AKA, OTP Fics And Other Things

Welcome to my writing blog! I write mostly for myself, but don't be afraid to leave comments (good or bad) or whatevert, feel free to share what you like too! I love to write and I generally have good-ish ideas.

[atotalnerd-writes]

I hadn't realized you updated! It's good to see you back! (Also that was amazing)

Well, it’s been a while! ha ha, I stopped because of school and work and all that. But summer is coming up so I’ll try to open up my inbox again!

[atotalnerd-writes]

i saw Pentatonix live tonight and all I wanted to do was cuddle up with Avi, and you've given me that. So thanks. ilu and this blog so much

Thank you so much! I stopped writing because I got busy with school, but I figured I'd just keep this up anyways (in case I could start writing again). I'm glad I could make you happy! :)

[atotalnerd-writes]

One Word Prompt: Dangerous

As your boyfriend tried to balance himself on the two wheeled contraption, you bit the tip of your thumb nail gently. It had seemed okay when they were goofing off earlier, but that was when the sun was setting. Now the parking lot behind their venue was dark without the fading sunlight adding its brightness to the low glow of the lamps dotting the parking lot. Now it seemed dangerous. But he had one of his tour mates helping him find his balance, so hopefully nothing would go wrong.

“Okay, okay, okay.” He finally mumbled, still staring down at his feet.

“You good?” His tour mate asked, his hands falling to his sides and away from your boyfriend’s back. Your boyfriend gave a small nod and then he was off.

You had to suppress a giggle at the way he edged forward. He was cautious at first, his arms out like a kid on a balance beam for the first time. But he was smiling, so it was all good.

“You’ve got this.” Encouraged his blonde band mate. Standing to your left, the blonde had his phone out, as always, recording the spontaneous moment. “You’re killing it!”

Eventually, your boyfriend dropped his arms as he became more comfortable on the self balanced scooter. “Yeah, bro. Rock and roll!” he exclaimed, shooting a rock and roll sign back towards the blonde’s camera and you. You couldn’t help but giggle this time, causing him to shoot you a smile a well. Then he turned, rather slowly, but fully and made his way back to where he had started. Then it was the blonde’s turn. As you waited for your friend to come back, which was a while at one mile an hour, your boyfriend poked your side. “Your turn when he gets back.”

You laughed, gently swatting his hand away. “No way!”

“Oh come on!” He egged you on with a smile. You opened your mouth to argue, but he held up a finger. “Wait.” You shut your mouth to let him continue. “If I hold your hands the whole time, will you do it?”

You looked past his over-shirt clad shoulder to see your blonde friend turning around, you had to make a decision fast. “It seems like a really dangerous thing to do in the dark.” He gave you a soft smile at your response.

“You’ll always be safe with me,” he took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. You bit your lip in nervousness and he drew you into a hug, your nestling right into the collar of his dark over-shirt. “I won’t let anything happen, I promise.” His words vibrated against your chest, his beard pricking against the side of yore forehead. And then you gave in with a nod against his body as you heard the the whirl of the scooter come to a halt.

“That’s so much fun,” the blonde let out in a laugh as he got off the scooter. “Who’s next?” His gaze went around the small group of you that where in the dark parking lot… and landed on you, still attached to your boyfriend. “Come on, groupie,” he joked with a smile, “your turn.”

Your boyfriend laced his fingers within yours, pulling you to the scooter. You took a deep breath, looking down to the thing that you were sure was going to be your dead. The machine wobbled underneath you as you got on, one foot at a time, leading you to latch onto your boyfriend’s forearms. You could feel his calming and familiar warmth, seeping from his skin to yours. “I’ve gotcha’.” His deep voice quietly floated to your ears, your gaze locking with his green eyes in front of you. “I’m not going to let you fall.” He gave you a reassuring smile, then pulled you forward.

The sudden movement startled you, a squeak leaking from your mouth and then a laugh as your boyfriend continued to pull you forward. He had a smile on as he pulled you around, clearly enjoying your happy laughter. He continued to walk backwards, tugging you along to the point where they had all been turning to go back to where they started. Slowly, you rounded the turning point together… and then he stopped. Your eyes went wide with panic as he detached your hands from his forearms and took a step back.

“What are you doing?!” You moved to try and grab back onto his arms, but found you were inches away from contact. The scooter wobbled underneath you as you flailed, sticking your arms out much like he had to try and regain your balance. “You said you wouldn’t let go!”

“I’m still right here,” he told you calmly, stepping forward to give your cheek a gentle rub. The warmth of his palm against your cheek momentarily calming you down. “Just trust me. You can do this.” He took a step back again, standing to the side with his arms out reaching towards you. “All you have to do is lean forward and I’ll catch you if you fall. I won’t let you get hurt.”

You could feel your heart beating hard in your chest, the panic you felt being contradicting the calm and safety you felt radiating from your boyfriend. With a hard swallow, you did exactly what he said to. Just a small lean forward, and you started moving. He smiled brightly as he took steps backwards to stay with your forward motion. Your gaze was set on your feet and the purple lights just below them, watching the asphalt move beneath the scooter move.

“You’ve got it!” Your boyfriend exclaimed, his smile invading the tone of his voice. “You’re doing great!” And that’s all that was needed to break your concentration.

You had looked up when he had called out to you and that had been a very bad decision. As soon a you had looked up towards him, you started to loose the coordination of your balance on the scooter. Your weight shifted, sending the scooter turning. And moments later, you felt your self falling. A panicked shriek left your mouth as you clenched your eyes shut, anticipating the impact of your body against the hard and unforgiving asphalts.

But the impact never came.

You were, however, pressed against something solid. And warm. You cracked your eyes open and looked up to find that you had crashed into your boyfriend’s chest. You let out a sigh of relief and relaxed into him. “I felt so scared,” your voice was muffled but the cloth of his over-shirt.

“I told you,” he stated lowly as he cradled your head to his chest, “I’d never let you get hurt.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms around his waist. “It just seems more dangerous without you there, you jerk.” You smacked his chest lightly and he let out a soft chuckle. “You promised you wouldn’t let go!”

“I thought you were doing fine!” He protested, picking up the scooter and turning you both around to walk back to the venue. “I though you could handle it!”

“You freaked me out!” You confided in him. “I told you I thought it was dangerous and you wanted me to try it anyways.”

After he handed the scooter back to its rightful owner, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll listen to you.” He smirked, “I promise.”

[atotalnerd-writes]

I love the idea of… falling asleep on a special someone.

It would probably be after a long day of work and you’d be curled up on the couch after dinner in your shared apartment. At first, your eyes would just be fluttering, trying to pay attention to the TV show you’d both decided on. But slowly your head would sink against their chest and you’d snuggle into their side. One of their arms would go around your shoulders absentmindedly, drawing you into that comfortable warmth they always radiated. And then the gentle up and down of their chest beneath your head would just lull you to sleep.

They probably wouldn’t notice right away. But when they do notice, they’d definitely smile down at you. They’d smile because of how cute you’d look curled up against their chest and the fact that you’d used them as a pillow. They’d probably run a hand over and through your hair, leaning down ever so slightly to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. And when you would try to snuggle even deeper into their chest, they’d probably let out a low and small chuckle. And eventually they’d probably wrap their arms around your frame as they relaxed themselves. Some time after that, your breathing patters would synchronize and they’d fall asleep themselves.

[atotalnerd-writes]

you're one of my favourite writers on tumblr. your writing makes me feel better when everything else seems bad. <3

Thank you! That's quite a thing to tell a writer. Glad I could help :)

[atotalnerd-writes]

If I Lose You, I Lose My World

“Anonymous said: Can you do one where [male] and you fight and you walk out and he goes after you? Lol srry cheesy i know” 

This request was sent a while ago, sorry! I was on hiatus. For future reference, you can request a specific person in the ask so I can have a visual guide when I write. I just change the names to [Male] or [Female] when I post my stories to keep my stories OTP friendly (and so my stories don’t go into the tags of the people I write about!). I hope I wrote about the right guy for you Nony! Enjoy!

You knew you shouldn’t have left like you did, but you couldn’t stand to be around him- really any of them- anymore.

Tour was getting on your nerves, stressing you out and you tried to hide it, but eventually it had just all leaked out. You were simply cleaning up the bus after a long busy day when they all tumbled back in, disturbing the perfectly clean front section that you had just got clean. And you exploded, yelling at them and shutting yourself in the back of the bus. Of course your boyfriend had coaxed his way back, his deep voice vibrating through the false wood door until you let him in. He sat down next to you on the couch and got you to talk it out; that you where having a hard time adjusting and there were somethings that you wished were different.Things like not getting to see him at all for days at a time didn’t make you feel good. It went okay for the first couple of minutes, then you could tell that he was getting irritated. You knew what you were getting into, he had told you, his voice getting gruff with a hint of anger, If you can’t handle it, then you shouldn’t have agreed to come with me! Your eyes had misted over with tears that you were going to leave unshed in his presence. You didn’t even give him an answer. You just rushed out of the back of the bus, pushing your way past the rest of the surprised band while you tried to stifle the tears already making their way down your cheeks. They had tried to stop you. A feminine hand had been placed on your shoulder and there were attempts to get you to tell them what was going on. But you ignored it all, rushing out of the bus into the cold night as you started to tip past the point of holding it together.

You ran without knowing where you were headed. Their yells from the bus started to fade as you rounded the edge of the venue, ignoring the stares from the rest of the tour crew. The city started to swallow you up and soon it was just the sound of your hard footsteps slapping against the cement of the sidewalk, intermixing with the sound of the strange city you had immersed yourself in.  You knew you shouldn’t have left like you did, but you couldn’t stand to be around him- really any of them- anymore. As you slowed, your sobs started to break through your labored breaths and your body felt like it was near collapsing. Luckily enough you stumbled upon a park, collapsing on one of the old wooden benches that line the worn-out trail. 

You let yourself fall onto the bench face down, your lungs were burning and  heaving for air as tears coursed down your checks. He could’t have really meant that? Could he? He was so excited when you had originally told him that you could come on tour with him. The thought of him regretting the fact that he let you come with him made your entire body cringe. You rolled up into a ball as if you could contain your aching heart by tucking your knees to your chest.

As your tear ducts began to run dry, the streaks began to freeze as the wind of the city started biting into your skin. When you shivering it finally hit you full on. You had no clue where you were. And it was nearly midnight- at least you suspected, the show had ended at close to eleven. You checked your phone… only to find it dead. Now you were really screwed. 

The dark night suddenly seemed a lot more menacing now that you knew you were on your own in a foreign city. The rustle of the wind in the trees made the goose bumps already on your skin, due to cold, grow in their numbers. You drew the hood of the jacket you were wearing over your head. It smelled like your boyfriend… you had forgotten that you had grabbed one of his hoodies to relax in, before you started cleaning. They were always ridiculously over-sized on you and you found them comfy. The familiar smell served no other purpose than to be the catalyst to the new set of tears streaming down your face. you buried your face into the fabric as your eyes closed, the fatigue of the running and crying starting to catch up to you. Your body had given up on shivering, accepting the cold as it unloving-ly tried to rock you asleep. Then you heard a shout of your name.

It was a panicked shout, sounding out of breath. It was shortly accompanied by the rapid crunch of the gravel that made up the path and then it came again, much closer than the first time. It sounded like your boyfriend, that was reason enough for you to force yourself to remain awake within the cocoon of the hoodie. As the person skidded to stop and dropped heavily to their knees next to the bench, your name slipped through their lips like a prayer. 

“Sweetheart…” you’d recognize that deep voice anywhere, he had found you. “Baby open your eyes.” His big, warm hand rested on top of your head, trying to remove the hood from around your face. “Please…” his voice caught in his throat. “I’m so sorry… please.” You mumbled his name so quietly, he was sure he was hearing things. Then you cried it out again, throwing your arms around his neck that was level with your head. You practically fell off of the bench into his lap as his arms went around you and crushed you to his chest. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” He reassured you and himself over and over, his voice reverberating from his chest to yours. “Shh, I’m here, you’re safe. You’re safe.” He rocked you back and forth, placing kisses to your temple and into your hair as he continued to reassure that you were safe. Your sobs eventually turned to soft whimpers and sighs as you nestled your head into the crook of his neck, his beard brushing softly against your face. 

The crunch of gravel alerted you to the arrival of the rest of the group, but they stayed a few feet back to give you and your boyfriend a bit of room. “She’s okay,” He answered the looks on their faces that you couldn’t see. “She’s a bit cold, but she’s okay.” He wipped most of the tears from his eyes as they all let out a relived, wet sigh. Then he hosted you up into his arms, clutching you even tighter as you pulled yourself closer to him. “I’m never letting you go,” he whispered against your scalp. “Ever.”

As he walked back to the rest of the group, you closed your eyes and pretend to sleep. Tomorrow you would be ready to talk about this, but you knew the rest of them would have questions now.

“Any idea what caused this?” A higher male voice asked quietly, as another jacket was draped over you in your boyfriend’s arms.

His response was just as quiet, but it still rumbled through into your chest. “She- uh- She doesn’t handle a lot of stress well.”

“God knows we’ve all had massive amounts of stress lately,” The voice came from above both your and your boyfriend’s head. “Poor thing, our messy usual selves must have pushed her over the edge.”

“No,” Your boyfriend took a shaky sigh has he was helped into the back of the car with you still in his arms. “I… I-I told her that maybe she shouldn’t have come with us on tour.” He tucked you tighter into him as he sat down. “I was just irritated and it came out harsher than I wanted.” A stray tear slipped down his cheek and into his beard. Then his voice got really quiet. “Then she just ran.” 

“But we found her,” his best friend reassured him. “She fine, man. She’s safe right in your arms.”

They stayed silent the rest of the way back to the buses, saving the questions until you were ‘awake’. When they piled back onto the bus, they all went their separate ways and allowed the both of you to have the back of the bus. He was sure that you two were alone when he woke you back up. He took your face in his hands, running his fingers over your cheeks.

“I don’t know what I would have done…” His green eyes searched yours. “You just can’t do that, okay? Don’t leave like that.” He leans his forehead against yours. “I was scared out of my mind. You just can’t do that.” 

“I thought you didn’t want me.” A tear rolls down your cheek and he immediately wipes it away with his thumb. 

He draws back so he can look at the entirety of your face. “How could I ever not want you??”  He seems in awe that you would say something like that, his voice is soft. “You’re my everything. I could never not want you.”

Your brow furrows in thought. “But you-”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” his hands move from cradling your face, to being buried in your hair. “I never would. It came out harsh and I wish I could take it all back. Because if I lose you, I lose my world.”

[atotalnerd-writes]

One word prompt- passion

Passion: (noun) :a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept

"I don’t understand it." You mused as you watch your best friend bake for the party from your perch on the backwards chair next to him. "You have so much passion for so many things, how can you keep it all up?"

He washes his hands and quickly wipes them on the white apron that covers his t-shirt and half way zipped up jacket, moving to grab fresh ingredients. “I don’t know.” He answers with a smile as he cracks an egg on the side of the bowl in front of him on the counter, adding it to the “from scratch” cookie batter he’s creating. “I never really thought about it.” He shrugs his shoulders as he grabs a whisk and starts to add more things into the bowl in between mixing the batter. “I just like to do a lot of things.”

You swivel back and forth on the chair lazily. “Well how can you tell what’s your favorite?” You lean over and dip your index finger into the bowl, snagging some of the unfinished batter before he lightly smacks away your hand. “Do you feel a stronger passion for one thing over the others?” You ask your question mumbled around the finger in your mouth, slipping off the chair to try and score more batter. “What’s your favorite?”

He moves away from your advances, taking the bowl with him as he mixes. “Do I have to choose?” You nod. He stops mixing for a second, scratching under the ever present beanie atop his head with a clean hand and looks up, as if the answer is written on the kitchen ceiling. “I think I’m most passionate about making music.” He nods to himself, agreeing with his own statement. “Yeah, I’d have to say making music is at the top of the list.”

You lean back against the tile counter, crossing your arms and tilting your head. “Why is that? How can you tell?”

He sets down the bowl, turning around to get a pan as he shrugs. “Because it feels better to do than the rest of the other things I guess.” The baking pan clatters onto the counter, even though he makes an effort to not make such a loud noise. “When I make music…When I make music it feels like I can breathe again.” There’s a silence as you process his words. He lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head as he grabs the cookie batter. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

"No. No, it doesn’t." You contradict him, turning away from where he’s spooning dollops of batter onto the pan. "I think I’ve had that feeling before." Your voice is quiet because of course you knew that feeling. It happened to you whenever you were in his presence. You’d had a huge crush for him for quite sometime and the air without him around always felt a bit harder to breathe in. "Like there’s some weight on your chest… and then when it’s suddenly gone, you feel the need to breathe fresh air." You can’t hear the sound of him plopping cookie dough onto the pan anymore, almost as if you’ve stopped him mid-thought.

"Yeah," He breathes out and continues to deal out the cookie dough. "Yeah, just like that." He doesn’t say another word until he’s pushes the pan into the oven and washes his hands of the baking residue. Then he clears his throat and turns to you. "It doesn’t happen to you with just music though, does it?” He looks straight into your eyes and you drop your gaze to the ground. “You’re more passionate about something else, I can tell.” You keep silent, averting your gaze. “Is it a someone else?”

Your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink as your head snaps up. “No!” You blurt out a bit to fast for it to be convincingly. And there’s the squeezing feeling settling into your chest as your eyes meet his green ones. “I feel that way about books… and- and reading… and lots of things that you don’t know about!”

He smirks as he turns to put the pan into the oven. “Like what?”

You give out a huff of frustration as you hide your face in your hands.

"I knew I was right." He crosses his arms triumphantly. "And I bet it’s one of our friends, right? You’re always acting weird when we’re all together."

You only groan in response. You sink back into the chair and rest your head on your crossed arms on the counter where the cookie pan had been not minutes ago.

He chuckles. “It’s okay,” He says, his warm hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I promise not to tell, your secret is safe with me.”

You can hear him as he moves away from you, cleaning up his kitchen. And he doesn’t say another word, but you can feel him watching you. You can’t bring yourself to deal with the in the air, so you tell him that you’ll meet him at the party and slip out of his apartment.

You don’t see him again until he walks through the front door of the house where the party is being held. From where you’re standing sipping your drink and talking to a friend; your eyes follow him as he greets his friends by a one armed hug for a slap on the shoulder, making his way to the kitchen to drop off the cookies. He reemerges from the kitchen doorway a few minutes later with a drink in his hand and by the color, you can tell it’s scotch. He eases into the party quite easily, getting caught up with friends and making conversation with new ones. He glances around once or twice, but you don’t meet his gaze for more than a split second.

As the party moves on, you get more and more uncomfortable. Big get togethers were never your thing and it doesn’t help that some girl has draped herself over your best friend. It’s when she makes a move to kiss him that you quickly excuse yourself from your current conversation and swiftly make your way to the backyard.

The cool night air feels good on your skin as you lean against the patio railing and as you take a deep breath you feel a bit more relaxed. Then the sound of the sliding glass door and large footsteps on the wood makes your stomach twist into knots.

"Hey," your best friend says as he sets down his glass on the small table near the door. "You okay?" You down the rest of your glass quickly, alcohol is supposed to give you courage… right? "I’ll take that as a no." He laughs, his hands landing on your shoulders and giving them a small squeeze. You let out a shiver involuntarily as he whispers next to your ear, "What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything."

You have to put your glass down before you do anything stupid. “No,” you huff out in a frustrated sigh as you push past him, “no I can’t.” Your empty cup goes down next to his half full one. “Just not this time, okay?”

His face falls. “Don’t you trust me?”

You rub your face with your hands, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No, no, no. It’s not that.” For a minute, the alcohol in your system tells your brain that it might be worth it to tell him. But you aren’t that drunk yet. “Just go back to the party,” you wave him off, with a tight voice, “I’m sure the girl who’s throat you were sticking your tongue down needs her ‘conversation’ buddy back.” You scoop up your cup rather roughly from the table, spinning in a tight motion to face back to the balcony door and making your way towards it.

"Whoa, whoa," he calls out as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead, taking a gentle hold of your wrist. "That’s what this is about?" He gently tugs your arm, trying to get you to turn around. But you don’t budge. "Is this about earlier?" Your jaw clenches, fighting against saying yes. "Do you… like me?"

"You know I like you." You tell him, still facing the door. You don’t want to turn around. Because even though you aren’t drunk enough to spill your guts, your eyes are getting a bit misty.

"You know what mean." His voice has gone soft. Still holding your hand, he makes his way to stand between you and the door. Your eyes drop to the ground and a small sad sigh escapes his lips. "Please look at me."

"What do you want from me, huh?" Your voice is suddenly hard as you level your gaze with his and try to keep away the tears. "Do you want me to tell you that I do like you- love you- just so you can go back into that stupid party and back to that dumb girl I know you want-"

"She forced herself on me, I don’t want her!" He interrupts you loudly. His hands move from clasping your wrists to holding you gently in place by the sides of your face. "I never wanted her," his thumbs caress the sides of your face, "I only want you."

"Then why didn’t you say anything?" You question him sadly, your mouth turning down into a frown. "Because I do love you." The mist in your eyes turns into tears and they run down you cheeks. "And when saw that…" you weakly point to the party back inside.

"I only ever wanted you."He quickly wipes the tears off your face with his thumbs. "You were the passion that started it all."

[atotalnerd-writes]

Pretty please post itttttt :)

Okay, but it really is crap…

[atotalnerd-writes]

I have one finished, but I think it's crappy. Do you guys still want me to post it?

[atotalnerd-writes]

Your stories are so cute! I love how they all refer to a certain band. ;) You are very talented!

Thank you so much! And yes… a certain band. *cough* I'm not in love with a certain singer at all… nah… 😁

[atotalnerd-writes]

My ask box is currently closed to prompt submissions.

I love you all for continuing to support my writing blog, but I have to close my ask box for prompts right now. If you send in requests, they will not be put onto the already piling up request list and might end up getting deleted. 

My ask box is still open for comments/questions/anything else, but just not for any requests at the moment. 

I apologize for the inconvenience, but school/work/health always comes first before writing and once things cool down- I will being to write the requested prompts and reopen my ask box for submitting prompts.

[atotalnerd-writes]

Okay, serious question: How many of you think that I would actually be good enough to be paid as a writer? Leave a comment or an ask or whatever.

Be blatant, be frank, straight up tell me what you think, because I’m thinking of taking a good chunk of time and writing a book to try and get published somehow.

[lllllllets-love]

Yes!!!! Go for it girl!!!! If you get a book published, I’ll be first in line to buy it

[atotalnerd-writes]

Good to know! Ha ha.

[atotalnerd-writes]

Now on Wattpad, along with other things.

[atotalnerd-writes]

FYI- I am now on Wattpad (@atotalnerd-writes)

[atotalnerd-writes]

Okay, serious question: How many of you think that I would actually be good enough to be paid as a writer? Leave a comment or an ask or whatever.

Be blatant, be frank, straight up tell me what you think, because I’m thinking of taking a good chunk of time and writing a book to try and get published somehow.

[atotalnerd-writes]

One Word Prompt Challenge: "Elegant"

Requested by Anonymous 

Shopping for your wedding dress was supposed to be fun. Or at least that’s what your best friend, who was also your maid of honor, had told you. Once you see it, it will be worth the wait. She had said. You had believed her the first time she said it to you. But that was two shops ago. Two shop and ten dresses ago. And ad the number kept getting higher, you were starting to doubt the statement more and more. 

You had what you wanted all set out in your mind. You had thought about it a lot over the years. You wanted nothing to do with anything that was ‘in your face’ with rhinestones or ruffles or anything too fancy. You wanted something that was elegant and classy. But you also wanted it to be simple and in your self designated price range. And this proved to be quite a hard thing to do, because most of the dresses looked fine on the rack- not on you. Each time you came out in a dress, you immediately found something wrong with it and scampered back into the white dressing room. The first five had too many fancy items and the next three didn’t flatter your body type. The last two had almost been perfect, except they were light-years from being in your budget range. And that had lead you to where you were now, standing outside of shop three-dress eleven waiting on the racks inside.

"Come on," Your best friend tugged lightly on your arm to try and get you to follow the rest of your group into the shop. "Its not going to bite." You gave her a groan in response. "I promise, last one and you can forget about it for a week."

Your head rolled slowly so you were face to face with her. “Promise?”

She held two fingers up. “Scouts honor.”

You let her drag you into the shop, letting her guide you around the racks until you spotted something you liked. You bypassed the ballgowns and went straight for the simple dresses while your best friend ventured off into the store- probably never to be seen again (without a dress for you that was). You thumbed through a rack or two , before giving up with a sigh and turning around to find your friend with her arms full of dresses. 

She pushed you into a dressing room and left you to get changed with the help of a store assistant. “If you don’t come out wearing a dress…” she warned, leaving the threat empty and wagging a finger at you. You huffed a sigh when you thought she was out of range, but she still caught it. “I heard that!” she called through the door, “Don’t make me call your fiance!”

As you shifted the first dress up and over your hips and then the second one after that, you could tell that you were going to get in trouble from her. You didn’t like any of the fits.The tops all were fit snug to your torso, which you thought was totally unflattering and not elegant at all. But at least you liked the train and skirt on another. Against your better judgment, you went out in the dress you considered the best of the worst. There were a few gasps when you reached the area in front of the couch that seated your friends and it nearly made you turn back around in embarrassment.

"Oh honey." Your mother exclaimed in a whisper.

You stared at the ground and wrung your hands. “The, um- the top,” You ran your hands along the material. “It doesn’t fit me right.” You peak up at yourself in the three mirrors in front of you. And you find that, in the light, the dress is actually everything that you had wanted.

"That dress is beyond elegant on you." Your maid of honor tells you, running her hands over your shoulders to sooth your worries. "If he doesn’t cry over you at the alter, I’ll punch him myself."

[atotalnerd-writes]

When will the next prompt be uploaded? (No pressure)

Probably Monday or Tuesday night, I have an idea for it but I haven’t had the chance to write it!

You guys really like my writing that much? Wow, I’m flattered :D