what happens every time i write fanfiction

Gone: Chapter 4

A/N: I know you guys are probably fed up with this, but I have every intention of seeing it through. Thanks to everyone who send me feedback on the previous chapter, I really appreciate it so much! And thanks to everyone sticking with me and Jay through all this torture.

This is THE CHAPTER by the way. Not the final chapter, but you know what’s gonna happen. It’s time.

Thanks to @justkillingtimewhileiwait & @allenting for all the help with this fic and all the support! You two are the best <3

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

You write really well and you kinda inspire me to want to do the same. Where should I start?

Awww, thank you! And you should definitely go for it! 

Honestly, just start anywhere. Many tell you to write short stories first, but I think they are a lot harder than long fictions, at least if you want to practice, at least for me. Many tell you fanfictions are easier, but I started to write fanfictions about 10 years after I really got into writing. Some will tell you to plan the plot first, some will tell you to just jump into it and see where it goes. The most important thing is probably that there is not one formular that works for everyone. 

So just think about what you want to write because you won’t stick with it if it’s no fun for you. Of course it won’t always be just fun happy times, but the fun parts are what will keep you going. Be aware that writing is a craft that takes time and practice. Be aware that you will need to look at your flaws to become better. Be aware that there will be times when you think everything you do is shitty, you’re not moving forward and you should just stop writing at all. That happens for every writer. So don’t just look at stuff you do wrong, look at stuff that you do well and be proud of yourself once in a while. 

So I guess you just have to figure it out for yourself. Short stories or long fiction, original work or fanfictions, keeping it for yourself or posting it online. It’s all up to you and what works best for you

But don’t be afraid to jump into it and try it out! It’s by no means a hobby for people who are fantastic at it only. That’s bullshit. No one’s fantastic at first. It takes practice and time. And apart from that no one has to be good at it. You’re just doing it for yourself, because it’s fun and you don’t really want to improve yourself? That’s totally fine. You don’t owe anything to anyone. Go with it for the fun times. But if you want to become a great writer don’t be discouraged if you’re not as good as you’d like to be at first. I’m not as good as I’d like to be, but I will never become better if I don’t write. 

Go with it! Have fun! I’m sure you’d write something great. 

Originally posted by enigmaticpenguinofdeath

Patrick Stump x Reader : More Than Friends

A/N: this is a fic for a female reader, my other ones should be gender neutral unless stated otherwise. thanks for all the love and support! you’re all amazing! as always, requests open.
this one is sorta lengthy, but it was by far one of my favorite ones to write! i really hope you like it
it’s dedicated to all those who feel unloved, alone, or lost right now
this one’s for you
things will get better eventually
just hang in there :)

“Mr. Stump! Mr. Stump!” the paparazzi and interviewers were all shouting his name, waving their microphones and recorders and video cameras, asking him dozens of questions. Patrick had already spent the past two hours trying to get through most of them, the flashing lights and blur of faces making him only more exhausted. He had just performed a show, and he was tired and ready to sleep, but you were a close friend and you wanted to talk to him for a little bit, well, after the crazy crowd died down. Afraid to cause rumors or speculation, you stood on the other side of the road, watching him get mobbed by the people, contemplating whether or not you should just go save him already or wait for him patiently.

It was fifteen more minutes of a wait when you finally decided you should go fish him out of that crowd, and you walked across the street, making your way through the throng of people, squeezing and squirming through the crowd until you reached Patrick. “Y/n!” he shouted your name as soon as he saw you, racing towards you and giving you a huge hug. You released the embrace, the interviewers and people screaming and getting even more riled up.

“Who is this woman?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Do you hug everyone like that?”

“How do you know this girl?”

“Is she a fan?”

Patrick just laughed and you turned red with embarrassment. “Calm down guys,” Patrick chuckled. “This is y/n. She’s one of my best friends.”

“Are you sure you’re just best friends?” an interviewer asked.

“Haha, I don’t know,” Patrick smirked. “We’re close friends, I can tell you that.”

“Are you in a relationship?” another person wondered.

“We’re in a friendship,” Patrick smiled, looking at you and you just sighed, chuckling to yourself.

“How long have you known this y/n?” another one inquired.

“A really long time,” Patrick responded. “Hey, I really loved talking to you all, but I need to go get some rest for the big show tomorrow. I’ll talk to you all next time, okay? Thank you.”

You tugged on his arm as you guys made your way past the crowd, and he turned to you. “Sorry I didn’t come earlier,” you frowned. You should’ve crossed the street the first time you thought of it, you chicken.

“It’s fine,” he shook his head. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but those people were pestering you,” you insisted.

“They weren’t pestering,” he laughed, ushering you into his car. “They were just being extremely inquisitive.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. He turned the keys to start the car and then a look of realization came to his face.

“Oh, uh, so what’s the plan? Sorry, I didn’t ask. I just assumed we were going to hang out,” Patrick blushed.

“I’m sorry, haha it’s okay. I just wanted to check up on you, see how you were. I don’t want to keep you up late, I mean, if you need some sleep for tomorrow-” you began but he quickly cut you off.

“No!” he protested. “I want to spend time with you. Gosh, it feels like forever.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “It has been.”

“How about we crash at the hotel? I’m sharing a room with Pete, but he’s out at some party or whatever. We can catch up on things maybe,” Patrick suggested.

“Yeah that sounds great,” you nodded eagerly.

You guys found each other later that night having a deep conversation on the couch, drinking green tea and eating cheese pizza. Patrick talked about his journey with the band, his hobbies, what he had been doing in his free time, how life was like juggling everything at once. You told him about work, how things were going, what home was like, how it was feeling all alone. “Don’t feel alone,” he begged. “You have me. If you ever need to talk, just call me. I promise I’ll try my best to pick up. I’m here for you y/n.”

“Thanks Patrick,” you gave a half smile. “Really, you’re the best.”

He gave you another hug, and then you guys decided to turn on some Netflix, and watch a couple episodes of Game of Thrones. Throughout the episode, you slowly spotted Patrick drifting closer to you on the couch, closer and closer, until finally it was to the point where if you moved so much as one inch, you’d probably either have your head on his chest or his arm around your shoulder. Not that you were complaining, but you were confused. Patrick had told the interviewers you were just friends, but after such an emotional long talk and having poured out all your secrets and fears to each other, it seemed like you guys really bonded tonight. Not that exchanging a hug or sharing tea from the same glass was extremely romantic or anything, but in a way, you loved him even more. Yeah, you loved Patrick Stump. Best friend, boyfriend, or just friend, you were always going to love him. He was such a sweet guy, and an amazing friend. You wished you could be closer, but with him being in the music business and your busy job, it seemed like things wouldn’t even be able to work out, no matter how hard you tried. You were silly to even think that you could have a relationship with him. Again, he had just reconfirmed that you had a strict friendship earlier today. Nothing more, nothing less. And you were happy with that. Right?

All of a sudden, there’s a noise at the door, and afraid, you leapt into Patrick’s arms, and he just laughed. “Sorry,” you backed away, embarrassed.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Patrick chuckled. “I heard it too.” He leaned towards you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him. Damn, he was really good at giving hugs.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. The door swung open, which caught you both by surprise, and you both jumped in your seat, and then Patrick got up off the couch as soon as he realized what was going on. Shit, of course. You almost forgot about Pete.

“Hey, who’s the lady?” Pete raised an eyebrow.

“She’s my friend,” Patrick glared. “Look, I thought you were at a party.”

“We got busted, I had to come home early,” Pete explained. “Dude, is this what you do every time I leave to go to a party? You bring chicks to our hotel?”

“She’s not a chick,” Patrick folded his arms.

“Hi Pete,” you waved hesitantly.

“What’s her name?” Pete wondered. “And why won’t you let me at least two feet into our hotel room? Seriously Patrick, the door is still open.”

“We were in the middle of something,” Patrick grumbled.

“Woah,” Pete’s eyes widened. “Care to elaborate?”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Patrick shook his head. “Just, we thought we wouldn’t have other company tonight.”

“No, no, I get it. You need some time alone with the lady. I just need to be able to sleep in my bed and get a couple hours in before the show tomorrow. Make sense?” Pete decided.

“Come on y/n, let’s get out of here,” Patrick mumbled, walking over to the couch and grabbing your hand and taking you outside to the hallway.

“See you later, sweetheart!” Pete called after you.

“You will not be seeing her later,” Patrick narrowed his eyes.

“Why so grumpy, Stumpy?” Pete asked.

“Fuck off, Pete,” Patrick warned him.

Pete and you both exchanged a glance, widening your eyes at the fact that Patrick would even use that sort of language, but I guess he was pretty pissed off that Pete came home from the party early. Patrick cussed occasionally, but never did he get so flustered or angry like that, much less tell that to Pete. Patrick pulled shut the hotel room door and you saw him frown, probably processing everything in his mind. You didn’t know what caused him to get so angry. All Pete did was just walk into the hotel room. You placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “Hey,” you started calmly. “What’s wrong?”

“Let’s just go somewhere else,” he sighed.

“Patrick,” you mumbled, squeezing his hand.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head. “Now come on.”

Patrick took you to the elevator, and then to the lobby, where you both sat on a couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaning on him, not caring what the people at the desk thought. You sat there in silence for a little while, and then you spoke up. “Why were you so mad at Pete?” you wondered.

“I wasn’t mad,” he shook his head. “I was annoyed.”

“But why?” you whispered. “He was only trying to talk to you.”

“Yeah, but he was trying to hit on you too,” Patrick grumbled. Instantly you felt annoyed too, mostly at the fact that Patrick didn’t even have the guts to ask you out, yet he’d get angry when another guy so much as talked to you.

“Why would you care?” you snapped. “It’s not like I can’t flirt with other guys. Remember? I’m just your friend.”

Patrick drew in a sharp breath, almost at a loss for words, and you closed your mouth instantly, knowing you had just hurt him. Fuck. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that. Rather than make things worse, you just decided to stay quiet, listening to Patrick’s ragged breathing, until finally he took a shaky breath and dared to speak. “You, um…” he stammered. He regained his composure and tried again. “You don’t think I care about you?”

“I don’t know,” you sunk deeper into your seat, his arm around you making you feel guilty all over. “I don’t know anything anymore. I’m so confused.”

“But y/n,” Patrick let out an exasperated sigh. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Maybe it’s because you cuddle with me and you tell me everything and I think you might like me and I’m waiting, constantly forever waiting for the day when you might confess your feelings for me, because I still can’t tell if you like me or not. But then I go to an interview or I meet one of your friends, and it’s like you don’t want anyone to know about me. I’m just the friend,” you mumbled. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, Patrick, but this is what happens every single time I try to see you. It’s why I sometimes don’t return your calls or your texts, because I’m so confused. I don’t know if you want to be just friends or you want to be something more. So you need to tell me. Please.” You took a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Patrick sighed. A comfortable silence filled the conversation, and you rested your head comfortably on his chest, still waiting for an answer to your question. That’s when you felt him start to get up, and you backed away, starting to follow him.

“Where are you going?” you inquired, following him out the front door.

“I need to show you something,” Patrick told you. “It’s important.”

“Okay…” you replied.

He took your hand, practically dragging you to the front lawn, until he stopped and put his hands on both of your shoulders, gazing up into your eyes. “Y/n,” he whispered your name and closed his eyes tight, then opened them again. “I care about you. I care about you so fucking much you have no idea. I’ve always loved you. I’ve always tried to tell you I love you, but every time I think about it, my lips turn to stone and I can’t say the words and it’s like my own mind is working against me. I’ve tried to, y/n. I’ve tried to tell you so many times I’ve lost count but every time I try and I can’t it just reminds me that I can’t always succeed at everything I do. Look, I got angry or annoyed or whatever you want to call it earlier because I was jealous. I was overprotective. Every time a girl comes within so much as two feet from Pete Wentz he’s instantly after her. I didn’t want that to happen to you. I didn’t want you to be his pathetic one night stand slut. I didn’t want you to get used. I don’t want anyone to ever treat you wrong. I love Pete to death, but he fucks up sometimes too. Especially with relationships and girls. But look, the reason why I was so angry or annoyed, it was because of you. Because I want you to be mine. Nobody else’s. Y/n…” He took a big breath. “I love you. I love you so much. And I don’t know why it took me so long to say that to you, and I’m sorry it did, but I am ever so happy I’m finally able to tell those words to you now. Because you deserve them. You deserve everything in the entire world.”

“Patrick,” you breathed his name, staring at him, shocked and petrified, your mind swirling with thoughts and unable to comprehend what just happened. You were unsure of what to do, and so you just stood there, staring at him like an idiot, as if paralyzed and unable to move. You couldn’t even say anything, and even if you did, you wouldn’t know what to say. He liked you? He loved you? Did he really just say that?

“Fuck,” he ran a hand through his hair desperately. “I’m sorry, but I really need this.” And he kissed you. He held your face gently with both hands and leaned in and he kissed you, his lips pressed against yours, his breath soft and warm, everything frozen in time and washed over with bliss. He pulled away, taking a deep breath and then staring at you, a worried expression on his face.

“Thank you,” you regained your composure. You smiled up at him, and he gave a grin back, and you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tight. “I love you too.”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” he apologized.

“It doesn’t matter,” you shook your head. “You came around soon enough.”

You released the embrace and stared at each other, and then burst out laughing. “Come on,” he beckoned. He walked with you around the building, until you found a grassy area, quiet and calm and away from everything and everyone else, and you both laid down in the grass, staring up at the dark sky full of stars.

“It’s beautiful,” you sighed.

“Did you know,” Patrick began. “There are over one hundred billion stars up there, and you are more beautiful than every single one of them?”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

“It’s true,” he insisted. “As cheesy and romantic as it sounds, it’s true.”

“No it’s not,” you shook your head and chuckled. Patrick sat up, looking at you with a frown on his face.

“You really think that?” he whispered.

“What?” you wondered, sitting up too, brushing off the grass blades from your clothes.

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” he murmured, a hurt expression on his face.

“Patrick-” you began but he shook his head.

“Why don’t you think you’re pretty?” he sighed, exasperated, as if he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. “You’re gorgeous, y/n.”

“Stop,” you forced a laugh. “We don’t need to talk about this Patrick.”

“Yes, we do,” he persisted. “Y/n, why would you feel that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you replied.

“Why wouldn’t you think you’re beautiful?” he repeated.

“Because I know I’m not,” you finally answered. “It’s a fact.”

“No,” Patrick shook his head. “No, no, no.”

“Yes,” you sighed. “Yes it is. And I don’t want to talk about it. So can we please just drop the subject?”

“But why-” he kept persisting and you finally just blew up.

“Why? You want to know why? Because every single time I look in that goddamn mirror I see my reflection staring back at me and I hate it. I hate it so fucking much because I look at the people around me and I know that I will never, ever, be like them. I will never be as good as them or as pretty as them or as talented as them no matter how hard I try. Every time I try I just fail. And I’ll never deserve anyone because I’m just me. I’m stupid and pathetic and I hate myself,” you closed your eyes and tried to fight back the tears. “So don’t try to lie to me Patrick. I’m not beautiful.”

He stayed silent, staring at you with an expression on his face as if he was just shot in the chest, hurt and pained and broken on the inside, and you wondered what the fuck you said that made him look like that. Seeing him like that, it made you feel as if you just ripped out his heart. But you didn’t know why. All you were doing was just stating facts. It wasn’t even about him. “Y/n,” he choked out your name. He just looked at you, that sadness inside him practically pouring itself out, and you instantly felt guilty again and you didn’t know why. “Please, please don’t think that.” He closed his eyes tight and to your surprise, when he opened them again, he was crying. Why the hell was he crying? “Don’t hate yourself.”

“Patrick-” you began but he just shook his head.

“You might hate yourself now, but I will try every single day of my life to make you believe otherwise,” he told you. “I love you, I love you so much and I don’t know why you would ever think those things. The reason why you’re not going to be the same as other people is because you are different than all of them. You are special and important and so much better than any of them will ever be. I don’t want them, y/n. I want you. And I will always want you, because you are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on in my life. And I never want to lose you. Ever.” He took a deep breath. “So please, if not for you, then for me, just learn to love yourself. Because you are the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I don’t want anyone else ever thinking otherwise, even if that person is you. Understand?”

“Please,” you crawled up to him and brushed the tears off his face. “Don’t cry because of me.”

“Then promise me,” he begged. “Promise me that you will learn to love yourself.”

“Patrick, I can’t fucking-” you began but he tackled you, he pushed you to the ground and planted his lips on yours midway through your sentence, catching you by complete surprise. His hands on your shoulders and his chest pressed against your breasts and his legs on top of yours, his weight almost crushing you, and he was kissing you, so passionately, and you were feeling emotions you never even realized you possessed. It was exhilarating and thrilling and so absolutely indescribable, and when he finally rolled off of you, letting you catch your breath, you weren’t even sure what had happened. All you knew was that you were laying face up on the grass, and Patrick was beside you, and you were both gasping for air.

“Promise?” Patrick panted, turning his head towards you and grinning.

“Promise,” you sighed, still trying to find oxygen.

“Glad I changed your mind,” he gave an exhausted laugh. “Holy smokes, that was amazing.”

“God, Patrick, you’re going to suffocate me,” you joked, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Ouch,” he joked.

“You lost your fedora,” you giggled, pointing over to where it had toppled off into the grass beside him. He sat up and then so did you, and he picked up his fedora and rearranged it on his head.

“Better?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” you laughed, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t loose my fedora, it would be a tragedy,” he explained. You laughed, and then you both smiled at each other, sighing happily. “Let’s go back to the room. I should probably apologize to Pete.”

“Okay,” you nodded. You both got up and held hands, walking back into the hotel, and went to the room. Patrick got the card from his back pocket and slid it in the key, opening up the door and ushering you inside. The lights were off and Pete was already snoring, asleep, and you both exchanged a glance.

“Just stay quiet,” Patrick murmured. “Let’s not wake him up.”

“Patrick, you’ve got a show tomorrow. You need to sleep,” you reminded. “It’s late.”

“I know, but, I don’t want this to end,” he sighed.

“It doesn’t have to,” you shrugged. Patrick looked at you and then smirked, kicking off his shoes and socks and crawling into bed and underneath the sheets, taking you with him. You both laid down, your heads inches apart on separate pillows, facing each other.

“I love you y/n,” he grinned.

“I love you too, Patrick,” you replied.

“I love you more,” he added. He leaned towards you, kissing you again, and you somehow ended up on top of him, his arms wrapped around you and you sitting in his lap. Your fingers followed the rim of his fedora, and then you pulled back, watching him catch his breath.

“We won’t need this right now,” you winked, taking the fedora off his head and tossing it onto the nightstand. You kissed him again, his lips so sweet, and his hands explored your back and your fingers sifted through his long blonde hair. His tongue traced your lower lip, begging for entrance, and you opened your mouth, your tongues fighting for dominance until finally he won. You never knew Patrick to be so dominant, or confident, but tonight you were seeing so many different sides of him. It was actually quite appealing, and you found it rather hot. Damn, he sure knew how to please you. His hands on your back pressed your body closer to his, his tongue exploring your mouth, your fingers lightly tugging on locks of his hair as you moaned softly. He was so good at this. His lips slowly traveled to your cheek, and then trailed across your jawline, planting kisses down your neck. “You. Are. So. Gorgeous.” He kissed your skin between each word, and you tilted your head back when he made his way to your shoulder, the feeling something so extraordinary, you had never felt anything like it before.

“Patrick,” you begged, untying his tie and tossing it to the side, then unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Mhm,” he nodded. He pulled away from the kisses and helped assist you, pulling off his shirt and catching his breath. He was so handsome, his chest and his stomach so smooth and soft, absolutely amazing. How do people like him even exist? You looked him up and down and smiled.

“You’re so perfect,” you gasped. You kissed him again, this time your tongue able to control the kiss, your hands scaling up and down his chest and stomach, making him moan into your mouth. He tangled his fingers in your hair, pressing your face closer to him, and when you pulled back to catch your breath, you found his hands at the hem of your shirt.

“Lift your arms up for me, sweetheart,” he ordered. You did as told, and he slipped your shirt off of you, examining you and grinning. “I can’t see how you don’t think this isn’t beautiful.” He kissed you again, and again, and again, his hands roaming all over your skin, until you pulled back and when he leaned in for another kiss, you stopped him.

“Not tonight baby,” you shook your head. “We’ll be up all night.”

He stared at you, and then nodded his head. “Okay,” he agreed. “Yeah.”

“We can’t wake up Pete,” you pointed out.

“You’re right,” he chuckled softly. He leaned towards you, but instead of kissing you, he moved his lips towards you ear and whispered, “I want to be able to hear you screaming my name.” Your eyes widened, totally taken aback that Patrick would even say something like that, but you had to admit, it was damn sexy.

“We’ll finish this up another time,” you promised. “But for now, you need to get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he complied. You laid on top of him, both of your shirts somewhere discarded on the ground now, and you rested your head on his chest, your fingers entangled in his hair, his hands rubbing small circles on your bare back, his heart close to yours, his cool breath on your face.

“Sweet dreams,” you whispered.

“Goodnight y/n,” he mumbled. He closed his eyes and you fell asleep like that, drifting off into a sweet slumber, his arms wrapped around you and keeping you safe.

When you woke up, realizing that someone was underneath you, was it Patrick? That’s when you started to remember everything. It was real. All of that was actually real. You grinned, thinking of everything he had said to you last night, and then you got up, looking at his face. He was such an adorable sleeper, his lips parted slightly, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with each breath. You checked the clock and realized you should probably wake Patrick up too, so you called his name several times, his eyes fluttering open and rearranging his glasses on his face. “Come on Patrick, you gotta wake up. There’s a big show today,” you reminded.

“Mmm y/n?” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and opening them up. You crawled off of him, also remembering that you were both shirtless. You got up off the bed, picking up his fedora from the nightstand and fixing it on your head, grinning.

“You got to get up or else you won’t get your fedora back,” you teased. He sat up in bed, laughing and smiling at you.

“Was yesterday real?” he wondered.

“Sure was!” a voice made both you and Patrick jump, and sure enough, it was Pete, who had swung the bathroom door open and walked into the bedroom.

“Damn,” Patrick put a hand to his chest. “You almost scared me to death, Pete.”

“Holy shit, look at that hot girl,” Pete raised his eyebrows, looking you up and down and staring at your breasts with a playful grin. “Sure you’re just friends?”

“Shut up,” Patrick grumbled.

“Sorry,” you instantly blushed, embarrassed, and you searched the ground for your t-shirt from last night, picking it up and slipping it on.

“You don’t have to put on the shirt, honey. You look a whole lot better without it,” Pete suggested.

“Quit it,” Patrick snapped, pulling off the covers and getting out of bed.

“Woah, look at you Pattycakes! Shirtless? When was the last time I saw you shirtless?” Pete wondered.

“Stop,” Patrick demanded. “You’re being rude.”

“I’m just curious,” Pete sighed. “What can I say? It’s not everyday I find you sleeping with hot chicks, Pat.”

“Knock it off, Wentz,” Patrick warned. “Last chance.”

“Last chance or what?” Pete challenged.

“Or I’ll kick your ass,” you put your hands on your hips. Pete blinked in disbelief, and then you picked up Patrick’s wrinkled dress shirt and handed it to him, which he slipped on quickly and buttoned almost twice as fast. “Come on, Patrick. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

You tugged on his arm and the two of you left the hotel, you staring Pete down until you reached the hallway, and Patrick looked at you. “Thanks,” he chuckled sheepishly.

“He deserved it,” you shrugged.

“You look good in my fedora,” Patrick beamed.

“Nah, you look better in it,” you reassured, taking it off your head and giving it to Patrick.

“So where do you want to go?” Patrick asked. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek and pressed the elevator button.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” Patrick inquired.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

As soon as you walked out of the hotel though, there were photographers and paparazzi and interviewers flocking him. “Mr. Stump! Mr. Stump!” they all called.

“Here we go again,” Patrick chuckled. You stood beside him as they raced up to him.

“Is this the same girl from last night?”

“Who is she?”

“Why was she at your hotel with you?”

“Are you sure you’re just friends?”

“Why are you wearing the same outfit as yesterday?”

“How come you’re with this girl again?”

“Guys,” Patrick took a deep breath and grinned. “This is y/n. I’m proud to announce that she’s my girlfriend, and I love her a lot, and I think you’ll all learn to love her too.”

“Your girlfriend?” someone cried.

“Yeah,” Patrick laughed. “And she makes me the happiest man in the world.”

anonymous asked:

Do you have a list of fan fics that you have written or especially like? I'm looking to read a ton to get me through this hiatus!!!

Hi, anon! So, idk if you know this but I (Gio) run the @omeliafics account and you can find LOADS of fanfiction there! Of every genre and type you want. There’s the fic recommendation segment and the fic library, so take a look at those and see if there’s any one that interests you :) I also write the A Music Affair series, which you can find here. And, what is keeping me through this hiatus is @jordan202‘s amazing series The Journey, which tells what happened with Omelia in between scenes of the show, ever since they met each other for the first time.

But this is all my opinion, I’m gonna send a message to the other girls here to see if there’s any fic they recommend as well :) Hope I helped, anon!

anonymous asked:

tbh I write Naruto fanfiction because I'm in denial about most of what happened. Itachi didn't die, the Uchiha massacre didn't happen, Sakura is a bamf who doesn't cry over Sasuke every time they meet, Shisui didn't die, Naruto becomes Hokage and the shinobi cycle and their treatment doesn't continue. Honestly, I took the Naruto characters and basic plot and am writing it the way I wanted it to be written (like most Naruto fanfic writers) because damn, the story fell short. #myopinion ;)

That’s fair enough. By all means, write to your heart’s content and let your imagination run wild Anon :)

A Written Heart

This was my contribution for the fall @mores2sl. It’s my first story so I hope you enjoy it! And an enormous thanks to @lovesbiggerthanpride for beta-ing & putting up with me & helping out so much! (check out her work!) It’s a modern AU and there will be more to come!


My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am 21 years old. I am a senior at Capitol University. I have a sister and mother. My father is dead. My therapist is making me do this.

Katniss lets out a frustrated groan before scribbling out what she just wrote. After her father was killed in a construction accident, she shoved her grief in a box and locked it up so she could take care of her little sister, Prim, when it appeared her mother had checked out. It worked for her, well, until 2 years ago.

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anonymous asked:

That library sterek fic made me so happy and now I actually want to read that drarry porn Derek was writing oops

I have such headcanons about Derek and Drarry.

I was talking to @hoechlindylan the other day about how I headcanon Derek got into the Harry Potter books after the fire and wrote fanfiction to keep him sane. Laura told him writing would help but he didn’t want to write about his feelings, about what happened, so he wrote fanfiction.

He wrote Drarry fanfiction, probably seeing something of himself in both Harry and Draco, but look here, he also wrote good fanfiction. I am talking, like, he was popular but when he and Laura returned to BH he stopped and never returned to this monster of a fic he had been writing and updating every month like clock work.

Now, I know this is highly coincidental but just say Stiles loves Drarry and *gasp* HIS FAVOURITE FIC OF ALL TIME STOPPED UPDATING JUST AS SCOTT GOT BITTEN AND HE WAS SO VERY SAD BECAUSE IT WAS SUCH A GOOD FIC AND HE LOOKED FORWARD TO IT EVERY MONTH.

But now, let’s just say Derek and Stiles start hanging out. Maybe when Stiles gets to college and maybe one day Stiles is having a rough week and he is all, “You know what would make me feel better? If my favourite fanfic author would come back. I hope they are okay and didn’t die or something. Oh my god, WHAT IF THEY DID DIE DEREK? THEY WERE TOO PRECIOUS FOR THIS WORLD TO DIE.” 

And Derek is just sitting there, snorting and blushing away. That is until Stiles shows him said fanfic author and then he’s just blushing because…that’s…him? Derek doesn’t know what to say, so he just shrugs, says it looks okay. To which Stiles gasps, says, “Derek, this is more than okay. Do you even know how many hearts this person broke when they stopped writing?” And Derek is all ????? because he broke people’s hearts??

Now, of course Derek - secret, shy lovely marshmallow he is underneath all those sweaters and glaring - feels immediately bad because…he had people waiting on those updates? He never knew. But more than that, Stiles is going through a tough time with his thesis and he wants…he just wants to make him happy, okay? This has nothing to do with the butterflies he gets when Stiles smiles at him. Nothing, okay? WHATEVER YOU THINK YOU KNOW, IT’S ALL LIES.   

So, cue Derek getting back into writing. Cue Derek feeling happy. Cue Derek finding joy in not only writing but all the comments and praise he gets to catch up on while he was away. He has so many comments. People telling him what a great writer he is and that they hope he’s okay, wherever he is. Some even telling him the way he writes Harry and Draco is exactly how they understood them in the books and thanking Derek for writing them so truthfully. 

And then, of course, the day after he posts an update. He waits all day for Stiles to call or text or something. He hopes he will anyway, and then, right as he is making dinner Stiles bursts into Derek’s apartment and is smiling so hard, waving his phone at him, yelling “Derek, THEY UPDATED. IT’S A MIRACLE. THEY’RE ALIVE.” And Derek takes such joy from seeing Stiles so happy, smiling to himself, pleased, even though externally he is trying to maintain an air of indifference. 

And of course, this goes on for months. A year later Derek finishes the fic- 251k- and Stiles will not stop raving about it. “There’s even a sex scene, Derek. I mean, I wasn’t even expecting a sex scene but it was so beautiful and I was hard and emotional at the same time and this person is just my hero.” 

It takes Stiles exactly one month to figure out it’s Derek, jumping on Derek’s laptop to search for something only to see his browser is still open and- 

AND DEREK, THE SWEET LITTLE NUGGET,  FORGOT TO LOG OUT OF HIS FANFICTION.NET ACCOUNT. AND STILES SEES WHO HE IS and…well…at first he stares in shock. And then he fan girls. Hard. 

He thinks about just telling Derek right away but he wants to have fun with this, so he’s all like “so, have you ever thought about writing fanfic?” But Derek isn’t stupid, okay? He’s a clever cookie and he knows Stiles and he just…he blushes everywhere and gets up, grumbling about this and that in the hopes Stiles drops the subject but at the same time hoping he doesn’t. AND THEN STILES JUST JUMPS ON HIM AND YELLS “CAN YOU SIGN MY KINDLE?????”

And of course, this is Derek. Physical book lover, scrunching up his nose because he hates kindles, he’s a real book person. He’s that guy who goes about arguing how you can’t love a kindle. You can’t truly feel and smell and enjoy a kindle…but, well…he can’t NOT sign it.

So he signs the back saying, “To Stiles, my Draco. Love, your Harry”.

And he knows it’s a bold move but, to hell with it, because Derek is in love and will probably always be in love with Stiles and he has to say something. And what better way to confess your undying love than through a Harry Potter dedication???

Stiles, of course, can’t stop grinning and probably annoys Derek the rest of the night with Harry Potter pick up lines and quoting lines of Derek’s fanfic because “you don’t understand how much this fic meant to me, Derek. It was the first time I understood being bi was okay. That the way I felt about boys…was okay. Dad never had that talk with me. Your fic - you - did.” 

And they’d live nerdily ever after.

Dinner? (Part IV)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: Language. Fluff. Mild Angst.

Word Count: 2369

Author’s Note: It’s a short ass chapter!! Forgive me please!! Based on a conversation with @pleasecallmecaptain​. FINALLY. PART 4 IS UP. I’M SORRY IM GARBAGE. PLEASE FORGIVE AND FORGET. This is NOT the end! PART 5 IS COMING. I SWEAR. Thank you to everyone who has liked and reblogged this fic, and helped this blog grow tremendously within the past month!!!! ALSO. DISCLAIMER BECAUSE I’VE NEVER BEEN TO A CON BEFORE SO IDK HOW ACCURATE ANY OF THIS IS.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V |  Part VI/Epilogue


By the time you had finished getting ready, your underwear was dry. You slipped it on, opting to stay in Sebastian’s shirt. After finishing the leftover pizza, you, Sebastian and Hayley left for the convention centre.

When you arrived, there seemed to be some sort of commotion so you were all escorted into the centre through the back entrance. There was still some time left before the panel started so while Sebastian and Hayley left to join the cast, you wandered around backstage aimlessly, checking your Tumblr.

You were just mindlessly scrolling through your dashboard when suddenly something caught your eye.

Is that? Ohmygod. What? Is that? No way. How?

There, on your dash, was a picture of you and Seb leaving the centre together last night. You stared at it. You felt hot tears prickling the corners of your eyes. How would he react? What if he refutes it? Or what if he’s not ready to talk about the pair of you? What if, what if, what if?

You didn’t want someone to catch him off guard at the panel. He didn’t deserve that. You set of in search of him, nervously wringing your hands. You had no idea where he was but you had to try. You walked around backstage, frantically searching for Sebastian.

As you ran about the convention centre, you failed to notice the stares that people were giving you. Especially from those that were extreme fangirls of Sebastian’s. However, in your hurried state, you simply breezed past them, head swiveling left and right, eyes focused and snapping about. Every time you thought you saw someone who even remotely looked like Sebastian, your neck snapped around, eyes narrowing in before disappointment and frustration settled in as you realized you were mistaken.

You searched and searched but it was no use. You wouldn’t be able to warn Sebastian that someone had seen you two leave together. You didn’t know the extent of the reactions of Sebastian’s fans over the picture but if you had to guess, they would either be really supportive or hate your guts.

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Too Good To Be True

What happens when Jimin catches Jungkook reading Jikook fanfiction?


Jungkook’s hands explored Jimin’s body as they were drowning in each other’s lips. Jungkook couldn’t believe that this was happening, that it was all real. It just seemed too good to be true…

“It is actually way too good to be true,” the real life Jungkook thought dejectedly, as he continued scrolling through the fanfiction. Of course, he was reading in the far corner of his dorm room at ten thirty at night, because it would be quite embarrassing for another member to find him reading fanfiction of him and Jimin.

He was mentally prepared to lie and say that a fan suggested to try reading a BTS fanfic, even though it wasn’t really the case. If he was really told to read one, he would read one that he isn’t part of. But here he is, reading a Jikook fanfiction.

Pretty soon, he door started to creak open. Jungkook was just about to finish the chapter, but then he heard a familiar voice saying his name.

Oh, shit.

Jungkook was mentally prepared (but kind of not) to deal with the other members, but he very stupidly forgot about Jimin.

Jungkook quickly scrambled to close the chapter, but ended up dropping his phone on the floor. Praying to God that he didn’t break it, Jungkook went to pick it up, only to be face to face with Jimin, holding his phone. Did he teleport or something?

“Um… here’s your phone. I just wanted to ask you where you hid the ice cream.” Jimin was about to hand Jungkook’s phone back, but stopped. “What were you doing so intently that you dropped your phone?”

Okay, what was Jungkook supposed to say? ‘Oh, I was just reading a fanfiction about us, and I didn’t want you to see because it is embarrassing as hell’? Of course not. He settled for something like “I was just surprised.”

Jimin didn’t look convinced. “I called your name three times.”

Okay, now Jungkook is screwed. 

While Jungkook was thinking of an excuse, Jimin was reading the fanfic open on Jungkook’s phone.

“I thought you didn’t like me.” 

“Can you put that down now? I can explain-”

“Okay.” Jimin put the phone down on the table. “Now you can explain.”

Usually, when someone says ‘I can explain’, they don’t end up explaining. Why did the world have to hate Jungkook so much?

“I kind of ship us.” Jungkook looked down at the floor, trying his best to avoid looking Jimin in the eye. 

“Well, why didn’t you just tell me? You know how much I like you too.”

“It’s just embarrassing! It feels weird to just tell you, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure about my feelings too. I read fanfiction, because it’s pretty entertaining, but also because I want to read about what am too scared to do in real life.”

Jimin laughed quietly. If Jungkook wasn’t so embarrassed, he would admit that it sounds beautiful. 

“You do realize that you just told me right now?

Jungkook groaned. “I’m just tired.”

Jimin shook his head exasperatedly. “You would’ve continued reading if I didn’t walk in.”

“No, really. I want to sleep.”

Jungkook expected Jimin to just walk out the room. What actually happened, was that Jimin leaned over, gave Jungkook a small peck on the lips and whispered, “I was not kidding every time I said that I liked you.” Then he walked out of the room.

Jungkook literally pinched himself to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming. 

AYEM: Alt. Ending Extension

As many of you know, I was very unhappy with the alternate ending of A Year Every Minute I posted. When I originally got the idea it was early on in the story, then when I looked back on it I realized everything was horribly out of character for Gaster as well as my version of Sans.

This isn’t a rewrite, but more of an extension. This picks up years after the alternate ending as an internal dialogue between Gaster and Sans and how they’ve been dealing with not only being freed from the Underground, but also learning how to adjust to a new life where they share a body. Originally I wanted the alternate ending to go a lot farther, but like I said it just wasn’t going to work out. So here is my second attempt at giving it a bit more closure.

I was also looking forward to writing this because it finally gives a little but of insight into my version of Chara. They don’t get much screen time in AYEM and appear as simply an evil, driving force, but I don’t like things to be quite that simple.

Bold is Gaster, normal font is Sans if it becomes confusing. Enjoy!


Well. We had done it. Together we killed the anomaly. The gamble had paid off and our timeline, as well as countless others, were saved. The human was able to reset the world once they were free from its control, and everything went right back to the way it had been.

Almost, anyway.

Neither of us were really banking on me sticking around. At least I wasn’t. I had thought everything would reset and I would go right back to the void.

But that wasn’t the case. I stuck around.

I wish I hadn’t.

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Author Interview -- mysilverylining
This week’s author interview is with the up and coming Veronica Mars fic writer, mysilverylining. Maybe you’ve heard of her? Duh. Of course you have! She’s currently got two WIPs. “Sometimes You Can’t Make it On Your Own,” a season one AU starting with 1.03, “Meet John Smith,” and “Neptune,” a future-fic that takes place five years after the finale. 
1. When you’re not writing fic, what are you doing?
I’m always writing fic.  Sure, sometimes it’s the same paragraphs, over and over again, for weeks in a row.  But whichever chapter I’m working on is always open on my task bar.  Judging and taunting me.  
Sometimes I sleep.  Sometimes I work.  I spend too much time commuting in my car.  I watch a gazillion TV shows, but always seem to miss everything important - hello, ADD.  I buy ridiculous kitchen gadgets I’ll never use and have no place to store (strawberry slicer, anyone?).  I start fanvids I’ll never finish.  I’m mostly ignored by my Aspie kid.  Used as furniture by one cat.  Stared at creepily by the other one (whom I’m convinced is plotting my murder).  
And Tumblr.  Always always Tumblr.  
2. Had you ever written before you started writing for Veronica Mars? What inspired you to start writing for VMars? 
I hadn’t even read any fanfiction before watching Veronica Mars.  I’d actually avoided reading ff for years.  
I binged all three seasons in a fever, and then went crazy online searching for fanvids and forum discussions, recaps and meta.  I’d never gone through show withdrawal like that before, and I remember feeling like nothing would fill that Veronica Mars shaped hole.    
One day, seeing a link to a highly recommended fic, I finally said “Fuck it,” and clicked.  Luckily, that fic happened to be “A Strange New Story Every Time”, which left such a strong impression that I started devouring all the fic I could find.  Why did I wait so long?  I’ve always made up stories in my head to help myself fall asleep, and Logan and Veronica started taking center stage.  
I started a dozen or so stories in a OneNote notebook.  Some were painfully awful.  Some, were promising enough that I still intend to complete them someday.  The first one I finished was this crazypants amalgamation of the Pilot, Credit Where Credit Due, and You Think You Know Somebody - all smushed-together on the same timeline - where Veronicatakes Logan up on his offer to “Come with”.  They end up solving the Chardo case and the Troy case on this long field trip to TJ, while snarking and squabbling the entire time.  Until…you know.  That one will never see the light of day, but it gave me an idea how much I love writing.  Especially that time period.      
The first fic I ever worked up the nerve to publish was ‘I Hate You Because’.  I would have been happy if four or five people had read and enjoyed it.  The response to that fic absolutely floored me, and gave me the encouragement to keep writing.      
3. Biggest Veronica Mars fanfiction pet peeve?   
I’m really not very hard to please.  I can find something to like in almost anything.  But there are a few things that irk me.
  • Logan acting like a Neanderthal who has a nervous breakdown every time Veronica leaves the house.  Canonically, the only time he ever worried about her job was after Mercer/Moe shaved her head.  Over-protectiveness is NOT Logan’s default setting.  He doesn’t mind being the cavalry, but in three seasons, he only tried to stop her from doing her job one time - after proof that she was being targeted.  Logan LOVES, admires, and respects Veronica as the badass P.I. she is.  I’ll forgive it in a story, if she’s had death threats or a stalker in-universe.  But if she’s just going out for a routine stakeout?  Nope.  
  • Overly neurotic characters.  Of course,they all have major issues, which should be explored and addressed.  They’re from Neptune after all.  But if those issues are like a black hole that sucks all of the joy out of the story, I. Just. Can’t.  
  • Logan trading his entire personality to be Veronica’s Generic CW love interest who always says and does the right thing.  Happens a lot in S1 fics where Logan learns of Veronica’s rape or difficulties after Lilly’s death, and completely forgets how to snark.  Jason Dohring’s expressive face can sell it, but in writing, Logan needs to have an edge.  He needs to be dramatic and a little pissy.  Morally gray.  Cocky.  The same goes for Dick with regards to Mac.  You can’t turn him into Piz, throw a “Dude” in every sentence, and expect me to accept it as Dick.
  • The word “ministrations”.  Acceptable if Veronica is cleaning Logan’s wounds or nursing him back to health, but takes me right out of a love scene every time.  Kills the mood, because it summons images of Neosporin, peroxide, and gauze pads.    
  • “The petite blonde”.  This phrase is like nails on a chalkboard to me when it’s used in place of a proper name or pronoun.  Same with “the older detective”, “the shorter boy”, “the younger sibling”, etc…  I’d rather see the name/pronoun overused, than to see this.  The exception would be when we’re reading about character(s) who haven’t yet been introduced by name.  Does this make me a horrible person?

4. Why do you think it is that Veronica Mars, out of all the shows out there, is the one that has wormed its way into your heart in such a profound way?  
I love Veronica to death.  I admire her and identify with her.  I root for her and cheer for her always.   
But Logan is my heart.  My muse.  The fictional love-of-my-life.  
No character has ever gotten under my skin like that jackass.  I want to write ALL of his stories.  Pre-series unbroken (merely fractured) Logan.  Pilot OPJ Logan.  Reluctant Veronica-stan Logan.  Angry self-destructive S2 Logan.  Maturing S3 Logan.  Rebuilding S4 Logan.  Future, healthy-member-of-society Logan.  Future re-OPJ’d Logan.  All of them.  
5. Season three of the series saw a number of hardcore fans give Rob Thomas the side-eye, and many left the fandom. Two part questions: a) what kept you sticking through season three? b) and is there anything you felt season three handled particularly well?
I’ve never hated S3 as much as most people do.  Sure, I hated the straw feminists, the keister egg rape, Tim Foyle, and his hideous wig.  But there was plenty of greatness in S3.    
Many of my all-time favorite Logan/Veronica moments are in Season 3.  I could spend forever watching 'Actual-Married-Couple' L/V.  Sharing meals.  Bantering.  Supporting each other.  They’re not acting on pure passion like in S1.  They know each other inside out.  They love each other.  They've chosen each other.  And it’s beautiful.  I HATED the Madison debacle, but I loved Every. Single. Other. Thing. between them.  I loved their happy scenes.  I loved their sad scenes.  Their fight scenes.  Even their post-breakup scenes (was their chemistry ever stronger?).  
Season 3 gave us perfect onscreen pairings.  Logan / Wallace, Veronica / Prof Landry, Veronica / Dean O'Dell, Logan / Heather Buttons, Mac / Max (So what?  I liked it), Piz / Desmond Fellows, Veronica / Dick, Veronica /Jeff Ratner (love him or hate him, he was the perfect snarky foil for Veronica), and my personal favorite, Logan / Mac.  
Season 3 ended with two stellar episodes, and set-up so many threads for an amazing Season 4.  I’m going to write that story someday, dammit!  Seriously.   
6. Were there any storylines in the series, movie, or now book that you started off loving but ended up not caring for? How would you have handled it differently?
That’s a hard one.  I won’t even touch on the straw feminists.  Everyone else has already said it, and probably better than I could.  This is a hard question, because the things I would most change - the Madison debacle for example - weren’t things I ever started off loving.  
The closest I can come to answering in the spirit of the question would be the S2 L/V/D triangle.  I didn’t start off loving it, but I was initially okay with V/D dating.  I felt that since they were “cruelly ripped apart by fate” according to the narrative, it was inevitable that they would try again eventually, and I wanted to just get it over with.  
As much as I love (and would hate to lose) those flashback scenes from the Summer of LoVe, I think the better story might have been to have Wallace be the one at the door.  I would have handled it differently by Veronica actuallynoticing Duncan’s transgressions, calling him on his shit, and kicking him and his Madonna/Whore complex to the curb.  Veronica should have had the epiphany that NORMAL wasn’t really doing it for her.    
I would NOT have had Duncan ride off into the sunset, halo still shining.  I would have had him stay in Neptune and battle for custody of his daughter.  I would have had him experience consequences for his choices just like Wallace, Weevil, and Logan. I would have had him embrace his noir roots and “go dark”.  Become a villain.      
7. You are currently posting chapters for two stories: a season one AU and a future fic. Are there any challenges inherent in writing two stories so different from one another at the same time?
I think the biggest challenge is remembering to use Past Tense when writing Sometimes.  Present tense is the natural fit for me, and I really have to force myself to switch.  
Characterization is not a problem between Neptune and Sometimes.  
Where I’m actually struggling now is in keeping Neptune separate from movie and book canon.  
One of the main premises of Neptune is how people adapt and change based on the events in their life.  How adversity can bring out the very best or very worst in people.  Logan has a very detailed and complex backstory that will eventually explain exactly how he came to be the person he is.  So does Veronica.  And Madison.  Mac has dealt with the death of her bio-mom.  Wallace is divorced.  Characters that haven’t even been introduced yet have gone through profound changes.  (Not Dick - he’s the same).  
The changes in each of these characters are very important, as they speak to the actions and decisions they’ve taken and will take in the story’s future.       
Where I struggle is that during editing, I keep finding myself trying to align characterization to new canon - which would be disastrous to my story. 
My Veronica is more haunted than new!canon V.  My Gia hasn’t experienced the same horrible circumstances as new!canon Gia.  My Logan is similar, but is a bit cockier.  
I just have to hope my readers can understand that this was plotted and outlined well before the movie was ever announced, so it is what it is, and the characters are who they need to be.  Even when it conflicts with what we know now.   
8. What is one moment or scene from any of your fics that you’re really proud of? What is it about that specific moment?
There have been one or two scenes that made me laugh so hard I almost cried when I was writing them.  There’s a scene I wrote for Neptune months ago, that probably won’t be published for many more months, that makes me bawl my fucking eyes out.  
For my published works, I would have to go with Chapter 11 of Sometimes.  It’s the chapter that contains the car chase - which gives me an adrenaline rush, and Duncan’s long flashback to the L/V/D origin story - which makes me physically ache for Veronica (and Logan).  
My favorite stories are the ones that create visceral reactions while reading.  Ones that give me butterflies in my tummy or make my gut clench from pain.  PetPluto is a master at this.  Everything she writes creates this kind of reaction in me.  Ghostcat as well.  But I rarely experience it reading my own stuff - except for that Chapter 11.
9. Pick a character or two from Veronica Mars that you write for. What are three things you like to keep in mind when writing for that specific character(s)?
Good question.  I don’t really have any hard and fast rules for characterizations.  With Logan, I do try to keep in mind (1) what’s going on inside his head? where is his internal energy?  (2) who is his audience and what kind of performance is he putting on for them? (3) what are his hands doing?     
10. It’s the year 2030. Where are Veronica and Logan and what are they up to?
Snarkily ever after.  Married - for practical reasons.  Being told “family-only” by the Navy every time she tried to get any information about Logan, was not cutting it for Veronica, and Logan will take her any way he can get her.  Two kids - the first, a result of an over-enthusiastic reunion.  The second one planned - once they realize they aren’t actually miserable failures as parent.  
Solid.  Nine years apart puts all of their problems in perspective, as does two high-risk careers, age, and wisdom.  Of course, they still squabble occasionally.  For the fun of it.  And for the making up.           
Veronica is still detectiving.  Logan runs a part-time flight school (for his love of flying), and provides muscle for Veronica’s cases.
He still makes her say “Woof!”  

anonymous asked:

Can you please do a short fic of the reader being friends with Calvin and they're just messing off on the couch and the reader is playing with Calvin's hands, putting his hands on her face and doing all kinds of cute stuff then BOOM Calvin kisses her and it's just... All cutesy. :')

Okay, I’m going to try to write this in half an hour, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. If I don’t finish it, I will still post it unfinished and you can read up until the point I write to. I will finish it when I park at work (hopefully, depends on traffic). Sorry for being trash at having a consistent schedule; I’ll let Cal be the reliable one when it comes to content posting, lol. Be sure to let me know what you guys think :)


LeafyIsHere Fanfiction - Gentle Touches

He only wanted to be friends, right? So why did that happen? Why is your heart racing and every time you close your eyes, you remember what happened vividly. The feeling of his lips on yours, soft and gentle. His smiling face, changed to one of concern when you just got up and left. You didn’t know how to react when everything happened, how were you supposed to respond to something like that? 

It was just the two of you, sitting on the couch in his house. You had both become bored with the movie on the television. Every week, the two of you would make it a point to get together to hang out. Busy with making content, it was good to get out of the house and hang out with someone. You and Calvin made it a point to simply be friends. It was supposed to be easier this way, so why did you feel a bit of remorse every time you left his side?

Bored and with nothing to do, you both were chatting about your week. You were sitting, facing each other. Taking one of his hands, you are simply messing with the different fingers and turning the hand back and forth to look at it. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?” Calvin says, laughing at your antics. You chuckle and respond, “I have no idea, I just feel the need to hold your hands, okay?” He laughs as you compare your hand size to his, and goes on to say, “You’re so weird.” You simply return a clearly fake hurt look on your face and hold his hand against your cheek. “How dare you? That comment was harsh, don’t make me expose you” you say and threaten, sarcastically. You hold one of his hands up to your face, carefully looking at some of the lines. Then, out of no where, he boops your nose. He is laughing at your expression and you laugh with him saying, “Really, Cal? Just let me be weird.” 

You are now holding both of his hands up to either side of your face. Clearly, you are trying to see the similarities and differences between each of the hands. “You know your hands are actually really soft, you know that?” You say. Looking up and into his eyes, you are caught off guard as his hands leave yours and grip either side of your face. He pulls you in and plants a firm, but soft kiss on your lips. You melt into the kiss, but draw away with a slight regret of not taking in more of him. “We shouldn’t do this, I should go” You say, getting up and shoving various breadsticks into your purse. “Y/N, wait” He says, getting up to follow after you. Completely ignoring him, you say, “Thanks for inviting me over, guess we’ll talk later!” You close the door behind you and slightly in his face. “Fuck me,” Calvin says as you slip out of his reach. 

And now here you are, still thinking about everything that happened. How were you supposed to respond? He only wanted to be friends though, right?


Them cliff hangers, am i rite? Lol, sorry! (but not really) I have to go to work now!! Hope you guys enjoyed and are having a lovely day! Let me know what you guys think and are looking to see next <3 100 Notes and I’ll hold your hands ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Saddest Day.

Hi. This is Claire’s sister, Natalia. Today has been the hardest day of me and my family’s lives, because very early this morning, my beautiful sister Claire lost her long battle with cancer.

I don’t think she wanted anyone on this site to know about her illness, because so many people in the past have treated her differently because of it. I am writing this because I know how much “Zalfiness” meant to her. It was a place where everyone was kind and accepting, a place she could be more than just a cancer patient. Writing had always been her passion, and writing these fanfictions was a way to escape from reality and do one of the many things she loved. I would walk into her hospital room sometimes and see her smiling away at some of your compliments on her writing, so that is why I think it is important that I write this informing you all about what happened. Each and every one of you made her so happy throughout times when it was difficult to find happiness, so I think you all need to know the truth, and I would forget if I didn’t write this so soon. So, on behalf of me and my sister, thank you so much for adding a little happiness to the last couple months of my beautiful sister’s life. I will log on again and tell you a little bit more about everything when I feel like I am able to. I do not know a lot of the people she was closest to, but I know that Claire would want me to acknowledge pointless-zoella because, from what I know, she has been Claire’s closest friend over the last couple of months. You, and all the many other blogs that cared and hopefully will continue to care about Claire, are the reason she found so much acceptance on here. Sorry this is so brief, but it is difficult writing just this much and I can not imagine myself writing anymore. Somewhere on a brightest star, Claire thanks you for your support. Good night <3 

anonymous asked:

Can you give me tips for writing?? Please and thank you!

I’ve never given writing tips before so I will try my best, and I hope SOME of this helps :)

I am forever writing, no matter what I am doing i have my ipod or a notebook with me AT ALL TIMES. No matter if the idea that i get is going to turn into an actual story/one shot, I write it down. 

So TIP 1: Write down any little idea that comes to your head, even if you don’t want to do much with it. Usually, when I am writing I am able to combine many different ideas into one project.

Music I have actually read, classical supposedly, is supposed to help get your mind into the right “mindset” to be creative. I tried classical but it didn’t do anything for me. Usually I make a playlist of sad music for sad stories and upbeat for like fast pacing and such, I make the playlist then just go and write.

TIP 2: listen to music, of course this can really be have some sort of background noise but make sure its not something that is going to distract you.

I use tumblr and pinterest to find prompts, both dialogue and those “use this scene to create…” I have a folder on my laptop of nothing but prompts. When I am having a “sluggish day” I go and choose a prompt and I just write. Even if it results in less than a paragraph, I write.

TIP 3: Don’t be afraid to take things from other works, even if it’s a line from your favorite book, and make something that is you. Something that fits things you enjoy writing about.

TIP 4: Don’t pressure yourself. That is the best way, I have found, to get writer’s block. Sitting there and trying to force something will only result in you getting angry and annoyed and it will result in you not being creative.

TIP 5: Do not let your inner critic make you believe that everything you write is crap. This is something I struggle with daily (it’s the main reason i have yet to write any actual piece of writing in a very long time that is made up of only my ideas instead of being fanfiction and what not for tv/books). We are our own worst critics, and most of the time it’s lying. 

TIP 6: If you are struggling to get an idea across, maybe you don’t like what you’ve written, don’t be afraid to ask someone whose opinion you know can be trusted and open for their advice. I personally have a select handful of people who read EVERY thing I write, even if they aren’t in that fandom.

TIP 7: NEVER run yourself ragged that writing isn’t fun for you anymore. This happened to me this past November, so much so that I nearly took a break from the blog. Creativity should ALWAYS be fun, even if its for school or for money.

ALWAYS HAVE FUN, NEVER DOUBT, AND JUST WRITE.

Like I said above, I hope at least one or two of these are what you were looking for. If there was something specific, please feel free to message me again with whatever it is and I will do my best to answer it! <3 :)

nothing lasts forever - chapter 2

Summary: after 8 years of marriage, Taylor Swift and Calvin Harris are in the middle of a divorce being closely watched by the media. Between protecting their kids from the attention and moving on with the divorce, life (and truths) can be tougher than expected for these two superstars.

Chapter 1

Keep reading

I know it must seem like I’m not writing anything, when really, the truth is I have been writing SO MUCH, but very little has been fanfiction (the next chapter of AHOD is about half done? Which is good. And I have the next letter of Unshaken by the Darkness percolating. And I know what will happen the next time I have time to work on Any Four Walls). 

I love fanfiction. I really, really do. And I’m not planning on leaving fanfiction or fandom any time soon. But man, when the original writing comes fast and furious? You have to hang on hard. I went through a couple of years of fighting for every. single. word. of original fiction; it’s so damned exciting to have the words flowing as effortlessly as they are right now. (And, oh GOD, I love this book and these characters SO VERY MUCH. It is a DELIGHT spending time with them every day.)

So, I miss you, my lovelies, and I apologize for making you wait so long. I just wanted to update you a little, and let you know I haven’t forgotten you, or the stories I’m in the process of (slowly at the moment, I grant you) sharing with you <3