.

Bens face had gone gray, sprayed over with a few specs of dirt. His hands were bloody, his fingernails pried off. Deep scratches decorated the top of the lid. The men who had opened his tomb dragged him out in a panic, unsure if this was part of the performance or not. A few moments of silent listening at his chest produced no heartbeat. The proclamation was definitive: he was dead.

They screamed. They called the police. They alternatively looked at his body and shielded themselves from its horror, enraptured yet struggling.

They ignored me.

But that was fine. It was fine because they were admiring my work, the work of the artist. Finally, I had been given this opportunity to prove my worth. Finally, I had found my sacrificial lamb. And it had been a rousing success. The heat raging in my body affirmed that much. I didnt even care if I was caught, so long as I could have this moment to hold for the rest of my life.

Ben was right. I should have known a man of principle never lies. And I owe him a debt of gratitude, for realizing the artist within me.

Art must be a little dangerous for it to be real.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/every-halloween-i-have-a-story-i-like-to-tell/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/172357360662

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samanthasroberts · 7 years ago