this-writers-dream

[this-writers-dream]

Visitors

They came on a Thursday. 

I know because Surfside Arcade ran a special "Thrifty Thursday" discount, and we'd been debating about whether to head there right away to avoid the inevitable long lines for GALACTIC RUMBLE, or whether we should make our regular after-school pit stop at Sweet Scoops. I favored the latter. Mrs. Finster never made enough Caramel Crunch to last too far into the evening and I knew if we went to the arcade first, I'd get caught up in the competition and miss my chance to savor that crunchy, gooey deliciousness. 

As it turned out, it was a moot point anyway.

"We need to avoid sticky ice cream hands if we want to dominate on G'lactic," Sophia said, throwing an emphatic fist to show she meant business.

"You know we can always just wash our hands, right?" I retorted, rolling my eyes. She was still sore about losing to Bobby the previous week.

"And waste precious line time? Heck no." Ethan always sided with Sophia. I think he was a bit sweet on her. 

I looked to Emma, hoping to find someone in my corner, but she just shrugged and shook her head. Didn't want to get between us, as usual. I hung my head in disappointment, but I wasn't about to give up. 

I never got the chance to make my rebuttal though because the world ended. The screams interrupted me. 

At the very least, I thought, this meant we didn't have to take that dumb history test on Friday, but it would’ve been nice to know in advance, so we wouldn't've wasted so much time at the optional study guide review after class. That way, I might've been able to get my sweet, sweet scoops before they arrived. One last taste of heavenly bliss before disaster. No such luck.

We'd been making our way through the back streets. Tall, brick buildings on either side offered a comfortable shade that was welcome in the afternoon heat. It did mean we didn't have a clear view of what was going on, though. We heard the frantic yells before a scattered group of people ran into the street ahead of us from the direction of the boardwalk. 

"Move!" 

"Run!" 

We froze.

There were other things they yelled too, but it's difficult to make out when everyone's shouting at once.

Something big was happening. If not, this many people wouldn't be going crazy. But we didn't know what it was (fire? gunman? terrorists?) or which way to run. Some of the people from the initial group darted past us, others scrambled into the buildings around us, while a few ran toward the beach. One man mumbled nonsense as he half stumbled, half jogged, tears streaking his face, a distinctive wet stain on the front of his pants. It stood out to me because it was the first time I'd seen something like that. Not the strangest thing I'd see that day, though. By a long shot.

"What's happening?" Emma was the first to break free from the spell that locked us in place, watching in shock and fear as grown ass adults freaked out around us.

"They're killing us all!" someone shouted.

If that's not enough to get you moving, you've got something wrong with you. It was enough for us. I'm not sure who decided which way we ran, the direction, or even how long, but we took off. (Cut me some slack, ok? Everything was a blur at this point, it's not every day you go through the end of the world.)

We must've stayed on the back streets because that's where we were ushered to stop. A kind man was leading people who happened by into a large garage (warehouse?) with tall, faded green wooden doors that had been padlocked closed. There was a smaller door built into its side, and it was through there that he directed everyone. Must have seen our panicked group coming and decided to help us, too.

"Stop, stop!" He had to practically run into the middle of the street with his hands outstretched and waving to get our attention. Thing that stood out the most was his incredible windbreaker, one of the kinds I'd always wanted but never got for my birthday. Big, poofy, and vibrant. Shimmered in such a mesmerizing way. Funny, the kinds of things that stick out to you when you're running for your life. "There's a safe place through here," he told us, motioning to the garage. 

We all eyed each other to gauge what we thought about this, but I think 'stranger danger' kind of goes out the window when there's chaos all around you. Unknown things were out there apparently "killing everyone," and we needed a safe place to go.

It was dark inside the garage, but someone stood off to the side, flashlight aimed at an open manhole that people were using a ladder to crawl into. Now, I'm not sure about you, but I wasn't about to enter a random hole somewhere without even knowing what was really going on. This has nothing to do with my fear of the dark, by the way. I just wasn't cool with it. 

Sophia and Ethan were, though. Barely even considered their options before rushing forward. Emma and I hung back, wary of even getting too close to the mysterious passageway. We both ultimately decided we weren't going to risk it. The kind man was fine with our decision, he didn't push us or demand we change our mind, just shrugged and re-opened the door into the back streets for us. We shared a quick goodbye with Sophia and Ethan and before we knew it, the door was closed, and we were out in the chaos again. 

 This next part is going to sound even more disjointed than what came before, so remember what I said about cutting me slack. Emma and I decided to head toward the boardwalk, I'm not sure why. I lost her once we got there. (On the way there?) I don't even know what happened to her, just that when I looked over, she was gone. It's not surprising though, given what we found.

As soon as the ocean was in view, I saw a massive spaceship hanging off in the distance as if gravity was a switch they could easily turn off, or pause, I guess. I can't tell you with any specificity, but the thing was huge. Multiple levels, blinking lights, the whole nine. Looked like something off Star Wars. Made absolutely no sound. At least, nothing I could hear above the screams. You'd think the sight of it alone would have been enough of a deterrent, but by that point I was gripped by this morbid curiosity. I finally understand that saying about cats because I was nearly killed thanks to it.

As I got closer to the boardwalk and the sandy beach came into view, I saw them, a pair of them out by the shore. 

I can't tell you what they looked like. I've tried remembering, but it's like my mind just can't do it. I do know they wore these long robes though, with this shimmering, vibrant fabric. In their hands, they had these sprayers they were using against us. People getting sprayed dropped like flies. (Cockroaches?)

It was like they were exterminating us. The two of them were really happy doing it too. Such glee. As if they were a couple of kids who were eager for their turn with the spray toy and were having the time of their lives getting rid of the pests that had accumulated in their vacation home after an extended absence.

I was like a statue again, watching them. 

Don't know if you've ever felt fear like that. The kind that creeps up over you, rooting you in place. The kind you can feel all the way down to your bones. I can understand why a lot of people didn't run.

I snapped out of it, though. Don't ask me how.

Something kicked into gear when I realized they were getting closer to the boardwalk. I needed to get out of there, so I booked it back to the garage from earlier.

Decided, if we were being treated like roaches, I'd hide like one. Retreat into the dark crevices of the world where they were less likely to look.

I found the garage easily enough and climbed down the manhole. There was a small pocket down there that led to a door. I was expecting tunnels and gray and to just be living like moles or something, but I opened the door to sunlight. Instead of screams and chaos, there were green fields, clear skies, trees, a garden where vegetables were growing, some large farming equipment to cultivate crops. Sophia and Ethan were in the distance. All around us was an enormous metal wall. 

I have no idea where I am, but I feel safe.

_____

At the end of a large, dark room, multiple screens displayed numerous enclosures, flashing in vivid colors. A lone figure sat, observing, while row upon row of metal walls, each equipped with the necessary components to sustain human life, were easily accessible with the click of a button.

A blinking red light turned into a steady blue.

“Containment CA-0432 has reached specimen capacity,” the figure confirmed. “Sealing the enclosure.” 

[this-writers-dream]

not enough secret gardens and hidden passageways and bookshelves that open to a mysterious library these days. get working on that girls.

[this-writers-dream]

The first 5 pages of the second chapter of My Own Personal Demon! I should be setting up a separate account for this series, so keep your eyes peeled for that. In the meantime.... Enjoy!

Edit: +3 pages

[this-writers-dream]

Current linguistics obsession: the difference in English between “few/little” and “a few/a little”

“He convinced few people” Negative connotation; he did not convince that many people.

“He convinced a few people” Neutral to positive connotation; he did manage to convince some people.

“They found a little food” “Neutral to positive connotation; it might not be a lot, but they did manage to find some food.

“They found little food” Negative connotation; that’s not going to be enough food.

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Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

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I’ll sometimes use epithets if the other character is a different race (as in not human) from my POV character. Particularly if there are multiple characters of different races. I think that’s probably among the only instances when you would think of someone as something other than their name if you know it. Unless the POV character is close to them. Then it’s name only.

writers of the world: please stop using epithets in your writing, trust me “the blonde army doctor”, “the curly haired detective”, “the blue-eyed man” etc. do not sound as good in writing as they may sound in your head

instead, use the characters’ names, they’re there for a reason and it’ll make your writing much more crisp, tight, to the point, and still entertaining

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i think the funniest possible plot arc for alecto would be ianthe trying to arrange a threesome between herself and her two closest friends (harrow and kiriona), but she just ends up wingmanning them both really hard by accident (since nothing ever goes truly right for ianthe) and that's how griddlehark ends up happening

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their dynamic is so funny to me

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Ooooh Harrow. We're really in it now. 🖤🫠

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She is though, isn’t she. 

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I just think that they’ve probably practiced kissing in the Nova AU

(description and no paint under the cut)

Keep reading

[this-writers-dream]

So I read a whole book in a few days, something I haven’t done since highshool…

[this-writers-dream]

🦴💀💀🦴

[this-writers-dream]

Damn, I never thought it was “intensive” but I did think it was:

“For all intents and purposes” and not “to all”

Neil Gaiman would know better than I on this subject though.

ALSO!

It’s a moot point, not mute. And you have my utmost respect, not upmost.

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

[this-writers-dream]

Some 9th, 6th and 3th.

[this-writers-dream]

Doodles of her gt9 digs I did this week 💀

[this-writers-dream]

Nona and noodle warm up sketch from between projects~ (pls no spoilers I’m still reading ntn)

Ik noodle isn’t a borzoi but he’s a borzoi in my HEART