#please i wanna publish this one so bad but like- writers block

[romcomxb]

another snippet of my wip because i need motivation to finish it-

‘Mav?’ A quiet voice sounded from across the room and Maverick glanced up. It was Bradley, standing in his blue pajamas and a teddy bear clutched in his arms. The teddy bear had been one of Carole’s from when she was a kid and had been passed down to Bradley years ago. His hair was ruffled and his eyes were squinting, he looked like a bear that had just come out of hibernation.

‘Hey, Baby Goose,’ Mav held his arms out to the boy, who quickly moved to curl up in his lap. ‘Nightmare again?’

Bradley had always had some form of night terrors, but ever since Carole’s death, they had gotten worse and more frequent. Ice and Mav had spent many nights attempting to calm him down, eventually they’d taken to bringing him into their own room to sleep.

Bradley closed his eyes and buried his face in Mav’s stomach, his shoulders were still shaking.

‘Mhmm-‘ The boy murmured, his voice muffled. ‘Can’t go back to sleep’

Maverick sighed and begun slowly running his hands through Bradley’s hair. Something he remembered his own mother doing when he was a child, and he had later done to Bradley’s father during the long months of deployment. It seemed to help, as the boy’s breathing slowed, and his stiff limbs relaxed into Mav’s hold.

The two sat there in silence for a while, the younger boy only shifting every so often. Maverick took the situation as a welcome distraction from the paperwork strewn before him and was more than happy to stay here as long as Bradley needed.

‘I miss Mama.’ Bradley’s voice was hushed, barley a whisper. Mav gritted his teeth, his hands pausing for a moment before he replied.

‘I know kid, we all do,’ He replied and leant down to place a kiss on his forehead. ‘I promise, it gets better.’

Mav realised he must not be the best person give this advice. He was barley holding himself together.

Bradley let out a little whimper and moved impossibly closer to Maverick, his tiny body squirming in his grip. A few moments later, the boy turned his gaze up to meet Mav’s, wide eyes blinking innocently.

‘Am I gonna live with you and Uncle Tom now?’ He whispered, leaning into Maverick’s hand in his hair. He paused, thinking the question over for a moment.

‘I hope so buddy, I really hope so.’ Mav continuing to slowly run a hand through Bradley’s hair, the motion soothing for both of them. 

[shadesofdeviant]

For the fanfic asks … all of them? 😁

HAHAHA Ginger! I mean...you said you'd ask for all of them XD So...I guess I'll answer them all XD.

🍄How do you come up with ideas for your stories?

A variety of ways, sometimes I get inspired to write an AU based on an episode of a show, or a novel etc. Or sometimes my brain just pops ideas into my head.

🍉Are you a pantser or a plotter?

I am very much a plotter. It's also why I don't often get much written because I need SO much to be planned before I can write.

🍒What genres/tropes do you find yourself using most often?

Fluff, 5+1, Domestic Slice of Life, AU's - I am an absolute sucker for AU's.

🥝Who are your literary influences, and have they shaped your own writing?

As much of a problematic person as they were, Anne Rice's first 3 vampire chronicles books were the books that got me thinking...oh I really wanna do this kind of thing. J R R Tolkien's descriptions very much shaped my own (i used to write horrifically long paragraphs). Neil Gaiman inspired my shorter style, quirky dialogue with inside jokes aimed at the reader.

🥕What's your favorite fic you've written, and why?

My favourite fic is a toss up between "Your Arms Are Like Corset Strings" (9-1-1, Buddie) and "Rainbow Coloured Monstrosity" (9-1-1: Lone Star, Tarlos).

The rest I'm gonna put under a cut haha or this post is gonna get SUPER long.

🥨How do you overcome writer's block?

When I work it out I'll tell you haha. I don't think I've ever managed beyond just pushing through and hate-smashing at the keyboard, or just waiting for the inspiration to come back by itself.

🍕What's your favorite comment you've received on a fic?

Honestly as cliche as it might sound, all comments I get are my favourites. I couldn't pick any specific ones, I enjoy comments so much.

🌭Do you have any writing rituals to help 'get in the zone'?

I use a lot of notebooks, I also get really sad and make powerpoint presentations of planning. Then I either listen to music, or put on some series that Ive seen enough times that it can be background noise.

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

I HC a few things for different people but they're not exactly huge things, but have a few examples. I headcanon that Alec Hardy is a huge fantasy novel fan. I headcanon that Eddie Diaz has chronic pain in his shoulders. I headcanon that Aziraphale hates the scent of pine.

🍭What's been your most challenging story to write, and why?

I'm writing a huge multi-part reincarnated soulmates AU, in which the soulmates meet each other throughout history and have different names etc. and it's...taking me soooo long. And honestly it's just because it so long and has so many historical points I need to research hahaha.

🍬What's a genre/trope you've never written, but might in future?

I'm...not sure tbh. Theres a lot of genre's/tropes I don't like or I'm not comfortable with so won't ever touch. But the ones I do like, I've attempted or I am in the process of attempting.

🍩What advice would you give to aspiring fic writers?

Just go for it. Find something you really, really want to see written and write it, because at the end of the day you write for yourself first and foremost. If you try to write to please everyone you'll stress yourself out too much.

🌶How dependent are you on feedback, good or bad?

Bad feedback is never warranted. I do not write for profit so therefore do not need amazon style reviews. Nor do I ask for constructive criticism. I appreciate if someone wants to tell me they like what I wrote though.

🥑What are you currently working on?

I am currently working on a bunch of things: Doctor Who x Good Omens crossover - The events of "The Giggle" with Crowley tagging along. Broadchurch Whump - 2 entries, poor Alec is getting tormented. Broadchurch x Good Omens x Rab C Nesbitt crossover - Alec, Crowley and Davina are identical triplets. Shenanigans ensue. Buddie birthday gift for someone dear to me. Buddie soulmates AU.

🍹How do you decide a story is ready to post?

I finish writing it haha. I let it come to a natural stopping point and then try not to over think it.

🍊What's a story that changed significantly from its initial idea to the final draft?

My reincarnated soulmates AU. I've changed so many historical points and condensed some and completely scrapped a whole half of it haha.

🥠What's your approach to world-building?

Powerpoints. Powerpoints and mind maps haha. If I'm going AU I will plan it like I'm Tolkien creating middle earth haha XD.

🍎How do you prioritize which stories to work on when you have multiple ideas?

I don't. My brain goes brrr and tries to plan all of them at once to the point I can't work on ANY of them haha.

🌮How do you balance the desire to write for yourself versus the desire to write for an audience?

I have been writing on and off since I was 13, and I used to write entirely for the audience and it stressed me out. Whilst I enjoy audience responses and like to receive comments confirming that they enjoyed what I wrote, if I don't like it, I won't post it, but if I enjoyed what I wrote I will love it regardless.

[chayscribbles]

chayscribbles’ monthly writing update ☆ august/september 2023 double feature

☆ STATISTICS.

words written: 4273 in august; none in september BUT that's because i did a lot of revising

projects worked on: Gemini Heist in august; Andromeda Rogue in september, then procrastinated so hard i ended up writing a few paragraphs on Third, Secret Wip

proudest accomplishment: i compiled all my AR1 beta feedback without giving in to the urge to set the book on fire and also myself

books read: Network Effect (Murderbot Diaries #5) by Martha Wells

☆ GENERAL COMMENTS.

so basically i started off august decently solid, working on gemini heist while andromeda rogue was off being torn apart by the betas. (i'm joking. it didn't get torn apart. i think you guys were being way too nice actually.)

and then all kinds of shit hit the fan in my personal life all at once in mid-august. both good and bad. it was a lot.

anyways the first half of september was spent recovering from all that, BUT i took a week off work mid-september to catch my breath and also get back into writing, and it was really good for me.

on another note! i am very seriously considering making an etsy shop for some of my art, because as much as i loathe the thought of monetizing my hobbies, we are living in a cost of living crisis, and i don't wanna be in my ice water soup era forever, ha. anyways stay tuned. (and if you think it would be a good idea/you think yourself or others would be interested in buying things PLEASE LET ME KNOW. EXPLICITLY. because otherwise i will assume no one cares and the idea will fizzle out.)

more specific wip-related comments + featured excerpt below.

☆ COMMENTS: ANDROMEDA ROGUE (draft 2 editing)

i went through all the beta comments during my week off and while i am glad it doesn't look like i'll have to do any more BIG rewrites, editing sucks and i want to give up.

☆ COMMENTS: THE GEMINI HEIST (draft 0.5. okay fine it's draft 1 but i feel better about myself if i call it draft 0.5 okay)

honestly when i was working on this feels sooo long ago i don't even remember what there is to say?

i hit 20K at some point in august. i think.

OH YEAH i "finished" act 2/7. the quotation marks are because i absolutely did not finish it, i only finished writing all the main plot-relevant scenes and skipped anything else. which means there's like a whole chapter and a half that haven't actually been written bc they're probably gonna be exposition or character building stuff that i haven't figured out yet and i'm hoping will be easier once i know what actually happens in the rest of this story. (reminder that i am a plantser.)

anyways i suspect this wip will be going dormant again for a while as i focus on getting AR ready for publishing. (sidenote it's been over a year since i started the GH draft and i feel like i've done fuck all on it besides come up with useless lore and make extremely specific playlists. world's slowest writer. the playlists slap, though.)

☆ FEATURED EXCERPT.

uh have this random snippet of Euna about to pop off!

Somewhere far, far, away, Leo was shouting, “Just get your ass out of there, Li!” but her voice seemed muffled in Euna’s ears, blocked out by the rage that had been steadily mounting ever since that guard shot her arm and ruined the fight for her. All she could hear was the blood rushing through her own ears, the buzz of the guard’s electrified gauntlets, the crackle of the electricity in her own hand. She reared her good fist back and slammed it into the guard’s face. Their nose made a sickening crunch against Euna’s knuckles. Blood flowed down over their mouth and chin as they staggered back, but Euna wasn't done. Her right arm, still spouting sparks, swung into the side of their head, finally bringing them down. Before they could get up again, Euna dropped on top of them, pinning them to the ground with her knees on their chest. She grabbed their shoulders and yanked their upper body off the floor, preparing to slam them down one last time— Purple light surrounded her. For a frightening second, she couldn’t move. Then she was thrown off the guard and dragged, upside-down, through the air towards the exit.

☆ TAGLISTS. let me know if you want to be added/removed to any of them.

general taglist:

@nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @quilloftheclouds @ashen-crest @writeblrfantasy @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @extra-magichours @avi-why @lefttigerobservation @chazzawrites @bardolatrycore @innocentlymacabre

andromeda trilogy taglist:

@bebewrites @nicola-writes @dgwriteblr @the-orangeauthor @onomatopiya @akindofmagictoo @quilloftheclouds @nora-theteawriter @ashen-crest @corpsepng @writeblrfantasy @toboldlywrite @celestepens @stardustspiral @pepperdee @cheerfulmelancholies @extra-magichours @writeouswriter @cilly-the-writer @lefttigerobservation @rose-bookblood @drowsy-quill @chazzawrites @cynic-and-chief @enchanted-lightning-aes @aesa @outpost51

gemini heist taglist:

@florraisons @akindofmagictoo @cream-and-tea @nicola-writes @memento-morri-writes @antique-symbolism @rose-bookblood @afoolandathief @pepperdee @avi-why @zonnemaagd @chazzawrites @analogued @enchanted-lightning-aes @innocentlymacabre @kahvilahuhut @celestepens @cilly-the-writer @extra-magichours @onomatopiya @outpost51

[rrtfs-official-blog]

Alright, as per usual it’s time for one of my random little updates! This one has some rather big news! After months and months of procrastination and short bursts of writing, “Hey Porter! Hey Porter!” Is finally almost done! It’s all written out! I’m honestly just waiting on Speedy to finish proofreading it for me! I just wanna make sure it’s all in order before it’s public! (Please note I still haven’t posted the links to the RRTFS stuff, I just wanna generate a little interest in the series first! Please ask if you wanna read the shorts!). I didn’t have a deadline for this specific short for a long time, but I eventually set one! That being September 4th for two reasons! One is because I’d be the Birthday boy since that’s my Birthday. The second is because for labor day weekend I always go to the Hesston Steam Museum (For those of you who love anything and everything steam, trains, tractors, stationary engines, a popcorn machine. I recommend going someday!). The Hesston museum is where Sawyer, Tank, Porter, Hiawatha, and Brigadelok live! Although only Tank, Porter, and Sawyer are in the short I thought it would be fitting to post the short when I visited the real life counterparts to the characters! I did that on the first so I’ve already done my trip to Hesston, and for the first time in years I saw all three of the main guys! So that was fun, right now Speedy is only about half done reading the short so hopefully he’ll be done by tomorrow so I can post it!

On top of that short almost being done, I have two more finished! Those two are “In The Lambent Lamps Of Phantoms.” And “The Christmas Cannonball.” I have finished writing and editing both! All that needs to be done is for Speedy or Spits to proofread them! I have plenty of time for that, because one is a Halloween story and the other is a Christmas story. So no rush on those just yet! Hopefully they’ll be able to be posted on time, so here’s to hoping! With three shorts in the works right now that just need to be proofread, I’ve only got one other one that’s a real work in progress, and the deadline isn’t until next October. Specifically October 2nd, as it’s in celebration to the 100th anniversary of the Churchill Tunnel collapse in Richmond, Virginia! That short being “The Engine Under Church Hill.” I’d likely already have it mostly done if it wasn’t for Spits taking his time with getting to know the characters and develop the one he’s going to use in it. Unfortunately because this short in specifics is very important to me, if he doesn’t at least start writing by the 2nd of October this year I’m going to cut his parts out and replace them with some other character I can play. Hopefully he finds the time and motivation to do it, because he’s a fantastic writer! And he’s one of my good friends so I’d feel bad, but business is business.

This brings me to my last point! I did a LOT of behind the scenes work that really no one knows about! I reformatted all the stories! Before I did that, in all honesty I was writing these shorts like one would write an essay in school. I never took a proper writing class, like a creative writing class or anything. So that was the only real way to write I knew of. But a while ago Spits told me the blocks of text I was writing were rather hard to read. I took that to heart and instead of moping about it like I usually would, I decided to make the change! I did as much research as I could and did my best to take all the rules to heart and use them! I’ve tried to restructure the shorts like an actual story! I think I did alright in all honesty. It might not be the best or publish worthy yet, but I’m working on it! All the shorts got some major edits and what not to roll smoother! I like the results and originally the reformatted versions weren’t going to be public but I changed my mind on that shortly after finishing the second story. So I hope for those of you who end up reading it at some point appreciate it! I did five published shorts, three nearly finished shorts, and one that was barely started! So it took me about a week of pretty consistent work apart from eating, sleeping, and breaks. I’m pleased with the work and it’s the biggest thing that’s happened with the series as of late!

Apart from some new characters, story ideas, and me and Speedy finally finishing “Hey Porter! Hey Porter!” I think that’s about it for this update! As per usual, don’t be scared to send asks and what not! I love talking about the characters and the stories! So don’t be shy! Bye for now then!

[nekoannie-chan]

Reading list guidelines

Hi! This is Annie, here are my reblog guidelines during 2023:

  You MUST to TAG ME in your fic, I know some people discontinued their tag list, unfortunately Dumblr doesn’t notify me and I don’t have enough time to check blog by blog because I follow lots of people.

TAG all the WARNINGS, there’s some topics I’m not comfortable with. Please respect my boundaries and triggers as I respect yours.

Must be posted on Tumblr. I wanna support writers on here, so please, no links to another fanfic platform.

Every Friday a weekly list will be published (unless something happens in my life), so lists will have between 7-42 fics.

Use ‘read more’ if word counts is over 500, please; sometimes I keep fics in my drafts.

Would be amazing if you following, I swear I’m not a bad person, just a grumpy one.

Could take between 1 to 2 months I reblog your work, sometimes I’m slow because of school or personal stuff, also I always plan my queue at least for a month.

If I like your fic, it means I receive the notification and would be on my queue, but if I don’t like it, you can message me and send me the link, ‘cause probably I didn’t receive the notification. Also, if you notice my likes it means I’m putting your work on my queue with the comment.

If you wanna tag me but not be highlighted, you can send me a message and ask it politely.

I just wanna support people, and hope people support me too, so I just do this for fun, I’m no gonna tolerate hate or something negative, so if you send me something like that, I will block you without hesitation; this also applies if someone is rude with me.

I’m okay with dark, smut, fluff, angst, horror, etc., just please, tag properly.

͙♡*♡∞:｡.｡　　｡.｡:∞♡*♡͙

  Characters and fandoms I read below the break.

❤ Marvel characters I read:

Steve Rogers.

Brock Rumlow.

Runaways.

Tandy Bowen.

Ororo Munroe.

Sue Storm.

Johnny Storm.

Lorna Dane.

Nico Minoru.

Clarice Fong/Ferguson.

Rogue.

John Proudstar.

Stepford Cuckoos.

Logan/Wolverine.

Magik.

PRIDE.

Jubilee.

Sinthea Schmidt.

Janet van Dyne.

Doctor Doom.

Amora.

Felicia Hardy.

Madelyne Pryor.

Mister Sinister.

Rachel Leighton.

Dottie Underwood.

Michael Morbius.

Ana/Satana Helstrom.

Daimon Helstrom.

Lauren Strucker.

Andy Strucker.

Hellfire club.

Jessica Jones.

Jack Rollins.

The divine pairing.

GertChase.

Deanoru.

Thunderblink.

Morgan le Fey.

Tina Minoru.

 ❤ Knives out characters I read:

Ransom Drysdale.

Meg Drysdale.

 ❤ Charmed characters I read read:

Piper Halliwell.

Leo Wyatt.

Prue Halliwell.

Cole Turner.

 ❤ Desperate housewives’ characters I read:

Bree Van de Kamp.

Gabrielle Solis.

Susan Mayer.

Julie Mayer.

Katherine Mayfair.

Angie Bolen.

 ❤ Snowpiercer characters I read:

Lilah Junior “LJ” Folger.

 ❤ Money heist characters I read:

Tokyo.

Pamplona.

 ❤ Grey’s anatomy characters I read:

 Izzie Stevens.

Cristina Yang.

Amelia Sheperd.

Callie Torres.

Denny Duquette.

Stephanie Edwards.

Erica Hahn.

Nicole Herman.

 ❤ 9-1-1 characters I read:

Evan “Buck” Buckley.

Howie Han.

Maddie Buckley.

Abby Clark.

 ❤ American Horror story characters I read:

Misty Day.

Moira O’Hara.

Fiona Goode.

Lana Winters.

Cordelia Foxx.

Ally Mayfair-Richards.

Mallory.

 ❤ The Walking Dead characters I read:

Andrea Harrison.

Glenn Rhee.

Rosita Espinosa.

 ❤ Battle Royale characters I read:

Mistuko Souma.

Shūya Nanahara.

 ❤ Other stuff I read:

Original horror/terror stories.

Any horror movie killer.

Any Frank Grillo characters.

Any Ko Shibasaki characters.

Tomie.

Nanno.

 ❤ I’m not reading:

No pedo fics.

No underage smut.

No toilet, bodily fluids, bestiality.

No incest.

No A/B/O.

No RPF.

No Social Media AU.

Staron.

Steggy.

Romanogers.

Taserbones.

[sinfulcries]

Can i request with tsuki brother? Like male reader is akiteru friend and both tsuki brother love him. Whenever they were home alone, male reader told them to be naked all the time. Like when sitting, one of the brother will cockwarm him. Also mreader like too watch them devouring each other before giving their body to reader. 😅 *Run

the days after — tsukishima brothers x male reader

##AUTHORS%NOTES: Hey dolls. I’ve been getting a lot of requests lately and as much as I love writing every single one of them, my writers block has been holding me back from writing some of them <//3 Publishing the older requests first since this one was two months ago, when I still had like 100 followers <//3 Sorry it took so long :’(

WORD COUNT: 1086

tw. sibling rivalry, threesome

Ever since Akiteru brought you home so that the two of you could work on a project, Tsukishima had been so obsessed with you. Akiteru brought you home pretty often and during those times that you entered the Tsukishima house-hold, you never failed to notice the captivated look in the younger man’s eyes whenever you were in his sight.

Akiteru soon took notice of it as well, his stomach coiling in jealousy as he saw his younger brother staring you up and down as if you were his. A silent scoff left the older Tsukishima’s mouth, placing his hand on your shoulder before leading you to his room. “What’s wrong, Akiteru?” You asked, taking a seat on his bed. “My brother has a crush on you..” He groaned, making you raise an eyebrow in amusement. “So? You jealous?” 

The Tsukishima’s cheeks flushed red before he punched your shoulder playfully. “I-I’m not jealous….” Pouting, he grabbed his backpack, grabbing a few books before turning towards your direction. “Let’s just study and get this over with”

Unsatisfied with his answer, You grabbed the blonde’s hips pulling him into your lap before leaving wet kisses on his neck. Akiteru whimpered, trying to wiggle away from your grasp, however, your hold on him tightened, a sly smirk worming its way onto your lips. “Come on, I know you don’t wanna study~” You purred against his neck.

“I-I do! y/n please… Kei might walk in!” Akiteru tried his best to reason with you-- but the feeling of your hot hands roaming his body made it even difficult for him to think rationally. “Let him watch then.” 

You instructed Akiteru to face you, which he complied obediently. The look in your orbs were filled with pure, carnal desire-- and it only made his cock harden, seeing it paired with the attractive smirk on your face. “Please….. Be gentle….” Akiteru murmured, making you laugh. “I’m not going to fuck you today, baby.” Akiteru frowned as he nuzzled his head in your chest. “Why not..?” 

“Didn’t you tell me you wanted to study~?” A teasing smirk made its way onto your face and Akiteru could only scrunch his eyebrows in frustration. “I-I changed m-my mind! P-Please y/n!” The blonde stuttered, grinding softly against your cock in hopes that you would pay attention to him. It almost worked-- your large hands came to rest on his ass, giving the two mounds a squeeze making Akiteru yelp. However, you wanted to see your best friend beg for your cock-- no, he had to work for your cock!

“I’ll let you cockwarm me while we study and if you do good, I’ll fuck you nice and hard once we’re done.” You whispered and Akiteru nodded frantically scrambling to remove his and your undergarments so that he could get your cock inside of him already. “Woah slow down, baby.” You chuckled stroking his hair.

“What h-happens If I’m bad?” Akiteru mumbled quietly, a smirk making its way onto your lips once you heard his question. “Well, I’m fucking your cute little brother in front of you of course~”

Eyes widening in horror, Akiteru immediately took your length, aligning it in front of his loosened hole before sinking down on your cock inch by inch. “Oooh fuck-- so tight and selfish~ You really don’t want me using my cock on your brother huh?” 

The older Tsukishima shook his head violently, tightening his walls around your length before murmuring, “Your cock’s mine…”. Quirking an eyebrow at the blonde, you grabbed his chin forcing him to look at you before you leaned in to capture his lips into a kiss. Your kiss was caught short however when you heard the faint creak of the door opening, Kei’s wide eyes staring at your seated form all the way from the door.

Pulling away, you smirked at the blonde-- Akiteru turning to face his brother’s heartbroken expression. “Look who decided to join in.” 

“I-I Should go--” Kei tried his best not to sob in front of you. You guys barely talked to each other but why did his heart hurt so much? Seeing your cock in his Nii-chan’s ass made him crumble and if you were being honest it turned you on-- seeing his golden eyes brimmed with fat tears.

“Who said you could leave? Come here, Kei”  Hearing his first name come out of your mouth immediately made him give in as he reluctantly made his way towards you and Akiteru’s form. “Are you sure you wanna drag Kei into this? He’s a virgin!” The older tsukishima whispered, making you laugh amusedly. 

Tsukishima heard the words that came out of his nii-chan’s mouth and blushed furiously attempting to sputter out a response. “H-Hey! That d-doesn’t mean i'm not good at it!” Akiteru only glared at his younger brother before childishly sticking his tongue out at him.

As akiteru was about to taunt his younger brother even more, You jutted your hips upwards making the blonde on your lap whimper-- his hold on your bicep tightening. You gestured to the empty spot on the bed, Telling Kei to sit and the younger complied obediently, removing his undergarments before doing so. 

“You should be more like your brother, Aki-chan. He’s so obedient.” You rasped, continuing to fuck the older Tsukishima. Your other hand found itself on Kei’s cock, Your hand roughly pumping his length as he squirmed and begged for you to let him cum.

God-- Kei was so beautiful and so obedient. You took a mental note to fuck him while Akiteru was gone next time. You wanted to see him crying on your cock but that wouldn’t happen with his selfish nii-chan in the way. “Ride me, ‘Kiteru” 

The man on your lap only shook his head, Your hand on Kei’s cock stroking him much faster as you felt yourself getting irritated at Akiteru. “Do you want me to leave you here and let Kei ride me instead? I’m sure he would listen to me without a complaint, don’t you think?” You mused, only for Akiteru to whine as he started bouncing on your cock. The tears that fell from both of the siblings' faces made you chuckle breathlessly. Kei crying merely because of your fingers and Akiteru sobbing on your cock. Seeing as how both men basked in the undeniable pleasure that you were giving them, it’s safe to say that they were looking forward to doing this again the next day and maybe even the days after that.

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Ocean Eyes - Part 13

A/N - OMG finally an update!!! I'm so sorry it has taken me so long but writers block is a bitch! Thank you all for sticking with me and being so patient 💕💕💕 Please like/comment/reblog.

"CHRIS EVANS HAS A SECRET FAMILY!"

Shit, shit. Shit! Oh my fuck this can't be happening!! I thought to myself as i clicked on the link Hannah had sent me, the page loaded showing photo's of Chris and I kissing, photo's of Chris and Mason...... my heart was racing and i could feel the panic setting in.

"Fucking Brian!" I mumbled, this was taken the day i saw his car outfront! I got up and made my way to Chris' office, i needed to let him know about this ASAP incase he was suddenly blind sided with a question while doing his interview.

As soon as i appeared in the doorway Chris looked up and gave me a little smile that soon fell when he saw the tears in my eyes.

"Im so sorry but can you just excuse me for two seconds..... i'll be right back" Chris said leaving Scott talking to Jimmy Fallon.

"Whats wrong?....." he asked quietly pulling the door closed behind him.

"Im so sorry Chris....." i shook my head.

"Why? Whats happened?...."

I passed him my phone showing him the headline and photo's "Everyone knows, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault...." i started to cry, this isn't how i wanted everyone to find out... we weren't ready for everyone to know yet!!

"Hey stop! This isn't your fault sweetheart!" Chris wrapped his arms around me "come on don't cry, i hate it when you cry".

"Im so mad Chris!...they have no right posting photo's of Mason!"

"Let me just go finish up this interview, i'll be two minutes" he kissed me before rushing back to finish up with Jimmy.

After Chris had finished up his interview he was calling his publicist Megan, he already had missed calls from her so she had obviously heard what was going on. An hour later she was sat on the sofa across from us listening to the whole story.

"I want those photo's of my son taken down now! They can't post photo's of my 6 year old for everyone to see!" Chris was yelling as he paced the room.

"I've already put in a call and told them to take it down, but you know its gonna be out there now....you can't hide from this Chris"

"I know but.... fuck! We didn't want Mason in the public eye..... he's just a kid!"

"I get it, they should have at least blurred his face in the shots, most tabloids do nowadays unless the parents give consent but this particular tabloid that published the story, they're not one of the big names so they're more interested in their 5 minutes of fame with this exclusive"

"Brian did this. He did it to hurt me, its not even about the money! He could've sold the story to one of the big tabloids and got a payout..." i shook my head "the guy is crazy! I wasn't even dating him!"

"We're gonna try and do something about him too, leave it with me" Megan gave me a small smile while writing something in her notebook "So, you should probably post something on your socials.... clear up the gossip. Usually id say don't react to this but we need to do some damage control because right now, i guarantee all people are thinking is either you've been an absentee father with no interest in your son for the past six years" she said looking to Chris "or you'll be public enemy number one for keeping Chris's son from him" she looked over to me and i lowered my head in shame, i had done that..... i had my reasons but i did it all the same.

"So what do we say?" I asked quietly as Chris came and sat beside me taking my hand.

"We say that even though the two of you haven't been together romantically up until now, you have been raising your son together but chose to keep him out of the public eye"

"I'll put something together for you to look over, make sure you think its okay" Chris told her.

"I know this isn't great but we can handle this"

"Thank you Megan".

Over the next couple of days things gradually calmed down, Chris had posted a simple statement which i was told to post too even though my accounts were private to friends only, he didn't go into much detail but confirmed that we do have a son together and asked for our privacy to be respected.

His fans had actually been amazing and so supportive, of course there were a few saying some not so nice things about me and Mason but we knew that would happen. The tabloid stories quickly disappeared regarding Mason when other celebrities started posting, calling the tabloids out for not respecting our privacy after we had made it clear we didn't want our son in the spotlight.

But i still had this constant pit in my stomach, a feeling that things would still get worse before they went back to normal.

I was currently laid on the bed next to a basket of laundry that needed folding and putting away, I had retreated upstairs with the excuse of doing laundry while Chris, Scott and Mason were out back playing some game. The truth was i just needed some alone time, i was tired of putting on a brave and happy face, pretending like everything was fine. My hands massaged my temples trying to shift the dull headache that seemed like a constant thing lately.

"Hey, you okay?" The sound of Chris's voice from the door way made me crack open an eye to look at him.

"Yeah, headache is all"

"You've been up here a while, i got worried"

"I was doing laundry i told you....."

"You mean the laundry still sitting next to you?" He teased with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep, i started then i got a headache. I just need a few minutes" i said quietly closing my eyes again.

"Sweetheart you know you can talk to me, you don't have to act like everything is fine....."

"Yes i do, if i don't I'm gonna loose it and i can't do that with Mason around".

I felt the bottom of the bed dip and opened my eyes to see Chris crawling up the bed towards me, he moved my legs so his upper body was resting between them as he pressed kisses to my T-shirt covered stomach.

"What are you doing?" I shook my head and chuckled at the playful look he had on his face.

"Trying to cheer you up, maybe help you forget for a while" he smirked pushing my T-shirt up more so he could kiss my bare skin this time.

"Is now really the time for that? Mason is awake downstairs...."

"Its the perfect time for that, Scott will keep Mason busy"

"You dont know that....."

Chris quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped quickly on the screen before tossing it aside.

"Done, no distractions" he laughed.

"Oh god please don't tell me you told Scott why?"

"Of course not but he's not stupid"

"This is a bad idea..... we said slow...."

"This is slow, i just wanna make you feel better. Plus you know orgasm's are supposed to help with headaches" he shrugged with that cocky grin.

"Oh really? Is that right?"

"100%" he nodded making us both laugh, he reached for my shorts and starting to pull the them down my legs...

"Wait!" I said suddenly sitting up to look at him making him groan as he looked back at me from between my legs.

"What?"

"Lock the door would ya?" I giggled throwing myself back down on the bed shaking my head as he leapt from the bed and flipped the lock.

"Now where were we?" He said before crawling back into position.....this was a bad idea.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields @turtoix @dottirose

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @melissaglenn5 @denisemarieangelina

@mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax @jennmurawski13 @ford66steal @saiyanprincessswanie @christocrave

@jakiki94 @torntaltos @my-dearest-agent @ms-betsy-fangirl

[wri0thesley]

a lot more ppl sent me very lovely messages and i don’t want to spam dashes OR ignore them so i’m replying to them in a batch below the read more!:

jellyluchi said: idk what those anons are on but I'm really glad you're writing for a different media I don't see a lot of jjk content so seeing it on my dash is great! plus it's your blog so you should be able to able to write whatever you want! you're not betraying anyone for writing stuff you like

tysm sid!!! i love jojo and i will probably not be abandoning it but people forget i’ve been here for FOUR YEARS (!) and i’m one of very few blogs still around. like. people don’t even remember the blogs that were popular when i was still writing :(. i’m just excited to have a new interest!!! <3 

Anonymous said: Nat: la squadra posts 24/7 Anon: you're basically abandoning the jojo fandom relinquish your card No but seriously, people are allowed to focus on other types of media, especially if the current fandom is waning. Not saying more people are leaving the JoJo fandom than staying, but that it's had to make do with the available content. I'd say more people (inside and outside the fandom) are more familiar with the anime, and Golden Wind ended 1-2 years ago. I'm sure once Stone Ocean comes out, the fandom will go wild again. Either way, I don't mind what you post, I just like seeing you talk so passionately

gosh it’s been so long since VA, huh? i’m still here, still working on stuff - my inspiration for jojo has just waned a little! i still love talking to you all about my husbands and your husbands. a lot of my friends are into jjk now too which means that i have people to bounce ideas off in a way i don’t as much for jojo! i’m sure when SO starts i’ll come crawling back but for now let me have a little fun! <3  also i really do still not shut up about la squadra dfbvnkjdfgn. i’ve been saying to myself i’ll publish one jojo thing and one jjk thing a day and it’s been going really well so far! 

mix-senpai said: I like to assume that the anons who say that stupid shit to you is always the same little gremlin who apparently has nothing better to do. I know you don't want people to openly riot over these anons, but honestly? You're one of the sweetest, and most friendly and accepting person I personally have ever met, so color me baffled to find that clowns like that anon would have the nerve to give you such a nasty attitude and be so rude for no reason. Like, hello? They're not the boss around here- it's not their blog it's yours to post whatever you please, they have zero say on the matter and they just have to deal with it. Keep doing you. Keep being your lovely self. And just keep doing whatever makes you happy, okay?

i block them as much as i can but i dont think it works very well fgnkjbng. as a whole i delete a lot of mean messages but honestly i’ve been expecting this one for a while which is why i bothered replying to it! tysm friend! <3

Anonymous said: 1. you still enjoy and write for jojo, you didn’t “abandon” anyone. and even if you did lose interest in jojo, that isn’t really your fault. people lose interest in things. 2. it’s YOUR blog. youre allowed to post, write, and simp over whoever you please from whatever fandom. i like jojo and jujutsu kaisen, but i also stay because i just generally like reading what you say and post because i like you, not just because i like what you can provide for me. you deserve to have followers that feel the same way, aka not that anon

the use of words like ABANDON and BETRAYAL is so funny to me honestly, this is just a thirstposting blog it’s not that deep fgbnkjgfn. thank you so much friend!! i’m glad so many people at least seem to like both, it makes me feel less bad! <3 

Anonymous said: are you seriously getting shit on just because you have interests other than jjba??? lmao how the fuck does that anon survive on tumblr 😂😂😂 one of the blogs i followed for, like, gravity falls content or something several years ago, who has since shifted their focus to posting content from numerous other fandoms, ended up putting monsterfucker content on my dash the other day because that’s just what they’re interested in right now apparently! and you know what i said about it? abso-fucking-lutely nothing because it is not my business to dictate the content they post on their blog, and if they ever start posting stuff that’s a dealbreaker for me, then i’ll just leave quietly and leave them to their business. a content creator that you followed for a certain type of content deciding to change what fandom they produce content for is not a “betrayal” or whatever, it’s just them being a human fucking person on the other side of the screen! anyway, i just wanna tell you that your writing slaps, i hope people continue to recognize that your writing slaps no matter WHAT fandom you write for, and i hope you have a fantastic time writing your funky lil heart out for jjk 💓

honestly some anons in my inboxes have WILD takes. i follow so many ppl who arent into jojo anymore but i consider them MY FRIENDS AND I LOVE THEM. i just want them to be happy! and if ppl arent happy with my content there is an unfollow button RIGHT THERE!!

Anonymous said: That anon saying they feel betrayed either copy and pasted their message or something because a few other blogs that used to be JJBA only, then branched out to multi fandom stuff, got the same if not similar messages.

yes! like i said earlier, i’ve been expecting this message for a while bc i’ve seen a lot of my mutual writer friends get it. as a whole, i delete a lot of mean messages instead of replying, but i felt like this one might come up again so i wanted to nip in the bud so to speak! <3 

Anonymous said: honestly, nat after over a year of being stuck inside and not being able to see my friends or do very much, it honestly just feels NICE to be excited about something with other people! i will ALWAYS love jojo but thank you so much for turning me on to jjk!! my partner and i were also in kind of an anime rut and hadn't watched a new series together in months but we are both enjoying it immensely 💖

AHH i hope you are the same anon who messaged me about it before because i am so happy that you are enjoying it!!! i convinced haz to watch jjk too and now we’re both having a very good time (she just got up to date with the manga!). it’s so nice sharing things you care about with people!

[seeminglyseph]

little bit of a redraw/redesign thing. I wanna shade it but also I spent multiple hours zoned out drawing her hair. I like feel super cringe showing the original but like it’s clear I used no reference, was more interested in silhouette than pose dynamics (I’m even being generous and cropping it, my ability to know what’s important to a picture is non existent) and also learned exactly how bad it looks to shade with grey. I did not use a reference and did not have the time or discipline to do the details I’m managing now...

I have this group of OCs I keep meaning to write... something about. I’ve been playing around with designs for a while (and not been very great at it, honestly looking at the old designs. They’re either really really bland or my concept of design and anatomy... can we just say I’m improving? That was meant to be lipstick but it was a bad choice and I definitely see it. I’ve also experimented with makeup in drawings. I don’t know how to mix it with the cel shading. I tend to make solid blocks of eye shadow, but it doesn’t work good for the really blush heavy looks. I’m trying to give her that like e girl style heavy blush and highlighter. My idea is that she’s like an anime and games youtuber/streamer? Her name is Tamara and she has two love interests and originally it was a werewolves are a found family story but idk if I have anything remotely werewolfy for them to do. also I don’t wanna draw wolves. I was gonna say ‘I just want werewolf dynamics without having to draw wolves’ but that’s just abo fic. which I am not above, I do love some mate bonding and like packs. it’s about a bunch of queer kids coming together and like doing stuff. when I was designing them I was super into Wet Moon by Sophie Campbell? So I was like thinking of just some just like intense character based journeys. Really original, “hello I would like to write queer found family personal drama?” groundbreaking. I wanna though...

Tamara’s kind of a sheltered baby of her family, she’s trans and her parents got a little hover-parent over it. She started her transition in her childhood so she was on puberty blockers and the whole thing, she was kind of a shut in because she’s shy and a nerd and didn’t get out much until she went to art school and the story starts. So she’s a shy lover of anime and cute things and she wants to be a manga artist and art school is going to be very hard because like why write a story about a thoroughly uneventful time? like I said I have no idea where the werewolf shit would fit in. I gotta admit this started focused entirely on the other main character Jon who has been through many incarnations but when they started being werewolves was like an uwu omega special werewolf mage.. so like there’s a confused disconnect between what was clearly self indulgent spank bait and what was supposed to be a lot of character drama.

which I suppose isn’t to say intense character drama can’t be spank bait but I think probably not with abo dynamics lol. though it would be interesting to play it straight and see if I’m a good enough writer to pull it off (I’m not) I do hears that there’s a market for it in the world of self publishing lol I just wanna write like batshit insane drama like a soap opera. I think part of me still misses the high of being into Teen Wolf, I just want extreme relationship drama and love triangles and found family and one night stands and shit combined with like monster of the week supernatural garbage. “Hi we’re a bunch of queer college age werewolves we solve ghost crimes” I want that. if teen wolf could get away with some prosthetics and eye effects, I can too. please don’t still be reading this I put it under the cut because I knew I was going to end up talking too much. I have to either say nothing about a drawing or explain my whole thought process, there is no in between.

Cutesy e-girl weeb goes to art school and maybe does supernatural adventures but definitely ends up the focal point in a love teetertotter between her best friend since childhood who went to college one year earlier and got like suuuuper attractive and it’s a little weird but she honestly couldn’t love anyone more, and the hot nonbinary fellow art student with like... depths. I know it doesn’t sound like it should be much of a fight but like just because a relationship is new it doesn’t make it less good. and theoretically the hot nonbinary artist is very hot so don’t give up on him yet. Though childhood friend is also theoretically hot. Everyone is theoretically hot because I wanna make them hot.

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Thank U, Next | Poe Dameron x Reader (2/2)

Prompt: Joy

Fandom: Star Wars (Sequel Trilogy)

Words: 6049 (idk what happened)

Warning: Minor swearing? Mentions of bullying. Some chonks of dialogue here and there.

A/N: So this became longer than expected, but I wanted to make sure I wrapped up everything. I hadn’t written this much for a fic in a long time and I hope a coherent story came out of it.

-

You dropped off a container of beef stew at Finn’s house and was dragged into a long conversation by his parents on what you’ve been up to. It was always the same spiel that you told the others. You had a cozy apartment in New York, you had work published, and now you’re waiting for your big break. Half an hour before lunch, you excused yourself, giving yourself time to calm down before you reached the diner.

You were the first to arrive, picking a booth near the corner and a window. When the waiter came by, you debated whether you should order for Poe, assuming that his taste buds are the same, then thought better of it. You simply ordered two waters and said you were expecting someone else.

Poe’s truck pulled into the parking lot eight minutes later. He spotted you through the window and waved. You offered a smile, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as he made his way inside the diner.  The waiter came by just as Poe sat down. He flipped through the menu and gave his order, saying exactly what you thought he’d order. He hadn’t changed. The waiter left after you gave him your order.

“So, how are things?” Poe asked.

You shrugged. “They’re good,” you said, “You?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just good?”

“Yeah, you know. What else can I say? Nothing eventful had happened lately. Everything’s just routine at this point.”

He hummed, not buying it. “What happened to the story you wrote our senior year? I would have thought that you’d do some revisions before getting published.”

“Oh, that thing,” you said, feigning indifference as you wiped the side of your cup with a finger, “It’s… I kind of gave up on that one, you know?”

“Why? It was so good!”

You shrugged again. You wanted to believe him, but this nagging feeling in your brain, telling you that he was lying, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking, wouldn’t stop every time he complimented your story. It was like a sensory alarm that went off every time he touched a certain subject. You had hoped that you’d get over this feeling, but it was something that was more recent than your time with Poe was, and it affected you more deeply and painfully.

“Didn’t think it’d be something that I wanted to be known for. I wanted to try different writing styles and genres to find where I fit. Besides, I didn't think you’d remember that one. It was so long ago.”

“Are you kidding me? I loved that story. There were moments that made me laugh, made me cry, and it was just so relatable and interesting. I really think you should revisit that one.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Maybe it’ll help my writer’s block.”

The rest of the day was spent on eating and talking about high school. He brought up the time when someone tried to pull a prank on the soccer team by spiking their watercooler during an important game, but got caught because the cooler fell over them. Then, that time when he was performing with his band and one of his fangirls ran on stage to try and kiss him.

“There were so many people that hated me when we were together,” you said, shaking your head.

“Aw, come on. I don’t think it was that bad,” he said.

You scoffed. “Poe, I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without girls following me, sneering at me and telling me that I wasn’t good enough for you. That one day you were going to leave me for someone else once you got bored of me and that you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. Remember the time we went to Rose’s house when her parents were away and some asshole invited a bunch of people? We got separated and your fangirls decided to team up and dunk me into the pool and hold me there. If Finn, Snap, and Kare weren't there, I would have drowned.”

Poe frowned, sitting back. “I… I didn’t know that happened. (Y/n/n), why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, scratching your head in frustration, memories of your arguments over it resurfacing. “I did, but you dismissed it. You said that they were drunk and didn’t mean it to go that far.”

“(Y/n/n), I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know. I just thought… I don’t know why, but I thought you were exaggerating. I should have known better. I should have known that you wouldn’t lie about these kinds of stuff.”

“Yeah… which was one of the reasons why I thought we wouldn’t have lasted long after we graduated,” you said softly. “All kinds of problems when it comes to long distance relationships.”

“We could have at least tried.”

“And if it came to the point where someone tells you that, I don’t know, that I was cheating on you, which has happened to many couples that are involved in the military, what would you have done? Or if something happened while you were away? Were you just going to brush it off, or get angry if I want to talk about it?”

“Well, we'll never know, now, will we?” he countered.

You let out a heavy sigh, gathering your things. “I’m sorry. I’m instigating again,” you said, taking out some bills to pay for the meal, “It really was nice to talk to you again, Poe, really. I think it’s best if I get going.”

Poe’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “No, you’re not running away again. Please, let’s just take this conversation elsewhere, okay? I’ve got the check. Meet me by the docks?”

He pleaded with his warm brown eyes, his grip on you loosening. He grabbed your money and gave it back to you, taking out his own wallet to pay. You reluctantly let him, shoving the money back in your bag.

“Fine. The docks at eight.”

“Thank you.”

-

You stopped by the house before meeting Poe, helping your mother with some chores around the house. Your mother was acting weird, glancing at you every now and then with a weird look. You asked her what was wrong, but she simply shrugged it off.

“So, I heard that you and Poe were hanging out today,” she said casually as she washed the dishes.

“Really?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s a small town, kid,” she said with a shrug, “Besides, I like him. Good kid. Stubborn, though, wanting to follow his parents’ footsteps in the military. A bit oblivious, too. I remember you coming home upset because he got carried away when talking with his friends and he didn’t realize that there were girls flirting with him. Besides all of that, you guys were good together. Not like that guy from New York-”

“Is that what this is all about?” You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms.

Your mother turned the faucet off and wiped her hands. “Sweetie, I heard from Armitage that Ben was in town-”

“He’s telling everyone, has he? What a rat.”

She shook her head. “Millicent was in the garden again and Armitage came by to get her. It just sort of came up about Ben. Armitage was just concerned for you, that’s all.”

“If he’s so concerned, then he should have told his friend to stop being an asshole.”

“Armitage said they stopped talking after he heard about what happened between the two of you.”

You walked away, sitting at the dining table without a word. Your mother sighed, taking a seat next to you. She took your hands into her own, but you refused to look at her.

“I’m sensing that there are things that you have not told me about what happened between you and Ben. I’m not forcing you to tell me, just that I’m always here to talk, okay?” You nodded. She leaned forward, pecking your forehead, before patting your shoulders. “Right, you’re going to meet your pilot boy. Tell him I said hi, alright?”

“Okay.”

The bed of Poe’s truck was facing the docks, the tailgate open with a lamp sitting on it. Poe was taking out a cooler and a blanket when you arrived. He took out a beer bottle from the cooler and handed one to you before hopping onto the tailgate. You followed suit, grabbing the bottle opener while you stared out at the water.

“Excited for the reunion?” he asked.

“Yes and no. Probably just going to stick to my people the whole night.”

Poe nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I lost touch with a lot of people when I left. Gonna be weird to see my old friends from school.”

“And your fangirls?” you teased.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “They’re probably all married anyways.”

“They’ll probably leave their husbands’ sides to follow you. I mean, look at you. You’re still quite a catch, Poe.”

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I only want one person to catch me, though. If they want me.”

“Can’t imagine why anyone would want to be caught by… that person. They seemed to only mess things up.”

“Hey, that’s not true. A relationship isn’t just one person, (Y/n). I’ve messed some stuff up, too. Hell, I haven’t been able to maintain a long relationship for a while. People break up for one reason or another. But, sometimes, that doesn’t mean they can’t try again.”

You took a swig of your beer and leaned back, feeling his eyes following your every movement. You shifted in your spot, turning back to the water in front of you. Light from the docks and the town reflected off its inky black surface, a sliver of the moon peeking out from the clouds, illuminating everything else.

“You’re saying you wanna try ‘us’ again? Poe, you’re up in the air most of the time.”

“That’s true, but your work can be done anywhere, right? You’ve always said that you wanted to travel and it would help your writing. Maybe this time, you can come with me.”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“Would it be crazy to say that I never stopped thinking about you?”

“It’s pretty crazy, actually.”

A long time ago, those sweet words would have heated your cheeks and made you feel giddy. Now you take each word with hesitation and skepticism, as if those sugar cubes were actually salt blocks. It’s one thing to say sweet things, it’s another to act on them.

“Besides,” you said, the bottle inches from your lips, “We’re not the same people from high school anymore.”

“Then, we’ll start over.”

You sighed. “Can we just drop it for now and enjoy the view?”

“Okay,” he relented, shifting around to get comfortable, “We can do that.”

You stayed like that until it was late. It was nice to sit in silence. It wasn’t awkward between you two, just two people enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Such a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of New York with an active nightlife.

When it was time to head home, Poe pulled you into a long hug, the heat from his body radiating off of him and shielding you from the cold breeze. You slowly raised your arms, wrapping them around him. You missed this. You missed him. So much. You wished you could stop pulling away from him, but you had scars that you weren’t ready for him to see.

-

One more day until your class reunion. You weren’t exactly jumping for joy, but it wasn’t like you were going to be alone, either. You met up with Finn and Rey at the mini golf course, taking turns while you talked. Even though you met Rey recently, it was like talking to an old friend. You would tell her about the time Finn claimed to have asthma so he’d be excused from running laps in PE and she’d tell you how they met and how they felt like they were going to die on one of their dates when the elevator stopped working.

After the last round and almost getting smacked by Rey’s bicep, the three of you went to go and get pizza. It was under new owners from the last time you’ve been there, but they kept the retro charm with the brick and mortar walls and arcade games in the corner.

“So,” Finn said, sipping his soda as he narrowed his eyes at you, “I heard you were hanging around with Dameron.”

You groaned, taking a big bite of your pizza. Finn smirked, unfazed by your glare.

“Who’s Dameron, again?” Rey asked.

“Poe. One of (Y/n)’s exes,” he said, “Pretty cool dude, too. They broke up because he wanted to go join the military.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling everyone about my love life, friend,” you said.

“Understandable,” Rey, looking at you sympathetically, “I heard it’s hard to maintain a relationship when your significant other is in the military.”

“Thank you.”

“I shipped you two so hard,” Finn continued, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Well, life… you know?”

Finn nodded, raising his soda. You and Rey clinked your glasses with his and drank.

“I can tell you one thing, though, I’ve heard about our classmates, and less than half of them ended up in the same career path that they had set out to do when we graduated. Man, so much for pressuring us to pick our college major in Freshman year, right? Why couldn’t they have taught us budgeting and work ethic in different work environments?”

You hummed. “Maybe you should be a teacher, Finn.”

“See?” Rey said excitedly, pointing at her fiance, “That’s what I’ve been telling him!”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve been concentrating on more fitness. Maybe be a PT? Rey’s the one getting her doctorates, so when I go to her high school reunion, I can be the trophy husband to a successful doctor.”

“Aw, Finnie.” Rey leaned her head on his shoulder.

You sighed, drinking your soda as if it was alcohol. The price you pay for hanging out with your friends who are a couple, becoming the third wheel. You looked down at your tray of pizza. Maybe you could try and finish it all by yourself. Sometimes when they’re wrapped up in each other, it’ll take a while for them to snap out of it, which means you might be there for a while.

-

You couldn’t sleep that night, knowing that Ben was going to be there. So far, you hadn’t ran into him, which was saying a lot because you ran into a lot of old classmates and teachers the past few days. Unless he was actively avoiding you.

Your mother found you sitting at the kitchen table slouching over two chocolate pudding cups. She wordlessly got her own cup and sat next to you, waiting. You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Where to begin?

“The reason why I haven’t written my book is… because I had been writing scripts for Ben,” you said, staring down at your spoon, “Scripts that Ben had taken and put under his name, and his name alone. I didn’t know until I went to visit him on one of his sets that he had done that. He said that he took my idea and changed some of the major points of the story, so he technically wrote it. Then, I went to the film festival with him and saw that it was almost exactly the same script that I wrote. I foolishly did it again and again, believing him when he said that he’ll have me more involved in his movies and… he didn’t.”

You shook your head, opening another pudding cup. Your mother waited patiently, nodding for you to continue.

“When I confronted him about it, he confessed that he made some deal with an indie film studio and that it would be more profitable and more exposure for him to take the credit. After all, I only write simple little stories that even a high schooler could write,” you added the last bit bitterly, “I’m scraping by while doubting my life choices of doing something I love instead doing something where I won’t gamble whether I’d earn enough money to pay for food and rent. Meanwhile, Ben’s having a field day winning awards for his directing and screenwriting at film festivals, not that he ever lived uncomfortably, being the mayor’s son and all.

“I just,” you sighed in frustration, your eyes beginning to sting as the exhaustion and anger took over you, “I’ve been told so many times how I’m not good enough, how writing won’t pay the bills, how writing doesn’t even take any skills or effort. I’ve been talked down to because of my choices, as if I was stupid or lazy. I’ve been trying to use spite to get me through this, reminding myself that this is what I’ve always wanted to do, no matter how many times the publishers tell me to change my stories into another cliche, but it’s tiring. It’s not enough. And I was stubborn to try and stick to my guns instead of compromising, because that would mean that everyone was right and that whole thing with Ben… I thought I could finally be with someone without giving up my dreams, but being with him made me question whether they should just stay as dreams and not a reality.”

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother said softly, pulling you in as you furiously wiped the tears that just kept falling.

“I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know if I want to write anymore. I tried and… nothing seemed to stick. Nothing felt right.”

“And you think if you were to take a job in, I don’t know, accounting, would you be happy? Even if it paid your bills and helped you buy that nice apartment?”

“No, of course not, but at least it’s something. It’s not like anyone is impressed with a writer unless they’re New York Times’ bestseller and become a movie franchise. It’s so frustrating. I want to do what I love, but I want to live comfortably while doing it.”

“And you will,” your mother assured you, rubbing your back soothingly, “I can feel that you’re close, so close to making it. You just have to keep pressing on. You’ll get there and it wouldn’t be to prove people wrong or show Ben up, it’ll be for you. Go back and find that drive you had when you began writing, everything else will follow. You are talented, (Y/n), and you have people that love you and care for you. If things are meant to be, if you feel it in your heart that it’s right, then it will work out.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“There better be a dedication for me at the front of the book.”

You both laughed. “Yeah, it might take a whole page.”

-

Talking with your mother helped ease your nerves a bit and Finn and Rey had texted you, offering to carpool with them. You accepted, being reassured once again that they’ll have your back.

You dressed casual, not expecting anything too fancy for the reunion. On your way towards campus, Finn began to play music that was popular from your time at school and you discovered that Rey had an amazing voice.

“You think that they’ll make a slideshow?” Finn asked.

“God, I hope not,” you groaned, “I looked terrible.”

“No, you didn’t! You dated two of the hottest guys in school, me and Dameron,” he said confidently.

“Nice compliment while tooting your own horn there, friend.”

“Hey, and also, you can tell that looks don’t matter to you ‘cause you had a crush on Hux, too.”

“Hey, I thought he was cute. Don’t judge me.”

“Oh, is he the ginger one that we saw the other day walking his cat?” Rey asked. Finn nodded. “I… I can kind of see it. Yeah.”

“You don’t sound convincing. Anyways! You guys were talking about visiting New York sometime this year?”

There was a new gym on your old high school campus, topped with solar panels and an air condition unit. The parking lot was gradually filling up, a trickle of a line leading into the new gym, the front double doors wide open with streamers and balloons in the school’s colors bordering them.

Finn pulled up next to a familiar truck, making you roll your eyes. He flashed you a cheeky grin before climbing out, rushing around to hold Rey’s door open. You stared at the campus, at the newly painted walls, cleaner drinking water fountains, neatly trimmed grass, and the large banner that ran across the front of the main office welcoming your alumni class. You could see your younger self hanging out by the old gym with your friends, or waiting outside of the bandroom for Poe, or setting up a booth for your school club.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Poe asked from behind you.

“You have to stop doing that,” you scolded him, smacking his arm.

He winced, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “At least you’re slowly treating me like how you used to.”

“Hey, Dameron!” Finn called out, tackling him into a hug.

Poe grunted before hugging him back. “Hey, you act like we haven’t drank together earlier this week. This must be Rey, right?”

Rey smiled, coming over to give him a more gentle hug. “Nice to meet you, Poe. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said.

While the two of them conversed about flying vehicles, you pulled Finn on the side, looking around cautiously. “I forgot to tell you before we came here…,” you started in a hushed tone, “So, there’s this thing with Ben-”

“Ben Solo?”

“Yes, him, I want to pretty much avoid him if possible and I need your help with that.”

Finn frowned in concern, cracking his knuckles. “Did he hurt you?”

“He never hit me,” you said quickly, “Just… it just really affected me mentally and emotionally, you know? I just don’t want to deal with that right now.”

“When did this happen?”

“We ran into each other in New York at a book signing. We caught up with each other, got coffee, then we started dating, so… that was a while ago, though.”

Finn nodded, patting your shoulder. “Don’t worry. We got your back, remember? Does Poe know?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Great, ‘cause him and Solo had some beef in high school.”

“Of course he does. Poe thinks he’s some kind of resistance leader or something.”

All four of you made your way towards the gym, signing in and writing out your name tags. Finn looped his arm with Rey and dragged her towards the punch bowl, leaving you trailing behind with Poe. He slowly offered his arm for you to take. You stared at it for a while as he nudged you with it. You thought back to what your mother had told you. You had people that love and care about you. Despite what happened between you two, despite the years apart, Poe Dameron still cared. Even if you weren’t able to move your relationship forward to more than friends, he would at least still be in your life.

You wrapped your arms around his bicep, the corner of Poe’s lips turning up as you did so, and the two of you made your way over to where Finn was talking to one of your former teachers, Lando Calrissian. He turned and broke into a wide smile as he greeted the two of you.

Throughout the day, the four of you made your rounds with the teachers and your fellow classmates. Just as you predicted, some of the women that had a crush on Poe briefly left their husbands’ side to greet him and linger around, finding any form of small talk as an excuse to stick around.

“I heard the two of you broke up after graduation,” one of them said, “Did you two get back together?”

“Not yet,” Poe answered before you could say anything, “Still tryna win (Y/n) over again. Worth it, though, right?” He bumped his forehead onto your head in an act of displaying affection.

She forced a smile on her face. “Aw, that’s so sweet,” she said before walking away.

“I should have bet money on that happening,” you muttered.

“Man, did you see her face?” Poe chuckled, turning to face you, “Besides, betting only works if I wanted to oppose you on that, and I’m tired of doing that with you. I was serious, though. I really want us to try again, but if you don’t want to, then fine. If you want to just stay friends, good. One word from you shall silence me forever, (Y/n), I’m serious.”

“Slow down, there, Mister Darcy,” you said, “It’s not even the end of the night yet.”

Your little group grew with the added Janna, Rose, Armitage, Snap, Kare, Jessika, and more came by to talk. Living in New York, you didn’t have much friends. A few writing buddies, a few college classmates, a neighbor, the nice couple that ran the restaurant downstairs, and your editor. Coming here, that uneasy feeling that you had, you realized, was vulnerability. It wasn’t something you’d normally do living in New York, even around friends. But, with these people, the ones that you grew up with, it was easy to let your guard down and enjoy the moment.

You were having fun and you were glad that you decided to come. Though as time went on, you felt your throat tighten and your eyes stinging. It was starting again. You excused yourself, walking out of the gym for some air. Poe watched you leave, concern written all over his face. Rose nudged him, assuring that you were fine and needed air.

You sat down on one of the benches overlooking the basketball and tennis courts. Leaning back, you inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly. Whenever you felt overwhelming happiness, dread was always there waiting to ruin it. You couldn’t even remember when it started, but you became better at dealing with it.

“Didn’t think you’d come.”

You froze, not wanting to turn to face the source of that voice. Out of all times that he would try to approach you, he chose the time where you were alone away from everyone else. You sensed him sit down next to you. For a while, you sat in silence. It was a different silence than with Poe. With Poe, it was comforting and relaxing, with no words needed to be said. By the end of it, you would feel refreshed like you had come out of meditation. With Ben, it was like sitting with an energy vampire, and by the end of it, you felt tired and drained.

“I didn’t think you’d come, either,” you said, your voice breaking the silence. You tried to raise your chin, preparing for battle.

Ben sighed, shifting around. You heard crumpling, then something nudging your hand. You looked down and saw a thick manila envelope. You dared to look up at him for the first time in a year. He looked tired.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“It’s… I’m sorry that I took your work, took everything that you could have used as evidence to prove that they’re your work,” he said, looking down, “I’ve gathered all of them and put it in your envelope so you could submit it for copyright. If you want to take legal actions, I’ll happily allow it.”

Allow it. Sure. As if he was giving me permission. He’s probably patting his back for this one good deal he’s doing. You took the envelope, feeling the weight of it, picturing all the scripts that you had written in the past. Writing came easy to you back then. Then you remembered all the lies he had told you. When you were no longer willing to do what he wanted, you were no longer useful. There was this heavy feeling in your chest, something wanting to come out unless you’ll explode. The sad thing was that he wasn’t always like this, and it was probably why you foolishly kept overlooking or denying his bad behavior.

“We could have worked together,” you said, “And you had to go and pull that shit?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” It was hard to tell if he was being genuine. You could no longer trust your instincts when it came to him.

“You would dare criticize my writing when you couldn’t even write anything for yourself? And you just know that I would believe all of it, and you still kept at it. Do you know how hard it was to write anything after what you put me through? Being told my writing is not complex or sophisticated enough, being told that my own scripts aren’t even my own, watching you keep those awards for screenwriting while no one else would want to even look at my work? Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Ben Solo.”

Ben inhaled sharply. “Then, what the hell do you want me to do, huh? All your stuff is there. Go and copyright it, sue me for plagiarism, and I’ll pay you the fees.”

“Fees that you could easily pay off,” you said, standing up, “But when I do speak to my lawyer, I’ll see what else I can do to you.”

“Yeah, would you be happy then?”

You glared down at him. “After all of that, I’ll finally be free of you, so maybe I will be,” you said, then added in a low voice, “It’s a shame, though. I thought we worked well together, but sharing wasn’t exactly your thing. You hurt me, Ben. I don’t think we could even be friends after this.”

“Right, like how your close friends with Armitage, Finn, and Poe, right? Just friends?” Ben snapped.

You shook your head at him. “You are utterly ridiculous, Solo. Just be glad I hadn’t told your mom about what you did.”

You let out another slow exhale as you walked away, your work in hand, and a heavy weight left behind. It wasn’t completely over, but the burden of it hanging over your shoulders was gone. All that was left was tying loose ends. Then after, you can start again.

In the gym, they had already set up the small stage with chairs scattered about. Poe sat on stage with a guitar in hand. He shifted on the stool that was clearly too small for him, tuning the guitar as he looked around. You found an empty seat between Rey and Rose at the front and sat down. Poe smiled as you met his eyes and he began to play.

At the end of the night, you and the girls decided to hang out for the rest of the week before you and Rey had to fly back home. You exchanged numbers and looked up movies playing. A few of you had different choices of movies, but Rose suggested that they should time it so we could watch all of them. After parting with the others, Poe jogged up to you.

“Hey,” he said, “I really enjoyed the past few days. It was nice to hang out again. I’m, uh, I actually have to leave tomorrow night. One of the pilots got sick, so… I was wondering, ‘cause I know you’re spending time with the girls and I don’t want to take too much of your time, but if you could see me off? Even if just for a few minutes.”

You sighed, looking down at your shoes, then back at Rose and Rey who had paused their conversation to give you a thumbs up. You shook your head and turned back to Poe. He waited patiently with pleading eyes, chipping away at your remaining walls.

“Okay. Just text me what time and I’ll try to be there before you go,” you said, taking out your phone.

You handed your phone over and watched as Poe excitedly inputted his number before texting himself. “Okay, all set,” he said.

“This doesn’t mean anything more than it has to be,” you reminded him.

“I know. We’ll take it one step at a time. Restart.”

“Thank you, Poe,” you said softly, stepping forward and catching him by surprise as you pulled him into a hug.

Poe returned the hug, engulfing you fully. “Don’t mention it, (Y/n/n). I’m one call away if you need me.”

-

The next day, you drive to the airport an hour before Poe heads off to his gate. As a pilot, he could pass the gruelling standard TSA checks and flash his ID, but he waited for you in his pilot uniform. Jessika had given you all a ride and offered to drive you to the airport. They girls had gone to Starbucks while you made your way over to his airlines.

He spotted you, giving you a long salute, which you returned, then grabbed his luggage, making his way towards the escalators up. He turned around one last time and waved. Raising your hand to wave back, you couldn’t help but see his military uniform instead of his pilot uniform, thinking what if you had at least been there when he was first shipped off. When he was out of sight, you turned and slowly made your way towards the others.

Coming back to your hometown, you didn’t expect much to happen. You expected nostalgia, of course, like looking at an old doll house you used to play with. The bittersweet feeling in your stomach as you flipped through photo albums with your mother, as you drive by your old hang out spots, and seeing your classmates for the first time in ten years. You expected to feel distant from them. These were all familiar things, but you were not the same person that left this town, and neither is everyone else.

You didn’t expect to be pulled into a warm embrace, to be fully welcomed back, to be seen and treated as yourself as you are now and not expected to be yourself from ten years ago. You didn’t expect this much confrontation, of the past coming back and making you face them head on to set things straight. You didn’t expect to feel lighter and stronger and more confident, acknowledging everything that you had gone through and their effects on you, that they were things that you were capable of overcoming.

On your last day in your hometown, until next time, you had a teary goodbye with your friends and your mother. You promised to be in more touch with them this time and that they were free to visit you in New York any time.

Taking your window seat and settling in, you took out your journal and flipped through all the scribbles of ideas you had done. You turned to a blank page and began to write. You ignored any grammatical mistakes you made and kept going, knowing that once your flow is going, you had to go with it or get stuck. The only thing that stopped you was a familiar voice.

“Good morning, passengers, and thank you for choosing our airlines-” Poe announced.

You smiled, leaning back in your chair. After talking to your mother about what you were going to do once you got back to New York, you decided that you weren’t going to worry about things too far in the future. You were going to focus on the present and set up long and short time goals. You could still work on that novel, but you could also put together anthologies for a start. Maybe go back into script writing. Maybe even revisit that story you wrote in high school.

It’s just like what Poe said, life was funny. You plan something, you end up doing something else, but if it was meant to be, you somehow end up where you had always wanted to go from the start.

And you feel that it’s finally happening for you.

[bazz-a]

Hi, I am a new fanfic writer and I really love your work especially because you are one of the few writers that can take the Naruto world to a modern setting and do it well. I would love to know your do's a don'ts for fic writing. Like what turns you away from a fic immediately and tips about process, would be super helpful! Thank you and I look forward to reading more of your works!

hey!!!! first of all thank you so much for your kind words, I’m smiling like an idiot! I was really nervous about starting off my fanfiction career with a modern AU because I know the majority of the fandom doesn’t like that, so it’s good to know I’m doing a good job with it and still managing to be faithful to the characters!!!

ohhh god ok! so, I’m really new to the world of fanfiction too! I only started reading for real about one year ago, and I only started writing (fanfiction) in last July. I’ve been writing for eleven years ago, though, although I only shared it with a very select group of friends who also wrote and we kinda created stories with OCs, you know? and that’s soooo different from fanfiction in a sense that I never received ANY feedback for my writing from my friends since we only just did it to have fun and never published it anywhere, and I was freaking OUT when I decided to write this story. I didn’t know if my writing style was good enough for fanfiction (now I know there is absolutely no such thing, we all write differently and that’s the beauty of it), I didn’t know if I would be able to ignore negative comments, and many other things that were giving me a lot of anxiety. but I’m really really glad I decided to go through with it and I’m really happy you’re doing it too!!!! putting your writing out there is really scary but it’s really rewarding too!

ok now when it comes to tips! I think the biggest dos and don’ts I can give you are also huge cliches, but with these few months since I’ve started sharing my work I started realising how real and important they are: first of all, you write for YOURSELF above EVERYTHING else! it’s always ok to put stuff your readers wanna see and all (and they always appreciate it), but please never ever ever refrain from writing about stuff you love in fear of what people are gonna say/think about it! that’s the most important part of it, I think, doing it for your own pleasure and your own tastes above all else. that’s when our best work comes out and the passion you put into writing always shows, you know? also, something that I’ve learned since I’ve started this project and I’m still trying to deal with is: you’re always your biggest critic. and at the same time that that’s good, it is also bad. the amount of times I’ve tried to convince myself I’m doing a shit job and that I suck at this are way higher than they should be, and honestly if it weren’t for my friends who are also on this whole thing with me I’m pretty sure I would’ve dropped running out of reasons. so yeah, always listen to yourself and your desires, write what YOU want to write, but don’t listen to yourself if your subconscious starts trying to talk you out of it. I don’t know if you have friends that you include in this fandom part of your life but it’s always good to count on people for support! if not, you can count on me to hype you up! for real, I’m always here and I’d love to help with whatever I can

when it comes to tips about writing, I’m afraid that’s all I can give you! write the story the way you know you would enjoy it if you read it, your passion will always be appreciated!

when it comes to what turns me away from a fic... well there’s not much, honestly. when it comes to grammar and stuff I’m super tolerant and understanding because I’m not a native English speaker and I know the struggle (once I received a review saying I should use Grammarly bc some of my prepositions were wrong and honestly that made me so so so bad, you know?). I do know that whenever I open a fic that has no paragraph breaks it freaks me out a little bit (it’s only happened twice but I was SHOOK ahahah), but I’m pretty sure that’s all for me. 

when it comes to plot, sometimes I don’t finish a fic if it crosses a line for me. in my case it usually happens in very specific situations such as one specific fic that started dealing with non con, which I am not comfortable with, so it made me close the tab and never open it again. still, I would never say a word about it to the author because that’s the thing about fanfiction, writers have the right to write about whatever they want, and readers have the right to read about whatever they want. I hate it when someone feels the need to inform the writer that they stopped reading bc of “reasons”, bc I feel like that truly has the potential to unmotivate the creator and that’s never, ever good.

also, it really sucks to see the stats of my fic and know that the amount of people who stop reading in the first chapter is REALLY big, but at the same time it’s ok that what I wrote it’s not their cup of tea. it’s just impossible to make everyone happy, I guess, and that’s a hard pill to swallow.

now tips about process!!!!! oof now you’ve got me.... I’m terrible at processes in general. honestly. I’m terribly disorganised in every single aspect of my life, and I’ve always been that way, but somehow that’s the way I function (under complete and absolute chaos). if you’re a person who likes to stick to deadlines and feel more motivated that way, then feel free to set them on yourself! I’d also like to add that no matter what process you choose, whether organised or not, with deadlines or not, please please please be kind to yourself! I’m telling you this because I am NOT kind to myself and I know how shitty that is and I don’t want you going through the same thing! writer’s block happens, burnout happens, and sometimes you just don’t wanna write and that’s perfectly ok!

I’m SO sorry for how huge this turned out to be! I got really carried away. I hope I was able to help you at least a little, and I’d love to read your work when you publish it!!! please share it with me, ok? also, remember that I’m always here if you want support <3

[jbbuckybarnes]

Advice for getting started & making friends 💕

Since Tumblr ruined the original answer post to the ask: Hi!!! Thank you. I’ll go a little more in-depth with the answer and I hope you don’t mind.

1. Always know that no matter how good or bad you think your writing is: There are Wattpad books that were made into movies, so there will always be someone that will like what you write.

2. Tagging. Is. Important. Even though Tumblr is incredibly bad with its tagging system it’s always good to use tags so people following them can see your work. Try not to tag stuff wrong though. Did that a few times without noticing it and people were not happy about it. Understandably so.

3. Also always have warnings on your works and if there is something trigger warning worthy put it in the tags of the post with “xyz tw” and/or “tw xyz”. Also put age warnings in case you write 18+ content.

4. Utilize the option to block tags in case you wanna follow someone but you don’t wanna see certain fandoms/celebs. That also works for trigger warning tags.

5. Don’t feel bad about low reblog numbers. I have this amount of followers now and most of my works get 3-8 reblogs.

6. Don’t be afraid to tag some friendly bigger blogs in your first works. They might love what you do a lot. I, personally, am always up to be tagged in stuff.

7. Join writing challenges. Usually 50% of the bigger blogs have some kind of writing challenge going on. Those are great to get exposure and find other works to interact with. My current one is HERE.

8. When it comes to making friends it really depends. I think interacting frequently is a good start, but I found actual Tumblr DM’s to be the most helpful. Write your favorite writers that you liked a particular piece of their work or if you know you both have another shared interest, you can send them a Tumblr post about that. Example: I send baking enthusiasts cool looking food posts. But sometimes even DM’s don’t lead anywhere. Some people on here just don’t really want to make friends.

9. Interact with people’s personal posts. You’ll learn a bit about them from those. For example: I know that @buckyland​ has a cute cat and prefers greenery in pots and not vases (lmao).

10. Self-promo: I made a Discord server for MCU writers and it’s still going steady. Link for that is in my bio. We’re always excited for new people on there.

11. Asks are a great way to support writers beyond reblogging. Ask games are a great way to interact. Sending Requests is also appreciated by most people having open requests.

12. Decide if you want your own asks to include anons or not. But be prepared that if you enable anon asks, that you might get some dumbass spewing bullshit in there every few weeks (at least if you interact a lot w others). Vividly remember my first hate for interacting with my favorite writer.

13. Depending on how much you write you can plan your fics ahead. I, for example, publish most of my chapter based works once a week and only start publishing once they are at least 75% written. Others have ongoing works but I feel like the consensus on it is mostly “wait until you have a good idea of the ending or a rough outline.” @captain-kelli for example, writes her 'Call Sign: Renaissance’ series as an ongoing work but knows where it’s going and plots it out accordingly.

14. Know where to get inspiration. I personally have just trained myself to create everyday. Fiction, non-fiction, art, graphics, etc. It’s a good habit to have, but if you don’t have it you might wanna start an inspiration list or a side blog where you spam all your inspirations. Pinterest also is a good place for that.

15. Research how to link something in the mobile bio to put your masterlist there. There is this wonderful error Tumblr has, where you can’t change your profile on mobile or those links will vanish, so be aware of that. Just save that HTML code in a document lol.

16. Speaking of documents. I suggest writing your works in Google Documents, since it has a document history to refer to in the awful case of someone stealing your work. Preventative measure.

17. If you want a specific theme for your blog on desktop, you can DM me, I have tons of resources saved on another blog of mine.

18. For a nice mobile theme, you can visit @whimsicalrogers, search for headers and icons on Tumblr or request them from talented people per ask or DM. *cough* I make some too. *cough*

19. Oh, I also almost forgot this, but ALWAYS put a “Read More” break after more than 500 words in your posts. On desktop it mostly works in the normal editor, but there are also HTML codes in case it doesn’t work or you are on mobile. Basically, learn a few HTML basics for Tumblr in general, they always come in handy when this hellsite decides not to work.

Bottomline: Don’t be afraid to interact with your nickname being there front and center. Let yourself get seen. If your fandom blog is a side blog you can link them to each other in the bio like I did.

PS: The main reason why I got so many followers very quickly was for writing 31 smut pieces early on and tagging them well. Please know that follower count doesn’t mean much on here as long as the algorithm is trashy. Stick with interacting with people you wanna befriend and don’t let yourself get down too much over little reblogging.

But, of course, always try to find and reblog new people. That keeps the community alive and also spreads your name a bit, as well as the names of others.

If you need more advice or have any questions feel free to DM me or another blogger you trust.

To all my fellow bloggers: Feel free to leave more tips under this post. I’m sure I forgot at least one thing lol-

[chloebwrites]

Let’s talk about writing... I’ve seen this question come up quite a lot in the writing community and that is...

Imposture Sydrome & Can I Be A Good Writer Without Reading?

Yes. I’m going to talk about both. And am going to be as transparent - most real on here through my own personal experience.

Let’s dive in. Shall we?

Ok. I will be honest, I feel like a fraud when I write. I feel like I’m preaching to myself “go read” and “you have to enjoy reading in order to be a good writer.” etc. while also feeling torn because I don’t read as many books as everyone else.

I read like a snail and it usually takes a month to chew down a book because I’m absorbing everything - I might get through one maybe two in a year that’s if life doesn’t get busy. I have to MAKE time, carve it out of my day to read 30pgs. And my attention span intends to lasts for 10 pages deep, so if the book doesn’t hook me - I won’t be finishing it.

I tell myself “get through 30pgs...” and beg myself to enjoy a book that’s been hyped up. And then what happens? I jump the gun and am holding a new book while doing the same thing.

I tell myself, I’m a bookaholic, “i love books” and “a good writer loves reading therefore I need to love reading as well” and then the same cycle intends to happen over and over again. The problem doesn’t lie with the book or reading at all but rather with my personal taste. Discovering the genre and book style has been difficult. And I am still learning what I like.

The first book I remember that made me enjoy reading (apart from Rainbow Magic books) was Tryelle by Amanda Hocking - Switched - I ate up the first story so quick that I gave it to my cousin and bought the trilogy. The only reason for not finishing Torn was because I hated the love triangle - I was rooting for Fin & Wendy and wanted to throw the book across the room when they weren’t going to be a match. The next book that stuck with me was Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. I loved the first book and read it super quick - I still have to read the other three. But the most recent book that I fell in love with was in 2020 was when I Beta Read my good friend’s novel: Winter Soul. I loved it! I ate that book within a month. It made me fall in love with reading all over again. And I’m so honoured to be reading her newly revised version of it.

So maybe it’s me heavily relying on BookTube recommendations and not trusting my own taste and feelings when reading 10pgs into a story? Maybe it’s my procrastination that’s to blame and the fact that I like watching too much Netflix? Maybe it’s “reading is a sport and the more you read and exercise your brain the better it will be” and I get tiered and frustrated with that? Maybe it’s also the frustration with words I don’t understand when authors write on the page and try to be clever? 🤷🏼‍♀️ all I know is that if I love characters and theres a good plot to the story then that’s what makes time fly and gets me hooked on the first few pages.

You see while I acknowledge that I do read, I’m not going to sit here and say. I don’t struggle with it. And as much as I hate to admit it, this learning block comes from not reading a lot when being younger. So I do force myself to read but it’s a constant tug of war that mind you gets easier over time. And while I know I’m a reader, I still try to vailidate myself as a “good reader” while feeling guilty about not reading fast or having read 12 books in a year.... it’s the pressure. And of course then there’s me writing and crafting my own stories and oh wow! I shouldn’t be complaining I should love reading. I am a complete hypocrite! Why am I a writer? I’m so fake!!

Imposture Sydrome hits deep for me. And trust me, I do love reading. The books I’ve mentioned in this post are not the only ones I’ve read. I also know that when reading it does improve my vocabulary, I begin to see how the author crafts clever sentences and foreshadows and all of those amazing techniques. I totally get it and that is why I agree that “I need to read more” and “in order to be a good writer you must read.”

But I can’t help but feel torn between an imposture, a fake it till you make it writer. A wanna be. And Imposture Sydrome... likes to attack me by judging how little I read. And how that’s “not good enough” you should read more and be faster than this... and then it intends to spiral into “you’ll never be a good writer and even if you do make it in the publishing industry... everyone will find out what a fraud you are.”

I often take Imposture Sydrome as a challenge. I’m not a fraud! I can read more! I’ll prove you wrong! I am a good writer! And you can bet your bottom dollar I’m a bloody fantastic reader too!

But ya’ll when I’m having a bad day. And when I’m not in the right headspace it’s always nagging me to quit. Stop reading, donate them to charity. Give up being a writer, stop this facade. Admit the facts... you weren’t cut out for this.

And this is coming from a reader. It doesn’t matter if you read 1 or 10 or 15 or 50 books in a year. If you read, then hunnie you are a reader. And the best part is... you can grow. The more you read. The better you get. The more fancy words you begin to understands and identify. Your writing craft and prose get stronger by looking at how others write and their sentence structure. And I will never force myself to do anything I truly don’t want to do. When I am reading I have a hell of a time so please don’t get me wrong by reading this post and thinking it’s me whining and complaining. I just have my fair struggles with comprehension with prose and words on the page. And I think that’s a fair complaint to make.

So now... back to the main question. Should you read to be a good writer? Yes. It helps a lot and you’ll thank yourself later - if you don’t read a book please read online articles, etc. scripts, comics. Any sort of writing. But for me, nothing beats a good book. I also recommend switching books with betas and reading their work. Because when I started doing that... my writing improved. And my love for reading blossomed all over again.

You’ll find that you do like to read it’s just the genre isn’t your taste. Also I’ll let you in on a secret: you don’t have to read the entire book if you’re dreading it on the first few pages just DNF it and move on. It will take time to grow - your vocabulary, etc. but I’m sure as being a writer does. That playing around with people’s styles and adapting them into your own - it’s like mixing paints. It’s very fun.

Also if you’re a writer before becoming a reader there’s nothing wrong with that either! I began that way and it does take time to love reading. As long as you’re open to books then that’s all that matters.

Read as much. Play with peoples writing styles and your own. Experiment. Read more. Write more. And I think you can give Impostuee Sydrome a strong kick to the curb - because it doesn’t matter how many books you read as long as you are reading. That’s what matters. Now stop being harsh on yourself ❤️

[vrenaewrites]

Ten Mistakes ALL Authors Make.

Sometimes in life, you have ambitions. And sometimes, if you’re really into self hate and consistent nagging doubt, that ambition is to write books. But it’s not easy.

Understatement of the century.

It’s super fucking hard to write a book, guys. It’s hard to write, it’s hard to be a writer, it’s hard to get a book published, it’s hard to sell a lot of books. It’s just all super duper hard. I don’t recommend it, but unfortunately, I can’t help but do it.

If you’re like me, you can’t either. But you can make it easier - ish - on yourself. Here are ten things all writers tend to do that you should stop doing.

10. You’re jumping at the first offer of representation / publication / cover design, etc.

Self-explanatory. INSTEAD: do your research. Be knowledgeable about this industry and what it takes. Know what kind of agents and houses publish and work with your genre and category. Understand the red flags of these different facets of publication. Be choosy with your baby.

9. You’re being way too choosy with your baby.

I said what I said. You’re not Stephen King. People are not shitting their pants in 12 hour lines at Barnes and Noble on your release date. Do not expect a six figure book deal. Do not expect a huge advance. Do not expect to be handed a best-seller on a silver platter. It just doesn’t happen as often as you wanna believe. Period. INSTEAD: It’s okay to know what you want from a publisher, an agent, etc. You should. You should feel empowered to speak up and get what you need from the people you’re working with to bring your book to the masses. Just be realistic, manage your expectations, and understand the typical numbers for someone of your notoriety. In my case, I didn’t have any. So I knew I probably wouldn’t get an advance as a debut unknown nobody. I managed my expectations, so I wasn’t disappointed.

8. You’re not reading your book out loud.

If you are writing a book, it probably has dialogue. If your book has dialogue, it means two people are talking. If two people are talking, it needs to sound like...two people talking. But maybe you feel awkward about your dialogue. Maybe it seems stilted or off somehow. INSTEAD: Read that shit out loud. Have a full-on conversation with yourself. Read the narration in between dialogue in a dramatic voice-over voice. Act out certain quirks or movements to see if someone’s hand could actually move the way you wrote it moving. Even quietly to yourself, saying your writing out loud - especially the dialogue - can work wonders for making your book that much stronger.

7. You aren’t planning your full series out ahead of time.

I’m telling on myself here. I am in the process of finishing up the Thistlewolf trilogy, which is a YA paranormal romance horror series I published book one in October yeah we know ANYWAY. I knew what was supposed to happen in book 3, mostly. But I did not finish plotting out the arc of the final book in my series until November of 2018. A month after book 1 in the trilogy was already published and book 2 was on draft 3 or 4. Which means I have concrete rules of this world and relationships, etc etc, in PRINT. For the world to see. I can’t decide to change things in CB to fit better with what I want to happen in SW. I almost have to write SW around CB in order to avoid plot holes. INSTEAD: Plot your series out ahead of time. Know the major beats of every book and how their arc travels across from the first book to the last. Understand what you want the end result to be and build your previous books around that, not vice-versa.

6. You think you’re entitled to consistent inspiration, and you don’t see the point of working when uninspired.

If writers only wrote when they were inspired, there’d be approximately seven books in the history of the world. Inspiration is awesome. It’s exciting and freeing and fulfilling when you feel inspired to write. But it’s not as common as you’d think. INSTEAD: understand the importance of commitment and dedication over inspiration. Make time for it, and stick to it even when you don’t feel motivated. Push through the blocks and the slumps and understand writing for what it is: hard work.

5. You think your first draft is a book.

My sweet baby angel. It’s not. It’s just not. Don’t show it to people. Don’t query it. INSTEAD: Edit it. Revise it. Rewrite it. Edit it some more. Revise it again. Do more rewrites. Trust me.

4. You are sharing too much about your project on social media at too early of a stage.

Oh hi, all of my March and April videos. I wasn’t done with my garbage draft of BFAS when I started telling y’all all about it, and guess what? Total change of concept, theme, character names, relationships...literally just like the overall setting and message has stayed the same and that’s it. So now, sometimes when I go back to make edits, I feel bad because I’ve already said this thing is this way. Don’t do this. INSTEAD: Have a critique partner or an alpha reader that you can bounce early, terrible ideas off of with abandon instead of blasting your followers with every random idea about your project.

3. You’re treating your readers like they’re dumb.

A writer’s worst enemy is their tendency to over explain things. We spend months, even years of our lives learning and researching to make this book as realistic as possible, and we’ll be damned if we’re not going to include every single detail of how a 1957 Porche Speedster’s engine operates. But here’s the thing: the reader doesn’t give a single fuck about this. And they’ll tune right out when you try to shove unnecessary or plodding information in their faces. INSTEAD: leave them little breadcrumbs to follow. Drop hints and interesting little tidbits, but always leave them wanting more. Leave them asking questions and speculating on what certain things did or didn’t mean. It’s so much more satisfying as a reader to wonder about a story even after it’s over. And you want your story to linger in people’s heads long after they’ve read it. A great way to ensure that is by letting them fill in the blanks.

2. You’re not working on your platform because you haven’t published anything yet.

Oh, my sweet summer child. Social media is the most necessary evil a writer has to master, besides like, the great Oxford comma debate. Use them, shouldn’t be a debate. Anyways. This is the best way a writer can shoot themselves in the foot. INSTEAD: You should establish a presence on your preferred social media platform - or many - prior to ever getting a book deal, querying, editing, all of it. You should basically be trying to put yourself out there and network from the second you decide you wanna try to write a book. It takes time to build a following, and by the time your book is in the world, you want a built-in audience for it. Social media is the best and most widely available tool to do that.

1. You are sabatoging yourself with doubt and imposter syndrome.

If you missed my blog back in June about imposter syndrome, then you probably missed that I struggle with this a LOT. But the bottom line is, everyone gets in their own way from time to time. You are halting your progress and your growth because you feel unworthy or insecure about your ability. I hate to tell you, if you don’t believe in yourself and your work, you can’t really expect anyone else to. INSTEAD: fake it til you make it. Know you’re far from alone. And trust your process.

Please let me know if there’s anything I missed or if you disagree with the mistakes I mentioned here.

[robert-emmett]

So Others May Live, A Coronavirus Story: Part One

In light of the recent Coronavirus epidemic, our online blog asked for submissions from writers for fictional stories inspired by this global crisis.

This submission we received in an unusual way. It arrived at our editor’s doorstep without a return address, with a hazard symbol on the front. Our editor still does not know how the writer acquired his address.

The writer said that they would be sending multiple parts of the story over the next few days, and that if we wanted to take part in a process by which writing itself could save the world, we would be remiss not to publish his writing.

Receiving almost no other submissions, we obliged.

We present to you Part One, with subsequent parts, hopefully, to follow.

Part One

“Look at them out there…”

Pedestrians walk down the street in front of a packed sidewalk cafe. It’s a beautiful day out. Just below the window, Brendan can spot a group of joggers heading north, and then rounding the block towards the Schuylkill. He widens the slits in the blinds and shakes his head.

“They play their little games and they wander out in the sun as if everything is fine, even as the storm approaches. Fools. Fools Terry. Did Nero not fiddle while Rome burned? We are the architects of our own doom, and we do it not out of ignorance, but out of apathy. Out of false confidence. They dance on a stage that’s already on fire, they make plans on a calendar that’s crumbling between their fingers, they go to parties that are-”

Brendan turns to the couch. It’s empty except for a Playstation controller.

His roommate, Terry, exits the bathroom, returns to the couch, picks up the controller.

“What was that?” Terry asks, unpausing the game.

“I just…I had a whole speech. I thought you were on the couch listening,” Brendan says.

“Sorry I was in the bathroom,” Terry says, focusing on the TV.

“Oh.”

“What did you say?”

“Well…it was a whole thing…”

“Tell me.”

“…It was a little stream of consciousness…I don’t know if I I could recreate it…I was talking about how they play their little games, how they’re just…wandering around, out there, and — “

“Who is ‘they’?”

“What?”

“Who is the ‘they’ in the phrase ‘they play their little games’?”

“The people outside. ”

“Outside on the street? I’m confused. Could you start from the beginning?”

Brendan’s face turns red as he grabs the controller out of Terry’s hand.

“PEOPLE ARE NOT TAKING THE CORONAVIRUS PANDEMIC SERIOUSLY TERRY!”

Brendan throws the controller at the wall. It shatters a framed diploma on the wall that slides off its anchor and bounces off the back of the TV and onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” Terry says.

“Are you paying attention now Terry?!”

“I was always paying attention, you just weren’t making any sense!”

“This is serious! Serious like a plague, TERRY!”

“I get it. You are concerned about the coronavirus, as are we all.”

“No Terry. Not all. You and I are concerned, Terry. But the people outside-”

Brendan goes back to the window, opens the slits.

“-they act as if nothing is wrong! As if the quarantine is a polite guideline. ‘Oh, please, kindly stay in your homes, if you possibly could, so you don’t END HUMANITY!’. But while you and I are trapped here, people are outside spreading the virus, infecting everything they touch. In a week they’ll all be sick. In two weeks it’ll be panic in the streets!”

“Well, it is bad. More people should be staying in to flatten the curve, so that we can make sure that the mortality rate is low.”

“Good for you, frequent reader of The Atlantic. But while we know that, everyone else doesn’t give a fuck! And by the time they do, it will be too late.”

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want you to join me in a venture.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not doing a ‘venture’ with you again. Last time I did a ‘venture’ with you my insurance premiums skyrocketed.”

“Terry…”

Brendan gets down on his knee, to Terry’s discomfort.

“I don’t always make requests of you — “

“ — incorrect — “

“- but I need this from you. It is up to us to make a difference.”

“Brendan. Let’s just stay in the apartment and wait it out.”

“That’s not enough. We have to do something dramatic. Something that will make people look up and realize how serious this is.”

“Like what?”

“People in this country are vain and vapid Terry. They only care if illness strikes the famous.”

“Tom Hanks and Idris Elba got coronavirus.”

“But they’re going to recover. Someone needs to die, Terry.”

Slowly, Terry’s eyes narrow.

“Brendan…”

“…and it can’t be anyone. It has to be someone famous. And not just famous. Beloved. Someone whose death would cripple us emotionally, and force people out of the streets and into their homes out of fear. Something that wakes them up!”

“You’re getting that crazy look in your eyes Brendan.”

“We need to kill someone famous with the Coronavirus.”

“Alright.”

Terry stands up from the couch and begins walking towards his room.

“Terry!”

“If you want to use the TV, you can just ask for it.”

“I’m serious! We have to do this Terry. We must.”

Before Terry can respond, Brendan holds up his phone.

“It is already in place. Like a mouse at the start of the Rube Goldberg machine, it just needs to be let out of it’s cage…”

“Just out of curiosity, who are you talking about?”

“…let’s just say that if you were to meet her in person, you’d want to thank her for being a friend…”

After opening his mouth to speak, Terry stops himself. He takes a step towards his roommate.

“Brendan, whatever you’re planning…” Terry starts to say.

With his thumb, Brendan unlocks his phone.

—

“-I mean technically it wasn’t six feet, but I’m not gonna not dance!”

“It’s Saint Patrick’s Day!”

The phone on the marble desk rings. Of the two, the security guard nearest picks it up.

“The Summit, Beverly Hills,” the guard responds.

A car drives up to the security glass. Someone in a Mercedes looking for a specific resident. He’s let through by the other guard.

“No, you’ve got the wrong block entirely, the correct address is 7820 Vine Drive. No problem. Have a nice day.”

“Who was that?”

“Shipment for Betty White. They were looking for her address.”

“I love her.”

“Oh my god. So friendly. Always has something nice to say when she sees me.”

“She is a national treasure. I’d go so far as to say that if anything were to happen to her, it would devastate me!”

“I’d be destroyed! The whole country would!”

Both guards laugh.

—

“-you have a nice day as well.”

Brendan ends the call. He stares at his roommate. A long silence passes between them

“…what did you just do?” Terry asks, still standing in the doorway of his room.

“I just found out the address of Betty White. And I’m going to use it to find her, infect her with the Coronavirus, and have her become the martyr we need.”

“Brendan I’m worried that you’re even suggesting this. How did you know where she lived?”

“Research. Lots of research. It helps to know the Irish, Terry.”

“…is that a saying? I don’t know why, but it sounds racist.”

“Come with me to California. I can’t trust that the final steps will be carried out by anyone

except myself and someone I trust. And that someone is you.”

Terry stares at his roommate, who is still taking a knee in the middle of their apartment. It may just be the light, but Brendan looks particularly tired, worn. His skin is sallow, and there’s a film of sweat covering his body. If Terry didn’t know better, he’d believe that Brendan had the virus.

“…ok,” Terry says.

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not! Because it’s a great plan and I expected you to say yes!”

Brendan jumps to his feet and rushes over to Terry, taking him by the shoulders.

“You won’t regret this! I promise.”

Terry nods, smiling.

He goes into his bedroom and closes the door, noticing that Brendan has just started sweeping up the glass from the picture, and is readjusting his Princeton diploma inside the frame.

—

“So you’re going to stop him?”

“Of course I am.”

Terry extends his arm out a little as he lays back in his bed. He lifts up his phone so Jess can get a better angle of him on FaceTime. A part of him misses her. Another part of him is glad that they’re separated, temporarily. They had been fighting a lot before the quarantine.

“But he wants to go to California, Terry.”

“We’re not gonna get that far.”

“Well…you know maybe you shouldn’t humor him at all.”

“It’s not humoring. Brendan is like a sleepwalker. You can’t just wake him up, you have to let him wake up on his own. It’s for his own sanity. He spirals like this sometimes. It might be helpful if he gets it out of his system.”

“But getting her number?”

“Yeah that’s weird. He is resourceful. And not unintelligent.”

“It’s probably the job thing too.”

“Yeah him being out of work is bad for him. He has too much energy he needs to expend. Plus, he said he would pay for everything.”

“Alright. Well if you think it’s safe…”

She starts to get off the couch.

“Where are you going?” Terry asks.

“I have to give my mom food. I slide it under the door while I wear gloves.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s what you get with chemo. She’s not worried. I am.”

“Tell her I hope she feels better.”

“I will.”

There is a long moment between them as they stare at each other, silently.

“…I miss you Jess.”

“It’s not going to be much longer baby. Call me when you head out. Please stay safe.”

“Wait I wanna talk more. How’s the job?”

“I got a promotion.”

“While working remotely?!”

She nods.

“Damn.”

“Uh huh.”

Jess’ smile fades for a second.

“Just…in case he’s being serious…”

“He’s not. And I will be careful.”

Her smile returns, and she kisses the screen.

“Oh fuck!” she says.

“What?” Terry asks.

“I kissed the screen.”

“Ok…”

“Screens can carry the virus for days!”

“Well have you been washing your hands?”

A voice from another room on Jess’ side of the call speaks out.

“Did someone say they kissed a cellphone screen?”

“No mom!” Jess says in the direction of the closed door at the far end of her apartment.

“Fuck!” she says back to Terry.

“You’ll be fine, I love-”

She hangs up.

—

“This will be so exciting!” Brendan says.

He and Terry walk down the concourse at Philadelphia International Airport. Through the glass above them they see lines of people crowded together at the Arrivals terminal, going through hours of temperature checks before being allowed into baggage claim. In departures, almost no one is in line at the ticket counter. But anyone who is even within the vicinity of the pair watches them pass with astonishment.

“…sure it will,” Terry says, smiling at the people who are staring.

“In-flight movies, those little stroopwafel snacks. This is going to be amazing trip!” Brendan says, spotting a United counter.

“They don’t serve stroopwafels on United flights.”

“Yes they do.”

“You’re thinking Lufthansa,” Terry says.

“I promise you, it’s United. Trust me on this.”

A husband and wife almost stop in their tracks on their way to the security lines to stare at Brendan.

“Lufthansa has those little mixed pretzel — “

“-Brendan is there a reason you had to dress like that?”

“Like what? Like someone who values safety?”

The sound of Brendan’s rubber boots clopping down the concourse echoes off the high ceilings. Most of his face is hidden behind a military-style respirator. He’s wearing a white lab coat with a hazard symbol emblazoned on the chest and elbow-length rubber gloves.

“You look like you’re about to reanimate the corpse of a loved one with devastating consequences,” Terry says as they come up to the desk agent.

“Two tickets for the next flight to Los Angeles please!” Brendan says.

“Sorry, no more flights to the West Coast,” the agent says.

“What? Really?”

She points up towards the departures board.

In quick succession, the flights to San Diego, Seattle, San Francisco and Los Angeles are marked “Cancelled”.

“For quarantine reasons we’re making sure there’s as little travel west as possible,” the desk agent says.

“Oh no. We can’t do the horrible thing you were planning…” Terry says, flatly, under his breath.

“Yes we can, and it’s not horrible!” Brendan says.

The desk agent looks Brendan up and down.

“You look like a broke Bane,” she says.

—

Brendan drops his credit card on the Amtrak counter and slides it towards the agent.

“Two train tickets to Los Angeles please!” Brendan says.

The desk agent points to the Amtrak departure board. All west bound trains are cancelled.

“Oh no, another mode of transportation we can’t use to do the horrible thing you’re planning,” Terry says.

“Shut up!” Brendan says.

“You look like a default character from Fallout 4,” the desk agent says.

—

Brendan drops his credit card on the counter and slides it towards the agent.

“Two Greyhound bus tickets to Los Angeles please!” Brendan says, with great reluctance.

The desk agent points up to the departure board, which is cracked, and hanging askew from a single bolt in the ceiling. All westbound buses are canceled, except for one headed to Sacramento.

“Sacramento is close enough!” Brendan says with excitement, before turning to Terry.

“You see Terry? Things are finally looking up for us!”

Terry stares across the bus terminal to the far corner of the building with a look of horror.

“…Brendan…I can’t be sure but I think there are two toddlers over there fighting each other with brass knuckles… and people are placing bets on who they think the winner will be…”

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry, the Sacramento bound bus has been canceled,” the desk agent says.

“What? Why!?”

The desk agent points out the window. A bus rolls into the arrivals bay with the Philadelphia to Sacramento route on its front banner.

The bus is on fire.

Rather than stopping, it plows through a row of newspaper kiosks and crashes into the side of the building next door. Calmly, as if they have done it a thousand times, the passengers disembark. After the bus driver helps the last person off the bus, takes his belongings from his seat, and steps onto the sidewalk, the bus explodes, sending flaming pieces of metal across the parking lot.

Brendan and Terry are frozen in place watching the flames rise, while the desk agent looks Brendan up and down.

“You look like -”

“-like what?” Brendan says, turning quickly towards the desk agent, “a knockoff mad scientist? A shitty Resident Evil villain? Dumb Walter White?!”

The desk agent shakes his head.

“I was going to say you look like him,” the desk agent says, pointing to a nearby bench.

A man in his fifties is sitting there, in a tattered lab coat, with about the same look as Brendan. His eyes are wild, and as he looks at Brendan and Terry, they feel fear like they never have before.

“I was a doctor with a wife and kids before I took Greyhound! Nice outfit kid! Looks like someone values safety!!!” the man screams, before letting out a cackling laugh that fills the station.

A cheer goes up from the corner of the building, as one of the two toddlers presumably wins.

—

“One compact rental car, please!” Brendan says, sliding his card across the counter to the Hertz representative.

“Hey Brendan,” Terry says, bringing him away from the counter, “are you sure you can afford this?”

“Sure!” Brendan says.

“Brendan. It’s been a while since you lost the job. Renting a car for two weeks is a lot of money.”

“It will be fine! It’s all worth it for the greater good!”

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t have any compact cars available. Our only car left is from our Prestige Collection. It’s a Jaguar XF,” the rep says.

“Sounds good!” Brendan says, hesitation in his voice.

A receipt prints, the rental representative slides it across the counter towards Brendan.

“Your total comes to $2138,” the rep says.

Brendan nods, but does not move towards the counter.

“…Whenever you’re ready sir,” the rep says.

“You got it,” Brendan says.

Still, he does not move.

“Brendan!” Terry says.

He goes over and signs the receipt.

—

While the representative takes them to the car, walks Brendan around it to check for marks, explains to him that the car requires premium gas, which almost makes Brendan lose his footing, Terry is standing with his back towards them.

He types out a text message on his phone to Jess:

Looks like it’s not gonna be four days. More like two weeks driving cross country, LOL! Will try and call again soon baby…

Terry looks at this message.

“It has Apple carplay Terry! We can finally listen to all those Joe Rogan podcasts I’ve been telling you about!” Brendan says.

“Great…”

His thumb hovers over the send button. Instead, he deletes the message, types out another:

Love you baby, will call soon

“Alright,” Terry says, taking in a deep breath, “let’s go.”

—

They get into the car and pull out of the lot, Brendan insisting that he drive. About a block away from the lot, Brendan almost plows into the back of a truck because he can’t properly feel the gas pedal with the rubber boots he’s wearing. Terry calmly asks him to pull over, and takes over driving.

“Two weeks together. Man. Can you imagine how close we’re going to become as friends? Just the level of comfort that we’ll have with each other? I mean we’ve been friends for YEARS, but I don’t think we’ve ever actually taken a trip together. Weird right?” Brendan says.

“So weird,” Terry says.

There is a long silence in the car. On multiple occasions, Brendan begins to speak, then stops himself.

“Why don’t we listen to something?” Brendan says.

He switches to the podcast app and starts playing an episode:

“‘I just think that these liberals are blowing this way out of proportion. Even if I get Coronavirus, which I know all about because I’ve googled it twice, I’m basically inoculated from it because of all the bulletproof coffee I’ve been drinking *sound of a loud, possibly marijuana related cough*’”

“You know what, instead of Joe Rogan maybe we could just sit in silence…” Terry says.

Brendan turns it off.

After a few minutes, he turns to look at Terry.

“Do you ever get worried that people close to you will get it?” Brendan asks.

Terry shrugs.

“Sort of. I’m really only quarantining because it’s the right thing to do. My parents are pretty young and my grandparents are gone, so I don’t worry about that too much.”

Brendan nods, turns to look out the window.

“Yeah…me neither…:” he says.

They make the exit onto 76. Their GPS tells them they have 45 hours left of driving. Terry takes in a deep breath.

End of Part One

[trvelyans-archive]

unexpected

a commission for @varricttethras of his oc kadan and varric !!! thank you so much for commissioning me! i hope you enjoy <3

varric tethras/oc, fluff/romance, 3800 words !

---

The scarlet sun descends on the war-torn battleground, bathing the dry grass in an even richer shade of red than the blood splattered across it. Flowers that once blossomed lie crumpled on the ground, half-buried under the mud, ripped from their stems. An eerie silenced has settled over the area, yet it screams louder than any battle cry.

Only two people are left picking through the wreckage - one of them a ruggedly handsome dwarf, with fiery orange hair and a nose wrinkled from the stench of rotting corpses, the other a tall, towering woman with dark horns and ears adorned with small golden earrings, using the tip of her sword to fling up small clumps of dirt from the ground.

She is a well-built woman, with arms thicker than tree trunks and a chest that barely heaves or struggles for breath while her forehead and black hair are drenched with sweat. Despite her post-battle glow, a look of grim determination has settled on her face, creasing her gray skin.

The dwarf ambles over to her, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder. “How are you feeling, Nadak?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, looking up at the sky, trying to spot any crows circling the meadow. “How are you?”

“Better now that I know you’re safe,” he replies, pulling himself up onto a rock next to her until they’re equal height and reaching out for her. “How about a kiss?”

“For what?”

“Just because,” he says with a grin. “How about it?”

“Really, Varric?”

Varric shrugs. “Why not?”

“Why not what?” Kadan says. “What are you talking about?”

Varric’s eyes snap up from where he’s been staring into the murky brown water of his now-cold coffee to see her standing next to his table in the break room, arms crossed over her chest. “There’s a line-up out the door, and your break is over,” she says as she backs away from him, never taking her eyes away, and reaches over to grab a handful of sugar packets from the counter and fling them towards him. “You have three minutes before I get you fired.”

“You wouldn’t!” Varric says, feigning offense. “You couldn’t get through a day without me.”

“Yeah, I would,” she replies. “I’ll just put in my headphones and play a ‘bad jokes 10-hour loop video’ on YouTube until the end of my shift.”

“Hey.” He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. “My jokes are at least mediocre.”

“At most, maybe,” Kadan shoots back with a grin. “Now get your ass out of your seat, Tethras, or I’ll come over and get you out of it myself.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Varric asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“By throwing you across the room.” She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and kicks the door open with the sole of her combat boot, turning on her heel to push it the rest of the way. “And now you have two minutes to get your apron on and your ass back to the counter, so you might want to get started.”

“Fine, fine,” Varric calls out, “but – Aaand she’s already gone.”

He sighs and flips the cover of the notebook shut, scooping it up from the table and heading over to his locker, tossing it in amongst the others as well as the scattered pens and loose papers. Before he closes it, he grabs his café-branded visor and slips it on his head, heaving a sigh.

At least he has one good thing to get him through the day, he thinks to himself, even if he can’t manage to figure out this Maker-damned novel. Working with Kadan actually helps him stop stressing out about his writer’s block, if only for a little while, if only until he’s back home at the end of the day. Still, it’s something.

He’s been working here for a little over five years now, when his friend Hawke, the manager – by some miracle – hooked him up with a job after he graduated  and couldn’t find any other. It was as if all of the newspaper companies and publishing agents in the city heard he had he finished his degree and scampered into a hole in the floorboards like mice so that he couldn’t find them. Well, he’ll show them. He’s going to publish the greatest novel since…

He’s going to publish the greatest novel ever, maybe. If he gets around to starting it.

Or maybe he’ll work here for the rest of his life. It’s not always bad – in fact, there are a few things that make it pretty good. Like the free coffee, and the fact that sometimes Hawke lets him steal the occasional mound of whipped cream to toss back with a shot of whiskey in the break room on slow nights. Much like tonight.

The rest of the shift passes at the speed of a tired snail, broken up only by the occasionally round of banter, and by the time they finally flip over the ‘closed’ sign on the door, Varric’s more than ready to head out. He doesn’t go right away, though.

“Any plans for the night?” he asks, swinging his legs back and forth as he sits on top of the counter, watching Kadan wipe down the cash register.

She looks over her shoulder at him, squinting. “Why?” she responds. “Have you secretly been a templar this whole time? Aren’t you a little too short?

He rolls his eyes at her, leaning his head back against the tile wall. “Just making conversation,” he replies. “And I’m pretty sure there’s no height restrictions on being a templar. It might just be the whole being-a-dwarf thing in general.”

And to that she scoffs, though it sounds like it’s torn between that and a laugh. “Maybe it’s the blasphemous amount of chest hair you unleash upon Kirkwall whenever you wear anything besides your work uniform.”

“And that wasn’t even my choice,” he grumbles.

“We could put ‘Varric’s Surprise’ as an ingredient option on the menu.” Kadan tosses the towel over her shoulder and turns to face him.

“It’d be a 50-50 toss up between my chest hair and a shot of vodka,” he replies, jumping down from the counter and heading for the door to the break room.

“I’m sure black coffee would taste even better with a shot of vodka in it,” Kadan teases, elbowing him.

“It does,” he says. “I would know.”

He’s not looking at her, but he knows she rolls her eyes. He’d be surprised if she ever responded to the things he said or did with anything else. “Of course,” she mutters. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you’ve been stuck with me for years,” he says, “and because you love me, even if you won’t admit it.”

She playfully reaches out to smack his shoulder. “In your dreams,” she says as she grabs her clothes from her locker and heads towards the bathroom.

“I – what?”

But she’s already gone, and he shakes his head, laughing. How does she always manage to leave him hanging?

In a few minutes, they’re walking out of the café together. Kadan’s the one with the keys to lock the door for the night, so Varric idles by her motorcycle while he waits for her to finish up. The sky is dark, save for the small sliver of baby blue light quickly fading from the horizon, and he rubs at one of the metal plates of her bike, trying to decipher if it’s the darkness outside that refuses to show Varric his reflection or if it’s just that dirty.

She pulls a bag of seeds out of her pockets while she makes her way over to him. “Do you wanna take a ride?” she asks.

“Nah, I’m good,” he replies. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

It’s some loud floral print with bananas on it, unbuttoned halfway down her chest. “Thanks,” she says with a crooked grin, scattering seeds on the cement behind her. “I got it at a second-hand store. You have no idea of all the cool things you could find there…”

Varric reaches back to slide his phone from his back pocket. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” she responds, her grin growing smaller and smaller until it’s barely a smile, yet still happy, still pleased in its own right. “You know, Varric… I’ve realized something about life.”

“Yeah?”

She nods, backing towards her bike as a bird swoops down from the sky to peck at what she left behind for it. Once upon a time, Varric was surprised by this, but he isn’t anymore. He’s just annoyed that he has to worry about scaring the thing away. And, he supposes, a little impressed.

“Sometimes you find the best things when you’re not even looking for them.” She tucks the bag of seeds back into her pocket and swings one leg over her bike, reaching for her helmet. “I found this shirt on a rainy day a while ago when I didn’t even want to leave the house but you texted me and convinced me to get up and at least go to the store. You remember that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Varric replies, smiling, scratching at the stubble on his cheek.

“And I passed by my favourite store, and I thought, ‘hey, why not go in?’ And I did, and I found this, so… It just goes to show, you know?”

She has this sweet, wistful expression on her face, and it crumbles ever so slightly when Varric opens his mouth to reply. “You should be thanking me, then,” he informs her, trying to seem serious while he can feel a chuckle tickling the back of his throat. She waves her hand at him, laughing. “I’m the reason you got that shirt, so… Seems like I’m a pretty big part of your philosophy.”

A second or two passes. “Yeah.” Kadan tilts her head at him and squints a little as if she’s trying to figure something out. “Seems like it.”

Before he can say anything else, she slides her helmet over her head, covering it in a sturdy layer of dense plastic so he can’t see anything but her horns sticking out through two holes in the top. “See you tomorrow?” she says.

“See you tomorrow,” Varric replies, saluting towards her as she starts her bike and, eventually, drives away, out of the parking lot and onto the street where she disappears around the corner of the building.

When he’s sure she’s out of eyesight, he wipes his forehead on the back of his hand. Why is he so sweaty? And why did that conversation feel so damn intimate?

Maker. He needs a drink when he gets home. Or maybe four. Maybe a mug of coffee with a shot in it so he can write this novel instead of thinking about other things that are somehow more confusing.

When he wakes up the next morning, life continues the same as it always has. If he’s not working, Varric’s desperately trying to put down something for his novel or, if he can’t do that, trolling job postings online to see if there’s anything he’s qualified for. Certainly, he should be – he didn’t get a business degree his first time at school for nothing – but there’s nothing. Nothing right now, at least. He tells himself to hold out hope that there will be something in a few days, a few weeks, a few months. But he’s tired of waiting for good things to come around.

Still, like he’s said, things aren’t all bad.

After a few weeks he musters up the courage to take Kadan out to a bar after work – just as friends, of course, he clarifies, to which she heartily agrees. They play pool and get drunk and he’s convinced they even sing karaoke at one point, but he doesn’t really remember the next morning. What he does remember is that he’s going to be late for work, and that’s only because Kadan sends him a text to remind him, along with an embarrassing amount of smiley face emojis and a few pictures he doesn’t remember being taken.

He manages to make it into the café just before his shift starts.

“The man of the hour,” Hawke says as she moves around the counter to greet him. “Kadan told me about your little adventure last night. Well, she didn’t tell me –“ Hawke pulls out her phone – “she just sent me a bunch of pictures.”

“Leave me alone, Hawke,” Varric grumbles, heading for the back room with his notebook under one arm and his uniform in the other before Hawke can pull up any of the pictures of him with his tongue out or him with beer sloshed all over his chest.

“Hey, you can’t talk to your boss like that!” she protests with a smile.

“Just did!” Varric calls over to her as he shoulders the back room door open.

Kadan’s sitting at one of the tables nursing a coffee, and when she sees Varric, she lets out a low whistle. Much to his annoyance, she still looks great. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really,” he responds. “You?”

“A little,” she says. “Next time we do that, we should just… go back to either of our places to make sure the other one doesn’t throw up in their sleep and drown in their own vomit.”

Varric laughs, pulling his locker open and tossing his phone and his notebook inside.

“Sounds like a plan,” he replies. “Though I don’t suspect I’ll be doing that again any time soon. You have too much blackmail material on me as it is.”

“Good point.” Kadan slides out of her seat and hip checks Varric as she passes by. “You have two minutes ‘till your shift starts, Tethras. You don’t want to make the manager mad.”

“Believe me, Kadan,” he says, turning his head to watch as she stops in the doorway, “I know.”

Kadan winks at him before leaving.

He probably should have called in sick today, but what would have been the point in that? He needs money for rent anyway, and he wanted to see Kadan. He can’t help it. She cheers him up when he’s at his  grumpiest – well, most of the time, anyway, and when he’s too grumpy to be saved he at least knows she’ll put up with him through it. And she makes him laugh. And she holds a joke better than any of his other friends, so he can’t not appreciate her because of that.

The morning rush is quieter than normal – it’s raining, so most of their usual customers are probably opting to go straight to work, which means the coffee shop is dead safe for the occasionally straggler or university student. By the time lunch rolls around, Varric’s only made seven or eight coffees, and he burns out the rest of his coffee-making energy on his own, topped with butterscotch chips and whipped cream and all the disgusting shit he can think of that’ll hopefully keep him awake and alert until he can go home. If only he had some alcohol to pour into it….

On his break, he stirs the disgusting beige mush with a coffee stirrer in the break room, pouring over his notebook, staring at the lined pages and daring them to fill up with words on his own. He has the ideas – he just doesn’t know how to write them out. At least he has a couple of characters to work with. That makes things a little easier.

But just a little easier, like having a paddle to row across the ocean with when there’s already a leak in your boat.

He picks up his pen and taps it against his lips, mulling over what the first line can be, and instead opts to draw a crude cartoon picture of Hawke before the door to the break room slams open.

“Varric!” Kadan whines. “Your break is over! I’m hungry!”

“Okay, okay!” Varric throws his hands in the air and stands up, grabbing his coffee on the way out. “I’m going, I’m going!”

“Good,” Kadan says, crossing her arms over her chest, watching him drag himself back out to the counter. “The line-up of eighteen salesmen are waiting impatiently for their coffees.”

Varric’s nose wrinkles, and he sighs. “I hate you,” he mumbles.

“No,” she replies, “You know you love me.”

He can barely give her the finger before the door slams shut.

For some reason, the more and more coffee he drinks, the more and more he just wants to go home. He’s half convinced he should ask Hawke if he can leave early, but she’s eating a sandwich by the window and yelling into the phone at her brother and he doesn’t think that conversation would go over very well. His forehead pounds with a heavy headache, and he stares at the clock on the wall for the rest of his shift, hoping that, if he does, it might make it go a little faster.

He’s cleaning up the counter at the end of the night after Hawke closed up shop and said goodnight when Kadan slowly approaches, arms behind her back.

“So,” she begins. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Varric sighs. “Why not.”

“Are you… actually in love with me?”

His first response is to laugh, and he hopes it’s enough to hide the fact that his throat suddenly feels like it’s closing up. “What are you talking about?”

There’s a moment of silence as Kadan pulls whatever it is she has behind her back out and drops it on the counter he’s cleaning. It’s his notebook.

“Hey!” he protests, throwing his towel down and grabbing the book. “That’s private!”

“You left it on the table in the break room!” Kadan retorts haughtily. “I looked inside to see whose it was!”

Fuck. He doesn’t remember ever putting it back in his locker after his break. She’s definitely telling the truth.

“Well… so?” he says. “How does that relate to you asking me if I love you or… or s-something?”

She snatches it out of his hand, unbothered by his strangled noise of protest, and flips it open, scanning the pages with scribbles on them until she finds what she wants.

“There,” she says, pointing. “The main character’s girlfriend is a qunari named Nadak.”

“And?”

“Varric!”

She’s right again, unfortunately. Damn it. He hadn’t even realized until now. He hadn’t realized many things, it seems, because his heart is hammering in his chest and his palms are suddenly very sweaty and fuck, why is this conversation scaring him so bad?

“Okay, well… maybe it’s based off of you, but –“

“Varric.”

Her frustration fades into something smaller, sadder, and he reaches out for her. “Okay, maybe I – I don’t know, Kadan, maybe I have feelings for you. I haven’t really thought about it. I haven’t thought about much besides my novel lately…”

“So you don’t know?”

“No,” he answers. “No, I guess I do. I’ve just been trying to ignore it because – well, shit, I don’t know, Kadan. I kind of just assumed you always thought of me as a friend…”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, but –“

In one movement, Kadan’s picked him up under the armpits and sat him on the counter so that the cash register is uncomfortably digging into his back, and before Varric even has a chance to process what’s happening, she’s kissing him. She tastes faintly like peanut butter and chocolate and Varric freezes in place, not sure what he’s supposed do. Does he kiss her back? Does he touch her? Does she want him to?

When she pulls away, her eyes are closed for a second, and then her eyebrows furrow together. “Sorry,” she says quietly, continuing not to look at him. “I should’ve asked first –“

“Yeah, I just finished cleaning this counter, so –“

She opens her eyes and smacks his leg and he laughs.

“So, the feeling’s mutual, I guess?”

“Yeah,” Kadan replies. “I guess so.”

“You know, I heard somewhere that it’s pretty sexy to make out in a closet at work if you’re trying to avoid being seen by your boss,” Varric says, sliding off the counter onto the floor.

“Hawke left.”

“Did you ignore the part where I said it’s sexy? Because –“

As always, she does something to cut him off before he can finish, but he has to admit that her dragging him into the break room isn’t as annoying as the other times have been.

She fumbles with the keys to the janitor’s closet while he stands behind her impatiently, and she pushes him in the second it’s open. And then she’s kissing him again, cupping his face with one hand and closing the door behind them with the other, and this time, he kisses her back, because he can, and he wants to, and there’s nothing that can go wrong with this now.

Their visors bump up against each other and he laughs, reaching up to tug both of them off and toss them on the ground at his feet.

He has to angle his head a little bit to kiss her, and yet for some reason it doesn’t feel as awkward or as unusual as he thought it would. Of course, it helps that she lets him tug her down by the collar of her shirt as he works with her buttons, trying to focus on kissing her even though her clothes are providing to be more than a distraction. He huffs, pulling away, frowning as he works.

Kadan clears her throat. “Maybe we should –“

There’s a loud noise outside in the main part of the building, too loud not to be made by a person. They both turn to look at the door, frowning, Varric’s hands still on Kadan’s shirt, her hands still on his neck.

“What was that?” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” Kadan replies, “but –“

Suddenly, the door of the closet swings open, and Hawke’s standing there with her hands on her hips and her lips pursed, but the second she sees that someone is inside she lets out a horrific scream.

“Maker!” Varric says, startled, jumping away from Kadan. “Are you trying to wake up everyone in the neighbourhood, Hawke?”

“What are you doing?” she asks incredulously.

“Kissing,” Kadan chirps. “Why?”

“Maker…” Hawke rubs a weary hand over her face. “I mean, I’m happy for you. Watching the two of you flirt for the past two years with nothing coming of it has been torture.” Varric feels his cheeks beginning to burn, and he scrubs his hand over his face to try and hide it. “But also… don’t make out at work, maybe! And don’t scare the shit out of me like that!”

“Sounds good!” Varric says quickly, taking Kadan’s hair and pushing past Hawke. “Let’s get going, Kadan. I have some work on my novel to do, anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he answers. “I don’t know where it came from, but I’m feeling inspired all of a sudden…”

“Well, I think you can probably thank me for that,” Kadan teases.

Varric laughs, drawing her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “Yeah… I think so, too.”