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somerpmemes · 4 years

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Wizards of Waverly Place S1 Starters

Change as needed

“I don’t care about you, or your shoes.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you’re gonna back me up on this.”

“Yeah, I don’t see how this could possibly go wrong.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. You’re becoming more like me every day.”

“Now that we’ve got safety out of the way, let’s rock.”

“This is your size, go try it on.”

“I told you we should’ve read the manual!”

“Why didn’t you kiss her?!”

“Look, ___, you know a lot of stuff about stuff people don’t care about.”

“I find it hard to believe that you think I find that hard to believe.”

“If I go back in time and look into a crystal ball, will I see me looking into this crystal ball?”

“Why don’t you take my advice, lots of people do!”

“You keep saying you know things and you don’t.”

“Well, I guess if you break a rule 17 times, an eighteenth doesn’t make a difference.”

“Alright, for educational purposes, we’ll do this.”

“You don’t know what goes in my mouth!”

“I told you not to trust me with a complicated plan like this!”

“I’m taking this all as a yes.”

“Who do I have to kick in the can to get some nachos?”

“Oh, this isn’t as fun a game as I thought.”

“We should get our stories straight before the owner comes in.”

“It’s so hard being me.”

“Okay, dude, you gotta stop doing that.”

“You’re making it so hard to be excited about something!”

“You’re kinda scaring me a little, but I’m feeling a lot of respect.”

“What’s more courteous than magic? Nothing.”

“I don’t believe it, your misguided plan actually worked!”

“What!? How!? When!? Who!?”

“Dangerous is good.”

“That was never funny.”

“You are not gonna guilt me into this.”

“What would you crash into in a cloud?”

“You don’t learn by teaching, you learn by doing.”

“We’ll talk later about why that doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I don’t know what you did, but thanks.”

“Remember? We don’t like each other.”

“Oh, but that was back when we were young and foolish.”

“I don’t mean to sound unsupportive but ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, WOMAN!?”

“Can you at least stop shaking your leg, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Oh honey, you sound like you want to talk about your problems.”

“I thought you were gonna be supportive.

“What are you wearing those gloves for?”

“___ looks way prettier than me! I’m gonna talk her into a bad haircut.”

“Oh, now we’re doing short jokes?”

“You know what I wanna do? I wanna break this.”

“I know this isn’t going the way you wanted to but this had to happen.”

“I’ll always protect you, it’s what we do.”

“Now, what do you want to do with that cake?”

“Now beat it, kid. I’m in the middle of the sale.”

“Here’s a roll of quarters, knock yourself out.”

“I’m allergic to sadness.”

“Come on, ___, you picked now to be responsible?”

“Look kid, you played the game and you lost.”

“Do you have a better idea? Didn’t think so.”

“It has been a pleasure scamming you.”

“Have you ever really considered the concept of infinity?”

“Don’t act like that’s a real thing, I just made that up.”

“Can’t you just look the other way?”

“Just stay in character and scream when it’s your turn.”

“There are some things in this life that you can never unsee.”

“This place could be burning and I wouldn’t even know it.”

“I like the way I deal with problems.”

“Stop trying to be cool.”

“Your mess, your responsibility.”

“You are so undisciplined.”

“Great, we’re accessorizing ugly.”

“Are you locked out?”

“That wasn’t really meant for you, sorry.”

“This place is a freak show.”

“Is there someone you want to compare me to?”

“I guess it’s just you, me, and destiny.”

“I’m a walking health code violation.”

“Can someone please stop me!?”

“You always know the right wrong thing to do.”

“I’m gonna be your good luck charm.”

“This stuff is starting to burn, is that bad?”

“Either you’re really excited or your underwear’s on too tight.”

“Wow, you’re mad inside and out.”

“Relax, I’ve been in way worse situations than this.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Only a stupid person would think that my stupid thing was stupider than your stupid thing!”

“This is my problem, not yours. Don’t let me drag you down.”

“I deserve whatever punishment you’re about to give me.”

“Well, you’re unusually opinionated.”

“You have got to stop pitching that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve rewired my brain so they come across as compliments.”

“There are some times you should lie, to me and everyone. This is one of those times.”

“Like I’m not gonna tell anyone about that on the internet.”

“This is gonna be a great story to tell.”

“___, leave my face alone.”

“It’s my party, I can cancel it if I want to.”

“If I see so much as a scratch on that bike, someone’s gonna eat spokes!”

“If I can make salsa, I can dance the salsa.”

“There’s only one way out: we have to break each other’s legs.”

“These high heels are lame, get them off me.”

“Wow that was lame and I’m ashamed.”

“Is there something wrong with your neck?”

“You’ll supervise me, I’ll supervise you, how is that unsupervised?”

“If I don’t see it, I can say I didn’t see it.”

“I think you fell in love with yourself.”

“I can’t think of anything wrong with me.”

“Sloppy, sloppy work.”

“I’m nobody’s second choice because I’m a prize.”

“I don’t know why we’re nodding.”

“We are in no way okay.”

“Wait a minute, are those shoes too small?”

“___, just say it’s cool.”

#long post #wizards of waverly place #rp #rp starters #starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme

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darley1101 · 5 years

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Missing Pieces (The Haunting of Braidwood Manor)

Title: Missing Pieces

Book: The Haunting of Braidwood Manner

Character: Hannah/MC with mention of the Waverly family and a few Freshmen characters

Rating: PG-13

Warning/Trigger: Mourning, loss.

A/N: This goes out to @kennaxval and @strangerofbraidwood . Tags are at the end of the story. If you would like to be added, moved, or removed please let me know. If you enjoyed the story please consider giving it a re-blog so others might enjoy it as well.

Turning up the collar of her cream colored wool coat, Hannah hurried down the crowded sidewalk towards the little flower shop on the corner. It had taken some smooth talking, along with the promise of a glowing online review, but the owner had come through for her. “Be right there,” a frail voice called out when Hannah tumbled into the little shop. A few minutes later a petite elderly woman with owl like eyes and a white top knot appeared from behind a curtain, a smile on her wizened face. “How might I help you?”

“I placed an order for Hannah.” Tucking her lips between her teeth, Hannah waited with baited breathe. 'Please don't have sold my flowers, I know its Valentine's Day and I'm late getting here but those flowers are important,' she thought, her heart constricting at the thought. The recipients wouldn't know whether she brought a single flower or a full dozen each but Hannah would know. She'd made a promise to herself and come hell or high water she would honor it.

“Ah yes!” The elfin lady's face lit up. “Five dozen red roses. I have them in the back.” Without another word, she ducked behind the curtain. Moments later she returned, five beautifully arranged bouquets carefully set upright in a wooden crate. “Thought this might make it easier for you,” she beamed. “Must some very important people for you go through all this trouble.”

“The most important.” Emotion constricted her throat. It never got easier. Someone had told her that it would but they had lied. 'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,' she silently chanted as she handed over her credit card. Two hundred and fifty dollars on flowers would hurt, and she would be paying on them for months, but they were the only thing she could do for the people she loved. In an ideal world she would have been able to select the perfect gifts and enjoy the excitement on their faces when they opened them, but Hannah had learned and accepted that there was nothing ideal about the world in which she lived. It was a cruel, lonely place.

The florist offered her a gentle smile, her gnarled fingers raising in a quick goodbye when Hannah hoisted the crate into her arms. “Do come back.”

Hannah murmured that she would before ducking her head and carrying her crate of flowers out the door. The quiet, gravity of how she was spending Valentine's Day weighed on her as she made her way towards the older Toyota she had purchased with a prayer and a thousand bucks Victor had loaned her. She carefully set the crate in the passenger seat, wincing when she glanced at the time on the dash. There was only two hours before her shift at the coffee shop. Her heart screamed that it wasn't nearly enough time while her mind reminded her it was the perfect amount of time. It wasn't good to dwell where she was headed.

Saint Michael's looked the way it always did. A picturesque cathedral that looked cozy despite its size, and air of welcome about the cemetery tucked next to it. Sniffing and then clearing her throat, Hannah gently gathered one of the bouquets in the crook of her arm. She murmured a greeting to the groundskeeper and Widow Harrington before focusing on the headstone to the left of the statue of Saint Michael himself. “Happy Valentine's Day Jonathon,” she said softly, crouching before the marble slab that was etched with her brother's basic information. Birth. Death. Loving Brother and Son. And only a dash to represent the life he had lived. “I know, red roses on Valentine's Day is so contrived but hey, I wouldn't be your annoying little sister if I didn't intentionally do things to piss you off.” She squeezed her eyes shut, willing to the tears to disappear. It was a useless plea. The salty drops were already running down her cheeks. “Your friend Zig put in an application at the coffee shop,” she whispered. Crouching, she placed the bouquet in the urn attached to the headstone. “I told him I would put in a good word for him. He was always nice. A little hot headed at times but nice.” Her fingers shook as she fluffed out the arrangement, shifting the stems until they looked the way she wanted. “I'm supposed to hang out with this girl Kaitlin and her roommates after work tonight. We're going to try to make it to the midnight release of that new wizard movie. It's more your kind of movie then mine but...I told you I would try and I'm trying.” Taking a deep breathe, she laid her palm across his name. “I love you Jonathon, and I miss you more and more each day.” She blinked back several tears and let out another huff of air. “Don't forget to look after Eleanor, Thomas, Clarissa, and Simon for me. They're our family now too.”

Clearing her throat, Hannah stood and hurried back towards her car. There were those who thought she was crazy for wanting to spend Valentine's Day wandering from cemetery to cemetery, leaving expensive flowers that would wilt and die. What they thought didn't matter. Valentine's Day was supposed to be about love, about reminding people how important they were and even if it didn't make sense to anyone else, what she was doing made sense to her. During the thirty minute drive to Braidwood Manor she went over the things she wanted to tell the Waverly's. She'd uncovered so many things that they would have wanted to know and it sucked that she couldn't actually tell them. On New Year's she'd tried. She'd let herself be conned by some gypsy who swore they could commune with the dead. Hannah might have bought into it if the woman hadn't gone into some spiel about their peaceful deaths. Murder and suicide were never peaceful. 'Stop thinking about that,' Hannah ordered, blinking back tears as she turned her car off the main road and onto the seldom traveled lane would take her to the family cemetery where Eleanor and her siblings were buried. 'Remember your promise. You're only going to focus on the good.'

“Happy Valentine's Day,” she called out, her voice echoing in the woods that surrounded the small plot. “I tried to get a different color for each of you but the florist was only able to promise red, so...I'm sorry Thomas but you're going to have to get over having the same as Simon.” She walked around the car to retrieve the crate from the passenger seat. “I have some news that will make you smile Clarissa but first...” Hannah stopped in front of the first of four identical headstones. Eleanor Waverly. She dropped to her knees and traced the name with the tip of her finger. 'I should have said yes,' she silently sobbed,' when you offered to stay I should have been selfish and said yes.' It had seemed too good to be true, nobody got a second chance at life. Or did they? Hannah found herself questioning that more and more. She'd read some things, met some people, specifically an Egyption antiquities dealer named Kamilah and her girlfriend/assistant Lily, that made her think maybe there was more to life after death than, well, death. “I discovered something you would find interesting. There's a Waverly Hall at Hartfeld. I had forgotten all about it because I'm not an English major. I did a little digging and it turns out the funds to build it were donated by your father! Since you...none of you...had the opportunity to attend college he had a hall built in your honor. There's even a plaque with your names on it.” Shifting slightly, she reached for a bouquet and laid it at the base of the headstone. “I wish I could give you these in person. I mean, if you were here I probably would have done something a little more personal like baked a cake or made your favorite dinner.” She paused, closing her eyes. “I should have told you that I loved you,” she murmured. “I should have been brave, like you, and just...” She shook her head. There was no use in dwelling on what she could not change.

“Clarissa,” she choked out, scooting on to the next head stone. “I found out the most fascinating thing. Do you remember that boy you were telling me about? The one you had a mad crush on but never had the chance to tell?” Reaching back, Hannah dragged the crate towards her. “I think he might have a crush on you as well because...” smiling sadly, she placed another bouquet near Clarissa's headstone, “...he had a daughter named Clarissa. I tried to find out more information, like did any of his ancestors know how his wife and him came about that name...and in the process I got to actually meet your namesake! She's an elementry school teacher in Northbridge. She says her father named her after a dear friend of his that died too soon. He didn't forget you Clarissa. He made sure you were remembered.” As she had done with Eleanor's, she traced Clarissa's name, her heart tightening with each letter. Her hand fell away and she made herself move on to the next headstone. Thomas.

“I'm not sure if you heard me telling Eleanor about Waverly Hall at Hartfeld, but that isn't the only memorial on campus. My friend Kaitlin is a music major and every day she practices piano in the Thomas Waverly room. Your father did that for you...just you.” The crate was almost empty, save for the two bouquets for the boys. It hurt to pull out the flowers, to lay them in the dirt that covered where Thomas's body rest. “When I found that out I had to tell her about you. What an amazing musician you were and how you probably would have become famous if you hadn't died so young.” It was hard to say what Thomas's musical future would have been but Hannah liked to think he would have become a household name. “And Simon,” she forced herself to lay the last of the flowers against his headstone, “I found your insect collection in our science department. College students marvel over it and the fact that it was built by someone so young makes it even more awe inspiring.”

Rising to her feet, Hannah struggled against the sob tightening her throat. She had known this would be hard, had thought she was prepared for the onslaught of emotions, but like so many times before she'd been wrong. “I miss you,” she whispered, her eyes welling with a fresh onslaught of tears. “I miss you more than you could possibly know.” Sniffling, she took a deep breathe and let her eyes wander from headstone to headstone. “I...I have to go now but I promise I'll be back soon.” She took a shuddering breathe, whispered her love once more, and then made her way back to the car. If she hurried, she would just make it to work on time and then after..after she would try to pretend her heart wasn't shattered in a million pieces. 'Who knows,' an all to familiar voice whispered on the wind, 'maybe you'll find love again.'

#choices fanfiction #darley1101 writes #choices the haunting of braidwoodmanor

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sunsetcurve · 5 years

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Top 5 Disney/Nick shows? (It can be two lists or just one, it’s up to you 💝)

oh man oh man oh man

okay i’m cheating by separating it into two lists because like,,, i can’t pick sdgkjsdf. honestly for favorite nick shows the order seriously depends, because sometimes i’m really feeling certain shows and sometimes others. also a lot of my experience has been influenced by the fandom; for example, i think for me personally, i like knight squad and the thundermans better as shows, but the hd fandom is bigger and has expanded the universe a lot more from canon. that being said, objectively my top five nick shows are:

1) the thundermans, because that show had the best overarching plotline and development of any nick show to date and you all can fight me on that one. there were so many things i loved about it: the superpowers, the family focus, the humor, but especially the growth of the characters...like...the development was honestly unparalleled. i could go on about it for hours. i won’t, but i could.

2) knight squad, because that show had so much freaking potential. a lot of it was untapped. but like. every single character in that show was so freaking well made. none of them were flat, even the antagonists. it was feminist and diverse without trying to be. it said “fuck toxic masculinity”. it had one of the best romantic set-ups i have ever seen in a kids show, okay? even if it didn’t pan out, the potential of that show, like...god. my heart.

3) icarly, because it’s a forever favorite. this was one of my favorite shows growing up. i freaking loved watching it. all of the characters are freaking fantastic, and the bond between them all is So Good. I think it did a really amazing job of being genuinely hilarious but also confronting drama and emotions and creation wise it is hands down the best nick show.

4) henry danger, which like...duh. honestly the best thing about henry danger was probably getting to watch these stupid kids grow up. i joined pretty late into the series, but it was so freaking fun to watch them get into shenanigans and bond and have all these stupid moments together. i think i place it lower on the list mostly because it’s dominated by humor and i’m a person who loves emotional stuff, but it still did a fantastic job of developing the characters and narrative. also, the ships and the fandom are >>>>

5) victorious as another long-time favorite. i honestly haven’t rewatched this recently but i used to be obsessed with it as a kid. it was so funny and was another one of those shows that had really amazing friendships and balanced humor and drama and emotions really really well. and the music. i was obsessed with the soundtrack.

btr is an honorable mention

aaand disney shows:

1) wizards of waverly place will be my favorite disney show until the day that i die, okay? it’s one of my favorite shows from my childhood, period. my bi ass was in love with justin and alex. it had magic, family bonding, cute romances, amazing characters, fun plot lines, but also intense plot lines, action, drama, you name it. it had werewolves and vampires! my magic loving ass LIVES for that shit!!!

2) girl meets world and all i have to say about this one is...my kids...my children...my babies...i love them all so much. the bonds on that show, man. familial or friendship or romance or whatever, they were so strong and sweet and fghsjhkjfs this show made me cry more than any other disney/nick show ever.

3) lab rats like man i complain so much about how this show went downhill from season 4 and into elite force but in it’s early days it was such a cool and novel concept and like i am SUCH a sci-fi/superhero kid (if you can’t tell from the rest of this list) and i loved it. it was so funny and had some really interesting plot lines that genuinely made me like...freaked out and excited and scared and it was awesome.

4) my babysitter’s a vampire and do i even have to explain myself??? like. once again. magic. vampires. supernatural creatures of all different shapes and sizes. fucking. benny and sarah, man. the friend-group-united-by-a-common-goal trope. i fucking love that show and it will never fail to be god tier. it deserved better.

5) austin & ally and it may or may not be entirely because ross lynch is the light of my life and i love him. but honestly, it was a hilarious and really fun show, and all the music in was just...amazing.

there are so many more i could put on the disney list but kim possible and sonny with a chance are honorable mentions for sure

also, sorry this got SUPER long, i’m just passionate about these shows sdghjfksjd. thank you for the ask!

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spaceshipkat · 5 years

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I've run out of tv shows to watch,,, do you have anything you'd recommend?

I DO INDEED BUT THIS LIST WILL BE LONG BC I AM IN A RAMBLING MOOD TONIGHT OH MY GOD I NEED TO STOP WITH THE ALL CAPS

sorry about that. i actually started answering this ask eeeeeons ago, but then tumblr crashed and i lost the entire post, so i had to set it aside for the time being. nevertheless, i am finally here

1) Black Sails:

to date, it is one of the most inclusive shows on TV, and now the entire show is done so you don’t have to wait between seasons. not only are there several canon wlw relationships, the main character Flint is bi (some argue gay, but i’m not sure bc it’s never fully clear), Silver is eventually disabled and he proves that strength is not in a body with all of its limbs but what you do with that body and the brain it contains (it’s a lesson i have to teach myself a lot thanks to my fucked up hand), an endgame relationship is between a white man and a black woman, it is chock-full of badass female characters who come in all difference sizes of strength, there’s a pretty spectacular polyamorous relationship, Anne Bonny exists and she is my queen, i ship SilverFlint and yes it’s a crackship sorry…there’s more, but this could take up the entire ask so i’ll stop.

trigger warnings: it’s incredibly graphic in sex, violence, and gore, and there is a lot of nudity (even male nudity! take that, GOT, Black Sails isn’t afraid to show a dick or boobs)

2) Wynonna Earp:

guys i binged the first two season in a matter of days bc this show is just fucking amazing. there’s a canon f/f relationship (wayhaught is just asdhakghakafd) that is not relegated to sex symbols (they don’t even have sex until much later into the show and it’s not glorified bc Emily Andras knows what she’s doing). Doc Holliday is in it and he’s a big soft gooey boy who needs protection and just let him have some dynamite is that too much to ask. i will die for Wynonna. the sister relationship between Wynonna and Waverly is up there with Sam and Dean in terms of how much they hurt me physically. it’s fairly dark and fairly scary, even if the animation is kinda silly. also, they actually bring in a pregnancy plot and i fucking loved it. it’s so rare for a show to manage that with grace.

3) Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries:

Phryne for president, yo. Dot is fantastic, Hugh is fantastic, Mac is a lesbian queen, Jack will kill me, and Phrack (Phryne and Jack) have reinvented slow burn romance. this is a hill i will die on go watch the show. there are only three seasons and there’s some issues with the third season (they basically shove the side characters away so their stories don’t matter as much, but i think that had more to do with how short the season was in comparison to the others).

4) I Love Lucy:

okay yes this one is from the 1950s but i grew up watching this show (my mom did as well, so she passed that gene on to me and my eldest brother) and Lucy Ricardo is my lord and savior. fun fact: the laugh track from I Love Lucy is the laugh track for all shows that have laugh tracks bc the laughs were perfect. go watch it and come chat with me later bc i can hold conversations in Lucy quotes. (like supernatural has a gif for everything, Lucy has a quote for everything)

5) Peaky Blinders:

like Black Sails, this show has a lot of graphic violence and sex, but it is so good and still remains one of my favorite shows. it handles PTSD really well, and is dark and twisty and Tommy Shelby is too pure. the relationship he has with his family is too good for words, bc even when they fight they’re still utterly loyal to each other. it does some questionable things (for example, it romanticizes an emotionally abusive and manipulative relationship), but it’s overall incredibly twisty and dark and engrossing.

trigger warnings: violence, gore, drug and alcohol consumption

6) Supernatural:

if you have ever even just glanced at my blog, it’s clear that i really love Supernatural. there’s no one season in particular i enjoy more than the others, since i tend to just like episodes throughout rather than as a whole. when the show started, it did some questionable things (such as queerbaiting) but it’s gotten infinitely better in recent years. there have been many canonical queer relationships (one confirmed just in last week’s episode, a f/f pairing of secondary characters who are practically mains), the female representation has gotten a lot better (aka it doesn’t kill off its female characters willy-nilly), Sam is a treasure now that he’s moved beyond the annoying little brother stage (i know people will misread that, so let me be clear: i have always loved Sam, but as he reminds me of my younger sister, he used to have that “ugh younger siblings” relationship with me, but as he’s grown up into his own person, he’s much better imo), Cas is a cuddlebug, i will die for Dean, destiel gives me life, Jody and Donna are too precious for this world, i’ll stop now.

(yes this gif is from an actual episode in the show, it’s not from the gag reels)

7) Grantchester:

it’s another murder mystery show, but i love it regardless. Sidney (a vicar) and Geordie (a police inspector) have such a great friendship and when they hugged i died bc it was too pure, one of the secondary characters is gay and there’s a canon m/m relationship by the end of season 3, Amanda is such a cool character, as is Margaret, who deserves so much better, as does Cathy. it’s a calming sort of show, while still being incredibly interesting

8) Downton Abbey

and i’ll end here bc this is getting way too long, hence the cut ^^^. everyone and their mother has either watched or heard of Downton Abbey, but i love this show beyond words. Lady Mary is definitely my favorite character, largely bc she’s unlikable from beginning to end but she still has so much growth as a character and her arc is one i can’t get enough of. i mean there are a ton of amazing things in this show (although i really don’t like how they treat the lone gay character, though he does have a happy ending; and Lord Grantham is far too sexist), but Lady Mary is up there for a fav character, as is the Dowager Countess who could insult me every time she sees me and i’d thank her bc she’s so fantastic

#ask #anonymous #show recommendations #black sails #wynonna earp #i love lucy #downton abbey #peaky blinders #grantchester #supernatural #miss fisher's murder mysteries #tw: queer

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written-in-sunshine · 6 years

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Think Before I Talk - Garth/Blaise Menelaus - SFWish

Title: Think Before I Talk Author: Donnie Setting: Centaur Plains Pairing: Garth/Blaise Menelaus Characters: Garth, Blaise Menelaus Genre: Romance/Humor Rating: T Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1768 Type of Work: One-Shot, Summer Festival Piece Status: Complete Warnings: Alcohol Use, Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Pining, Pre-Slash, Fluff Summary: Blaise had to try, no matter how nervous he was. AN: Garth does not belong to me. He belongs to @nobis-deus-caritas-est/JD, my fiance. Blaise, and the writing, belongs to me, however. JD did the editing for this! I hope you guys enjoy! Think Before I Talk ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Never in his life had Blaise thought that the gentle tinkle of the shells wrapped in the wreath on his head would have been so calming. The little braid of kelp down the back, lined with the smaller ones, helped to play a pretty little melody that made his trek to the Centaur Plains that much more cathartic. It always felt good to slink on over, his tail propelling him forward with its smooth, fluid movements. Athena Lagoon wished it was as smooth as he thought he looked when he wound over the little landbridge between the two territories.

When he’d first started slithering over the invisible barrier away from the safe cover of the swamp and into the sudden, frighteningly open plains, it had felt secret. Wrong. He’d grown to his young adult life in the swamp with his mother, and when he’d finally felt safe enough leaving her alone, the first thing he’d done was run for the hills. Plains. Wide, open spaces were like some kind of quietly frowned upon, guilt ridden desire to him. Nobody would have believed him, nobody would have liked hearing about it, nobody would have let him leave again. At least, that had been what he’d thought. These ideations of being so naughty going to another place only intensified when he became entirely entranced by the Centaurs. Their movements were clunky and awkward in comparison to his own fluid ones, but they had a certain power to them, a commanding nature and a feeling of superiority. Their heads raised high, their muscles on full display, ripping beneath pelt and skin alike. He’d never been so surrounded by the noxious beauty of a different nature as long as he’d been alive. Sure, nagas had their own majesty, but this was something unprecedented. They weren’t filthy, or even all that bad. Awkward, maybe, but awe-inspiring. That same day, he’d seen him. It was impossible for him to describe the sight of the bulky creature as anything more than majestic. He pulled along a plough so large that it tilled several mounds of dirt at once. It easily covered the whole field in just a few passes, and the beautiful centaur did little more than break a sweat by the time it was done. Blaise never dared to speak to him for a multitude of reasons, but he did watch him often from afar. There was a large tree he would sometimes perch in on the edge of the farm his crush worked on, watching him work and thinking of dumb, sappy poetry. He’d never say it, never give them to him… But boy, the thought sure riled Blaise up until his scales quivered. Tonight, all of that was going to change. With the summer festival in full swing, and his post-nap bath interrupted by a mermaid intent on helping him with a wreath to impress his fella, well… He had little choice. Or, rather, he kept telling himself that. The more he believed he was stuck in a corner, trapped and forced to try, the better he would do at not turning tail and running. By the time he had wound his way to the beach where he hoped to see the object of his affection, his hands were slightly raw from constantly toying with the venus comb in his hand. It had been his favorite shell that Waverlie had found, and he couldn’t part with it, even for the centaur he so wanted to talk to. Surprisingly, there were other species present at the bonfire, not only the centaurs. He had been under the impression that, most likely, people would stick to their own territories. It soothed him to see other creatures, even if he appeared to be the only naga present. Perhaps that would be a good thing. Shyly slithering over to the fire, he began to coil in on himself, offering nervous smiles and careful, gentle hand movements. He’d asked someone to teach him sign language, once, and he had pursued it so endlessly that he had mastered it in under three months. Not as many people used it, but he was glad to see that there were a few others signing back to him. Sure, he wasn’t actually mute, but he didn’t really want to let all of these people hear him speak. Scanning over the crowd as a drink was passed into his hand, he eyed up the potential people to talk to while searching for that beautiful chestnut colored body. The cup to his lips, he sipped at it without care before sputtering and coughing at the burn of it all. Blinking in quick succession, he sat up a little more, tail tip tapping on the sand. What had he just put into his mouth? Someone was laughing, deep in their belly and genuine, and it drug another nervous smile from him that blossomed into something fantastic. If only he could find the man he was looking for. Maybe the liquid courage in his hand would help him with that, however. Careful to avoid getting any of it on his tongue, he knocked back another drink and felt the rush of heat, the sudden wave of dizziness over him, with a soft, kind heart. It felt good to lose himself for a few minutes in the feeling, the sway of the music that called him to dance. Snakes could so easily be charmed by the beat of a song, and he was no exception to the rule. Liquids poured from the hands of perfection could not have rivaled the fluid movements of his body as he wound and danced, getting increasingly creative as his alcohol intake increased. Soon, he was laughing and joking with others, revealing a voice less overpowered by his biggest embarrassment. That didn’t mean he didn’t still stutter, but he certainly didn’t feel so self conscious about it. Closing his eyes with his third cup in hand, he swayed backward, letting out a loud shriek as he slammed bodily into a thickly muscled creature behind him. Whipping around as quickly as he could, an apology died on his lips as he took in the sheer size of the centaur before him. Lips parted before he took another drink to shut himself up, Blaise couldn’t believe that he had literally run into the man he’d been attempting to be vigilant for all night. “Oh, uh… Sorry.” With what was definitely meant to be a placating smile, the centaur helped to tug the naga out of himself a little, as if standing him upright. “I didn’t see ya there. Are you alright?” “I--” Oh boy, he could feel it coming, now. “I think I-- Y-yeah, I’m… Hi.” He finally managed, enamoured and smiling in a love drunk kind of way. “I’m uh… I-- I’m…” You have a name, numbskull, use it! “I’m Bl-Blaise.” “It’s nice to meetcha, Blaise. Garth.” The centaur gestured vaguely to himself, before glancing off into the night sky. He didn’t do so well with people, but this guy seemed to be in a similar boat. “I… I finally know your name.” Sighing as his eyelashes fluttered over his cheekbones, he paused after just a second to sit up more and carefully untangle the wreath on his head from his hair. “I m-made this for you.” Every shell was placed in a certain position according to size, shape and color, wrapped in colorful leaves and dotted with wildflowers. The pièce de résistance was the kelp and shell tassel hanging off the back. He was especially proud of that. Garth’s shocked expression almost made Blaise’s smile falter, his eyebrows drawing in as if he were starting to feel uncomfortable. He shifted a little, fidgeting with his free hand before starting to pull the wreath back against his chest. “If you d-d-d-don’t-- D-don’t-- If you d-don’t want i-i-it, just-- Just say s-so.” He began, dropping lower into himself, towards the sand, before a strong hand shot out to grab his arm. “No, I-- It’s not that. I just… Didn’t expect it, that’s all. You’re the guy who comes around and suns himself on the rocks by the farm, right?” The tender smile on Garth’s face eased Blaise’s anxiety slightly, but his heart pounded like a thousand horses running a marathon. Not only was he going to (probably) accept the wreath, but he wanted to talk, too! Even after hearing what he sounded like! “Y-y-yeah, I… It’s warm and c-co-comfortable here. More sunlight, less shade.” Blaise tried, licking his lips and finding that a parched tongue did little for a mouth turned to a desert. Watching as Garth took the wreath like he was seeing it from the outside, he felt a swell of pride as the centaur placed it on his own head. Leaning down, Garth pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, before touching them together. “Do you want to go somewhere a little more private? We can just talk under the stars.” “That sounds… P-P-P-Per-- That so-sounds… That soun-sounds pe-perfect.” --- Garth smiled sweetly, offering his arm to the naga. Taking the other’s muscled bicep, Blaise swayed as he slithered alongside him. The moonlight lit up the beach beautifully, and the flickering light of the bonfire was left behind as they traveled to an edge mostly secluded from everyone else. “So…. I don’t have a wreath for you.” Garth began softly, licking his lips slowly as he glanced over, shy and guilty all at once. “I mean, I made one? But… I lost it on the way here.” “That’s o-okay. I… D-d-didn’t th-think I cou-cou-cou-- I didn’t th-think I could d-d-do it… T-talk to yo-you.” Blaise responded, “I-I’m glad I di-did, though. I wan-wanted to for-- For a long time.” The tender look on the centaur’s face set Blaise’s heart to pounding like a thousand hooves, and he blushed heavily, looking away. “I’m glad you did. You’re cute… And sweet. Maybe we can go for a walk sometime? Just… Talk. When you aren’t drunk, and when… We aren’t so close to everyone.” Too many people made Garth nervous, and, apparently, Blaise, too. “Y-yeah. I… I g-got nervous--” Blaise didn’t have a chance to finish his words before he felt lips on his forehead, and a calloused hand pressed into his cheek. “It’s okay. But tomorrow, I want to see you.” “I-- Yeah.” He nodded finally, smiling gently. “We can… C-can-- We c-can do th-that.” “Good.” That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t lay with the naga and keep an eye on him tonight. He did need to make sure he would be safe, after all. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

#Original Writing: Fauntaursia #Characters: Garth; Blaise Menelaus #Pairing: Garth/Blaise Menelaus #Rating: SFW

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sanversinsane · 6 years

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The Tour: Chapter 6

So I figured it’s Valentine’s day and we all need a little angsty wayhaught tension in our lives so here you go. Anyways, the next chapter is the one you really want...trust me. ;) Happy Valentines day you lovely humans.

“Oh this is fancy.” Nicole giggled a bit as she threw her bag down at the foot of one of the queen size beds. “Ugh god, I’ve never been so excited to see a bed before in my life!” She laughed as she threw herself onto the mattress with a sigh. “Thank God we got that flat.”

Waverly smiled and laid down on the bed beside Nicole. She was right. This was a good idea. The mattress felt like heaven and pillows were like clouds. And she could spread out!

“I might take a nap before the show.” Nicole yawned and kept her eyes closed.

Waverly turned her head and took a moment to admire the woman on the bed beside her. She had a slight smile on her face and her head was nuzzled against the pillow. She looked peaceful. Happy. Nicole made a small movement and Waverly quickly turned her head.

Her eye met two doors that led to a balcony. The thought of the sand she had caught a quick glimpse of earlier, popped back into her head. She quietly got up and made her way to the doors.

When she opened them she was greeted with that salty air again. It was cool, but not cold. She tightened her sweater around her chest as she stepped outside.

And there it was. The ocean. The beach. The sand. She closed her eyes to absorb the sound of the waves crashing against the ground, something she had only ever heard from the sleep sound app on her phone. There was a rhythmic beat it. It was possibly one of the most calming sounds she’d ever heard.

Nicole had let her eyes close for a few moments, but when she opened them she was met with the sight of Waverly standing outside on the balcony. The white curtains blew with the wind, and Waverly looked...angelic. That’s the only way Nicole could describe it.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Nicole’s voice met the rhythm of the waves and Waverly couldn’t help but smile as she opened her eyes.

“It is.” Waverly responded as Nicole leaned against the balcony railing, next to her. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“The ocean? This is your first time seeing the ocean?!” Nicole jumped.

Waverly looked up at her and gave her a shy nod.

“Okay get your shoes on we’re going.”

“Where?” Waverly asked as Nicole made her way back into the room.

“To the beach.” Nicole laughed as she sat at the foot of the bed and slipped her sneakers back on.

“But you said you were tired. You wanted to nap.” Waverly hesitated as she stepped back into the room.

“I can nap another time. THIS is important.”

Nicole sure was making it hard for her not to fall.

***

Nicole stopped Waverly just as they stood at the foot of the boardwalk, a folded up white sheet (that she took from the extra sheets in the closet) hung over her arm. “Shoe’s off.” She urged as she hunched over to pull off her own sneakers.

Waverly hopped out of her shoes and held them in her hand. Her feet stood at the end of the wooden plank, just one step away from the sand. In that moment she thought about all the times she had dreamed about the beach, the sand, the ocean. Up until this point it was all just a dream, but now she was really about to experience it.

When she looked up Nicole was half way down the beach, walking backwards to face Waverly, her red locks blowing gently in the wind “You coming?!” she yelled and opened her arm to Waverly’s statue like frame.

The only thing that could have made Waverly’s first time at the beach better, was having her first time at the beach with Nicole by her side.

Finally she let herself smile as big as she wanted to. And just like that her feet were in the sand and she was taking off running. The sensation was weird, and different, but so insanely satisfying. She almost immediately felt completely comfortable.

Nicole stopped just where the sand began to slope down and the water crested below them. Waverly stopped next to her. For a moment they stood in silence, side by side, watching and listening to the waves. Nicole was the first to speak. “Mind grabbing an end?” She asked as she held part of the sheet out to Waverly. Waverly grabbed the end without a word, and they opened the sheet wide, gently laying it across the ground. They both took a seat and sat in silence again.

Neither was sure how long they had been quietly sitting there. Neither one of them minded at all. They both just sat there on that sheet together, their feet in the sand, staring out onto the horizon.

“I can’t believe it took me this long.” Waverly thought out loud.

“To be honest, I can’t either.” Nicole smiled as she brought her eyes to Waverly, who just could not look anywhere other than the water.

“It’s so beautiful.” Waverly muttered.

Nicole nodded and tried to find her word, because yes, the ocean was beautiful, but Waverly was breathtaking. She wanted to tell her that. She wanted to tuck Waverly’s hair behind her ear, and gently touch her face, and kiss her lips, and lay her down on the sheet, an-

“Have you?” Waverly asked, her face now turned to Nicole.

“I’m sorry...what?” Nicole replied.

Waverly softly smiled and repeated what Nicole didn’t hear when she was fantasizing about Waverly. “Have you been to other beaches?”

“Oh yeah.” Nicole nodded as she brought her knees to her chest. “Wait until we get to Florida, or California, they’re even more beautiful than this.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Waverly sighed. “There’s something really calming about it.” She looked back out at the water.

“There is.” Nicole nodded. “It sure does have a way of clearing your head, huh?”

Waverly nodded and hummed as she laid back and stared up at the crystal blue sky. Nicole followed. And again they stayed quiet for a while, just listening to the water.

It did have a way of clearing her head. In fact, her head had never been more clear. And all that was in her head was the woman laying beside her. In that moment she knew she had to say something...but just before she could open her mouth Nicole spoke.

“I should get going. I need to get changed before rehearsal.” Nicole sat back up and took a deep breath.

Waverly tried to hide the blush she felt rise in her cheeks. “Okay” was the only thing she could think to say as she slowly sat upright again.

“But you should stay here.” Nicole said as she stood and wiped off the sand that had stuck to the back of her legs. “Enjoy this. I’ll see you before the show.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

Nicole paused before leaving. Waverly paused before she left. The tension hung in the salty air between them. Waverly was hoping her eyes were saying everything her mouth wasn’t.

“Okay….yeah…I’m gon-I’m gonna go.” Nicole stuttered before picking up her shoes and walking away.

Waverly sighed, already missing Nicole’s presence next to her.

***

It was a few hours later when Waverly finally decided to move. She picked up the sheet and walked back to the room. Her mind clear and descise on what she wanted….who she wanted.

Waverly walked the wooden planks of the boardwalk to the venue Nicole was playing that night. In her head she rehearsed everything she wanted to say. Things about wanting to do things that scared her, wanting to take a leap of faith, wanting to finally let go and be happy with someone, and how she could see that someone being Nicole. It all sounded great in her head.

The only thing that pulled her out of her thoughts was the smell of Mac and Cheese coming from a food truck parked on the boardwalk. She stopped and her stomach grumbled as another waft of cheesy goodness filled her nose.

She ordered a cup for herself, and a to go cup for Nicole, her’s with bacon because Waverly knew it was one of Nicole’s favorite things.

As she made it to the venue she walked through the back hallway and found a door with Nicole’s name scribbled on a piece of paper. Waverly knocked for poking her head in. The room was the size of a broom clothset, the only thing it had was a small table with a mirror and a chair Nicole was occupying as she applied her mascara.

“Hey you!” Nicole smiled as she caught Waverly’s head in the mirror.

“Hey.” Waverly felt the butterflied start to go nuts in her stomach. She suddenly wished she hadn’t eaten all that Mac & Cheese a few moments ago. She stepped through the door and gently closed it behind her. “I uh...I brought you some mac & cheese from a food truck that was outside. There’s bacon in it.”

Nicole groaned and Waverly felt her body tingle. “That sounds SO good.” She smiled as she turned in her chair. “You are an angel Waverly Earp.”

Waverly felt like a teenager, wanting to hide her face and bashfully blush with her head down. “I know you don’t like to eat right before a show….so i’ll just leave it here...and let you get back to your make-up.” She placed the small container of food on the table and was ready to turn and leave when Nicole stopped her. “Hey Waves?”

“Yeah?”

“I was just gonna ask...did you do the braids in your hair?”

Waverly ran her fingers over the two french braids she had quickly done when she got back from the beach. “Yeah.”

“They’re really cute.” Nicole smiled. “Do you think you could do me?”

Waverly’s eyes got wide.

“My hair I mean! Do you think you could do my hair?!” Nicole quickly clarified and blushed.

“Yeah, of course.” Waverly turned back around and Nicole turned back to facing the mirror.

It was quiet for a moment as Waverly parted Nicole’s long red hair into two. “I always wanted to learn how to braid my hair.” Nicole smiled at Waverly through the mirror.

“It’s one of the only things I remember that my mom taught me...before she left.” Waverly gently began to intertwine the strands of hair on the left. Nicole stayed quiet because truthfully she didn’t know what to say. The feeling of Waverly’s fingers run through her hair gave her goosebumps and rendered her silent. Luckly she didn’t have to say anything because the next thing she knew Waverly was saying “Your hair is so soft.” Nicole smirked as she watched Waverly’s face twist in the mirror. “I just mean….your hair...it’s really nice...it smells good…I mean…shit.” Waverly bit her lip to stop herself from talking.

“Thanks Waves.” Nicole laughed a bit. “I’ve actually been thinking about cutting it.”

Waverly nodded but didn’t say anything as she started braiding the other side of her head. She was pretty postisitive her face couldn’t get any redder.

“Waverly?” Nicole asked.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think, after the show tonight….we could talk.” Nicole felt the bashfulness fill her face, but she couldn’t wait any longer.

“Yeah of course…” Waverly nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Anything you want to....go over now, or…” she slowed down as she got to the end of the second braid.

Nicole took a deep breath and sighed.

“Are you okay?” Waverly asked finally looking at her through the mirror.

“Yeah, no I’m fine. It just...something that’s been on my mind lately.” Nicole replied. “Someone, actually.” Her eyes met Waverly’s through the mirror.

“Yeah?” Waverly choked out.

Nicole turned in her chair so she was facing Waverly. “Waves, I can’t st-”

“Miss Haught?” A voice on the other side of the door interjected. Nicole and Waverly stayed frozen for a moment just staring at each other. “It Diana, from the Asbury paper. We have an interview scheduled for before the show.”

“Um Yeah, one minute.” Nicole called as her and Waverly finally pulled their eyes from each other. “Waves…” Regret dripped from Nicole’s voice. “It’s okay, we’ll talk after.” Waverly nodded as she turned away.

“Promise?” Nicole asked.

Waverly turned with her hand on the nob and got one last good look at Nicole. She gave her a slight nod, and opened the door to let the reporter in.

#wayhaught #wayhaught fan fiction #wayhaught fan fic #wayhaught fanfic

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haughtbreaker · 7 years

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Summary: Waverly Earp is used to being disappointed for her birthday, but she’s never spent her birthday with Nicole Haught before.

Note: So today is Waverly’s birthday and I thought I’d post a little birthday fic.

“Wake up.”

The voice is soft and inviting, but Waverly doesn’t want to listen. She knows what today is. As positive as she tries to be on a daily basis, it’s the one day a year she normally falls into a slump, barely able to smile yet pressing on. She would rather just sleep in, shorten the waking hours that are usually filled with disappointment.

“Come on, baby.” The voice is so hard to ignore. She can hear the smile in Nicole’s voice, warm and tempting like the arm wrapped around her waist, gently stroking her back through the oversized t-shirt she wore.

She doesn’t want to subject Nicole to the self she knows she is today, grumpy and morose, easy to set off. Twenty-one… no Twenty-two years of disappointment were hard to combat. Unfortunately, her resistance to wake up results in the arm around her waist disappearing. She can’t help it but a whimper slips from her lips, unbeckoned, yet unable to stop. It’s a reflex, the way she reaches out for Nicole’s arm, wanting to be back in her warm haven.

Suddenly she feels the softest of brushes along the bridge of her nose. She twitches her nose in reflex, breathing in a sweet and slightly spicy scent she doesn’t expect and her eyes open instantly in surprise. She blinks, her vision blurred by dark red that’s so close it nearly forces her eyes to cross before she recognizes the shape of a rose.

“About time you wake up, Sleepy.” Nicole leans down to kiss her softly before leaning back, offering her the rose.

Waverly accepts the bloom without a second thought, surprised to find the stem smoothed of all thorns. It’s so Nicole to do that. “What’s this for?” Hope blossoms larger than the rose and she knows it’s a risk because she never told Nicole about what day it was.

“Well, I would think I wouldn’t need a reason,” Nicole chuckles, pressing her forehead to Waverly’s. “I could say it’s because you are radiant, and the love of my life,” she laughs a little more because she sees the grin spread across Waverly’s lips, “and I know you don’t like to celebrate it, but I wanted to say Happy Birthday.”

The tears come unbidden, a dam broken from years of disappointment and heartache. Waverly doesn’t want to cry, because Nicole is being ridiculously sappy this morning, but she can’t seem to stop.

“Hey.” Nicole hesitates in confusion for the barest of moments before pulling Waverly into her arms. “Shit I’m sorry, Baby. We don’t have to celebrate.”

“No no.” Waverly shakes her head, angrily wiping away her tears because she doesn’t want Nicole to feel bad, hates the fact that she’s letting something this idiotic have power over her. “I’m just… I’m not used to anyone remembering.” She knows she’s being silly, knows she probably looks like a blubbering child.

“I could never forget your birthday, Waves.”

“I don’t remember ever telling you my birthday.” Despite her tears, Waverly laughs as she pulls away just enough to press a kiss to Nicole’s lips.

Nicole just shrugs, a slightly guilty look on her face. “I’m a cop.” She says as though it explains everything.

And it does. Normally Waverly would be aggravated by someone prying into her personal information, but for this situation, she’s not. Having been ignored all her life, she can’t believe Nicole went to the effort to find out her birthday. “Why are you so damn perfect?”

“I’m far from perfect, Darlin’.” Nicole caresses Waverly’s cheek with a smile. “But I do love you more than words can say.”

“Well you’re perfect to me.” Waverly presses herself up into a sitting position, not expecting to see the bouquet of red roses mixed with sunflowers on her nightstand, three envelopes propped against the bottom of the vase. The sight leaves her speechless and Nicole reaches past her to gather the envelopes and hand them to her.

“I um… I wasn’t really sure what kind of card to get… and I couldn’t decide so…” Nicole shrugs. “So I just got them all.”

Waverly looks up from the small stack and she feels like she can’t survive the ridiculous cuteness that is Nicole Haught. Wanting to be closer, she adjusts her position, sitting between Nicole’s legs and being rewarded with Nicole’s arms wrapping around her waist as she leans back against the warm frame. “You are adorable.” She grins, carefully opening the first card. There’s a cute picture of two spoons with happy faces surrounded with hearts. Opening the card, she feels her heart melt at the message. “Happy Birthday to my little spoon,” she reads out loud, looking back at Nicole who has a cheesy grin on her face. “Are you calling me short?”

“Totally.” Nicole laughs. “But that just makes you the perfect size for me.” To emphasize her point, she hugs Waverly a little tighter. “You’re the small to my tall.”

“I’m going to need you to stop being so cute.” Waverly comments, turning back to offer Nicole a quick kiss before she opens the second card. She doesn’t understand Nicole hiding her face behind her shoulder until she pulls the card out. “What’s the difference between a Porsche and Super Sexy Times?” She reads, feeling Nicole’s laughter already shaking through the long frame. She’s almost hesitant to open the card but does anyway before reading, “You’re not getting a Porsche for your birthday.” She feels the blush instantly come to her cheeks and Nicole is fully laughing. “Oh my gosh. I’m dating a 12 year old boy.” She comments, feeling Nicole’s laughter double. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry.” Nicole apologizes, peppering Waverly’s shoulder with kisses. “I had to get it.”

“I’m almost terrified to open this last one.” Waverly flips the last envelope over in her fingers. With a suspicious look at Nicole, she opens the last one. She notices the way Nicole’s laughter fades as she reads the card. “Happy Birthday to the love of my life.” She can feel her throat tightening as she opens the card, humor slowly turning to overwhelming emotions as she notices the inside is completely hand written. “From the first moment I saw you, dripping wet and covered in beer…” Her voice trails off because she’s lost the ability to speak.

…to the first time you spoke my name, I felt every second pass. From the first time you kissed me, to the first time I felt your touch, I lived and died a million times. Every day with you is a day I never thought possible because I never thought I’d find a woman like you. I never thought I’d find a love so miraculous, I wouldn’t be able to even explain it in something as simple as words. These past months have been a blessing and I’ve treasured every single breath, every second and moment I was allowed to know and love you. I can only hope this birthday is the first of many we spend together because you deserve the world, Waverly Earp, and I want to give you that.

I love you with all my heart which is yours forever.

Nicole

Waverly isn’t sure when she started crying, but she wipes away her tears, turning to see Nicole watching her nervously. “You know…” she starts, her voice heavy with emotion. “I’m so used to everyone forgetting my birthday.” Nicole gives her a surprised look, but she continues, “I don’t need you to give me the world, Nicole, because you are my world.” She reaches up, caressing Nicole’s cheek. “I love you.”

Nicole leans forward to kiss her softly, her arm around Waverly’s waist pulling her closer.

Waverly sinks into loving kisses and gentle touches, sensing Nicole wasn’t trying to push further for more contact. When Nicole pulls away, she gives her a questioning look.

“There’s one more thing to open.” Nicole reaches for the flat box on her side of the bed, offering it to Waverly.

It’s lighter than Waverly would think a box would be and she gives Nicole a suspicious look as she unties the ribbon that keeps the box closed. Taking off the top, she’s surprised to find a simple manilla folder. “Nicole…what…?” She begins as she lifts the folder. Out pours a collection of pamphlets for what look like attractions. She recognizes a few of the locations, a building in the shape of a glass triangle, another pamphlet for a towering structure made of iron. Within the pamphlets, she finds another envelope that she opens to find two tickets. One has her name, and the other Nicole’s.“

"I know we’ve been working on the curse and I’m all for it. I’m here for you and Wynonna, but your life is more than just fighting revenants. I don’t want your life to be just one demon to the next, so I’m hoping that maybe you can take a little time off?” The look in Nicole’s eyes is so full of hope. “They say that one of the best ways to ring in the New Year is in Paris and I thought maybe we could start working on filling up that passport you’ve had tucked away in your drawer.”

Waverly can’t speak. She’s so overwhelmed with emotions that all she can do is pull Nicole to her, kissing her desperately. She can’t believe this is her life. A year ago, she was woken up to the sound of Champ loudly getting ready to leave with his friend’s for a fishing trip and now she was sitting in bed with the most amazing partner she could ever have.

Nicole breaks off the kiss suddenly, groaning. “Please tell me that’s a yes.”

Waverly can only laugh. “Do I want to go to Paris with the most amazing woman ever to spend New Years at the Eiffel Tower? You bet your sexy tushy.” She leans in for a kiss only to have Nicole lean back again.

“Is that what you want to do? I made reservations for the New Year’s cabaret show at Moulin Rouge because I know you love that movie but I can change th…” She doesn’t get the rest of the sentence out before tears fill Waverly’s eyes. “Waves?”

“I…” Waverly can’t even find the words. She can’t explain the emotions that are coursing through her, curing the pain and neglect she felt over the past two decades starting to heal. “God you’re incredible.” She finally gets out.

“This is just a ticket, Waverly. What you give me on a daily basis is more than I can ever repay you for.”

Carefully closing the box and setting it aside, Waverly pulls Nicole to her, kissing her softly at first before allowing it to deepen. Nicole’s arms are pulling her even closer. The shirt she’s wearing is suddenly too confining, too much of a barrier between her and Nicole as are Nicole’s tank and pajama pants.

Nicole pulls away once more, breathing heavily. “I should warn you that Wynonna is awake and making you pancakes for breakfast.”

“Don’t care.” Waverly feels just a little guilty saying it, but there are other emotions coursing through her that need to be resolved. “Okay I totally care but… she can wait because someone in this room promised me Super Sexy Times.”

Nicole laughs, allowing her tank top to be lifted up and off. “You’re right. I did.” She pulls Waverly’s shirt off. “The birthday girl gets what the birthday girl wants.”

Waverly’s laugh turns to a soft groan as knowing hands slide over her body. “Best… birthday… ever.” She barely gets out before lips cover her own.

#wynonna earp #wayhaught #waverly earp #birthday fic #wefanfic

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earpdearp · 7 years

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just coffee

Wherein Waverly and Nicole try to make good on being just friends following the spat in Nicole’s cruiser in episode 1x09.

Sort of an AU? But more like a filler? …It can be both! And all fluff. That’s all I write, really: fluff.

Also on AO3. Approximately 3,486 words.

Other friends fic: just another tuesday (Topic: Waverly’s birthday)

“…Well maybe… just friends…”

“Yea, sure, Waverly. Whatever you want.”

Coffee. They agreed to coffee. Shorty’s Saloon. 3:00PM. Between lunch and dinner when the bar was closed. Waverly didn’t feel like setting up for the night alone and Nicole had a few hours between her first and second shifts.

Easy. No pressure. Familiar spot.

Easy.

Nicole Haught stood outside the diamond-shaped windows of Shorty’s front doors. She shifted the duffle bag in her hand, a change of clothes she hadn’t had time for at the station. She also held her white Stetson respectfully to her chest.

Instead of eagerness, Nicole’s heart felt heavy.

It was all too familiar.

High school. College. The academy. Lather, rinse, repeat, Friends. Once in a blue moon did the cycle break. Just not this time, apparently.

It had been stupid to think this was gonna end any differently. All those little breadcrumbs of hope Nicole had been feeding on, those little smiles and glances and touches…

Stupid stupid stupid. I blew it.

If only she hadn’t been distracted outside the station the other day. If only she had been listening to what Waverly was trying to confess, instead of frustrated about Purgatory being its weird Purgatory self. She did get the chance to apologize, but the damage was already done. And here Nicole was. Standing outside Shorty’s to hang out with her Just Friend, Waverly Earp.

God. Damn. It.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole pressed into the heavy doors but they didn’t budge. She rapped a knuckle against the window and waited. After a few seconds, she heard the click-chunk of a deadbolt. Enough time to smooth her frown into an easy-going smile.

Waverly poked her head out, relief etched in her features. She twisted at a white bar towel in her hands. “Oh thank God,” she chirped with a broad smile. “I was afraid you weren’t gonna show.” Waverly held the heavy door open for Nicole to slip in before relocking the deadbolt behind them.

“Promise is a promise,” Nicole replied, hopefully managing to mask her bitterness. She held up her duffle. “Mind if I change? Hoping to squeeze in a run before evening shift. Gotta be fresh for all that paperwork.” She shot Waverly a mock-serious look and was rewarded with a smile.

“Of course!” Another chirp as Waverly tossed the bar towel over her left shoulder. She pointed at the back “Staff” door. “I’m almost done cleaning the coffee machine. How do you take yours?”

“I’ve heard good things about that Shorty’s cappuccino. Two sugars?”

A sunshine smile with a finger-gun. “You got it,” Waverly replied as she swept behind the bar over to a partly disassembled machine, chrome pieces glistening from a recent rinse.

The Staff room was hardly more than an over-sized closet with a safe for cash, an old computer for inventory, and a cracked window with an ashtray on the sill for smoke breaks. A shitty toilet latch secured the door, enough privacy for Nicole to peel off/fold her uniform shirt and khakis and swap over to running shoes, blue-striped pants, and a long-sleeve Purgatory Sheriff’s Department henley.

Threading fingers through long red hair, Nicole pulled out the French braid and snapped a hair tie to her wrist as she exited the break room.

Back at the bar, Waverly was struggling to kneel on an unstable bar stool to reach a high cabinet. A tan wrist barely crested the edge, fingers feeling blindly as Waverly’s tongue stuck out the side of her mouth in concentration. Her hockey-style Shorty’s shirt rode up higher than normal, Nicole noticed, before dismissing that thought immediately.

“Just friends.”

Nicole strode up as she finished binding her hair in a simple ponytail. “Need some help?”

Hazel eyes lit up in response. “Could you? The lunch crew likes to hide the espresso grounds in the back to screw with me. Still as hilarious now as it was three years ago.” Waverly rolled her eyes before spinning playfully on the bar stool on her knees.

“Three years, huh?” Nicole asked, light and conversational. She dropped her gym bag and Stetson on the counter then flipped the small wooden divider to reach the inside of the horseshoe-shaped bar.

Where the shorter Earp needed a stool, the Officer stood up on tip-toes before her fingers wrapped around a crinkling bag of coffee in the cabinet. When she turned, Nicole could have sworn she saw Waverly’s gaze… somewhere else. For just a second.

“Just friends?”

“Since I was 18.” Waverly accepted the bag (which smelled of a rich dark roast) then measured out a few cups into the coffee machine. The device fired up with a steaming hiss accompanied by warm bubbling sounds.

Turning back to Nicole, Waverly started counting on her fingers. “Before here, I worked at JD’s Restaurant down the street. Didn’t pay as well, but more time to read. I bagged groceries at Safeway before that. And I delivered pizza for one shitty week when I was 16. Hated that job. And in between, I taught some summer gymnastics and dance classes at the rec center for really little kids. That was fun.”

“Busy and popular girl,” Nicole remarked as she leaned her backside against the bar. It was strange being on this side of the counter, like she didn’t belong. Like they were equals instead of customer/server.

Like… friends?

As she started steaming the milk, Waverly shrugged off the compliment. She shot Nicole a curious look. “What about you? What did Pre-Officer Nicole Haught do?” There was a strain to Waverly’s smile, like it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Not as rich a life, I’m afraid.”

“Try me.” There it was. That warm smile returned as Waverly scooped sugar into a coffee mug.

“Well,” Nicole started, her hands running along the counter edge behind her. “I worked at Tim Horton’s almost every weekend from high school through university. …Not the same one. Transferred to a different store when I went away for college. But the same routine. Still remember all the menu numbers by heart.” She smirked at another memory. “I was also a lifeguard for a miserable summer when I was 16.”

Long hair swept over a shoulder as Waverly looked over at Nicole. “Ooo! How was that? I always wanted to lifeguard but the pool is too far away.”

Reaching up, Nicole pulled at her ponytail and to show Waverly. “You see this red hair, right? I spent more time bathing myself in sunscreen than I did watching the pool. When one sunburn ended, another would begin. But I was trying to buy a car so I had to stick it out.” She tossed the red strands back over her shoulder and shook her head. “I’m just happy I didn’t get skin cancer… that I know of.” She shot Waverly a theatrical, fearful look.

The smile on Waverly’s face was hard to read. It was a soft, thoughtful crinkle. And just as a faint red started to touch her cheeks, she turned back to the coffee machine. Waverly deftly mixed the espresso into the cup before topping it with foam. She started to slide the mug over to Nicole, but suddenly thought better of it. Waverly snapped her fingers and started digging around under the bar.

Nicole leaned over to reach for the cup, but a hand appeared from below to gently slap her knuckle.

“Just a second! I keep forgetting I bought these.” Waverly appeared a second later with a small container of cocoa powder and a couple of round stencils with simple designs. She offered the metal, paddle-like set to Nicole. “I saw ‘em on Etsy. …I tried the foam pouring trick from YouTube, but I couldn’t even do like a basic heart.” She sighed and rolled the cocoa powder cylinder between her palms.

It was hard for Nicole to hide an endearing smile. Because she had just pictured Waverly hovering at the bar, making cup after cup of espresso and trying to artfully pour milk in. It also made her select a stencil without thinking it through.

Nicole held up the flat metal stencil of a heart, then had to bite her lip to keep the blush from spreading. The choice was not lost on Waverly, whose eyes widened.

Scrunching up her face, Nicole tried to hide the stencil behind her back. “Sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to—I just thought since you said you had trouble doing a heart the other way… this could count as a success.” She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh.

God. Damn. It.

Waverly’s voice was soft and small, but confident. “Okay.”

Nicole’s eyes shot open. The other woman wasn’t awkward or blushing. She just held out her hand and offered that crinkling smile. “…okay?” Nicole repeated.

“The customer is always—mostly—right… right? And I said I owed you a coffee, right?” Waverly made a grabby motion with her hand.

“Fair enough,” Nicole said with a small clearing of her throat.

With that, Waverly turned and dusted a (slightly lopsided) heart over the top of the steaming cappuccino. She presented it back with a dramatic flourish. “And thus, the debt is repaid.”

Nicole nodded her thanks and took a sip. She could feel the foam coat her upper lip, but it was hard to take her eyes off Waverly, who stared back intently.

“So? How is it?”

Warm. The cocoa powder adds a nice flavor. Sugar cuts the acid of the espresso. All in all, solid.

“Pretty good,” Nicole said with a nonchalant shrug. She allowed herself another deep sip before swiping her thumb over her lips.

Waverly scowled. “’Pretty good?’ That’s it?” She crossed her arms over the bold SHORTY’S type on her jersey.

Well, we are just friends… Friends can be honest, right?

Nicole tried to soften with a lilting question. “I’ve had better?”

An offended (if good-natured) scoffing noise. “Your gratitude is overwhelming.”

“I’m kidding. It is really good. A good pick-me-up before my run. Thank you, Waverly.” A pause. “…I have had better, though. If I’m being completely honest.” Nicole allowed herself a teasing smile.

Waverly poured herself the rest of the espresso, unruffled by the critique. “Where at?” She wrinkled her nose in thought with one eye skyward. “I think the best coffee I’ve had is in the city at the fancy hotel we had for Prom. So good with like homemade whip cream and everything.”

“There’s this amazing café in Las Vegas where…”

Oh.

No, we are not going into that right now. Not on a first—er, not on a chill friends hangout between friends and only friends.

Nicole cleared her throat. “…well, they made a mean mocha cappuccino.”

“Did it have a fancy—?” Waverly trailed off as she made a gesture over the top of Nicole’s coffee.

“…It did. The logo of the café with lots of swirls.”

That faux-scowl returned. “Damn it. I knew it. Back to YouTube, I guess.” A smile curled across Waverly’s cheek as she patted the cocoa container over her own coffee, this time a sprinkled star on top. She settled in next to Nicole, mirroring her lean against the bar counter. They were just far apart to not be touching.

“I’ve never been to Vegas,” Waverly said thoughtfully with a loud sip. “Never left the Ghost River Triangle, actually. Been here my whole life.”

“Not even for, like, a family vacation? Or a school trip?”

A derisive laugh in reply. Waverly’s nose wrinkled with the barest hint of a scowl. “Just to the city. School trips to the museum or the stockyard for 4H stuff. And no family vacations. Daddy died when I was 6 and Aunt Gus and Uncle Curtis were too busy with Shorty’s or their farm to bother with something like that. Though now with Uncle Curtis gone…” She trailed off, long hair slipping over her cheeks as her head tilted down.

Reaching out, Nicole gently touched Waverly’s wrist. She was slow and careful, trying to avoid the awkwardness that happened in her cruiser. Two soft strokes before the hand returned to Nicole’s coffee mug.

We should go somewhere, Nicole wanted to say. She could even mean it in a friendly way… sort of. Mostly. Maybe.

“I never did much as a kid either,” Nicole said instead. “Didn’t start seeing any of the world til I graduated college. And that was mostly training camps and emergency management excursions sponsored by the government.”

After a few moments in silence, Nicole nudged Waverly’s side with a gentle elbow. “Well, I’m glad you stuck around Purgatory.”

Waverly gave a small sniff as she reached up to push her hair back. “Me too” was barely audible past a soft smile.

An alarm on Nicole’s phone chimed, a reminder to start her workout soon so she’d have time to return to the station to shower before paperwork. But she wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet.

“Gotta go?”

“…I’ve got time.” Nicole took a slow sip, smiling into the cup. “So, what is a day in the life of Waverly Earp?”

Chuckling, Waverly stroked her chin. “With Wynonna? I don’t even know anymore.”

“Hard to plan around?”

“Impossible,” Waverly confirmed with a sigh. “Used to just be yoga, study, Shorty’s, sleep. And occasionally I’d go out with—well…”

Another nose wrinkle and tight smile. Waverly certainly did that a lot, each with a different meaning. This one seemed a mix between embarrassment and a scowl.

…Champ. Of course.

Waverly did not elaborate. Instead, she took a deep sip of her coffee before continuing. “…but with Wynonna and Dolls and their coming and going all hours of the day and night… Some days I’m grateful I make it to work, if only for the familiar routine.” Her face fell as she glanced behind them.

Nicole followed her gaze to an empty booth near the door with a large spread of paperwork. Official looking documents were arranged in haphazard stacks.

“Anyway.” Waverly cleared her throat and pushed up from the counter. “I’m keeping you from your run.” A tired, evasive smile as Waverly busied herself with stowing the cocoa and stencils back under the bar.

Rumbling out an “Okay,” Nicole relinquished her empty coffee mug to the busy woman. As she started to gather her duffle and Stetson, a snapping noise turned Nicole’s attention.

“Hey! What are you doing for dinner?” Waverly stood with her arms crossed, hip thrust out, expression neutral.

Oh!

It was hard for Nicole not to stare back, heart stuck in her throat. “I—I was… I don’t—“

Waving a menu, Waverly skipped over to Nicole. “You’ll probably be hungry after a run, yea? I could ask Martin to fire up the grill early so you could take something back to the station?”

Oh…

“Oh. That would be… really great, actually. Lunch was forever ago.”

Not as great as—well.

Waverly smiled broadly. “And you could save the trip to your car and just pick your stuff up when you get back, right?”

Finally regaining her composure, Nicole managed a smile of her own. “You just want an excuse to try on my hat.”

“Maaaaaybe,” Waverly returned with a singsong. She walked her fingertips over to the white cowboy hat. But instead of trying it on, she stowed both under the bar in a clean, safe spot. “…not while you’re looking, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

Surveying the menu, Nicole asked, “Which is your favorite?”

“Oh! Hmmm!” Her long hair swayed with her head-tilt. “Probably the nachos, though only because it’s like the only vegetarian thing on there.” A nose wrinkle and a shrug.

Vegetarian. Noted.

“Pass,” Nicole replied with a grin. She pointed at an item under SANDWICHES. “How’s the chicken salad?”

“I’m told it’s great. I’ll get Marty on it when he’s up from his nap.”

Pulling her wallet from her pocket, Nicole waved a $10 bill.

Waverly shrugged it off. “On the house. I know the manager.” She winked and flicked a towel at Nicole to vacate the bar. “Get going, Haught! No rest for the wicked!” And just like that, Waverly pushed through the double doors to the kitchen and was gone.

Folding the bill, Nicole tucked it into the large glass (empty) tip jar before pulling her wireless ear buds from a zippered side pocket. A hard guitar riff started up in her playlist, “Bury Me With My Guns On” escorting Nicole down the Purgatory street.

Nicole rapped on the glass once more, out of breath and feeling the chill of the air through her henley. She smiled broadly at the sound of the deadbolt. That smile froze on Nicole’s face when she was greeted not by Waverly, but a stern older woman.

“Mrs. MacCready.”

“Officer Haught,” the woman returned cooly, dark eyes hard. She did allow Nicole entrance, but with sharp, abrupt movements. Gus called for Waverly, who was apparently in the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence as Gus headed to the closest booth, paperwork waiting at the table. She continued writing for a few moments, allowing Nicole to quietly catch her breath and rub the chill from her arms.

“So.”

“Yes, ma’am?” Nicole replied with respect, stretching out her calves on the wooden steps. She smiled awkwardly.

Gus did not return her smile. “You know, Champ used to come around. Begging for freebies. Free food. Free booze.” It was a loaded, simple statement. She glanced over at Nicole significantly before returning to her papers.

Defensiveness burned in Nicole’s chest. “I’m not Champ, ma’am. I offered to pay. Waverly wouldn’t let me.” She gestured to the tips jar, her folded $10 bill from earlier balanced upright.

Gus’s dark eyes flicked over to the jar, an impressed pull at her cheeks before her stoic expression took over. “Hm.”

The comparison was not lost on Nicole. And it felt like she’d just passed a test of some sort. Especially since this was the longest conversation she’d ever had with the matron of Shorty’s.

A shout drew Nicole’s attention to the kitchen. “You’re back!” Waverly grinned wide, holding a styrofoam container in triumph. “Perfect timing! Just pulled the fries from the deep fryer.” A plastic bag rustled at her wrist as she bagged the container with a few packets of ketchup.

With Gus watching, Nicole pushed away the temptation to go back to the familiarity behind the bar. She fixed a smile to her cheeks and met Waverly at the apex of the horseshoe counter. Nicole’s duffle and Stetson were already waiting for her.

“Have a good run?” Waverly asked.

No. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I ran away so hard from this place that I was out of breath for 10 minutes… then I had to run all the way back.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

“It was fine, thank you. Everything okay here?”

Waverly’s voice was a warm chirp. “Perfect! Thanks for keeping me company earlier.” She patted Nicole’s collection and pushed it over. “Good luck with all that paperwork tonight!”

“Thank you, Waverly,” Nicole said warmly. “For—well—everything.” Her fingertips accidentally brushed Waverly’s wrist, but the woman didn’t flinch. In fact, she smiled wider.

Setting her Stetson on her head, Nicole tipped it at Gus MacCready as she padded up the steps. The woman’s chin raised in acknowledgement, but she returned to her documents.

Outside in her cruiser, Nicole opened the passenger door to stow her food and duffle. A flash of pink caught Nicole’s attention out of the corner of her eye. Inside the bag stuck to the Styrofoam container was a post-it note. On it was Waverly’s SnapChat handle with a doodle of a cowboy hat.

Nicole smiled and settled into the driver’s seat before pulling out her phone. Tapping into her own app, she added a “Waverly95” and sent an invite from “NHaught.”

Nicole turned on the cruiser on and angled towards the municipal building (a quick 5 minute ride a few streets over). She would have plenty of time for a shower and change before starting on her evening work. The day off tomorrow would be a welcome distraction from… all of this.

Except her phone pinged as she pulled into the private lot. New SnapChat from “Waverly95.”

A series of images streamed onto Nicole’s phone. All of Waverly at Shorty’s in her Stetson.

Waverly at the piano pretending to play.

Waverly making a face next to the grainy image of Wyatt Earp, her finger a pretend-moustache.

Waverly with an arm around Gus, who looked to be mid-conversation and confused by the phone in her face.

Waverly pursing her lips with the hat tilted over one eye.

Waverly pretending to talk to a beer mug wearing the Stetson, a fake laugh frozen on her face.

Wait.

Wait wait wait.

…What?! What was that second to last one?!

But it was gone, the app timer ticked down to zero.

God. Damn. It.

#wynonna earp #wynonna earp fanfic #wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #waverly and nicole #shorty's #1x09 #trying to be friends #and failing #because they are mushy idiots #would love prompts or ideas from people!

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0trashtalk0 · 7 years

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5 SHOWS ON NETFLIX (INDIA) WITH STRONG FEMALE LEADS THAT YOU GOTTA WATCH!

Sense 8

This one has a lot, like 8 leads but it’s a healthy representative mix. They have Gay women, straight women, transgender women and even a woman who got roped into arranged marriage #relatable. The show is a mix of spirituality, sci-fi, romance, drama, art and all things in between. There are literally 8+ storylines going on at all times in different parts of the world so I’m sure there is something for everyone. I may be a little biased because Bombay looks super pretty in it and Anupam Kher is in it. Anyway, I’m a sucker for representation. This show is beautiful and gives me all the right feels 10/10

Disclaimer if the almost orgies make you uncomfortable.

ALSO DON’T GET TOO ATTACHED BECAUSE NETFLIX CANCELED THE SERIES BC APPARENTLY ITS SO EXPENSIVE LIKE ANYWAY I THINK THERE’S GONNA BE A 3 HOUR FINALE Wrapping things up so yeah. sorry for the caps im very angry.

Wynonna Earp

This show has from what I gather at least two strong female leads. It’s about this old guy called Wyatt Earp (look him up there’s a film on his name) who killed some people or revenants(?!?) as they called them. Wynonna is his great great? Granddaughter and she has to basically kill these zombies with her special gun cuz she is the Earp heir. The story follows her and her sister Waverly (who is Gay and supa cute did i mention?) and how they Idk deal with this zombie situation in town. I love Wynonna’s wardrobe I have to mention. The show is based on a graphic novel series by the same name which is great if you’re into that.

Orange is the New Black

OITNB is a Netflix classic lol so if you haven’t watched it you probably live under a rock or are a dude. Anyway this story is about women in a minimum security prison. You watch them in prison and then half the show is flashbacks to the lives of the inmates and the events that lead up to where there are right now. Which is in prison… The show has a large cast of strong women and representation if I’ve ever seen representation. Women of all colour, size, social groups taking control and being badass. So yeah if you haven’t watched it you should totally give it a go it gives you ALL OF THE FEELS but violence and sex and trigger warnings

Jane The Virgin

So everyone talked about how fun this show is and how wonderful Gina Rodriguez is but I was always like wtv seems extra. And I was right, this show is SO extra in all of the right ways!! Gina Rodriguez is super cute and super fun. The dude who plays Rafael is steamy. And the overall show is so positive and fun and like a telenovella. The show is about Jane who is a Virgin who gets artificially inseminated by Rafaels sister with Rafaels sperm and now she’s basically Mother Mary. The whole season gets even more ridiculous and far fetched but it’s hilarious and the characters are endearing!

The 100

I’m surprised by the number of people who have watched this show. It’s more popular than I’d imagine but it’s honestly so good. It’s set in the post apocalyptic world where the earth was destroyed by radiation and the remaining humanity now resides in space on a structure called the Ark. Now the Ark is running out of resources and 100 juvenile delinquents are being sent to earth to test the waters? Soil? Vegetation? All of it. The show is quite violent and not as light hearted as most on this list. It kills characters off like GOT so don’t get too attached. The story mostly follows the main character, Clarke. And how she leads the 100 into survival. All the actors are very good looking and #clexa is my favorite ship and I do not say that lightly

#trashtalk #blog #shows #TV #Netflix #India #Women #Strong #powerful #trash talk #why am i trash #send help

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whitepolaris · 2 years

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Waverly Hall Cemetery

Waverly Hall is a pleasant little community in Harris County, located in west-central Georgia. Founded in 1829, the town has its share of historic homes, but there are no tales of haunted structures. The town’s cemetery on the other hand, has gained a reputation for being Georgia’s most haunted. It has become a favored destination of that modern breed of paranormal investigators, the ghost hunters.

Talkative Ghost Guides Searchers

We got to Waverly Hall Cemetery around 11:30 p.m. and stayed until 4:00 a.m. This place is a paranormal hot spot! Cool winds from surrounding spirits and many cold spots follow you nearly everywhere, and orb activity is amazingly strong. I got forty-three fantastic EVPs out of the place from three full audiotapes, which had many more, but they were not clear enough to save. Many of the spirits in the cemetery are very rude in that they do not want company-period. They state this audibly with “Get out!” “Get out of here!” “Get lost!” and many other similar commands. But these people do not make up the majority there. Most of my collected EVPs are of interesting things said to something my partner and I asked or remarked about while walking around the place. Video-wise, I got many amazing orbs flying by, coming up to check me out and just going about their business. All are human in height.

There was a bit of pine-tree pollen in the air, only seen by the Nightshot IR on my camcorder, but all of the orbs stand out clearly to the pollen. No ectoplasmic mists were seen, though-which was a bummer. On an important note, my partner and I used the EVP recordings in trying to locate a spirit’s grave. How? you might ask. By real-time questioning of the ghost and then replaying the tape recording to hear the response. This worked really well, though we still didn’t manage to find the grave due to a misunderstanding concerning the spirit’s actual name. The ghost, named Kile (nickname) Peterson or O’Toole (not exactly sure on that), kept telling us to “go back” or “look down” or other directions many times while walking around, but we didn’t hear these recordings until later, while leaving. How did we get his name? you might ask. Through a spirit board (similar to a Ouija board but quite different in shape, size, color, and harmonic balance so as to call in only good spirits) session.

Kile was very talkative and gave us a lot of information. At one point, he even tried to use my vocal cords to speak out loud. I did not give him permission to do that, though, and my body’s powerful energy field immediately rejected his presence before he could cause me any harm. Though I knew he wasn’t being mean, just trying to communicate through me, his manipulation of my vocal cords caused me to cough violently to clear the problem. Kile said he was sorry after the event through the board, and I told him not to do that again to anyone without permission. I didn’t even know I had the ability to channel like that, though, which is very cool.

As noted before, there are many negative-minded spirits in Waverly Hall. Not in the sense of being physically violent, just jerks in attitude. During our time there, I didn’t feel any bad sensations, just lots of people not wanting conversations. They would rather sulk in their own dimensional realities until the doorway to freedom opened in their minds. But the commands to leave make for some great EVPs. Except, after a while after a while, you just want to tell them off for being so rude. You come in friendship, and they throw it in your face. Oh, well-can’t please all the spirits. At least there were others with more engaging personalities. -Elak Swindell, ghostvillage.com

#weird georgia #type read

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its-real-for-us · 7 years

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5 SHOWS ON NETFLIX (INDIA) WITH STRONG FEMALE LEADS THAT YOU GOTTA WATCH!

Sense 8

Disclaimer if the almost orgies make you uncomfortable.

Wynonna Earp

Orange is the New Black

Jane The Virgin

The 100

#trashtalk

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jaybear1701 · 7 years

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Memories That Remain 2

Summary: Whitney Earp is getting married, which in a small town like Purgatory, is big news already, but Whitney has a secret. While sorting through some boxes in the attic, preparing for her move off the homestead, she stumbles across a familiar white stetson, and her mother’s old journal. She learns that her mother Waverly has been keeping something important from her her entire life -- Waverly Earp is not her biological mother. Through lies and the perfect scheme, and a wedding that is one disaster after another, Whitney is determined to get to the bottom of the family secret, even if it means getting both of her mothers in the same room after 20 years of estrangement.

By @haughtbreaker and @jaybear1701

Also available on AO3.

"You seem so far away though you are standing near You made me feel alive, but something died I fear I really tried to make it out I wish I understood What happened to our love, it used to be so good."

There was a bounce in Whitney's step as she slipped through the door of the Sheriff's department. Nothing like deception and manipulation mixed in with the excitement of her impending nuptials to brighten one's day. She'd left her friends back at Shorty's, tasting the themed drinks that would be at the reception while she ran across the street with a pair of coffee cups. She could barely contain the mix of eagerness and happiness coursing through her veins as she thought of all the possibilities ahead of her. Three more sleeps. The internal monologue had continued through her day.

The officer at the front desk smiled brightly, hiding her phone under some files to at least pretend she'd been working. "Hey Whit!"

"Hi Court." Whitney set a coffee cup in front of her old classmate. "He here?"

"Thank you so much." Court breathed a sigh of relief, popping open the cup to dip her finger into the melting whipped cream before nodding quickly. "Nedley's got him down in the dungeon."

With a snort, Whitney reached into her messenger bag and set a small napkin-wrapped bundle that smelled suspiciously like chocolate on the officer's desk.

"Courtesy of my mother's late night baking," she whispered with a wink before taking the remaining coffee cup and heading down a hallway. She found the stairs easily and made her way down, having traveled the path a few times before when the sheriff was being ornery and taking it out on everyone in the station by assigning menial tasks. A flickering light greeted her and she was drawn to the shuffling sounds coming from one corner.

Whitney paused for a moment, leaning against a shelf as she watched her fiancé reshelving file boxes. He was ridiculously adorable, she decided. With the amount of testosterone coursing through the veins of Purgatory, including his asshole of a father who measured a man's worth by however many seconds he could stay on a bull, she was glad Jesse was nothing like them.

Not saying he was weak, she thought as he moved a stack of boxes, watching the lines of his arm flex with the weight. No he was far from weak, and in truth he was a better shot with a shotgun than even her mother, but he was definitely a lover and not a fighter. She easily found herself lost as she watched him, a smile tugging at her lips until one box slipped from his hands, falling to the ground with files spilling out in a puff of dust.

"Dang it!" He sighed heavily, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before kneeling, only then seeing Whitney standing there. "Oh, hey!" He laughed nervously.

Taking mercy on him, Whitney was quick to his side, helping him scoop up the files and setting them haphazardly on the desk. "Sorry, Honey." She waited for him to set the box on the desk beside the small stack before holding out the coffee cup. "You look like you could use some of this."

He smiled bashfully, accepting the cup and setting it aside before wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "You are too good to me."

"Nothing is too good for you." Whitney captured his lips in a quick kiss. "I can't believe the sheriff's got you all alone down here… with no one else around." Wiggling her eyebrows, she ran fingertips down the front of his uniform, circling a button. "You look like you could use a break."

Another laugh and he was pulling away with a shake of his head. "The sheriff's been on a strange warpath since this morning."

Whitney rolled her eyes. "Chrissy needs to pull the stick from her ass."

"I think the last thing I need right now is to get fired, at least not until after the wedding." He grinned a dopey grin that went all the way to his ears. "Because then I'll have a beautiful, college-educated wife that will be able to support me whenever she decides on a career path."

Whitney snorted, leaning back against the pile of boxes. "Well you better get used to enjoying my mother's cooking because we're gonna end up back at the homestead and God knows that bed squeaks louder than a cat in heat."

"Well, I think your mother's cooking is delicious."

"You're such a kiss ass." With a laugh, Whitney picked up his coffee and took a quick sip, wincing at the oversweet flavor. "I better go. Mom should be getting back soon with Aunt Wyn. I just wanted to see my future husband for a minute." She reached up to flick some dust off his uniform.

"Wynonna gets in today." His smile faltered, turning into a tight line as he fought the urge to frown. He was so bad at hiding his emotions from her.

"You know she loves you."

"She loves messing with me." He shook his head. "She just… I really wish she wouldn't compare me to my dad all the time."

Stepping into his space again, Whitney rested her forearms on his shoulders. "Sweetie, you are on the wrong side of the street to be anything like your dad. He's probably over at Shorty's right now, starting the day with a pint." She placed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you because, on top of being a sexy beast, you are honest, brave, and full of integrity. Your dad couldn't even pass the officer exams and you are on route to be the next sheriff."

It was enough to bring back a grin as he pulled her closer, finding another kiss in her smile. His hands came up to capture her face, his thumbs gently brushing against her cheeks as he deepened the kiss.

Whitney groaned against his lips, breaking off the kiss to push away. "Ok, we should stop before we really get you fired."

"Hey, you were the one that offered." Still, he let her go but not without a pout.

"Well that was like….three minutes ago." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"And three minutes makes a difference?" Jesse argued before he saw the wry look on her face. "Ok, that's just mean."

"Oh but I do love every bit of those 3 minutes…" Whitney joked, slipping out of his reach as he playfully lunged for her.

Accidentally knocking one of the files from the stack, Jesse gave her a mock glare before picking up the folder, taking a quick look before his head tilted to the side. "Whoa… weird."

"What's weird?"

Pulling a small, wallet-sized photo out, he held it up so Whitney could see it. "Just an old personnel file. She kinda looks like you."

Her eyes growing wide, Whitney snatched the photo quickly, seeing the familiar angles of the face that was also in the photo in her bag except this time she was wearing the same uniform Jesse was wearing. God her mother must have been shitting herself when Whitney started dating an officer, she mused, reaching for the folder before Jesse could start reading. "That's crazy." She let her eyes scan the page, noticing the emergency contact where a very neatly written Waverly Earp was in black ink. "I wonder if Mom knows who this is."

She wasn't ready to deal with explaining Nicole to Jesse. She couldn't let him see the file. Not yet anyway. So with a big grin, she shoved the file in her bag.

"Hey. Whit…" He was cut off with a kiss, soft hands cupping his cheeks as Whitney's form pressed against his.

"I'm just gonna borrow it. I'll bring it back." She whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, she broke the kiss off and pulled away. She could see the momentary hesitance in his eyes and quickly pressed one last kiss to his lips. "I have to go find the girls. I'm staying at the homestead again tonight. Come by when you're done." And with that, she turned and left.

Escaping up the stairs, she barely got her expression under control before running right into the Sheriff. "Sheriff Nedley! I was just looking for you!" She hoped her cheeks weren't as flushed as they felt.

Chrissy Nedley narrowed her eyes at the wayward Earp. "I don't remember my office being down in the archives."

Putting on the smile she'd taken from her mother, Whitney reached into her messenger bag to pull out a box wrapped with a ribbon, four small cakes visible through the plastic top. "My mom wanted to say thank you for your help with those coyotes the other night."

Her expression not faltering, Chrissy accepted the box as they began to walk back to the front of the station. "All in a day's work. Tell your mother she's more than welcome, but please remember that all messages of appreciation are better delivered from the other side of the front desk."

Whitney tried not to laugh. When her mother had told her about how the Sheriff had been in high school, she'd barely believed it. "Noted." She quickly commented, giving Court a quick wave before escaping out the front door.

"I'm here, Bitches!" Wynonna let her bag drop, her eyes scanning the unexpected darkness of the homestead with a frown. "What the hell? I didn't fly all the way from the UK to not even get a damn hug… a shot of whiskey… something?"

Waverly rolled her eyes, pulling a note off the cork board near the door. "She's running some errands with the girls."

"Kids these days." Wynonna moved to the kitchen, finding things exactly in the same place as they always were. "It's way too late in the day for me to be sober and what the eff is up with all the hammering?"

"It's not even noon." Waverly could only smile, seeing her sister pouring whiskey into their grandmother's china. "And the incessant banging is because her royal highness wants an outdoor wedding."

"It's fricking Purgatory in December. Her royal highness is asking for a swift kick to the box." Wynonna snorted, taking a sip before quickly spitting it out. "Either someone's been watering down the whiskey, or my tongue isn't working…"

"Well you'd be a lot more quiet if that were true." Waverly grabbed the bottle, inspecting it. "That little brat." She let her thumb brush over the small x near the barcode. "This is the bottle we bring out when her in-laws come over for dinner. I told her to get a new bottle."

Wynonna snorted at that. "Not like that man-child knows the difference."

Waverly froze as a voice from the past ran through her mind. A boy man? She shook her head, attempting to dislodge the memories. "Well, I'm suddenly in the mood to drink." She twirled the keys that were still in her hand. "Trip to town?"

Wynonna changed her mind and shot back the rest of the whiskey in her cup before nodding. "No sense in wasting it….ugh that's horrible. Let's go."

"What the hell is going on here?"

The entire bar jumped at the sound of the voice ringing from the double doors. The small party at the bar counter broke out in a burst of laughter.

"Mom!" Whitney laughed, knocking back the small shot of pink and green before hopping off the stool. "Mom we have to have this… this… Stevie, what is it?" She directed at the bartender.

"The Earp Express." He cleared his throat, trying to avoid his boss's even stare.

"It's fantastic!" Only then did Whitney notice the tall frame behind her mother. "Aunty Wyn!" She launched herself at the oldest in the Earp family who embraced her with a noticeable grunt.

Wynonna returned the hug briefly before holding her out at arm's reach. "My beloved niece, already drunk before lunch," she pulled Whitney in for another hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I trained you so well. I'm proud of you," she mock cried before pushing her away. "Take me to your alcohol," she groaned as she followed Whitney to the bar, noticing the different shot glasses of various colors and mixes. "What's wrong with straight up whiskey?"

"It's a party!" Anna laughed, reaching for a suspiciously orange mixture and tipping the drink down her throat, wincing. "Oh… yeah the Pious Wyatt is horrible. Definitely not strong enough"

"It's a virgin drink." Jenn commented wryly with a shake of her head. "Hi Miss Waverly."

Waverly let her eyes drift over the bar. "You driving?" She asked, noticing the glass of coke in front of her.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good girl." Waverly looked over her shoulder where Whitney was peppering Wynonna with a few dozen questions about her travel. "Okay…" She clapped her hands together, looking at the bartender. "What the hell is this Earper Express?"

With a smile, he pulled a clean shot glass out, expertly layering the alcohol before presenting it.

Quickly swallowing the drink, Waverly pursed her lips. It was sweet with the subtlest of burns. People were going to get destroyed at this wedding, and she couldn't help but look forward to it. "I like it. Write it down and clean all this up." She looked at Purgatory's next generation, her daughter's rambunctious friends, and felt a small bit of sadness. She could hardly believe how fast time was going by, and yet she felt like every moment had lasted a lifetime.

A lifetime of waking up alone, taking Whitney to the dentist alone, having to attend the father/daughter dances with her. Now she was getting married.

God she felt old.

"Do you even know who I am?"

Waverly looked up to see Wynonna trying to get behind the bar. "Wynonna! Stop it." She hooked her arm around her sister's elbow. "Thank you, Stevie." She winked at the bartender before tugging Wynonna away. "Go in back, please. Find something to drink." Looking at the girls, she took another deep breath. "Girls, I take it you picked up the boxes from the post and the supplies for the centerpieces?"

"It's all in the trunk, Miss Waverly." Jenn supplied quickly.

"Then what the hell are you still doing here? We have about 100 of those damn things to make so if you could please get working on them." When Wynonna came out from the storeroom, she sighed softly. "Wynonna, can you go with them please? Make sure they actually get started while I run some errands."

"Yes, Mom." Wynonna muttered, hugging her bottle to her chest. Whitney and Anna piped up with a laugh, grabbing Jenn by one hand each.

Waverly sighed. Her baby was grown, and drunk, and getting married. It was that same motherly protective streak that led her to follow the girls outside, making sure that it was Jenn that slipped behind the wheel. "Turn it down!" She yelled as music poured out of the topless car that backed into the street. "Drive carefully!"

Watching as the car took off down the road, she winced as it almost swiped a car that was pulling in front of Purgatory's only hotel. As the driver slipped from the vehicle, obviously watching the car make it's way down the road, Waverly almost called out an apology when something stopped her.

There was no mistaking that frame, all 5'9" of it. She didn't even need the woman to turn towards her, shoulder-length red waves reflecting the light of the sun.

Waverly felt herself shutting down. Her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat, a vast desert that reached from her tongue to her lungs.

What the hell was she doing here?

"What the hell are you doing here?" Waverly breathed out the hushed question toward the wall. Despite the harshness of her words, she was too tired, too numb to put any heat in them. Instead, she felt deflated, shrinking and sinking like a balloon in the cold.

"I wanted to see you," Nicole said, equally resigned, from the doorframe of Waverly's childhood bedroom. She didn't dare set foot inside . "Before I…"

"Run away?" Waverly, who sat on her old mattress, kept her eyes trained straight ahead at the Pokemon poster she had hung as a child. Its corners peeled at the edges. She refused to turn around. But if she did, she imagined she'd see Nicole's lips set in a thin, frustrated line.

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Isn't it?"

Nicole blew out a breath. "We both agreed that we need some space. Get some perspective. Does it really matter if I'm here or in Chicago for it?"

"No," Waverly acceded, not wanting to fight. She didn't want to do much of anything. "I suppose not."

She picked at a piece of lint off the sleeve of one of her favorite Christmas sweaters-a green and red monstrosity with a massive Rudolph emblazoned on the front. Or at least, it used to be one of her favorites. She stopped herself from re-living the mini-breakdown she had that afternoon, when an identical, newborn-sized one had arrived in the mail. She had forgotten that she had special ordered it all the way back in the spring.

"Wave, look at me," Nicole pleaded quietly. "Please."

She didn't want to turn around, both out of vindictiveness and, if she was completely honest, a lingering sense of self-preservation. She feared that if she looked at Nicole, the walls of indifference that she had erected around her heart would crumble. Walls she had meticulously put in place, conscious or not, after months of tests and shots and suppositories, disappointment after disappointment, fighting and frustration.

"This isn't permanent," Nicole insisted when Waverly remained silent and still. "If I visit my family for a bit, maybe it'll get them off my back."

Waverly snorted. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

Nicole sighed, long and slow. "We'll talk soon," she said.

They both pretended it wasn't a lie.

An unexpected frisson of pain lanced through Waverly's chest, cutting through the numbness and leaving a dull ache between her ribs. She closed her eyes as she listened to Nicole turn and walk away, boots clicking lightly on the creaking hardwood.

Waverly felt torn between running after Nicole and staying in place. She buried her face in her hands. She didn't want Nicole to leave, but she didn't really want her to stay either. She could try to stop Nicole - all she had to do was call out her name. But then what? Pretend they hadn't said all those hurtful things to each other? Forgive and forget? Waverly wasn't ready. And she doubted Nicole was either. How did they end up here?

She startled when she heard the front door click shut with a finality that echoed throughout the Homestead. The sound spurred Waverly to her feet. Almost against her will, and most certainly against her better judgment, she approached her bedroom window and peered outside.

She watched Nicole walk slowly toward her squad car. The desire to slide open her window and ask Nicole to stay grew, almost overwhelmingly so. But Waverly didn't move. And Nicole didn't stop. When Nicole opened the car's door, she paused and Waverly held her breath. Even now, after everything, Nicole still looked tall and strong despite her hesitation.

Nicole turned her head and looked up toward Waverly's window.

Their eyes met and Waverly's heart throbbed.

It was now or never.

There would be no turning back unless one of them changed their minds.

But neither did.

And with one last sad smile, Nicole got in the car and drove away. Waverly reached out and touched the glass of her window, tracing the cloud of dust that trailed in Nicole's wake.

Twenty years later, Waverly cursed the fact that Nicole, in dark jeans and a gray peacoat, looked every bit as striking as she had the last time Waverly saw her. And even with the distance between them, she still felt an inexplicable pull toward Nicole. Perhaps old Waverly would have given in and let herself be driven forward by her thundering, traitorous heart. Would have marched right up to her ex and demand to know why she was in town, just to see her up close, to finally hear the voice that kept haunting her dreams.

But the Waverly of today wasn't driven by her emotions. No sir. She was no longer enamored by childish notions of romance, or meant to be, or true love conquering all. Waverly of today put one and only one first person, and that person was Whitney. And Waverly would focus on Whitney and make damn well sure that her daughter and future son-in-law had the best goddamn wedding the town had ever seen.

She wouldn't bother with Nicole, or even concern herself with why she was back. That's what Waverly told herself as she turned on her heel and walked to her SUV and hopped in. So what if she seemed to be having trouble catching her breath as she turned the engine over. No. She wasn't going to think at all about Nicole. And if her eyes happened to slide to the rearview window where Nicole was perfectly reflected, well, she was just checking that the coast was clear before she pulled out of her parking spot.

#wayhaught #nicole haught #waverly earp #wynonna earp #wayhaught fanfic

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idonthaveanaccent · 7 years

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For all my fellow writers/authors:

We all start out somewhere. I, by far, am not a published writer, but I have certainly grown in terms of my writing. We all start somewhere, so I figured I’d share a few of my first stories that I recall, and then I’ll explain my current one that I am working on writing and will hopefully get published.

I’ve been writing since Elementary school. I’m going to be a Sophomore in high school (I’m fifteen and in my tenth year of school for everyone not in the American school stuff), so I’ve been writing for a while. And while my writing is not perfect, and m spelling is certainly not something to blab about (I’ve already had ten spelling mistakes since I started writing this) and my grammar would certainly make even a fifth grader cringe at points, I feel as if I have grown in terms of solid storyline.

Writing does not have to be perfect, so long as you can convey the story you want to.

My very first story...well, I’m going to be frank. It was not an original story. Yes, it had original-ish characters, but it certainly was not a story I made up completely on it’s own. No, my first story, back when I was in...second grade? Third? One of those, was a fanfiction. You heard me- a fan fiction.

I usually, nowadays, shy away from both reading and writing fanfiction, mainly because I’m worried I’ll ruin my favorite characters or I’ll get extremely angry at the author for making one character not written in the way I always imagine them. However, the fanfiction story I made was not written down.

Back in the day, we always played with toys. I don’t know if any of you young-ins on the site who lied about your age would recall this, but before IPads and IPhones were given to second graders, we would have Barbie's and homemade clothes and we’d create these worlds. Now, I did not make this story up with Barbie’s and other dolls, it stemmed from a dream I had.

When I was young, I had an obsession with a book series known as the Secrets of Droon. Never heard of them? It was essentially (from what I recall, it’s been years) about three kids who would travel to an alternate world (or was it just two...) and they fought evil and yada yada. Anyways, one night, I was watching this TV show known as the Backyardigans. Super obscure. No one ever watched it. I was a young hipster, obviously. Anyways, there was this one episode where Tasha was a superhero (they all were, duh) and she had this snapping ability. Then Uniqua (?) could control insects. Tyron had bubbles, and I think Austin had storm powers, or was that Pablo? I don’t recall exactly, but anyways.

One night, after watching that episode, I went to sleep and dreamed up a world where the MCs of the Secrets of Droon were sent to another alternate world, and there were three superheroes with abilities and then there was another one who everyone thought was evil or something, and I just rolled with it. I remember sitting in my room and just saying the words in the story, and I built upon the world. I had created a story.

My next story was in third grade. It was about a wizard girl with a gnome as a housekeeper/butler/.wise guardian/sarcastic shit and a human boy. The boy wandered into the woods, met the two other characters and they went on this epic adventure. I had made it up for a Halloween writing assignment, and I never turned it in so I don’t know what grade I got on it. It topped a whole eleven pages with size twenty-four font. I was so proud.

The next series that really became something I wanted to write was inspired by Wizards of Waverly place. It was about a wizard named Paige (yes, I made myself the hot main character because I was an egotistical nine year old) who was British (who knew that’d haunt me throughout my high school years?) and moved into town with her father to her Uncle’s house. Her cousin, Mason? I think that was his name...anyways, he was a werewolf and so was his dad. Her father gave up being a werewolf to be with her human mother or something.

Anyways, it was really well thought out and in fifth grade I wrote a very short version of it and because when I was third grade I had a crush on this kid in my class named Josh, I named the love-interest after him and in fifth grade he was in my class and we had to share our stories my friends all laughed at me because they thought I had a crush on him and they weren’t completely wrong but I didn’t have a crush anymore so technically they were wrong. That was long winded and not at all correct grammar.

Anyhow, the next story line I came up was about fairies, and it is way too stupid and complicated to even write it out, but I still have copies of it (I printed them all the time) so if you want me to type them up into a post I will do it. Anyways, that series was a complete flop as well.

In seventh grade, I began to think up this one series with more mystical creatures. I am actually thinking of writing this one out, but here’s the gist of it:

Erick, the son of the Elven leader, is a hybrid of Elf and Magic User (wizard, essentially). His mother was supposed to be the Queen, but she bailed after learning she didn’t want to be it. During the war, their house was bombed and she died. Cut to nine years later, and Erick has to go on this epic journey with other Hybrids like himself to stop Drea, his aunt. Anyways, it is really epic but it doesn’t sound epic because I’m cutting it short. Sorry.

Anyways, in middle school we had IPads because we were just that cool, and I’d type this story up on it.

Now we get to the motherlode of stories. This story is the one I want to publish. Here’s the basic summary:

Maxwell River is a sixteen year old high school boy living in Manhattan. He’s popular, attractive, sarcastic, and wanted. He’s got a best friend, Maria, and a rival, Chris.

Things change though when Max learns he can control water.

New doors are open to him. Not only is he the fifth of his kind, but he also has to fight off demons from taking over the world.

With the shapeshifting Killian Gold, the flaming Asher Burn, the freezing Jasmine Frost, and the earth crushing Piper Stone, Max is set. But when your power is wonky and stronger than everyone else’s, things can get hairy. Especially when the leader of the Demons is none other than Chris, his rival form high school, and his second command is his old crush, Hannah.

Things are only getting more complicated for Max, and there is no sign of it getting easier.

Yeah, not the most descriptive, but I don’t want to ruin the book. Anyways, I’ve been planning this series since the beginning of eighth grade, and my has it grown. In all honesty I never expected to be able to plan out six main series books, two spin-offs, and a second trilogy that details the lives of another group related to the main group.

My point of this long post is to tell you that even if your writing is bad, it takes time to plan out a good story. Not everyone can think up one on the spot. All my story ideas grew from time thinking of them. I’ve spent more hours of my life planning how to stop Max from being with the woman he loves than actually writing the story.

So long as you have a good idea and different main plots for each book, than you can write it. And it’s not gonna be perfect the first time around. It will take you ages to get it to the way you want it to be.

Trust me, if I had kept the original storyline, than Max would be superhero who would watch people make out in alleys. Not exactly stellar material.

Anyways, your story may not seem perfect now, but even have a base idea is good enough. I was able to build a story around a dude with water powers who fought of demons. If I can do that, than you can make your story amazing.

By the way, if you ever need help building your story, I can help. You can always message me or ask me for help. I will do my best.

Until we meet again.

#writing #author #story #first stories #idonthaveanaccent #original stories #writing advice #keep going #encouragement #you got this

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promptmephlint · 7 years

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Just two midwestern boys out on a stroll.

(Things I forgot were a thing until I started writing this: Tornado Alley. I also had a bit of trouble with this because I like, cannot accurately tell ages via appearances and I’ve never seen Clint’s age listed for what age his parents died/he and Barney ran away from the orphanage, so my apologies. In this he ran away from the orphanage at the age of 12, which seems a bit too old, but in order to like remember people, I feel like he would have had to have been a bit older...I don’t know. Also: my rough draft for my major thesis is almost done. Hallelujah.

-Hannes)

Waverly, Iowa.

Midwest. A little south of Minnesota, a little west of Wisconsin. Part of Tornado Alley.

Actually, not that far from Phil’s hometown. Sometimes, he wondered. Late at night, when Clint was long-gone or dead-asleep beside him. Could they have met before Shield? Wondered if he’d actually seen Clint in the circus when his dad took him as a kid and just...never noticed. Wondered if he could’ve helped him sooner. Wondered what would’ve happened if he had.

He’s usually jolted out of this train of thought by a call from Fury or Clint rolling over onto him and snuggling close to his side.

Waverly, Iowa.

Phil is sure he’s never been here, sure he’s never set foot on Iowa soil. And yet, it’s familiar. Eerily familiar in an uncomfortable sense, like when you think you see someone you knew that you know died 2 years ago.

When Clint had received a letter from his old hometown, saying he was to be commended for his service at Shield and was to be given a ‘key to the city’, Phil was skeptical. From what Clint had told him about his childhood in Waverly, Phil was sure it wasn’t a place Clint would like to return to. And Clint had surprised him, as he always does, by accepting the comendation almost instantaneously.

And so here they were, strolling around Waverly the day before the ceremony. Everything seemed legitimate, and though Phil still had this inkling feeling that something was off, he kept it to himself. Holding hands, smiling, making general fools of themselves. Surprisingly, Clint seemed excited, as if old plastic diner booths and the over-arching smell of lilacs in the park and the slightly grease-stained motel carpet were the best things he’d ever seen. Phil had to admit, the town was pretty and the people seemed nice. Waving at Clint, with only the occasional few doing double-takes, with frightened eyes, like they’d seen a ghost.

It was only when they stopped for dinner, at another ‘Totally Different™, Not At All The Same Thing, Phil, Obviously This One Is Better” diner, that they finally met someone that Clint actually recognized. He’d frozen, for a second. Paused, and then smiled, fond and warm and Phil could feel himself smile despite himself. Nothing could ever cheer him up like a genuine smile from his husband. A few words exchanged, quick handshake, and then the other man was gone, Clint still happy as a clam. And that’s how it all began. Apparently, according to the second person they had run into, this diner had become a ‘hangout of sorts’ for most of the ‘old gang’ that Clint had apparently been in in the beginnings of middle school.

A big, dark-haired woman with a low voice and golden-shining earrings eventually approached them with their food and Clint had recognized her as well. She’d introduced herself as Sheila and reminisced about old times in what Phil assumed as late elementary school, but it was never truly specified. Tales of old nemeses (that guy who threw erasers at Clint during math class and the slew of kids who apparently teased Sheila) and rumors of how old teachers were doing nowadays.

Another, older woman came into the diner halfway through their meal, stopped dead cold in her tracks with a scowl the size of Texas before it morphed into an odd half-smile, half-smirk.

“Is that Clinton? Clinton Francis Barton?” She’d yelled across the diner, voice soft, but clear.

“Well there’s the old bitch now. How are ya, Ms. Schefield?” Clint waved as Sheila snickered beside him.

“Heard you’re gettin’ a key to the city, boy.” Ms. Schefield tottered over to their table, cane in her hand bedazzled with too many green rhinestones.

“Yeah, proud of me?” Clint smiled and it was obviously meant in an inflammatory way, as if he were expecting her to deny it or shoot him down.

“Always proud of my old students when they do something good. Keep up the good work, Francis.” Ms. Schefield limped away and Clint looked like he’d been shot.

“Yeah, she’s calmed down a lot in recent years. Sorry, pal.” Sheila left the booth after giving Clint her number on a napkin and patting him on the shoulder. Phil smiled as Clint tucked the napkin away in the breast pocket of his flannel, hand lingering over it.

Sappy, sentimental fool.

“Seems like you used to know a lot of people around here.” Phil commented after they’d made it back to the motel for the night. Clint looked at him, rolled over on the bed and wrapped an arm around Phil, head resting languidly on his partner’s chest.

“Friends are a blessing for kids who don’t have a good home to go back to. My parent’s house was war when my dad came home, and after they died, the orphanage wasn’t much better, y’know?” Clint smiled, “I remember all the good times with all of them and try to forget everything else. I suppose that’s what people would call ‘coping’.”

“Memories are all we have in the end; coping or not, they’re good to keep close by,” Phil kissed the top of his head and shut his eyes, “Hope our memories together will be as good as the ones you have with all of them.”

“I’m sure they will be, babe.” Clint nuzzled into Phil’s chest as they both drifted off to sleep.

#phlint #Phil Coulson #clint barton #promptmephlint #clintcoulson #c/c #hawkeye #Agent Coulson #bowtie's #shieldhusbands #prompt fill: anonymous #anonymous #admin hannes #hannes writing

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