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staticscreenwriting · 5 years ago

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12 Days of Christmas - [Day 12]

A/N: Day number 12 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. It’s finally up. Sorry it took so long. I’ve finally uploaded all my entires. Masterpost to follow soon if you guys want one.

Prompt: Fake dating., kinda

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Living on your own is hard. It’s rushing from one job to another trying to make just enough money to pay your rent and also put food on the table. It’s being stuck in a perpetual state of weariness. And yet it’s — liberating.

Billy drags himself up the steps to his apartment, the effort and exhaustion of today’s work settling deep in his bones. For a moment he wonders what life would be like had he stayed in Hawkins. Had he done as his dad wanted and followed in his footsteps working as a security guard. A “manly” job as Neil had described it then. A job worthy of a Hargrove man.

He wonders if he’d be married by now, to a woman with no backbone. If he’d treat her the way Neil treats Susan — the way he treated his mom.

He wonders and wonders but he will never know for certain because he didn’t stay. He got away. Packed his shit and bolted the moment they placed that diploma in his hands. Everything that’s left of Billy Hargrove in Hawkins, is the memories of those who knew him and a head full of What-ifs.

That is not a future he will ever know and he is grateful for that. But even so, the California from his childhood, all golden glow and soft touches, is not the one he’s come back to. This California is void of childhood nostalgia and dripping with the unpleasant truth of the real life — a tiny apartment with leaking pipes and the fact that he has to work two jobs to pay the rent for said apartment on time.

Everything’s better than Hawkins though. Everything is better than whatever future he would’ve lived through there.

He walks past the doors of apartments 1B, 2B and 3B. All of them painted the same shade of firetruck red. Paint chipping off of each door just the same. There’s a small Christmas wreath dangling from 2B’s door and a set of multicolored lights taped up around 3B’s windows, reminding him that the holidays are fast approaching.

It’s not a time he’s particularly fond of, never was really, not since he was very little. There’s only so much holiday cheer one can muster up when your parents are always fighting, often getting physical. Then mom left and before Susan came around they didn’t celebrate Christmas at all anymore. Sometimes Billy wonders if the holidays made Neil extra bitter. If it served as a reminder of what should be and what he fucked up — a happy family celebrating together.

Then Susan and Max moved in and so did Christmas. Only it never felt like Billy was a real part of it. Always on the outside looking in, pushed to the sidelines. Maybe had they showed up earlier things could’ve been different. But by then he was so bitter already, filled with so much fury, it didn’t make a difference anymore.

He passes by 3B, music sounding softly from inside. Even though they are neighbours, Billy only knows the inhabitant of said apartment by the number of their place. It’s an older guy who sometimes gets visits from his grandparents and has a mean little anklebiter for a dog. That’s all he knows. In fact, he doesn’t know a whole lot about any of his neighbours. Back in Hawkins, everyone knew everyone’s business. Whether it was important or not, scandalous or not. People cared and people talked.

Not here. It’s live and let live. It’s fight your own fights, battle your own demons. Nothing more than a “hello” in passing shared between neighbours.

Well all except one. 5B isn’t 5B anymore. 5B is (Y/N) and (Y/N) is — different. She doesn’t give a shit about the anonymity the others seem to be so fond of. (Y/N) is all soft smiles and cheery “hellos” and invitations to movie nights and microwave popcorn.

(Y/N) is his age, barely 19. She’s a mom too. Billy’s never particularly cared for babies, but even he can admit that Rosie is an adorable little girl. She’s got big bright eyes always taking in everything around her with a sense of wonder than only kids possess. And she always seems happy to see him, always smiling with her one single tooth. Even though he’s never held her or played with her or anything, she seems to like him anyway. And Billy appreciates that even if it comes from a 1 year old.

He’s just about to put the key into his lock, when the door next to him, the door to 5B, swings open.

(Y/N) looks stressed, exhausted. She always does. Billy thinks it probably comes with being a young single mom who works a full time job. Her hair’s a mess, all over the place, a sweater is hanging loosely off of her shoulder and her eyes look tired. So deeply tired. And yet, when she looks up at him there’s a spark there. She always has a certain warmth about her when she talks to Billy. He thinks it’s one of those special qualities that most mothers seem to possess.

“ Hey you. “ she exclaims with a smile. Rosie who’s propped up on her hip starts to wiggle, flopping her arms up and down in her excitement as she catches sight of Billy.

“ Hey yourself. “ Billy replies “ and hello to you miss Rosie. “ He takes her tiny hand in his. It’s so small he’s almost afraid of breaking it. There’s a trust she puts in him, at her 1 year of age, that makes him feel warm inside. If this tiny innocent girl thinks he’s good guy, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.

“ Rough day ? “ (Y/N) asks, her eyes wandering up and down his frame. He wants to tell her that yes, he had a rough day. That work at the auto repair shop was more than slow and that the few surf students he had today were rich assholes who only wanted to learn it for the novelty of it and not for the actual sport itself. He doesn’t say that though, because really she has it way harder. He hears her leave her apartment every morning at 4:30 to drop Rosie off at a babysitter and start her work at the local diner. Then when she comes home she has to do all the chores at home and care for her child. She’s a real trouper. Compared to her life, his does not seem so hard at all.

So he shrugs, curls bouncing with the motion “ It was alright. Where are you girls off to ? “

“ Well, “ she smiles that little smile she does when she’s particularly proud of something. It’s kinda ridiculous, Billy thinks, that he’s so smitten over her he can already differentiate between the different smiles she puts on.

“ Diner had a pretty big turnup today and I got a pretty big tip. So because miss Rosie here was being extra good today I promised her we’d get some ice cream and go to the beach. “

Rosie smiles her big baby smile, a little dribble going down her chin. She’s a real sunshine. He hardly ever hears her cry and when she does, he hears (Y/N) sing to her through the paper thin walls connecting his apartment to hers. And only a moment later the cries turn to whimpers then sighs then vanish all together. But she continues singing. And sometimes that’s the melody guiding him into a good night’s sleep.

“ I’d ask you if you want to join us but you look like all you want right now is some sleep ? “ (Y/N) says, raising her eyebrow in question.

Really, until a few minutes ago that was all he wanted. To go to bed and forget about today and hope that tomorrow will be better. Though now things have shifted. He knows he shouldn’t be getting into this. He knows getting attached is wrong. She has her own mess to deal with and adding an emotionally scarred guy with daddy and mommy issues into the mix is probably the last thing she needs. It’s not like he’s asking anything more of her than a friendship though. This is just two neighbours hanging out. Having ice cream. Taking a stroll on the beach.

That’s all it is. Even if she makes his heart do weird fluttery things in his chest. Even if she’s all he dreams about when he falls asleep to her singing. Even if he wonders what her lips taste like.

It’s just friends.

“ You know what ? That sounds real good. “

And then she smiles again and he wonders if this is what every friendship feels like.

The setting sun casts the beach in hues of golds and pinks and reds. (Y/N) and Billy sit side by side in the still warm sand. Rosie, ice cream smeared around her lips, leans her head against her mother’s shoulder, eyes closed from the long day she’s had.

“ She out ? “ Billy asks, letting his eyes linger on the sight of (Y/N) and Rosie cuddling as the setting sun illuminated them in a golden glow.

“ Like a light. “ she replies then lets her words being followed by a deep sigh. One that’s heavy with meaning. It seems that now that her daughter is asleep, she really lets herself feel the exhaustion of the day that’s been weighing on her shoulders until now.

“ You alright ? “ Billy asks. Growing up, Billy was always alone with his feelings. Whatever he was going through, he was going through it all by himself. When he left Hawkins, he made a promise to himself. To be better. To do better. And part of that, is showing people he cares about that he cares. That he’s there. Even if he can’t do anything other than listen.

“ I uh — not not really. I don’t wanna annoy you with my stupid problems though. You got enough on your plate as it is. “

“ Ah, lay it on me. I’m big boy I can take it. “

“ Are you now ? “

“ Mmmhh. And I’m sure your problems aren’t stupid. “

(Y/N) lets out another sigh, shifts little Rosie closer to her chest and places a kiss on her head. Billy can almost see the thoughts running through her head, trying to assemble themselves in a way that makes sense.

“ So usually at Christmas I go and see my mom but this year she has decided to come visit us. “

“ You and your mom don’t have a good relationship ? “ Billy wonders, knowing he’s not seen anyone that could potentially be (Y/N) mother come or go anytime since he’s moved into his apartment.

“ I mean, she’s my mom and I love her she’s just — a bit judgemental. I know it comes from a good place and that she just wants the best for me but the thought of her coming to my place and listing all the things that I’m doing wrong in her eyes is uh — it’s a lot. “

It’s baffling to him that anyone, especially her own mother, could find anything wrong with the way (Y/N) navigates her life. To Billy she’s a damn superhero.

“ What could she possibly have to judge ? You have a stable job, your own place. You raise your kid by yourself and you seem to be doing pretty good at that. What’s there for her not to like ? “

(Y/N) raises an eyebrow at him, as if it’s obvious. “ I’m a single mother at 19. That’s a start there. “

“ But you’re a good mother. “

She shrugs “ I hope I am but it doesn’t matter to my mom. It matters that Rosie was born out of wedlock. It marries that I dumped her dad after he cheated on me. It matters that I am alone and apparently Rosie doesn’t have a strong male parental figure to look up to which, according to my dear mother, will hinder her future development and makes her develop unhealthy relationships with men. “

“ Jesus. “

“ Yup. That’s my mom for you. I think she kind of resents the fact that I dumped Adam. Think she would’ve wanted me to forgive him everything he did to me and stay with him for the sake of a seemingly unbroken family. “

Billy wonders often, if such a thing even exists. A family that’s not broken, one without skeletons, one that smiles and laughs and loves even when nobody's watching. And if it does, he wonders if it’s the people bound together by blood or if the most happy families are those thrown together by circumstance. Those that find each other in the dark.

“ I mean, if she needs a strong male role model you can always knock on my door. I am pretty strong if I dare say so. “ Billy jokes and raises an arm to flex is muscles in mock bragging.

“ I’ll keep it in mind, though I don’t think that’s something my mom wants to hear. You’re not my boyfriend so It doesn’t count in her books. “

His heart drops at that thought. And then, just a second later, an idea sparks. Like a firework on the fourth of july it starts with the sizzle of a fuse and then explodes with all the possibilities. It’s a bad idea. He has to remind himself of that. It’s a horrible idea. One that’s only gonna end up in a mess.

Don’t say it.

Don’t —

“ What if I was ? “

“ Huh ? “

“ What if I was your boyfriend. Just for — just for show. Maybe your mom would go a bit easier on you. We could pretend for the time she’s here. “

The minutes when she doesn’t reply, just looks at him and considers, seem to drag on like hours and hours and years and decades. And with every second Billy’s hands grow more clammy, his heart more weary, his breath more shallow.

“ You’d do that ? “

He lets out breathy laugh. If only she knew what he’d do for them both. “ Sure. “

She places a soft kiss on his cheek. He knows how her lips feel now. He wants so badly to know how they taste. But it’s not a good idea. It’s not a good time. It’s — fake, Billy. He has to remind himself that what they are doing is just playing pretend and once Christmas is over and her mom is gone, all they will be is friends. And that’s enough. It needs to be. Having a friend in her and in Rosie, that’s not only enough, that’s plenty. That’s grand.

“ Okay, let’s do it ! We should make a plan though. “

“ A plan ? “

“ Yeah like, where we met. How long we’ve been together. You know that kinds stuff. Have our stories match. “

“ Alright, when do you wanna do this ? “

“ You up for a movie night? “

“ Tonight ? “

“ Yup. I even have some cold beers in the fridge and microwave popcorn in my cupboard.“

“ Well if there’s beer and popcorn — “

“ Great, let's go ! “

It’s not the booze and the snacks that draw him in though. It’s her smile. Her enthusiasm. Her.

It’s Christmas day, the lights are twinkling in the window, the tree is set up, there’s a turkey in the oven and (Y/N), well she’s a full on mess.

Billy is sitting by the dining table, Rosie next to him in her high seat munching away on some spongy baby cookies. Big bright eyes trained on her mother who nervously paces around the living room.

“ Let’s go through it one last time. We met when you moved in and I asked you to take a look at my broken AC unit. “

“ Mmh. “

“ Then we hung out whenever something was broken and you fixed it for me. Makes you seem reliable and handy. “

“ I am reliable and uh — pretty good with my hands. “ Billy says and smirks.

(Y/N) raises her brow.

“ I am ! I work as a mechanic you know. “

“ Not what the look was about but sure. So we’ve been properly dating for 4 months now. Rosie loves you, which isn’t even a lie. “

Billy’s heart soars at that. Rosie really does seem to adore him. Always smiling and demanding for him to hold her. Billy’s spent quite some time at their place lately, puzzling together a life for him and (Y/N) that would satisfy her mother’s expectation. A life hat makes him wish it could ever become reality.

“ So we decided Christmas was a good time for her to meet you. “

“ Yup. “

“ Jesus Christ, I’m gonna faint. “ (Y/N) groans, fingers nervously combing through her hair. Billy gets up, places a kiss on Rosies head then walks over towards (Y/N).

Gently he takes her by her shoulders and turns her to face him. There’s a fear in her eyes he’s never seen before. A vulnerability almost palpable in the air. She’s exuding anxiety and he knows what it feels like. It’s the constant state he was living in when still in Hawkins. He wishes so badly that he could take it from her. Load it onto himself and rid her of it all. Thought life is no magical fairytale.

“ (Y/N) calm down. We got this, okay ? “

She regards him for a second, eyes drowning in his, as if she’s looking straight into his soul, his heart.

“ You think ? “

“ I know! Do you trust me ? “

Without hesitation she nods, sending his heart into overdrive.

“ Good ! Now uh — there’s something else we should figure out. “

“ What’s that ? “

“ Do we hold hands ? Do we — kiss ? “

“ I guess uh — I guess we should, right ? To make is seem real ? “

“ If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. “

“ Oh no. No we’re friends, right ? “

“ Right. “

“ So it shouldn’t be awkward, right ? “

Wrong. It’s very awkward. Not because he doesn’t wanna kiss her. Exactly the opposite actually.

“ Right. Do you wanna try it right now? Get the first one over with so we don’t look awkward in front of your mom ?”

“ That sounds like a good idea. “

It’s not and Billy is well aware of this. Once he finds out what her lips taste like, the ones he wanted to kiss since he first laid eyes on her, he won't be able to forget it.

But Billy’s never been known for making smart decisions. So he softly pulls her closer by her waist, gently cradles her face in one of his hands and nuzzles his nose against hers.

There’s absolutely nothing awkward about this, in fact, he’s never felt like this ever before. His heart is beating faster, faster, faster. He wants her to take the last step. Give her the power over this. Even if it’s just pretending. Even if it’s just for today. She needs to be in charge of it. This is all for her. Even if it breaks his heart to think about this ending.

It’s hesitant at first, he almost doesn’t feel it until she pushed on a little harder. Her lips are soft and smooth and warm. She tastes like — well (Y/N). There’s no fireworks or butterflies but the true and honest realisation that he is in love with this girl. And that’s the goddamn mess he wanted to avoid.

She kisses him once, twice, three times. To make it realistic, right ? To make it believable. Billy gets absolutely lost in it, in her lips on his, in her hands in his hair — in her.

That’s until the doorbell rings.

Her mom seems nice enough, reserved sure, but that was expected. She talks a lot, mostly small talk. About Christmas and the weather and how nice California is. She asks about Billy’s family, talks about hers. She tells him stuff about family members (Y/N) has never even mentioned before and yet her mother deems it appropriate to air their dirty laundry to Billy.

She starts a conversation about Rosie, which is the one topic Billy feels confident talking about. Though she’s not his, he’s proud of her. She’s one of the few good things he has in his life right now and talking about her, being granted this little piece of happiness and feeling like he is involved there, part of something, it means more than he will ever be able to express.

Rosie is a real gem as well. Constantly asking to be held, not by her mother or grandmother but by Billy. It’s as if she knows they’re trying to sell something here. Trying to create a vision of something, the image of a happy little family or 3.

The idea of something Billy never had but so desperately wants. The one thing that always has been missing.

“ Uh, she adores him. Wants to be in his arms all the time.“ (Y/N) tells her mother as she hands her a glass of wine. Rosie is cuddled into Billy’s arms as if she always belonged right there.

“ I can see that, those two are two peas in a pot huh ? “

“ Totally. Makes me a bit jealous sometimes, those two “ (Y/N) jokes, a smile gracing her lips. A real one. A radiant one.

“ Is that so ? “ Billy asks. It feels like every boundary they set, every rule they put in place, is suddenly made of watercolor, spreading and smudging and bleeding into one another. The lines are slowly but surely starting to blur in his mind and he needs to remind himself that this is just pretend. They’re friends. This is fake. This is fake.

“ Sure is, babe “ she winks then returns to the kitchen to get the turkey out of the oven.

It’s fake, right ?!

The small talk ceases as they enjoy the food. God, not only is she perfect in itself, she’s also an amazing cook. If it is possible, Billy falls even more in love with her. If only this didn’t have to end.

“ So Billy, you and my daughter, huh. Let me tell you when she told me about you I wasn’t sure what to think. “ (Y/N)’s mother starts talking again once the dinner is devoured. She moves her finger along the rim of her wineglass like some cheesy villain from an action flick or a disney movie.

“ Okay. “ what does one say to something like that.

“ Mom. “

“ No, no let me finish. “

“ Mom, please. “ The anxiety is back in (Y/N)’s voice and in her eyes. Without thinking about it, Billy grabs her hand underneath the table. To his surprise, she squeezes back, doesn’t pull away. Maybe friends can do things like this without pretending. Maybe just for shared comfort.

“ I’m not gonna say anything bad, (Y/N). Don’t be silly. I think you two are — good for each other. Good for Rosie. “

“ You are ? “

“ Yes. Yes I really am. “

She squeezes his hand again. He hopes this one’s a good one, from excitement not anxiety.

“ I just wish you would trust me more. I wish you’d let me into your life. Tell me stuff. Not just when you two met but that romantic stuff that daughters talk to their moms about. Like when you knew you were in love with Billy. All that kind of stuff. “

“ I knew I was in love with her the first time I heard her sing. “

The word burst out of him like vomit. Like a tidal wave crashing against the shore with wrath and fury. It’s not a lie, in fact, it’s a truth he’s been holding onto for a while now. This might be more of a confession to himself than to anyone else.

(Y/N) looks at him with shock and surprise written all over her face. There’s a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her lips though it’s hardly noticeable and the confusion in her eyes makes Billy wonder if what he just said was the wrong thing.

“ I’ve never sang to you, babe. “

“ Not to me but to Rosie. I hear you singing to her through the walls. They’re paperthin. I fall asleep to you singing sometimes. “

Her eyes. God, her eyes. Everything good in the world is caught in her eyes. In the depth of them. The warmth of them. In the way they look at him as if she sees him. Completely. For all that he is and all that he ever wants to be.

She’s very good at pretending, he has to admit. It only makes it harder for him to remind himself that none of this is real. It’s all a game of pretend. It’s all fake.

“ You hear me sing to Rosie ? And you like it ? “

“ I love it. “

She kisses him then and it both mends and breaks his heart simultaneously.

“ Well I fell in love with Billy the moment he first held Rosie. “ (Y/N) tells this to her mother though her eyes never leave his.

Billy remember the first time he held Rosie, it wasn’t all that long ago. After they had decided on their little game of pretend. (Y/N) had asked him to keep an eye on her while she went to have a shower. So for a while Billy and Rosie just sat on the couch watching some weird kid tv show. That’s until Rosie decided to crawl up on his lap, then pull herself up to wrap her little arms around his neck.

He was hesitant then, to react, to do anything. Afraid of doing the wrong thing. She’s so small, so fragile. If anything happened to her — if he did one wrong move.

But as she started wobbling he couldn’t but hold onto her. Stop her from falling. Keep her steady. The way she rested in his arms then felt more right than anything in his life had ever felt. She looked up at him with her gorgeous eyes then, and she smiles her one-tooth smile. And it opened his heart in ways he had never known before.

“ You talked to her. You looked at her like she was the world and you told her stuff. Talked to her like you would to someone who understands what you’re talking about. She was hanging onto your every word. I knew I loved you then because you loved her. “

It hits him like a lightning flash straight to the heart. What he told Rosie then, was that he’d never held a baby before. That she was the first baby he ever cuddled. That Max had already been a child when they met the first time. He told her about Max and how sorry he was and that he missed her even though he’d never admit that to anyone else. But he knew then that Rosie wouldn’t judge because she didn’t understand. It felt good talking to someone about it even if that someone was a 1 year old.

“ I do “ Billy replies “ love her, I mean. “

“ I know. I think she knows too. “

He hopes she does. Wherever life takes them, he wants Rosie to know that for as long as they get together, he loved her and he loved her mom.

Later that night, Rosie asleep in her bed and (Y/N)’s mother on her way home, Billy and (Y/N) settle down on her couch.

A silence engulf them that is thick with words unspoken yet it’s not uncomfortable, not really. They both know, right then. They know that whatever game they had been playing wasn’t really a game at all. Maybe all of the pretending wasn’t for (Y/N)’s mother at all. Maybe the pretending was for themselves. Pretending like this was all fake. Like it meant nothing. Like they could ever go back to being friends.

Billy’s head rests on (Y/N) legs as she softly combs her fingers through his golden curls.

“ That went well huh ? “

“ I’d say so. “

Silence again. Then the clearing of a throat. A sigh.

“ Billy I — “

“ I meant it. “

“ Huh ? “

Billy closes his eyes, not able to look at her as the words assemble themselves on his tongue ready to be spoke. Too long have they been locked in his heart. It’s time he says them with all the truth and none of the pretending.

“ That I fell in love with you when I heard you sing. That I am in love with you. That I love Rosie. “

She stops her hand for a second. He can feel her breathing in deeply. Evaluating. Thinking. Wondering.

“ If you don’t feel the same that’s fine. I’m a big boy, we can be just friends and I’ll be fine with that. “

The she resumes the combing of her fingers through his hair. Gentle strokes, slight tugs. It feels wonderful. Heavenly.

“ I meant it too, you know. Every single word. “

Billy leans his head back to look up at her. They smile, both of them. He thinks this is his favorite of her smiles. The one she puts on when she’s in love. In love with him — holy shit.

Rosie’s small cries shake them out of their romantic bliss before (Y/N) gets up and hurries towards her room. A few moments she returns, the little girl cuddled tightly into her arms.

“ Look who wanted to join us. “

As Rosie lifts her head and catches sight of Billy she tiredly stretches her little arms out to him. Billy takes her from (Y/N), cuddling her into his chest while placing kisses on her head.

“ Hey little one. You wanted to hang out with mommy and me, huh ? Wanted to get some love too ? “

(Y/N) settles back down in her seat on the couch, hand going back to Billy’s head as Rosie rest softly on his chest. And as (Y/N) stars to quietly sing a song he’s heart through the wall so many times before, Billy thinks that maybe happy families can exist. This one right here, has never been happier. It’s small and puzzled together and they all come with messes that have to be dealt with and obstacles that have to be overcome. But it’s good. It’s so good.

And it’s his.

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove fanfics #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #12dayswriting

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aelysalthea · 5 years ago

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The Secret Lives of Neil Josten

Chapter 6: Aaron’s Observations

Winter still held Palmetto State tightly in its grasp as Katelyn's car pulled into the carpark of Fox Tower. Snow fell in soft flecks, veiling the air and melting moments after touching the ground. Dampness slicked the bitumen, and a thin coating of glossiness lathered the parking lot where the car drew to a stop.

The engine died with a soft putter. For a moment, Aaron simply sat. He stared up at the building he'd lived in for nearly three years, at the windows shuttered against the chill and doors tightly closed. Somehow, despite its familiarity, Fox Tower felt foreign. Different, external, and other to everything that Aaron had immersed himself in over Christmas. A dull ache in his chest murmured misgivings of returning to normalcy.

He hadn't seen his family in two weeks. Aaron wasn't sure if he was reluctant or itching to see their faces. There was little enough love lost between them, even if the volatility had waned in recent months, but...

"Hey. How're you holding up over there?"

Glancing sidelong, Aaron found himself smiling even before he noticed Katelyn was doing the same. Her own smile widened, and she offered him a hand over the gear stick between them. Her fingers tangling with his own immediately as he clasped them.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Just… yeah."

"It was nice to get away for a while. Feels weird to be coming back, right? But, like, weird in a good way."

"I suppose."

"That's such a non-answer, Aaron."

Aaron squeezed her hand, peering up at the building through her rapidly fogging windscreen. He could see Andrew's rooms from the parking lot. The curtains were still drawn, as much of an indication of his absence as the lack of a Maserati in the parking lot. "I guess I'm just…"

"Look, it might take a while," Katelyn said, speaking the words that she'd voiced mostly to herself several times that day already, "but we'll get through it. What's the worst that could happen?"

"You really want to hear the worst?"

Katelyn's puff of laughter had a pained edge to it. She knew. Of course she knew. "It's not like you haven't been apart before. And just because this time is a little different…"

Aaron shrugged, dropping his gaze to their hands. "I know. It wasn't even for that long." The summer break had been longer. Andrew's hospital admission the year before had been longer. This was nothing new except -

"He still hasn't messaged you?" Katelyn asked.

"Andrew's not one much for texting."

"But he didn't seem angry, right?" Katelyn jostled his hand slightly. "You said he didn't seem angry when you told him."

"It's practically impossible to tell when Andrew's actually angry unless he's winging a knife at you." Katelyn cringed and Aaron immediately regretting his words. "Sorry."

Katelyn shrugged, even as her wince struggled to fade. "It's fine. It's true."

"Unpleasant to bring up in casual conversation, though."

"Is this casual conversation?"

"I suppose not."

Katelyn sighed. Aaron felt her turn towards the tower herself. "Surely he expected it," she murmured, and Aaron suspected she was speaking her thoughts more than to him. She did that sometimes – talking aloud simply so he knew what she was feeling, though never of trivialities. He loved it about her, even if it was impossible for him to offer the same courtesy. It made life so much simpler for them both. "Surely he must know that we're practically – I mean, you were going to meet the family eventually."

"He wasn't angry," Aaron said, though even voicing such a thought aloud didn't wholly convince him. "He wasn't anything."

"Come on, Aaron," Katelyn said. "You practically announced we're engaged."

"So? If you have a problem with that now then –"

"We're not even engaged!"

Aaron shrugged casually, even if he couldn't hide that the itch in his belly was rapidly smothered by warmth as Katelyn dissolved into laughter. "Not yet."

"Aaron!"

"What? Are you objecting?"

"We're only twenty-one!"

"And your point?"

Katelyn only laughed. Leaning towards him, she hooked an arm around his neck and tugged him into a kiss. "You haven't actually proposed yet," she murmured against his lips.

"Neither have you."

"Is that a challenge?"

"What, a race to the finish line?"

"The starting line, I think you mean."

Aaron stole another kiss. There were few things that could make him happier than whispering words of a future with Katelyn. Twenty-one or not, unofficial or not, it was the best thing in his life right now. The best thing that he'd ever had. If nothing else, it provided motivation to keep seeing the psych with Andrew. Aaron would fix Andrew's problems with Katelyn as much as he goddamn could before Andrew could fuck it up.

Katelyn was resilient, and Aaron knew she loved him, but how much could she be expected to take? A knife to the throat next time? The very thought made him sick.

"Hey," Katelyn said, recalling his attention with another kiss. "Why're you getting depressed again?"

"You really have to ask that?"

Katelyn made a flat, unhappy sound. "Let's stop talking about this. We'll cross whatever bridge we come to when we get to it."

Aaron nodded. "Okay."

"I mean it, Aaron. Problems of later can be dealt with later."

He nodded again. She always made it seem so simple. So easy when nothing in Aaron's life, nothing about Andrew, had ever been simple. "Right," he said, as if he believed it. For a moment, he almost did.

"Come on," Katelyn said after a moment of comfortable silence. "Let's head up."

"Do we have to?"

"It's starting to get cold in here."

"Turn your car back on, then. We could just –"

"Aa-ron!" Katelyn laughed again, releasing him and reaching between the seats for her jacket. "Come on, let's go. It's nearly dinner time and I'm starving."

Aaron didn't really want to go, even with the quelling of the feelings in his belly. But when Katelyn climbed out of the car it was impossible not to follow after her.

That, and because he caught sight of the Maserati pulling into the parking lot.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Aaron nudged the car door closed with his shoulder. He spared Andrew's car only a cursory glance as he fell into step beside Katelyn and didn't slow as they made for the tower. Katelyn tucked her arm through his, huddling into his side and muttering curses against the cold under her breath.

"Hope Nadia's already in," she said. "She's more of a cold-body than me, even. She'd have turned the heat on already. Dinner at mine?"

Aaron didn't need to reply. It was a given, and he rarely ate in his own rooms these days anyway, despite Nicky's petulant insistence that they spend some 'quality time together'. Pulling his key-card out of his pocket as the approached the doors, Katelyn had already begun to voice thoughts of ordering delivery when the doors opened for them.

"It doesn't work," said a man that Aaron had only sporadically seen before, his head poking his head through the narrow crack. "Power's out."

"What?" Katelyn asked.

"Power's out," the man repeated. "Dunno how long for but all the electricity's down."

Katelyn tipped her head back with a groan. "Dammit. Has anyone called maintenance or something? The head office?"

The man shrugged. Stepping aside, he tugged the door open a little further for them. "Heaps of people. We're still waiting for someone to show up. But the lift's down, all the lights are out, and people are complaining about all their stuff going off in their fridges because…"

Aaron listened with half an ear as he followed Katelyn into the lobby. It was cluttered with people, bodies packed tightly together, and warmer than the absence of electricity suggested it should be. A quick scan found a handful of the younger Foxes, and Aaron nodded in brief acknowledgement before following Katelyn further into the room.

"… had a look at the meter box," the man who'd opened the door was saying to Katelyn, "but no one knows jack shit about the wiring."

"What, we don't have a single engineering student here?" Katelyn asked.

The man shrugged. "I know Josh does, and I'm fairly sure Tessa does too –"

"Let me guess. Still away?"

"You guessed it. Bryn had a bit of a poke at it, but I think he did more harm than good. It looks like a bit of a mess; even I can tell he tangled it up worse than it was."

"Jeez," Katelyn muttered, turning into Aaron as the man was distracted by someone bidding for his attention, "put a stadium of sports students in a blacked-out building and watch them fail epically."

Aaron made a wordless sound of agreement. He couldn't really care less but to admit it was a slight annoyance. Someone else's problem for someone else to fix. What was more annoying was the sheer number of people crammed into the lobby as though lingering on the doorstep would fix the problem rather than retreating to their independent rooms. It wasn't an excuse that the darkening evening would turn those rooms into gloomy closets; people shouldn't cluster themselves with such density, in Aaron's opinion. Not when they could make such incessant noise as that bouncing off walls and all but echoing up the stairwell

He was about to suggest a retreat to Katelyn when Nicky appeared at his side. "Hey," he said, flashing them both a smile. "Just got in. Amil said the power's out?"

Aaron shrugged again, his gaze already drawn to his brother two steps behind Nicky. Andrew didn't look his way, was attending to Neil at his side as Neil murmured low enough that his words couldn't be heard over the hubbub. Andrew didn't appear fazed by the clamour surrounding them, but he rarely did until push came to shove.

Aaron rather hoped he wasn't in his brother's vicinity when he started shoving.

"Fuck, of all the timing," Nicky said, raking a hand through his hair. "Seriously, where's campus police when you need it?"

"What would campus police do?" Aaron asked, dragging his attention towards Nicky instead.

"Fix the problem."

"It's a problem with the electricity though," Katelyn said.

"Yeah, but guys like that have a natural knack for fixing things. Pure-bred handymen."

"I think you're thinking of maintenance. We have those too, you know."

"Same-same."

"It's really not," Aaron said.

"Maybe we could ask Matt?" Nicky suggested.

"Matt?" Katelyn glanced towards Aaron. "Is he majoring in engineering or something?"

"No," Aaron said, rolling his eyes. "For some reason Nicky just thinks he's capable of that sort of thing."

"He fixes things pretty well," Nicky said. "Come on, even you have to admit that."

"He can't fix our coffee machine. It's still broken."

"That's an exception to the rule. He's a handyman too."

"What exactly is your criteria for handyman, then?" Katelyn asked far more innocently than Aaron could have pulled off.

Nicky opened his mouth to reply but cut himself off as he caught, distracted. "Hey, where're you two off to?"

Neil paused where he and Andrew had been making their way back towards the front doors. Aaron was fairly sure Andrew wouldn't have bothered if he hadn't. "The power's out," Neil said, as though stating the obvious as everyone else had was a necessary explanation.

"Are you two fucking off, then?" Nicky asked. "If you're getting dinner, I'm coming with you."

Neil shook his head. "No, we're –" he gestured vaguely towards the doors, "going to try and fix it."

Nicky blinked blankly, and Aaron could only echo the unspoken sentiment. "You're what?"

"Fixing it."

"You can fix it? Because Andrew couldn't so – Neil, are you a species of handyman?"

Neil frowned. He shared a glance with Andrew before turning back to Nicky. "I don't know if I can do it but it's worth trying." Then, without another word, he fell back into step with Andrew and they quickly disappeared through the doors.

"Well, blow me down," Nicky said. "I never knew that."

"Neil doesn't do engineering, does he?" Katelyn asked.

"As far as I'm aware?" Nicky shook his head. "But then again, he's always pulling random stuff like that out of his arse. It never fails to surprise me."

"He hasn't even fixed anything," Aaron muttered.

"Yet," Nicky said. "Emphasis on the yet. I'm half convinced Neil's a secret genius in about a dozen different areas and we just don't know about it."

Aaron didn't reply. What could he possibly have to say to something like that? He didn't like Neil – didn't like him to the point of severe dislike much of the time – and it wasn't a secret from the rest of the team. Even without the relationship Neil had with Andrew and the issues it raised, Neil rubbed Aaron the wrong way. He would tolerate him, even follow his instruction on the court because, in spite of his modest years of participation in exy, he was capable. Even one who hated Neil would have to admit that much.

But that didn't mean Aaron had to like him. It certainly didn't mean he had to gush and grow starry eyed over the very realistic possibility that Neil knew which switch was the right one to flick or some such bullshit. Never mind that Aaron didn't know himself; it wasn't like it was exceptional.

Besides, Neil was an asshole. What further reasons did Aaron need?

Folding his arms, Aaron turned from Nicky as Nicky caught Katelyn up in conversation – something about music and a new iPod he'd purchased for someone as a Christmas gift – and turned his regard upon the room instead. The lobby was rapidly darkening, faces becoming obscured, and there was a current of unease, of frustration, underlying the casualness of the crowd. Aaron didn't feel it, didn't care all that much for passing irritants like power outages, and would be more than happy to retreat to a dark room so long as it was in relative isolation. Even if Matt or some other capable student showed up there was no promise that he'd be able to do anything about the situation. Maybe it was a powerline? A dead battery? That was a thing, wasn't it?

"… say you've never even heard of it," Nicky was saying, pulling his phone from his pocket and shuffling a little to Katelyn's side to show her the screen. "Here, I'll show you. This guy, he's amazing. Has the most incredible voice and – oh, hey, look who's finally showed up!"

Glancing towards Nicky, Aaron followed the line of his gaze and gesturing hand towards and through the doors. Matt's truck had pulled up on the curb, and even as he watched Aaron saw Matt and Dan unload themselves. Nicky's outburst turned a few heads and one, the girl Aaron vaguely recognised to be Amil chirped up.

"Maintenance?" she asked.

"Finally," someone else said.

"About time," said another.

"No, but it's the next best thing," Nicky said, already making for the doors. "Matt's got handyman genes. I'll ask him to perform his magic. He could lend Neil a hand with –"

The lights flicked on.

Aaron instinctively glanced upwards. For a split second there was a pause of surprised silence. Then it shattered into an outburst of cheers. The hum of electricity restored was drowned out by voices, relief thickening every voice, and the scuffle of movement as bodies rolled into motion. Within seconds, a tidal wave of athletes was flocking to the stairs. Nicky was practically washed away in the thick of it.

"Oh, that's a bit of a relief," Katelyn said. "That kind of thing can be such a pain."

"Mm," Aaron grunted non-committedly.

"Did Neil do it, or did it just come back on itself?"

Aaron didn't reply. It wasn't so much that he was reluctant to acknowledge the possibility but – no, that wasn't it. A portion of it, but only a fraction. Instead, he held his silence as the student rush thinned slightly, watching as first Matt and Dan and then Neil and Andrew entered the building. He watched as they paused on the threshold, as Dan asked something and Neil replied, and he watched as eyebrows rose in surprise.

Aaron didn't need to be told.

As he stared, Nicky broke free of the body of students and made for them with bouncing steps. He greeted Matt and Dan with a smile and a word before turning to Neil and Andrew, clapping Neil on the shoulder and saying something that Aaron couldn't hear. Neil said something back, and Nicky's surprised bark of laughter was far from unfamiliar. As he'd said, unexpected revelations were something of a common occurrence when it came to Neil.

For a moment, Aaron felt the unexpected urge to join them. He wasn't sure what it was exactly – the laughter, the casual comfortability that radiated from their small group, the fact that for once Andrew appeared… if not happy then at least calm. Composed. At ease, even. Maybe it was the holiday, the brief respite of freedom before returning to college, that still lingered comfortably like the remnants of a filling meal, but it was so rarely witnessed that it was nearly impossible to look away.

Especially not when he could notice so much at a distance.

Andrew was staring at Neil. Not speaking, not holding his hand or leaning against him, but that stare said a lot. A lot that Aaron couldn't but almost wanted to hear, because that? That stare was something Aaron never saw in Andrew at any other time. So subtle as to be easily missed but present nonetheless. Something… something that was….

Maybe Nicky was onto something with his proclamations of Neil's silent genius. Aaron might not like him, but he could admit he must have some kind of skill if he could provoke such a thing from Andrew.

Almost without realising it, Aaron found himself reaching for Katelyn's hand. She didn't comment as she took it, fingers slipping between his own to squeeze tightly. "Shall we head upstairs?" she asked, as always understanding his unspoken question. She barely waited for Aaron's nod before tugging him after the tail end of retreating students.

Aaron followed her lead, but if he glanced back at his brother and teammates for just a little longer, it wasn't as if anyone of importance would see. Andrew didn't even look his way.

***

"The red wire or the black one?" Nicky asked, pausing halfway up the flight of stairs.

Neil glanced up at him as he too paused. "What?"

"Which one did you cut?"

"It's not diffusing a bomb, Nicky," Dan called from further up the stairwell. "You don't cut something to turn it back on."

"Okay, okay, whatever," Nicky replied, turning towards her and continuing his climb. "I never claimed to know about that kind of thing anyway."

Neil stared after him, still at as much of loss as he had been from the moment Nicky had all but launched himself at him minutes before. He still couldn't quite understand what all the fuss was about, just as he failed to see why flicking a few switches – something that was far from a trying task – hadn't been done by one of the dozens of other athletes residing in Fox Tower.

It wasn't like it was hard. Surely people weren't that incompetent.

Matt bumped his shoulder as he passed him up the stairs, and Neil fell into step beside him. "You're looking puzzled still," Matt said.

"Nicky's overreacting," Neil said.

Matt grinned. "That's kind of his thing. Thought you knew that about him."

"Yeah," Neil said slowly, eyes on his feet as they climbed, "but sometimes it seems less logical than other times."

"Watch out. From now on you'll be the person he comes to if he wants something fixed."

"I thought you were that person."

"Not lately."

"You fixed Andrew's window the first year I was here." When Matt only blinked at him, Neil held up a fist. "When he punched through it."

"Oh yeah," Matt glanced over his shoulder at where Andrew followed just behind him. Andrew didn't spare him acknowledgement. "Well, it's not like putting in a new window is hard."

"Neither is switching the power back on," Neil replied.

"Some would beg to differ."

"Like Nicky. Yeah, I got that."

Matt chuckled as they finished the climb to their floor. When Neil paused outside his door, Matt slowed, turning to walk backwards towards his own rooms and gesturing over his shoulder as he did so. "Seeing as you're our newest handyman, you'll have to take a go at our coffee machine. It's broken, you know."

"I know. Nicky told me." Several times, in fact. Nicky had bemoaned his loss of decent morning coffee to Neil even before the winter break. "I doubt I'll be able to fix that."

"You know how to do a heap of random shit, Neil. I wouldn't be surprised." With a wink, Matt turned back to his rooms and let himself through the half-open door. The muted chatter of conversation, of Nicky already readjusting to the suite and Matt replying, echoed down the hallway after them.

Neil shook his head as he watched the door swing shut by a phantom hand. He couldn't really understand that mentality – that simple experience in one area was immediately transferable to another. Matt and Nicky weren't the first to make such an assumption; Dan had been the same at the beginning of semester, assuming that his ability in math equated to similar ability in statistics. It had helped, sure, but it wasn't quite the breeze Dan accused him of.

One too many dodgy hotels, a handful of decrepit hideouts with flickering lights, and the houses Neil had squatted in throughout his life were beneficial only in hindsight. Just because he could fiddle with a few cables, knew which switches to flick, and could at a pinch redirect the neighbours' internet to piggyback their signal didn't make him an expert. Not in the least. Rather, the incident of moments before was about the only time such skills had been of tangible use since Neil's life on the run had reached an abrupt conclusion.

Andrew sweeping silently past him into the room recalled Neil's attention and, shaking himself from his thoughts, Neil followed after him. Kevin wasn't back yet and after the hubbub of the downstairs lobby the quiet that followed closing the door was like a breath of fresh air. Neil had only just dropped his bag to the floor, nudging it out of the way and tucking his keys into the pocket, when Andrew appeared directly in front of him.

He didn't say anything. Not with words. It had been a long weekend, a long drive back to campus, and oftentimes Neil found Andrew dove into fits of relative silence as another might take a nap to recuperate. That silence wasn't of the detached kind, however, and when he help up the laptop before him, waving it slightly towards Neil, the message was clear enough.

"Really?" Neil asked.

Andrew blinked.

"I won't be able to fix that."

Andrew's eyebrow rose incrementally.

"If you want it fixed properly then take it to the campus repair place. I'd probably end up making it worse. You're going to trust me to try and fiddle it back into working properly again?"

Andrew blinked again and Neil rolled his eyes. "You're actually following Nicky's lead on this one," he said mostly to himself. "That'd be a first."

"You knew what you were doing downstairs," Andrew said shortly. "Don't pretend you didn't. And from your stories?" He left the rest unsaid as Neil flicked through his memories of having possibly mentioned such a thing to Andrew in the past.

"That?" Neil said, locking onto the one instance that could have made the cut. "That was one time, and my mother's computer was only glitching, it wasn't –"

He cut himself off as Andrew nudged the laptop into his chest. No more words, just a simple gesture that spoke for itself.

Neil sighed. He accepted the laptop. Turning, he took himself to his desk and pulled out the miniature screw driver set that he kept in his desk drawer, the set on of many necessities for the odd occasion when it was easier to do than to ask for help. The tape measure, packing tape, and plethora of pens, pencils, lock picks, and scattered screws of variable sizes rolled and rocked together with the motion of the drawer. They seemed to have accumulated almost without his realising and Neil wondered absently if someone else had been dropping found fragments into the drawer.

"Don't blame me if I make it worse," he said over his shoulder, dropping into his chair and plucking a screw driver loose. "It doesn't even cost you anything to go to the campus repair, so you could just…"

He trailed off, already popping Andrew's computer open, and was only detachedly aware of Andrew taking up a position behind him. He hardly thought himself capable in such a skill, but improvising from the knowledge he had? It had worked in the past, so why not again? If Neil had learned one thing in his life it was that, sometimes, it was easier just to try than to give in to helpless naivety. The possibility of getting it right was oftentimes as easy as flicking a switch.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you get a chance, I’d love to know your thoughts on my AO3. Thank you!

#aftg #the foxhole court #fanfiction #the secret lives of neil josten #tfc #neil josten #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #katelyn #andreil #domestic foxes #post-canon

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clarascuro · 6 years ago

Text

Clara Reads City of Bones Part 3: Hogwarts Institute for Witchcraft and Shadowhunting

The Plot Thus Far

When last we left off, our lovable cardboard cutout protagonist, Clary Fray, had been attacked by a demon called a Ravener and taken to a place called “The Institute”. After three days of recovery, she has an uncomfortable (for us) conversation with Isabelle Lightwood, where we learn that Isabelle is hot and that we, the audience, should hate her for that, and also that Jace Wayland lives with the Lightwood family because his parents are dead. We are meant to feel bad about this. We are meant to feel sorry for Jace, which is a bit of a tall order, considering that Jace Wayland is the worst person to ever smirk and shrug his way through a YA book. If I were trapped in an elevator with him I wouldn’t even wait five minutes to be rescued, I’d pry those doors open and just drop. Death is cruel but quality time with Jace Wayland is crueler.

So Clary leaves the hospital wing and goes down a long hallway, lead by the sound of someone playing a piano. Last time I said that it was Alec (Isabelle’s brother) who played piano, and that it was his only character trait, but nope!! It’s actually my favorite boy Jace, that sack of human refuse! So I guess Alec has no personality, actually. Anyway, they have some “witty” “banter”, and then Alec takes her to the library to talk to the head of the Institute, Hodge Starkweather, and, yeah. I think it’s time to talk about the Harry Potter stuff.

The Harry Potter Stuff

You know how E.L. James made minor changes to her crappy Twilight fanfic and then published it as 50 Shades of Gray? Well, as near as anyone can figure out, this is basically the same thing that Cassandra Clare did with her Harry Potter fanfic The Draco Trilogy. Just change the names, tweak the backstories ever so slightly, slap on a crappy cover and publish that sucker! It’s technically not plagiarism anymore! This is how you end up with stuff like "The Institute”, a secret school to teach young magic kids to control their powers, or Hodge Starkweather, elderly magic professor, who, one could argue, is a crackpot old fool teaching our protagonists magic tricks. (Gosh, how does Clare come up with this stuff?)

This obviously isn’t proof of any kind, but when the villain of your story is named “Valentine” and he’s an evil magic user who has been dead for sixteen years (the age of our secretly magic protagonist) and the main characters are afraid to even say his name...yeah, it doesn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where all of this comes from.

Now all this is frustrating, but it’s also hilarious. I mean, the big bad of the story is called Valentine. VALENTINE. And I actually laughed out loud for several minuted when I first read the name “Hodge Starkweather” to myself. I still get a little chuckle typing this. Oh, and since the word “muggle” would have JK Rowling’s lawyers on her ass faster than light, the word Cassandra Clare uses for non-magic people is...”Mundie”. It’s short for “mundane”. Like...first of all this is objectively hilarious. Second, mundane just means “normal”. If the Shadowhunter society is magical, then aren’t they they mundane ones? I know humans don’t have magic, but we still figured how to like, fly and stuff. That has to count for something. If I saw a dog that taught himself how to read, I wouldn’t like, make fun of him for not also being able to talk. I’d be like “Shit! That’s a pretty impressive fucking dog!” like what the fuck?

Anyway, this is all just a roundabout way to say that obviously this used to be a HP fic that through some twist of fate landed a publishing deal. And you know, it’s not as brain-meltingly bad as 50SoG, so who cares? Cassandra Clare’s just having fun, so who cares if her writing gets published?

Well...

The Plagiarism

So, yeah, she plagiarized lot. Like a lot. The Draco Trilogy has lines of dialogue taken directly from shows like Red Dwarf, Black Adder, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, as well as from Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett novels. Quoting shows apparently used to be pretty common in the early days of fanfiction, so there is context to consider here, but it gets worse. Cassandra Clare lifted almost a whole chapter, nearly word for word, from an out-of-print fantasy series called The Hidden Land, by Pamela Dean. On top of that, Clare was sued in 2016 by author Sherrilyn Kenyon, whose Darkhunter series predates Clares Shadowhunters series. (And for the record, Clare’s series was originally titled Darkhunters. Yikes.) You guys can read the full(ish) stories here and here.

I Guess I Have To Keep Talking About The Plot Now

Sigh. So after Hodge Starkweather (A+ naming there) tells them about Valentine, he explains that Shadowhunters are angel-human hybrids? Or something? They’re special, and they fight demons. Also faries, vampires, werewolves, all that stuff exists. We’re stuck with the Shadowhunters, however, because God has punished me for my hubris, and my work is never done. (Oh look, I just plagiarized Brian David Gibert. I’m a real author now, like Cassandra Clare!) The Shadowhunters were started thousands of years ago by a man named, I shit you not, Jonathan Shadowhunter. JONATHAN. FUCKING. SHADOWHUNTER. Why the fuck am I trying to come up with clever names for my characters? I should just name them all “Alex Clarasbook” and call it a fucking day. Fuck.

Anyway after a thrilling conversation with Alec-Who-Has-No-Personality, we find out that he does have a personality! His personality is that he hates humans. Oh, excuse me, “mundies.” Yep, that’s the best way to make a character relatable. Just make ‘em fucking racist. It’s okay though, it’s only magical racism so it evens out. Have I mentioned that this story has no poc?

(Oh also Clary’s mom was a Shadowhunter, but 1. I hate Clary and 2. literally a newborn baby could’ve figured that out, so)

Clary and Jace leave the Institute to go back to Clary’s house, and Clary slaps Jace, an act that brings me such joy that only the birth of my firstborn child will ever eclipse it, and even then, it will be it close tie. The moment is quickly over, however, as Clary immediately feels bad about it, because again, she is not a character. She’s a Walmart mannequin created for Jace to make out with. Then she sees two girls looking at Jace, and, in what can only be called the true essence of the book, “Clary turned instant traitor against her gender.” Just as a reminder, Clary sucks.

Anyway they get to her house, kill a giant, talk to a witch, yaddah yaddah yaddah. Basically nothing happens except the inevitable unraveling of my mental processes. I had to stop reading there because I have better things to do with my life besides destroying the few braincells I have left. I’ll post the next part soon, as soon as I can read more than five pages without wanting to fling the book off a seaside cliff into the frothing mist that obscures the swell and crash of the unforgiving waves. Until then, please enjoy some of my favorite bad lines.

Selected Passages (And Commentary)

“Jace chuckled. Clary could tell that he had come up behind her and was standing there with his hands in his pockets, grinning that infuriating grin of his.” (She knew all that without looking?)

“Attacked. Clary wondered if this was a euphemism for ‘murdered’.” (Clary you’re literally the dumbest person I’ve ever met.)

“Clary let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in.” (This may just be me being petty, but I hate this cliche so much.)

“‘You may be the only guy my age I’ve ever met who knows what bergamot is, much less that it’s in Earl Grey tea.” (Ah yes, that famous stereotype, that boys don’t know about tea. Oh, you like tea? Name three kinds. I hear sexist gatekeeping is a real problem in the tea community. I am not having a good time.)

“Dorothea chuckled. ‘It’s good to see a young woman eat her fill. In my day, girls were robust, strapping creatures, not twigs like they are nowadays.’ ‘Thanks,’ Clary said. She thought of Isabelle’s tiny waist and felt suddenly gigantic.” (Cassandra Clare’s super feminist, guys. You can tell because she’s always pitting her female characters against each other.)

Rating So Far

3/10-Bad. Jonathan Shadowhunter gets an entire 10/10. I’m going to have my name legally changed to Jonathan Shadowhunter.

#Clara Reads City of Bones #city of bones #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #come at me i wanna fight

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trashyazeohane · 7 years ago

Photo

First time making gif in a looooong time, so yeah, sorry for shitty quality (maybe I’ll try to improve it, if I have time...)

It’s happening immediately after Five shots too many. Ugh I know what is happening after, but I can’t put it into words…

Part 1 can he found here!

Adult!Maxvid!AU - Part 6 (eeeyyyy back on the track):

Ughhh

Ughhhhhh

UGHHHHHHHH

Max wanted to kill himself. He went back to his dorm after that night and just… laid down on the bed and stared with eyes wide open at the ceiling. And he did it for few hours straight.

Until Nikki popped in – during the evening or pretty early night. She just burst through the door, without knocking, like she almost always did.

“Hey, fucktard, why weren’t you picking up your phone?!” She shouted, opening the door so hard it hit the opposite wall. And then she simply stopped near the doorway. “Max, are you in here?”

The male lifted his head and peeked at the bright light coming from the open door and a dark silhouette.

“Kill me, Nik.” He mumbled hoarsely.

“Oh, shit you look like death.” The girl murmured, but stepped inside and shut the door. “Should I switch on the light?”

Max shook his head. It was still throbbing – a faint sound, maybe even a sensation, drumming at the back of his mind. But he was in no mood to get up and take painkillers. He was in no mood to do anything. He deserved it.

“O-kay?” Nikki moved and sat on the chair near the desk. She turned on the desk lamp nevertheless, but bent it, so the light wasn’t directed right at Max. “Okay, in the light you look even worse. Bad night?”

Bad night? That was the best night Max had in his entire life!

But the outcomes…

Max didn’t answer, only laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

So anyway Nikki stayed in the room for few hours, just sitting there and surfing the internet on her phone. All this time Max was just laying on the bed and stared at nothing in particular. After some time she dozed off on the chair.

Max at some time also fell asleep, but woke up in the middle of the night. He stood up from the bed, grabbed Nikki and put her on his bed and he himself went to sleep on the chair.

“Wake up sleepyhead!!!”

Max literally fell down from the chair as Nikki gave him quite a big slap on the back of his head

“What the fuck Nikki!?!”

“No more being gloomy!!!”

“I’ll be as gloomy as I want!”

Another hit.

“Do you want to kill me?!”

“Then tell me what is bothering you!?”

And Max just closed his mouth. He sat more comfortably on the floor and straightened his clothes. Yuck, did he seriously still not change them? He was glad that he had taken a shower at David’s.

David… fuck…

Can he even tell Nikki the truth? Or would David prefer to keep it a secret? He had said forget, forget, forget. Easier said than fucking done! How did David even expect Max to do it!?!?!

“Max?”

What should he do!? He should accept David’s plead, but in the same time he knew he won’t be able to do so! How can he simply forget it? He didn’t want to forget it! That was the problem!!

“Nikki, I messed up…”

“What? What did you mess up?”

“Everything.”

Can he tell her? Or should he keep that night secret between them?

However Max wasn’t sure he would be able to keep this secret around Nikki and Neil. He had tried keeping his crush on David secret and it had blown into his face.

But no, David probably wouldn’t want other people to know this.

“What do you mean by everything?”

So he probably shouldn’t tell Nikki. Yeah, the less people know, the better. It was better this way, it was better this way…

“You really look like someone died.” Nikki said, flopping in front of him on the pillow. Soon after her mouth turned into a mischievous smirk. “What? Did you have sex with David and he told you afterwards that it was a mistake?”

Max hid his face in his hands.

“I’m not hearing you shouting ‘fuck you, Nikki’ like you’re supposed to~”

Max wanted to die.

“Max, come on, I’m still waiting~”

Nope, he was done.

“Max?”

Max wanted to die.

“Oh my god, is that true?” There was Nikki, right in front of him, prying his hands away. “Max, is that true?”

Max didn’t want to answer. Or no – he felt like by answering he would betray something, or someone.

So he only exhaled slowly through his nose with arms slumping down in the process.

“Oh my god, so it is true!”

“For the record, I didn’t utter a word.”

“But Max, that’s amazing. Wow, dude, I never actually thought that you would manage to do it. I always imagined you as this lonely one-sided love-sick person till the day you die!”

Please, just kill him.

“Nikki…”

“What?”

“No… just… no…”

“What do you mea-… Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“Max, I’m so so sorry–”

“It’s okay.”

“… Doesn’t look like it is…”

Max wanted to be left alone. He knew he had work and homework to do for his Uni, but damn, it will be hard to get back on track. But now he wanted to sit here, on this fucking floor, for an hour or so more.

But then suddenly Nikki sat next to Max and wrapped her hands around him.

“What are you doing?”

“Cheering you up? I think? I don’t know, I never practiced it. Does it work?”

“No.” But Max still didn’t push her away.

So they stayed like that for a bit. Then Nikki started to talk about random shit to get Max to at least focus on something else. And after few minutes it kinda started working. The guilt and sadness were still roaming around in his head, but Max knew he had other things to do.

Nikki ordered him to wash himself and then she took him for lunch.

Max in the meantime checked his phone. He was kinda afraid to do so, but he had to do it in the end.

Zero messages from David.

During the lunch Max kinda wanted to write to him to check if he was feeling any better, but he was actually terrified to do so. Especially as the memories were still so vivid inside his head. Then he wanted to write to David when he started learning and then when he did his homework. All this time the phone was lying next to Max, taunting him, whispering soft, empty promises.

Was David doing okay? What was he doing right now? Was he thinking about that night as hard as Max did? Or did he discard those memories – or the lack of them – immediately after Max had left? Maybe he already moved on? Maybe he was back to his normal self?

Or maybe not? Maybe he was beating himself up? Maybe he was thinking about the situation between them over and over again?

Both options were scary and horrifying.

Should he message David? Damn, he wanted to. His heart begged him to do so. With his whole soul he needed to. But no… not now… Maybe… maybe later on…

Back to David -> (idk why but I prefer to write from Max’s point of view)

He woke up on Sunday more over feeling okay. He still had a stomachache but he could live through the day. Gwen was messaging him non-stop when she had found out he had been hungover. He loved her, but damn, he was tired of her asking why and with whom he had drunk…

The day passed normal yet David still felt skittish. He jumped whenever he received new message and he always picked up his phone with loudly beating heart.

But still zero messages from Max. He really tried not to feel sad about it, but couldn’t help it.

He managed to catch up a little with his work and then fell asleep, checking the phone one more time.

David woke up on Monday and quickly checked the phone, feeling weirdly warm all over his body. He had a feeling he had a dream, and for few blissful seconds after waking up he could still remember it, but it quickly dissolved into nothingness after he blinked.

Zero messages from Max. David’s stomach dropped hard. Did he scare Max somehow? He was so stupid. Stupid, stupid, useless, stupid, stupid, useless, stupid, stupid…

David tried to live through the day like he had used to, before the night, but… everything felt different. It was the same, yet not. Everyone around him acted normal, nothing changed, however everything was still weirdly off.

In the evening, when he checked his phone and hoped for a new messages, he had to bit his bottom lip when he found none.

Was it weird to hope that Max would message him again? David also could message the teen, but he found his own fingers unresponsive to the impulses and needs.

Why couldn’t he do that? His heart beated strangely loud inside his chest, pumping the blood through his veins with brute force. He was… terrified?

Terrified? Of what?

Few days passed like that. With his mood dropping down with every passing hour without a new message on his phone from Max. The kids noticed it and asked why he was so gloomy. He had to say that he wasn’t feeling well. Which kinda was true.

So the full week passed… and then another one…

David was on the verge of breaking down. He fucked up and didn’t know how to repair what he had done.

He wasn’t even sleeping well lately. Add his insomnia to this and he basically lived without sleeping at all.

“David?”

“Gwen, can I come over?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. W-wait? Something happened? You sound-“

“Terrible? I’ll tell you later…”

“I was going to say like shit, but that works too. Should I make some hot cocoa?”

“Yes, please…”

And with that David walked out of his house.

Few kilometers away at the campus ->

“Okay, Max… you look like hell after cocaine…” Neil said, staring at him with raised eyebrows. Max knew he looked like shit, but he couldn’t muster himself to look and feel better.

“He is like that for at least two weeks.” Nikki next to him added, looking at the nerd of the infamous trio.

“Okay…” Neil murmured, clasping his hands together. “Have you tried turning him off and on again?”

“Vodka doesn’t work if that’s what you’re asking about.”

“It didn’t work? Okay, so the situation is bad…”

Seriously. That was true. Nikki had tried helping Max by getting him drunk during the last weekend. But the only thing it had brought Max had been more pain filled with memories of that night and taste of vodka on David’s tongue. So yeah, that plan had backfired hard…

He hadn’t talked with David for two weeks and he was pretty sure that the ‘forgetting’ David had meant wasn’t supposed to look like that. But, fuck, Max couldn’t so simply forget about that night and about his feelings for David.

He had tried. He had tried for few days (years even)… and it brought him this – Nikki calling Neil for help.

“Okay, should we like… maybe zap him with a stun gun?” Neil proposed, tapping his chin.

“Crowbar to the back of his head?” Nikki glanced at Max – still curled on the bed, staring blankly at his phone.

“We want to help him, not kill him…”

“I mean… kinda the same thing…”

Max groaned while listening to his friends. He knew they cared. He knew they only wanted to help. But their ideas were ridiculous. Although the crowbar wasn’t maybe such a bad idea. This way he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his actions at all.

And never see David again. God, he was so sappy, but damn, he didn’t want that.

To be perfectly honest Max simply missed the man. He missed his stupid, adorable smile, his weird, fluffy mood, his optimistic attitude – David whole. In just few months David had become his friend – a close one – and Max fucked it bad. Now he was afraid that maybe if he wrote, their relationship wouldn’t be the same. Fuck, of course, it wouldn’t be the same, but ugh…

Max was scared.

“What exactly happened two weeks ago?” Neil asked, sitting down next to Max.

Nikki looked between Neil and Max, deciding to finally stare longer at the latter one while biting the inside of her cheek.

“I… I shouldn’t be the one to tell you…”

Neil blinked and then looked back at Max, who grumbled something under his breath and ducked further under the blanket wrapped around his body.

“Is this about David?”

What the fuck?

“H-how?” Max stuttered.

“I mean it sounded like the most possible option here, so I gave it a shot.” Neil tilted his head. “And hit a jackpot.”

Max groaned under his nose. Great. Should he tell Neil the truth? Nikki somehow miraculously had found out by herself, so Max hadn’t told her per se, but Neil…

“Okay, if you don’t tell me, I can always call him and ask…” Neil said and boom! he was taking his phone out.

“H-how do you have his phone number?” Max asked with the fear creeping into his bones.

“He gave it to me when we went out drinking? Together with other campers? Duuh?” Neil was already scrolling through a contact list. “Okay, so I just need to…”

Max slapped Neil’s hand and the phone clattered to the ground.

“Dude…”

“Fuck, didn’t mean to hit it so hard.” Max grumbled and leaned to lift the phone from the floor, hoping that the screen wasn’t cracked.

“I fucking hope so!” Neil almost shrieked, taking the phone from Max’s hand. “Now I really need some good explanations…”

Max huffed. Was he really going to do it? To be honest, he simply was tired of bottling everything up. He was tired of reliving the memories over and over, always with the bitter ending. He was tired of missing David. He was tired of pretending. He was tired of not knowing what to do.

So he told them what exactly had happened that night.

This is the end for now. Bruh it took me way to looong to finish this one D:<. In the next one there will be David’s and Max’s confrontation!

#Maxvid #Mavid #Adult!Maxvid!AU #my art?#my stories?#I'm so so tired #Please save me from tagging this #I'm done with this gif!!!!

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forestwater87 · 8 years ago

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CULT CAMP MASTERPOST PT 2: NOT SURE I’M USING THE WORD “MASTERPOST” RIGHT

Heyyyyy I have more to talk about! Again, spoilers for Camp Camp Season 2 Episode 1 (”Cult Camp”) below the cut, click at your own risk, etc.

When last I left off, we’d just said farewell to my favorite character (because I have a problem and it’s an intense love of grumpy grumps). And it was really sad for me, because I’m out of Gwenfaces.

But you know who we have instead? We have David. Actually, we have Davids. And that’s enough to warm even my withered Gwen-loving heart.

I mean look at this little fella! It’s impossible not to love him.

And he’s already begun manhandling the new counselor. Bless.

All right, kids. This is a mistake. No steak or shrimp is worth $5. I promise. As the lovely McElroys would say, that kinda deal is “extremely affordable in the monetary sense, but . . .”

Don’t do it. Choose life. Choose appropriately-priced entrees.

That is the face David makes when Daniel (the not-David) criticizes a camper’s language for the first time. That is a look that says “holy moly, I think I’m in love.”

Told ya. David’s bromantic crush on Daniel is actually one of the cutest things in a show just chock-full of cute things.

David isn’t winking at you, I’m sorry. But wouldn’t it be nice if he were?

(Listen, nobody came here for good commentary. You’re here for screenshots and screaming. That’s what you’re getting.)

Shoutout to the animators; this season is already more stylized and has much more complicated and engaging animation than the first,* and we’ll see way more evidence of that later in the episode, but it’s also obvious in little things. Like how that’s David’s face but it’s wrong in a way I can’t identify (beyond, y’know, the weird Exorcist head-tilt he’s got going on). He’s just different enough to be unsettling, just enough that we know it’s not just David with a new palette. And that’s awesome.

*I know nothing about art or animation, and those words might not mean what I think they mean. I’m just saying it’s prettier than last season, okay?

David’s so disappointed in his campers (read: Max). And his disappointment is cute. That’s all I have to say. It’s all I ever have to say.

I LITERALLY SQUEAKED WHEN I SAW THIS FACE. IT IS CUTE AF.

(No, not Daniel. Obviously not Daniel. The one that looks like a human puppycat.)

See above point about the animators being awesome: that’s a David move. It’s a David face and a David voice but I feel like even without all the other clues, you could plop someone down who’s never seen a single frame of this episode and they could tell you something’s off with the blond guy. (Okay, maybe that’s going too far, but I feel it. I can’t put it into words, but . . . damn it, is anyone getting what I’m trying to say? Fuck it, the animators are awesome. That’s all I meant, and I’m not going to try and talk about art anymore because it’s hard.)

Did you need a picture of David making finger-guns? No, but is your life richer now because of it? I like to think so.

THIS MAN IS PURE LITERAL SUNSHINE AND HE CANNOT WALK LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

HE IS 75% SMILE AND 102% LIMBS

THAT MATH ADDS UP I PROMISE

(okay, that time he’s actually winking. Just not at you. Sorry guys. Someday.)

SUNSHINE, MOTHERFUCKS. SUN. SHINE.

Look at all those concerned little faces with their cute little expressions. Nikki in particular is a treasure and we should all appreciate her eyebrows.

Oh, Space Kid. We love you.

One of the great things about this episode is, Harrison (and to a lesser extent Nerris) aside, we get to see each of the campers for a decent amount of time, letting us kinda get reacquainted with them. Obviously the most attention is devoted to our Main 3, and Max in particular, but each of them gets a little something to remind us why we love them.

And I love Neil because he’s a passive-aggressive smartass.

Okay, he might be kinda dumb, because that’s not the face you make in response to whatever the fuck Daniel’s doing with his mouth there. Daniel looks like a horror movie monster and I hate him, and none of these children are appropriately scared of him.

Actually, you know who he reminds me of? THIS ASSHOLE:

Anyone remember this guy? From Courage the Cowardly Dog? He scared the shit out of me, and okay Daniel doesn’t look like he climbed straight out of a dumpster full of heroin needles, but there’s a very similar . . . unsettling-ness.

Maybe it’s the eyebrows. They both have super-low eyebrows, which doesn’t look good with a smile.

But you know what’s worse than him looking like that weirdo pedo guy? When he looks like David:

STOP THAT! IT’S CONFUSING AND I DON’T LIKE IT!

I’d just like to remind everyone that I love Nurf. He’s one of the smartest kids there -- certainly the most self-aware -- and despite being a bully** there’s something in him that definitely wants to help and be good.

And he’s the one immediately won over by the assurance of stability and safety. That’s depressing. My poor sweet child, let me love you.

**Did he actually bully anyone after episode 9? Did David accidentally punch the bully out of him?

Nurf is adorable and I missed him.

“I’m helping!”

APPRECIATE NURF. APPRECIATE THE SHIT OUT OF HIM.

Also . . . he may have killed Preston? He’s not very good at helping, but damn it he’s trying his best!

When Max is the most concerned person in the camp, you have a problem.

Nikki’s plan: karate-chop the door down

Max’s plan: beat the door down

Neil’s plan: awkwardly caress the door like a cat kneading the side of a couch . . . down?

Have some cute Davids. I think we could all use some cute Davids.

Max is having none of your shit.

NONE OF IT.

I can’t remember if I saved this photo for David’s face, Max’s, or Nikki’s. But they’re all lovely.

WHEN THE FUCK DID NEIL LEARN MAGIC?!

Also Max, I know. I feel the same way every morning.

Nikki is cute. More importantly, Nikki is capable of being cute when she wants to be. This is terrifying.

David, you’re about to have a bad day. (Also “wake up and smell the Kool-Aid!” is one of those lines that’s much funnier in context. Props to the writers for that one.)

Max is an angry puppy and David is pouting.

They look so badass! It’s like Charlie’s Angels . . . and David. I wish I could Photoshop an explosion into the background of this picture.

And as you can probably tell from the quality of these comments ha, like there was quality to deteriorate I’m in no way awake enough to continue with this post, but I still have another big chunk of screenshots left because I’m unstoppable.

Which means there will be a part 3. And it will almost exclusively be David’s face.

Prepare yourselves.

#campcamp #campcamp season 2 #cc david #cc daniel #cc nikki #cc space kid #cc nurf #cc neil #cc max #campcamp masterpost #my stuff

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thewritingbranch · 8 years ago

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Kinda Complicated | M.C.

Guess who’s back, back again? Noelle’s back, tell a friend.

Okay yeah, I’m sorry for that. But I’m back! I have like 7 drafts just waiting to be posted. By the way, I’m still looking for a co-writer, so if you’re interested, message this blog. Also, send in your requests! I’ll go now and let you guys read this.

Requested: nope. I just liked this concept

Summary: based off of the song by Scott Helman. If you haven’t heard it, you can listen to it here. This also may or may not be based on an adventure I had with my best friend.

Warnings: some swearing and mentions of drinking

By the way, for any of you who aren’t Canadian, American or Puerto Rican, Pet Smart is a pet supply store. I believe it is called Pet Supermarket in Europe.

Also, there is mention of drinking at the end. Drink responsibly kiddos and please don’t drink if you’re underage.

Last little announcement, I promise. I’m Canadian. I spell certain words with a ‘u’ (p.ex.: favourite). Please don’t get mad in my inbox if you spell it differently.

“You are crazy! You can’t climb that, you’ll get us kicked out!” y/n said

“I am not crazy! Also, challenge accepted” Michael answered

“Michael I don’t care how hard you try, you are not Barney Stinson or Neil Patrick Harris.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I am! I am Barney Stinson IN THE FLESH y/n. And just because you said that I will climb this Pet Smart aisle and get us kicked out. And just to make matters worse for you I will do it all while singing Fergalicious by Fergie.”

“Okay firstly, you aren’t Barney Stinson, you can't get laid for shit and you sure as hell can’t pull off a perfect week. Secondly, do I get to sing Fergalicious with you?”

“How dare you! I was gonna let you be my backup singer but then you said that. You only get to sing Fergalicious if you climb this shelf with me.”

“Oh fine. I will use my non-existent upper body strength to climb this shelf with you. But only because I want to sing Fergalicious.”

“Fergalicious is the best bait. We begin the climb on three, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One-.”

“Wait!”

“What?”

“On three or after three?”

“On three! I just said that!”

“Fuck off.”

“Aww, I love you too.”

“Onetwothreego”

Y/n started climbing before she even hit two, leaving a pissed off Michael on the ground of the Pet Smart.Y/n began to sing Fergalicious right after the word ‘go’ was uttered, forcing Michael to be her backup singer rather than Fergie herself (bless her soul).

“Fergalicious definition make them boys go loco. They want my treasure so they get their pleasure from my photo. You could see me, you can’t squeeze me. I ain’t easy, I ain’t sleazy.” y/n, who was already half way up the shelf, sung.

On the ground, Michael just rolled his eyes. Y/n got to the top of the shelf and threw down a dog bed to hit Michael in the face while yelling:

“Suck my dick, bitch”

“Rotostatic” He yelled back. It was their warning word.

The word they yelled to warn the other of nearby authority figures. They had used it since freshman year of high school. It was the name of the local carpet cleaner’s shop. His truck had passed them while they were climbing their school roof in the 9th grade. That word had helped them avoid expulsion so many times. That word was engraved on the inside of the gold heart shaped necklace Michael had gotten y/n the year they both turned 16. Many people would argue that engraving ‘rotostatic’ on a necklace ruins it but y/n loved it. The necklace is still being worn daily a year later.

As soon as the word left Michael’s mouth, y/n climbed down two shelves and jumped the remaining 4. Michael began pretending to look interested in the dog bed that had been thrown at him and y/n was doing the same, but with that bed's competitor.

Whenever this type of thing happened, they pretended to be a couple debating two competing products. They had done this with creams, ribbon, protein powders, eggs (that was their favourite story to tell. How they got away with smashing eggs on each other's heads in public), condoms, tampons, and now dog beds. They both thought it was pretty amazing.

An employee came to the aisle they were in and asked if everything was okay.

“Everything is perfect. The only problem is my wife and I seem to be disagreeing on which dog bed is better. What’s your opinion?” Michael answered. The employee let out a sigh and explained that the dog bed y/n was holding was of a better quality.

They thanked her and she walked away. She mumbled to her co-worker:

“I think they got a disease or something.” Her co-worker nodded along. Neither of them tried to make it subtle.

“Disease huh? Last time I checked, I only had you and you only had me.” Michael whispered to y/n

“Fuck ‘em. Also since when did we agree to bump me up from girlfriend to wife?” y/n answered as they made their way out of the store, both of them subtly flipping off the employees and hoping they would notice.

“Why are you complaining?” he shot back. He wrapped his hand around her shoulders and they made their way to their ride.

“Hey, Mike you remember that one time we went to PetSmart?”

“How could I forget? After all, we are banned now” He answered y/n’s question with a chuckle

That was nearly a year ago. Nowadays, Michael and y/n rarely ever have time to have crazy adventures like that one, but when they do, you sure as hell can bet they’ll do the stupidest thing you can imagine.

The only downside to that is that Michael is now famous, so everyone is on the lookout for his face. It makes doing borderline illegal things way more difficult.

“I miss that,” they both said at the same time. Once they realized what had happened, they were both laughing their asses off. They always thought they had some kind of telepathy and moments like those just confirmed their theory.

“Anyways, I got this tweet and it’s a link to the urban dictionary. Someone put our friendship on the site.” y/n said after they had both calmed down

“Damn that’s amazing! What does it say?” he answered

“A friendship where some days you shine and some days you rust. Reminiscent of y/n y/l/n and Michael Clifford’s friendship” y/n read off of her phone

“Is it just me or do I feel like they left out a meaning?”

“See I asked the person who tweeted this out that and they said they ‘couldn't find a word for our kind of insane’ I find that to be quite stupid, to be honest”

“I agree.”

“With me or with the tweet”

“That’s up to you to figure out”

“Goddamit Michael”

“Aw I love you”

“I love you too you sick asshole. Wanna go do something borderline illegal?”

“Y/n you know I can’t do that. There’s gonna be paparazzi, we’ll get caught,” he said sympathetically

“Fine. Wanna get drunk while listening to Green Day?” she sighed

“Sure. What song do we begin with?” he answered

“The usual,” she winked

Part 2?

Masterlist

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whythehandbasket · 8 years ago

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dee's super ultra 'this girl might have a problem' mega delux fanfic reclist

≡ haikyuu ≡

↳ iwaoi 「favourite writers: loveclouds -- carafin -- ohhotlamb -- newamsterdam --notallbees -- tothemoon」

Chasing Paper Suns – oneshot, college-future fic with long distance being the main theme, it’s heartbreakingly beautiful with a good ending

just hear me out – oneshot, amazing soulmate au with a twist

it’s bad enough we get along so well -- oneshot, where a confession happens before they leave for college

bloom -- oneshot, epic ability au set in canon volley verse

the river runs -- oneshot, getting back together

All kinds of winnders – oneshot, nsfw (iwa/oi) some good stuff

Diluculum – oneshot, hurt/comfort yumminess

Dinner and a Movie – oneshot, fakedating or is it? ;3c

Either Way – oneshot, nsfw, if you want good porn then here it is

sweet flesh and hard nails -- oneshot, nsfw, reunion sex

bad coffee & lemon bars – oneshot, my fav iwaoi coffeeshop au

the truth is out there – oneshot, it’s ridiculously funny

mint – oneshot, one of those writers i read everything for

Only Fools Fall – multichap completed, that rare epic a/b/o verse fic

stumbling into the sun – oneshot, nsfw, oikawa has a praise kink but not for that dirty talk kind, matsuhana is hilarious in this

Super Spy Husbands ‘Verse – fic series you might already know about but if not then get on with it bc its the most awesome thing!

you’re looking like you fell in love tonight – oneshot, fakepretend goodness

Loves Me, Loves Me Not -- oneshot, oikawa is being ridiculous

15Minutes – multichap completed, iwa-chan becomes famous

Storm Season – multichap completed, avatar au

↳ matsuhana

rated m for – oneshot, i want to see this au for every single of my ships

stranger things – oneshot, memelord radio djs, side iwaoi as always

hang out fall in love – oneshot, about witch doctors

plus one – oneshot, the canon one

poolside -- oneshot, pool confessions

↳ kurodai

If I Could Change Your Mind – oneshot, set during the training camp

the faster we are falling – oneshot, pining kuroo is my fav kuroo

And flowers bloom in his wake – oneshot, modern magic type of thing but set in canon

i ain’t even heard the question, but i know i’ll say yes – multi wip, kuroo failing at relationship gay chicken

A Friend’s Duty – oneshot, it’s about kurodai but the kurosuga interaction sells it

↳ oikuroo

burning bright – oneshot, elemental magic slash fictional sport shit going down, everyone should read this fic it’s a masterpiece

the dream that wakes you up – multichap completed, fakepretend / friends with benefits turning serious

bad boy & boy wonder -- oneshot, rival actors au

↳ ushioi

#notalovestory – oneshot, actors au with ushioi in a nutshell

A Place to Call Home – multichap completed, oikawa is ushiwaka’s kid’s babysitter and he gets ridiculously attached to both oh btw the kid is tobio! i adore this for the gorgeous and cute oikage interactions, baby tobio is precious.

The Benevolent King of the Grand King’s Heart – oneshot, that plottwist tho!!!

Slow Burn – oneshot, nsfw, for that quality sin aesthetic

↳ kurotsuki

the jaywalkers series – look, this fic series must be one of my all time fav hq anything that came out of this fandom, it made me believe that there are good kurotsuki fics out there and i don’t even ship this ship or i don’t outside of this fic. it has the most entertaining, funny, witty writing style i’ve ever seen, the amount of quotes i go back to in this fic are amazing. kurotsuki is also not the only ship it has iwaoi, bokuaka, yamayachi, daisuga too! a masterpiece in my book.

to the beat of my heart – twoshot, awesome au awesome author

↳ oisuga

Stuck in The Middle With You – multichap completed, the shit that made me ship this ship

all you have is your silence -- oneshot, college au

stratospheres -- oneshot, about spirits

≡ knb ≡

↳ gen

because this is a gem and i’m a caring friend ;3

Anticyclone – oneshot, really fun gom dynamic where kise’s flat ends up being everyone’s flat and important choices are made

Crossroads, and Other Places We Met – gen gom at its finest

Walk Through a Valley of Lilies – a series collection about post winter cup stuff, some of them contain shippy undertones but mostly gen

Standing Up – multi wip, timetravel, gen, kagami travels back to teikou days

Protective – oneshot, gom being protective of kuroko

↳ aoka

because he cares – aokaga, oneshot, this author writes nice aokas

burning concrete – aokaga, oneshot, LOVE how poetic this one is serious fav

Firefly Without a Light – aokaga, twoshot, aomine the dummy

Invincible – aokaga, multichap, touou kagami and aomine

Five Fingers; A Love Story – oneshot, aokaga

Softer than Before (All The Second Chances) – multi finished, aokagakuro if you’re into that

↳ aoki

Glad You Came – multi completed, aokise

Atmosphere (or, Casual Affair) – oneshot, aokise

Boyfriend Bluff – twoshot, aokise, fakepretend

moustachiopenguin is my fav aokise writer, her Just Breathe and One Day, He Says fics are my fav for the ship

≡ the raven cycle ≡

↳ pynch

Time Isn’t Real (but you’re a constant) -- multichap completed, time travel au, future!adam switches places with present!adam and he has a wedding ring on his finger

Just To Be Quiet -- multichap wip, one of those fandom favourites everyone will rec you, pynch having a psychic bond since childhood

Larger Than Life -- multichap completed, the first fandom favourite fic anyone will rec you, childhood friends au

Rootabaga Country -- multichap wip, the greatest magical realism fic ever, this author writes amazing world building fics

Son of the Nuclear A-Bomb -- multichap completed, amazing ronan-centric fic, a lot of ronan-niall history packed into it

This Isn’t a Heist -- oneshot, fake-pretend dating where ronan wants to piss off declan and ends up lying about dating adam and well…keep those eyes wide -- oneshot, matchmaker cabeswater demands that pynch gets on with it, it should be awkward but instead it’s so sweet!!

Worthy Of A Crush -- oneshot, everyone’s into adam who’s oblivious while ronan is clearly not

I Would Be Glad To Tell You and Walk Away -- oneshot, the very first trc fic i ever read and it’s still a fav

Hit Reset -- multichap wip, amnesia fic

Goodbye Highway -- multichap completed, amnesia fic, ronan forgets everything post niall-death so he doesn’t remember blue and adam

Six to Eight Months -- multichap completed, the raven king coda fic between chapter 67 and the epilogue

King by the Roadside -- multichap, ot5

What Stays and What Fades Away -- multichap completed, magical exes getting together again

Heart of Stone, Heart of Flesh -- multichap completed, amazing au where Adam is a veterinarian and Ronan dreamt up a whole menagerie of extinct/magical creatures

there’s an additional great reclist if you want more ot5 fics too

≡ the foxhole court ≡

↳ andreil

Lessons in Cartography -- multchap completed, probably the next best thing after the canon books, picks up right after the last book and runs with it

switchblade is my preferred weapon -- multichap completed, best raven!neil fic, a complete rewrite

Armies -- multichap completed, an au where the Hatfords took Neil in and away to Europe but he's still a prize for his dad and the Moriyamas and oh he still ends up meeting and loving Andrew

dangerous magics -- multichap completed, magical au

And We'll Be Running -- multichap completed, the band au where the Monsters are a band and andreil sings and writes songs together and fall in love

light fires at night (to push back the void) -- multichap completed, about andreil and i love yous

everything from Saul but especially her epic mermen/pirates/magic au series Fear No Fall

please tell me it's just the fandom freaking out -- aka the social media au where andreil has no chill for PR shit

right side of rock bottom -- oneshot, andreil learning to touch and trust

we might be hollow (but we're brave) -- multichap completed, neighbours au about healing

here's a mostly tumblr-posted reclist/compilation from back the time when the fandom was a lot smaller

an interesting tfc/trc crossover fic

my most fav crossover fic ever tfc/teen wolf

now i know i said i'd slap destiel recs onto this too but i feel like you'll be ready to drop the moment you see the length of this fic already, so what i'm gonna do is that i'll share my treasure box beautiful site that is destielfanfic which is like the best library for destiel fics, old/classics/fanfavorites/fresh titles/bangs EVERYTHING can be found on it! it has the most astounding tagging-searching system ever so it's easy to find everything your reader heart might wish for. if you still feel like asking for a proper reclist from me then feel free to come back and @ me anytime though! sorry for dropping this later than promised, i had to re-link my trc/pynch list because the links were dead on it + until now i haven't done a tfc reclist so that was from scratch. i hope you have fun with this, cheers!

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rythyme · 8 years ago

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3. Wingman // Nurseydex

« {Part 3 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: sorry, this is two days late, but it’s also almost 3k, so.... hopefully that makes up for the tardiness? also! please note that this fic doesn’t have anything to do with ngozi’s short comic, wingman. your characters are safe. content warning for underage alcohol usage.

This is definitely not what Dex signed up for.

He’d expected Nursey Patrol to involve limiting Nursey’s shots and keeping him from dancing on tables, which, okay, would have sucked, but this is honestly not much better.

“Soooo, have you met Dex?” Nursey says for the third time this night, like imitating Neil Patrick Harris is still funny. He’s dragged Dex over to yet another group of female athletes that he’s going to have to do his best to avoid for the next three years of his college career. Nice.

“Hi,” Dex says awkwardly. “I’m Dex.”

“Pssh, I just said that,” Nursey says, slinging an arm over Dex’s shoulder and leaning on him only a little more heavily than he might have done sober. “He’s usually a lot brighter than this, ladies. He’s a CompSci major—super smart with computers and shit. Plus all that typing means he’s good with his fingers, if you know what I mean. Just look at those hands—”

“Okay, that’s enough, Nurse. Sorry, you guys, um. Bye.”

He pulls Nursey away from the girls and—fuck, he’s pretty sure one of them is in his Stats class, dammit. Nursey stumbles behind him obediently, letting Dex drag him over to the kitchen. Dex fills Nursey a glass of water and Nursey drinks it dutifully, standing next to the fridge.

“Okay, so remind me why you’re trying to humiliate me in front of half of Samwell’s female population?” Dex demands when Nursey finishes the glass.

“‘M not humiliating you,” Nursey insists, then waggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’m trying to get you laid.”

“Well, thanks but no thanks,” Dex says. “I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”

“Chyeah, I’m sure you can,” Nursey says suggestively, making a lewd gesture.

Dex isn’t blushing. “Oh my fucking god, Nurse, could you, you know, shut the fuck up? Why do you want to get me laid, anyway?”

Nursey laughs, swaying close enough that Dex can easily feel Nursey’s boozy breath on his face. He stage-whispers in his ear, “You need to get that stick out of your ass, Poindexter.”

“Fuck you, Nurse.”

“Nah, bro, fuck you. That’s the whole point.”

“Why is this your job, seriously?” Dex asks, trying to change the subject. He really didn’t want to keep talking with Nursey about fucking, and he wasn’t buzzed enough to admit to himself exactly why.

“It’s my job to find you hook-ups, bro. D-Man duty, or whatever. Ransom and Holster play wingman for each other all the time.”

As if the act of saying their names had summoned them there, Ransom and Holster suddenly burst into the kitchen, beers sloshing.

“Dude, don’t say that word,” Holster says. Ransom nods in agreement.

“Which word?” Nursey asks. “You mean wing—”

“Shh,” Ransom says, lurching forward to put a hand over Nursey’s mouth. “Don’t say the W-word.”

“How come?” Dex asks, because now he’s curious.

“Dunno,” Holster says with a shrug. “Just, a few years ago, Johnson—”

“He was the goalie before Chowder,” Ransom adds.

“Yeah, Johnson heard us using the word and freaked out. Like, seriously freaked.”

“Kept babbling about angels and firefighters and shit.”

“So we don’t use that word anymore. It’s banned from the Haus,” Holster concludes.

“You’re free to use the word ‘Wheelman’ though,” says Ransom.

“O…kay….” Dex says.

“Yeah, chill bros,” Nursey says. “I’m just trying to get Dex laid.”

Holster gives Nursey a high-five. “Nice, bro. The kid needs it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dex asks, but he’s ignored.

“Try the volleyball team. The volleyball team is full of babes,” Ransom suggests.

“Volleyball team, got it,” Nursey nods.

“Hello? Does no one care about whether or not I want to be set up in the first place?” Dex asks.

“Nope,” Nursey says, then pulls him out of the kitchen with more dexterity than he should be able to manage after this much alcohol. Dex wonders if he’s really as drunk as he’s been acting all night. “Hey, have you met Dex?” Nursey asks to the first group of girls they see. “He’s quite a catch.”

_/_/_/

The thing is, Dex doesn’t exactly mind being set up. He doesn’t even mind people trying to set him up exclusively with girls, even though he thinks me might actually lean a bit more towards guys. The problem is Nursey. Dex can handle Nursey when they’re arguing or bickering, when they’re too angry to talk to each other, and when they’re on ice together. But he has no idea what to do with Nursey when he’s complementing him. It’s not part of their dynamic. Dex feels completely lost.

“Look at those muscles, damn!” Show them your biceps, Dex. You should see him in a tank top, Jesus Christ!” Nursey says to a pair of freshmen on the women’s swimming team. “You can really tell that all that working out pays off.”

“Have you seen the jawline on this kid?” Nursey asks a group of tennis girls next. “Fucking unbelievable.”

“You know what they say about hockey player ass, right?” Nursey says later to some softball chicks. “Dex is definitely not an exception.” He pats Dex’s ass lightly, and Dex isn’t sure if he wants to kiss him or throttle him.

Maybe, just maybe, Dex could have managed to find a way to handle all of this if Nursey weren’t so fucking tactile when he’s drunk.

He keeps touching Dex’s shoulder, grabbing his arm, setting his hand at the back of his neck, leaning into Dex’s side. Between the touching, the compliments, and the tub juice, Dex isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to keep it together. It’s only a matter of time before shit goes down. Because he’s had enough alcohol now to let himself acknowledge that yeah, Nursey was pretty hot, and yeah, he might like this praise and caressing a little too much, and yeah, he might like Nursey, his teammate and fellow D-Man, a lot too much. Which was inconvenient.

He manages to get a short break from the constant physical and emotional onslaught that is Derek fucking Nurse to play beer pong with Lardo. He figures he’s allowed to abandon Nursey patrol for a few minutes, since he’s been on it all night. He deserves a fucking break—labor laws, and all that.

Even with Dex’s subpar aim, he and Lardo still manage to win the game. One of the to girls they’re plaing against is in Dex’s CompSci section. They did a group project together at the beginning of the semester, and he’s pretty sure her name is Laura, but he’s not completely sure. He’s too embarrassed to check. She’s nice.

“Damn, you’re pretty good at beer pong, Will,” she says.

“No, no, it’s all Lardo,” he says. “She’s the queen of beer pong. She beats everyone. She’s beaten two different NHL players.”

“Still!” she insists, “she wouldn’t have been able to win if you were just deadweight. You pulled your own.”

Dex really isn’t sure about that—he’s seen Lardo win games with drunk-Chowder on her team. Still, he lets the topic slide. “Is this your first party here at the hockey house?” he asks. “I don’t remember seeing you at one of these before.”

“No, yeah, this is my first one! You call them kegsters, right?”

“Yeah. Kegsters,” Dex confirms. “We have a lot—”

“Heeey, Dex, who’re you talking to?” Nursey asks, coming up behind him and grabbing him by the shoulders. His mouth is right next to Dex’s ear.

“Oh, uh, Nursey, this is Laura—”

“Lauren, actually,” she says, and Dex feels himself blush ten shades of scarlet.

“Shit, Lauren, sorry,” he corrects himself. “Lauren is in my CompSci section.”

“Oh,” Nursey says. His smile falters momentarily, then comes back in full force, almost glaringly bright. His tone takes on a quality that Dex can’t quite place. “Cool. Nice to meet you, Lauren. Gonna get some more tub juice now.”

Nursey wanders off towards the back of the Haus, and Dex frowns after him. He’d like to think that by now, he knows Nursey pretty well, and that? That was weird. Nursey has been practically attached to Dex all night, and suddenly he takes off two seconds into a conversation. It raises a red flag. This is probably Dex’s cue to go check on him, because he’s technically still on Nursey patrol, and he’s definitely been neglecting those duties for the past fifteen minutes. He kisses his short Nursey-free break goodbye. “I should probably go make sure he’s not overdoing it,” Dex says to Lauren apologetically. “I’m supposed to be watching him tonight.”

“He doesn’t need a babysitter, does he?” Lauren asks, eyebrow raised.

“No, no, it’s just…” Dex pauses. “When you’ve seen him dance on as many tables as I have, you learn to keep an eye on him.”

When Dex catches up to him, Nursey has already helped himself to a refill from the cooler. He’s leaning against the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Dex says. “What’s up?”

Nursey shrugs. “Nothing. ‘Sall chill.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Dex says. “You practically ran off back there. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” says Nursey. “Great job, by the way. It looks like you don’t even need me to wingman for you. You’re doing all the work yourself.”

The way he says it sounds almost like an accusation—bitter, caustic. It sets Dex on edge.

“What the fuck, Nurse?” he says. “I thought you wanted me to get laid. You’ve been throwing me at people all night.”

“Yeah. But I didn’t think it would actually work—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why the fuck did you say it? What’s your problem?”

Nursey stands a little straighter, matching Dex’s height. “I don’t have a problem. I don’t give a shit if you fuck her or not.”

“You’re being a dick, you know that?” Dex says. “Clearly, for some reason, you do give a shit. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing is—”

“Bullshit!” Dex raises his voice. “I think I know you well enough by now to tell when you’re fucking lying to me!”

“You know me, huh?” Nursey says dangerously, taking a step forward into Dex’s space. “I bet you just have it all figured out, don’t you?”

“You think you’re so fucking smart—”

“Okay, kids, break it up,” Holster says, wading over from somewhere in the middle of the throng to shove them apart bodily. “This is a party. People are here to have fun, alright? If you can’t figure this out, take it outside. Or upstairs.”

Dex looks around, finally noticing the small crowd that has stopped talking to watch them. Damn it. Lauren is staring at him from across the room, her expression slightly shell shocked, and shame dims his frustration a little.

“Sorry, Holster,” Nursey says. “I think I’m just going to head back to my dorm. I’m not feeling too well.”

“Okay, well, walk home safe,” Holster says, clapping Nursey on the shoulder. “Dex, you good?”

“…Yeah,” Dex says. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Awesome,” Holster says. He disappears back into the party.

“See you later, Dex,” Nursey says. He won’t meet Dex’s eyes. “I hope it’s not raining outside. I didn’t bring a jacket….”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Dex asks, and he knows he shouldn’t ask, knows that he should probably let this one go, but he has to know. He has to fix this. He cares too much. “We have a game in a couple days, and we’re going to fuck it up if we don’t figure this out—and don’t pretend this isn’t about the two of us, because I know it is.”

Nursey looks… vulnerable. Caged, almost, like he’s trying to look for a way out. Dex really doesn’t want to give him one. Maybe that makes him a dick, too.

Finally, Nursey nods. “Okay,” he says. “Yeah, let’s… let’s talk.”

They go to Chowder’s room, a silent agreement that they don’t need to vocalize. Chowder already left an hour ago to spend the evening with Farmer, so they know he won’t be home for the rest of the night. Nursey closes the door behind them and they sit side by side on Chowder’s bed.

The silence lasts for a while.

“What was that about?” Dex asks finally. “One minute you’re trying to set me up, and the next…. If you’re pissed off at me you can at least tell me why.”

“I’m not pissed off at you, I just—” Nursey says, then stops. He runs a hand through his hair, looking anxious. Dex is used to seeing Nursey angry, upset, happy, and drunk, but anxiousness isn’t something Nursey let’s slip through very often. It makes Dex’s heart clench in his chest. “I didn’t like it,” Nursey confesses. “You talking to her, I mean. Which is really shitty and stupid of me, I know. I’m sorry I’m like this. But I… I didn’t like it.”

And there’s that tone again, the one Dex couldn’t place before. Only now he’s pretty sure it’s jealousy, which—

Shit. Dex is going to need a minute.

“I thought you were trying to get me to hook up with someone,” Dex says quietly.

“I was, I was, I just….” Nurse covers his face with his hands. “I don’t know.”

Dex can hear the lie in his voice, can recognize the out Nursey is giving him. Dex can just pretend that this was a fluke, if he wants. He can pretend it didn’t mean anything and move on.

Nursey’s still holding his face in his hands, his long fingers brushing the roots of his hair. It’s messy from a night of drinking. It looks almost like it does after a game.

Dex doesn’t want to pretend.

“Hey, Derek?” Dex says.

“Yeah?” Nursey lifts his head from his hands, resting his palms on Chowder’s shark-themed bedspread.

“You were killing me earlier, you know,” he says. He reaches his hand out, setting it carefully on the bed a few inches away from Nursey’s. “You kept saying things about my ass or whatever, with your arms all over me. Do you know how many times you whispered in my ear tonight? They should make me a damn saint for not saying ‘fuck it’ and kissing you.”

For a second, Dex thinks that he’s read this all wrong, that he’s made a huge mistake, because Nursey is silent and he isn’t moving. Then he shifts his hand slightly on the bed, putting it right over Dex’s wrist.

Dex isn’t sure who moves first, after that, but it’s probably both of them. Suddenly Nursey’s face is closer, his jaw sharp and those dark eyes looking more green than gray. Then Nursey’s lips are on his and they’re kissing, softer and sweeter than they have any right to. Dex’s other hand, the hand that’s not being gripped by Nursey’s, comes up to tangle itself in the hair at the back of Nursey’s head, pulling him closer, anchoring him. All he can hear are the muffled sounds of the party down below, the wet sounds of lips, and the breathy noises Nursey’s making against his mouth—or maybe Dex is making those noises? He’s honestly not sure.

They pull apart for a moment, then immediately find each other again. Nursey takes Dex’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs at it and fuck, that noise was definitely Dex. Nursey’s tongue licks into Dex’s mouth, slick and wet, his hand sliding up under Dex’s shirt. Dex feels like he could drown in this, in Nursey. Everything is too much and not enough. It’s always been like this with them, from day one.

Nursey slides his mouth to the side, trailing his lips down Dex’s jaw, down the crook of his neck. He sucks the skin there, then bites.

“Fuck, Nursey,” Dex groans. Nursey pulls his mouth away and looks up.

“Sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, shit, no, do that again. Please,” Dex gets out. He winds his fingers tighter into Nursey’s hair and tugs. Nursey makes a low noise deep in his throat that goes straight to Dex’s groin and then returns his lips to Dex’s neck.

“I fucking love how pale your skin is here,” Nursey murmurs, his breath ghosting the underside of Dex’s jaw. He shivers as Nursey sucks another mark into his skin. “I love how red you get when you blush. I love how dark I can make your skin get when I do this—”

He bites again, and Dex tries and fails to choke back the needy sound that works its way out of his throat.

“Nursey, Jesus Christ,” Dex pants. “Are we—are we doing this?”

“Doing what?” Nursey hums, his voice rough.

“I don’t know—making out, in Chowder’s room… on Chowder’s bed.”

“Why? You think he’d be mad at us for using his room?”

“No…. I don’t know.”

Nursey shifts away from Dex’s neck to look him in the eye. He grins. “What Chowder doesn’t know won’t kill him.”

Damn. He has a point.

“Not a word of this to Chowder, okay?” Dex says. “And we’re not doing this in his room again.”

“But we are doing this again somewhere else, right?” Nursey grins cheekily. Dex rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile inching across his face.

“Yeah. I mean, I hope so. I’d like to.”

“Me too,” Nursey says. “I’d really like that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Dex says, and kisses him.

They’re already in Chowder’s room, after all. The damage is already done. A few more kisses aren’t going to make it worse.

Or at least, that’s what Dex tells himself.

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fadingfartconnoisseur · 8 years ago

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11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing

This post is a little inside baseball about travel writing. It’s a follow up to my semi-ongoing series on travel blogging that started with this post, continued with this one, and will now (probably) end with this post here. To me, the crux of all online endeavors is good writing. I’m constantly trying to improve my writing. With so many blogs out there, if you can’t write engaging stories, you’ll never get anywhere! So today, I want to introduce one of my favorite travel writers, David Farley, who is going to share 11 writing tips for fellow bloggers and writers out there! Here’s David:

I always thought that once I started writing for glossy travel magazines, I could relax a bit because I’d “made it.” Nope! Then I thought that once I began penning pieces for the New York Times, I could say I was successful. Not. At. All. OK, maybe when I had a book out, published by a major publishing house, things would get a bit easier for me. I wish!

Writers, in some way, are a sorry lot. Rarely do they ever look at something and say “perfect!” Maybe for a moment — but give a writer a day and he or she will come back to that same article and find dozens of mistakes. Writing is a craft you never perfect.

We’re always striving to be better. Creatives tend to be perfectionists. Writing requires you to keep learning and improving.

But that’s good because that drive makes writers improve their work, and only through practice and effort do we end up with the Hemingways, Brysons, Gilberts, and Kings of the world. (Matt says: I once heard that until the day he died, Frost never loved The Road Not Taken. He was constantly reworking it!)

If you’re a travel blogger, you probably started off not as a writer with a journalism background but as a traveler looking to share your experience. You probably didn’t have any formal training or someone to peer over your shoulder and give you advice.

So today I wanted to share 11 tips that will help you improve your travel writing/blogging. Because the world always needs good writers — and good writing helps get your story heard more! These tips, if followed, will better your writing and make a huge difference in the reach of your writing!

11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing/Blogging

1. Read. This is number one. because whenever a budding writer asks me how they can improve, it’s my first piece of advice. Read good writing. Absorb it. Let it sink into your soul. Don’t think it’s possible? When I was first starting out, I was sick one weekend, so I spent three days lying in bed reading every page of that year’s Best American Travel Writing anthology. After I finished, I opened up my laptop and started writing for the first time in days. What came out surprised me: it was the highest-quality writing I’d done to date. And it was all because I was absorbed in good writing and it filtered through me back onto the page in my own writing.

(Matt says: Here’s a list of my favorite travel books.)

2. Do it for love. Maya Angelou wrote, “You can only become truly accomplished at something you love.” Don’t get into travel writing for the money — after all, that would be totally unrealistic. And please don’t gravitate to the genre because you want free trips and hotel rooms. “Instead,” Ms. Angelou added, “do [it] so well that people can’t take their eyes off of you.” Or, in other words, strive to become such a good writer that the editors of all the publications you have been dreaming to write for can’t ignore you anymore.

3. Don’t be attached to linear writing. You need not compose a piece from beginning to middle to end. Sometimes that’s not the ideal structure of the story. Sure, maybe you’ve already figured that out. But if not, it’s OK to just get a few scenes and paragraphs of exposition down “on paper.” Then you can step back and take a look at the bigger picture and rearrange what you have, figuring out the best way to tell the story.

4. Tap into your own sense of motivation and drive. The students of mine at New York University who have been most successful were not always the most talented in the class. But they were the most driven. They’d read enough quality writing and thought about it — understanding what made it so wonderful — that there was just something about writing that they got. They weren’t born with that understanding, but ambition drove them to seek out better writing and then to think about it, to analyze what made it good (or not so good). Drive also inspires future successful writers to go out on a limb, to render themselves vulnerable, by reaching out to more accomplished writers to ask for advice, or by introducing themselves to editors at events or conferences. Don’t be shy! Standing in the corner quietly won’t get you as far as putting your hand out to introduce yourself will.

5. Try to figure out what gets your mind and writing flowing. Let me explain: I can sit down at my laptop and stare at a blank Word document for hours, not sure how to start a story or what to write about. Then I’ll respond to an email from a friend who wants to know about the trip I’m trying to write about. I’ll write a long email with cool and interesting anecdotes about my experience and include some analysis about the place and culture. And then I’ll realize: I can just cut and paste this right into the empty Word doc I’ve been staring at for the last three hours! Several of my published articles have blocks of texts that were originally written as parts of emails to friends. The “email trick” might not work for everyone, but there is inevitably some trick for the rest of you — be it talking to a friend or free-associating in your journal.

6. Understand all aspects of storytelling. There are two types of travel writing: commercial and personal essay (or memoir). In commercial travel writing, you should make the various parts of the story an intrinsic aspect of your knowledge: from ways to write a lede to the nut graph, scenes, exposition, and conclusions. For memoir and personal essays, know what narrative arc means like the back of your typing hands. It helps to get an intuitive understanding of these things by paying attention to writing — to reading like a writer — as you read nonfiction (and travel) articles.

7. Don’t stress if your first draft is shit. Ernest Hemingway said, “The first draft of anything is shit.” And he wasn’t kidding. I find this true when I’m writing a personal essay or travel memoir. I write and I write and I write, and I’m not exactly sure what I’m putting down on paper. What’s the point of this? I ask myself. Why am I even doing this? But here is where patience comes in: eventually, the clouds part, the proverbial sunbeam from the heavens shines down on our computer monitors, and we see the point of it all: we finally figure out what it is we’re writing and how to best tell that story. It just happens like magic sometimes. And not all at once: sometimes it’s bit by bit, like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. But as I mentioned, patience is key, because we never know when that divine magic is going to be activated. But sit around long enough and it will happen, I promise you. (Just be cautious when taking Hemingway’s other writing advice: “Write drunk, edit sober.”)

8. Write what you know. “Start telling the stories that only you can tell,” said writer Neil Gaiman, “because there’ll always be better writers than you and there’ll always be smarter writers than you. There will always be people who are much better at doing this or doing that — but you are the only you.”

9. When you’re finished with a draft, read it out loud. Preferably, print it out and read it out loud. This will allow you to better hear how the piece sounds, and unacceptable segues and clunky sentences or turns of phrases will jump out at you in a more obvious way.

10. Always get another set of eyes on your writing. While all writers make mistakes, it’s harder to spot them without an editor. Editors are very important, but they don’t necessarily have to be someone with formal training. While hiring a copyeditor is always great, if you can just get a friend to read your blog or story, that might be good enough. It’s even better if you have someone who doesn’t know about travel. I have a friend who doesn’t travel much; she reads all my blog posts because she helps me make sure I include the important details I might have skipped. See, when you’re an expert on something, you often fill in the blanks in your mind. You go from A to C automatically; step B becomes subconscious. And when you write, you skip step B because it seems so obvious. Getting someone who doesn’t know the steps will help ensure you include explain everything in your post and don’t leave your readers going, “Huh?”

11. Finally, learn to self-edit. This is where many people go wrong. They write, they read it over, they post. And then feel embarrassed as they say, “Oh, man, I can’t believe I missed that typo.” You don’t need to be master editor, but if you follow a few principles, it will go along way: First, write something and let it sit for a few days before editing. After your first round of edits, repeat the process. Get another set of eyes on it. Print out a checklist of grammar rules to go through as you edit. (Note: Matt created one here for you.) As you review your work, say to yourself, “Did I do this? Did I do that?” If you follow the cheat sheet, you’ll catch most of your mistakes and end up with a much better final product!

Writing is an art form. It takes a lot of practice. When you’re a blogger out on your own, it can be harder to improve your work, because you don’t have an experienced voice giving you tips and advice and pushing you to be better. If you don’t take it upon yourself to be better, you never will be. However, even if you aren’t blessed to work under an editor, these 11 tips can help you improve your writing today and become a much better blogger, writing stories people want to read!

David Farley has been writing about travel, food, and culture for over twenty years. His work has appeared in AFAR magazine, the New York Times, the Washington Post, Condé Nast Traveler, and World Hum, among other publications. In 2006 and 2013, he won the Lowell Thomas Award from the Society of American Travel Writers for magazine articles he wrote. He has lived in Prague, Paris, and Rome and now New York City. He is the author of An Irreverent Curiosity and was a host for National Geographic. He teaches writing at Columbia University and New York University.

If you’re looking to become a travel writer or just improve your writing, David and I created a detailed and robust travel writing course. Through video lectures and examples of edited and deconstructed stories, you’ll get the course David teaches at NYU and Columbia (without the price). If you’re interested, click here to learn more.

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touristguidebuzz · 8 years ago

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11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing

We’re always striving to be better. Creatives tend to be perfectionists. Writing requires you to keep learning and improving.

11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing/Blogging

(Matt says: Here’s a list of my favorite travel books.)

Photo Credit: 3

The post 11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

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vidovicart · 8 years ago

Text

11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing

We’re always striving to be better. Creatives tend to be perfectionists. Writing requires you to keep learning and improving.

11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing/Blogging

(Matt says: Here’s a list of my favorite travel books.)

Photo Credit: 3

The post 11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

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tamboradventure · 8 years ago

Text

11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing

We’re always striving to be better. Creatives tend to be perfectionists. Writing requires you to keep learning and improving.

11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing/Blogging

(Matt says: Here’s a list of my favorite travel books.)

Photo Credit: 3

The post 11 Ways to Improve Your Travel Writing appeared first on Nomadic Matt's Travel Site.

from Travel Blog – Nomadic Matt's Travel Site http://ift.tt/2n6AQQ2 via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Travel Blog – Nomadic Matt's Travel Site

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