I started this blog as part of my post-grad creative nonfiction course. The fun thing about this is that I get to choose what my blogâs focus will be. So, Iâm going to document my progress as I outline (and possibly draft) my first novel. Whichever idea that turns out to be.
To be honest with you guys, this experience isâŠÂ new for me. Not the Tumblr part; Iâve been on Tumblr for upwards of a decade. Whatâs new for me is posting things about original stories. Documenting my progress like this consistently makes it real for me. Like, âOh, God. Am I really about to do this?â This will be a good thing, though, because itâll give me the push I need to finally commit to this project.
I have three ideas that Iâve narrowed down for my first novel. Iâm just⊠This is the part that has me stuck. I donât know which one to sit down with and dedicate time to. The tentative titles for my top three ideas are Project W, High Above the Castle Walls, and Project Z. Project W is a Bridgerton-esque love story between the Prince Regent and an advisorâs daughter. High Above the Castle Walls is a mystery surrounding five teenagers and a string of disappearances that span over decades. Project Z is Romeo-and-Juliet-esque love story between a Queen whose nation is at war and one of her knights.
just wanted to pop on here to tell you two things:
1. please be patient with me as i establish my new writing routine as iâm now back in school and working full time. i do plan on catching up on everything, but it will take some time.
2. the post above is from my blog @ejwritess where i post about original pieces. if you could show that some love, i will be forever grateful!!
i love you all, and itâs so good to be back. â€ïž
I started this blog as part of my post-grad creative nonfiction course. The fun thing about this is that I get to choose what my blogâs focus will be. So, Iâm going to document my progress as I outline (and possibly draft) my first novel. Whichever idea that turns out to be.
To be honest with you guys, this experience isâŠÂ new for me. Not the Tumblr part; Iâve been on Tumblr for upwards of a decade. Whatâs new for me is posting things about original stories. Documenting my progress like this consistently makes it real for me. Like, âOh, God. Am I really about to do this?â This will be a good thing, though, because itâll give me the push I need to finally commit to this project.
I have three ideas that Iâve narrowed down for my first novel. Iâm just⊠This is the part that has me stuck. I donât know which one to sit down with and dedicate time to. The tentative titles for my top three ideas are Project W, High Above the Castle Walls, and Project Z. Project W is a Bridgerton-esque love story between the Prince Regent and an advisorâs daughter. High Above the Castle Walls is a mystery surrounding five teenagers and a string of disappearances that span over decades. Project Z is Romeo-and-Juliet-esque love story between a Queen whose nation is at war and one of her knights.
just wanted to pop on here to tell you two things:
1. please be patient with me as i establish my new writing routine as iâm now back in school and working full time. i do plan on catching up on everything, but it will take some time.
2. the post above is from my blog @ejwritess where i post about original pieces. if you could show that some love, i will be forever grateful!!
i love you all, and itâs so good to be back. â€ïž
I know. Guys, believe me, I know. Alright, now that we are ignoring my unintentional months-long hiatus, I come bringing a gift.
(I thought about also writing this scenario for another fandom that Iâve recently fixated on again. Say, the one with the two brothers and the gay angel. Let me know if you would want to see that.)
May also end up rewriting this one. Not sure if I like how it turned out.
So, hereâs the scenario:
tw: creepy men in convenience stores
You and Aaron met years ago when youâd been finishing up law school and heâd still been a federal prosecutor. Somehow, the two of you strike up a conversation, and you offhandedly mention to him that youâre looking for work now that youâve gotten your degree. He pauses for a moment, purses his lips, then says that he has a friendâa fellow prosecutor, you later find outâin search of a legal aide. He tells you that if you wanted him to, he could talk to his friend about setting up an interview. This takes you by surprise. A man that doesnât even know you, a man thatâs only talked to you for about five minutes, is offering to help you get a job. Aaron laughs when you tell him as much, and he tells you that over the years, heâs learned to trust his instincts, and his instincts are telling him that youâre worth the risk. He then hands you a card with his phone number on it and says to call him to set up the interview.
(No one but you has to know about the tiny zaps of electricity that shoot up your arm when you take the card from him. Nor do they have to know about the disappointment that simmers in your gut when you notice the gold band resting at the base of his left ring finger.)
For the first year or so, your friendship with Aaron was... difficult to navigate. Not because of anything he said or did but because of what he was. Aaron being a married man really limited what you felt comfortable doing within the boundaries of your budding friendship. You couldnât text him as often as youâd like to because of the fight it could cause between Aaron and Haley. Itâs for that same reason that you donât feel comfortable inviting him to meet you for coffee or to grab a bite to eat after work. You know that you arenât doing anything wrong, that your intentions with Aaron are pure, but you also respect his relationship enough to make certain that you donât give Haley a reason to suspect otherwise. So, that means settling for sending him a text every now and then to check up on his familyânot just himâand see how they were doing.
Less than two years into your friendship with Aaron, he tells you that he and Haley are getting a divorce.
(The giddy, child-like grin that spreads across your face when you hear the news makes you feel like shitty person. But you canât help it.)
Aaronâs divorce serves as a blessing in disguise. Not just for you but for him, too. It gives the two of you a fresh start, a chance to properly develop your friendship without the fear of stirring up trouble for Aaron at home. You two texting maybe a couple of times a month quickly turns into you two texting nearly every day, even if you donât really have anything to tell him about. Throughout the day, the two of you would send each other things that remind you of the other, random musings youâd have, just anything that would keep the conversation going. The most liberating thing about Aaron becoming a single man again was that you had the freedom to ask him if he wanted to grab coffee on the way into the office, even if he and the team wanted to grab drinks after a case, or if he and Jack wanted to come to the park near your apartment for a picnic.
Fast forward to the present, almost four years later.
Itâs just after midnight on a random Saturday night, and Aaronâs just about to head to bed when he feels his phone buzz in the pocket of his sweats.
He mutters something along the lines of if this is another fucking case before he picks up his cell, puts it to his ear, and answers with a soft, sleepy, âHotchner.â
âHey, love. I know itâs late, but I was hoping we could meet up.â Thereâs something in your voice that feels off to Aaron, but he canât quite put his finger on it.
His mind screeches to a halt when he processes what you say to him. Hey, love, youâd greeted him, the words coming out of your mouth like it was every-day thing. Like it was something you called him all the time.
Thatâs the first red flag.
âY/N?â He asks. âIs everything alright? Are you alright?â
âNo,â you laugh, a cute, breathy sound that wouldnât be out of place to anyone else, to anyone that doesnât know you the way Aaron does. That laugh sets off the alarm bells in the older manâs head. âNo, I promise itâs nothing major. I just thought we could grab a snack.â You pause then say, âOh, thereâs a sale on those gummy bears you like at the convenience store on Fifth and Kennedy. Want me to get you some?â
Aaron doesnât like gummy bears. You know that he doesnât like gummy bears. Why would youâ?
Aaron's body starts buzzing with adrenaline, like he got a shot of espresso straight to the head. The convenience store on Fifth and Kennedy. Aaron knows where that is; itâs only a couple of blocks from your apartment.
âAre you in danger?â He asks.
âYeah,â you tell him. âIâll just put it with my stuff. Donât worry about it, love.â
âDo you need me to come to you?â
âYes, baby, Iâm sure. Itâs not a problem at all. Oh, your sister mentioned something to me about coming to see her this weekend. She lives in New York now, right? How long do you think the drive will be?â
Aaron glances down at his watch. âIâm ten minutes from you. Stay out of sight until then, okay?â
âYeah, okay,â you agree. âIt shouldnât be too bad then, especially if we leave early enough. Hopefully, we wonât get caught up in the usual weekend traffic.â You huff out something between a laugh and a tired sigh. âIâll be there in a few minutes. I love you.â Then, the call ends. Biting out a curse, Aaron slips on his running shoes, grabs his zip-up and his keys, and rushes out the door.
Under normal circumstances, it takes Aaron roughly ten minutes to get to your apartment. That night, it takes him a little under five. He zips through the late-night Virginia traffic at speeds heâs surprised he didnât get pulled over for. He haphazardly parks the SUV before making his way to the store.
He doesnât even have to go into the store to find you. Youâre standing just outside the double doors when he gets there, your figure illuminated by the harsh LED lights overhead.
âY/N,â he calls to you, his steps hurrying into a jog. âY/N, are you alright?â
You lift your head up to meet his gaze, and he watches you blink at him, as if youâre surprised that he came. âYou came,â you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
âYou needed me,â he says. And thatâs all that matters. âYouâre okay now?â
You nod. âThe guy ran as soon as the kid behind the counter threatened to call the cops. He didnât do anything, but I just... something about him weirded me out.â
âTrust your instincts,â he tells you, like the night youâd first met. âTheyâre usually right.â
âThe night we met, you said that your instincts were telling you that I was worth the risk. Were they right?â
With as much confidence as he has in you, which is a lot, he says, âThey were. Youâre worth the risk.â
itâs the fact that the protective!aaron scenario is turning into a full fucking fic at this point. i meanâ
âHey, love. I know itâs late, but I was hoping we could meet up.â Thereâs something in your voice that feels off to Aaron, but he canât quite put his finger on it.
His mind screeches to a halt when he processes what you say to him. Hey, love, youâd greeted him, the words coming out of your mouth like it was every-day thing. Like it was something you called him all the time.
Thatâs the first red flag.
âY/N?â He asks. âIs everything alright? Are you alright?â
âNo,â you laugh, a cute, breathy sound that wouldnât be out of place to anyone else, to anyone that doesnât know you the way Aaron does. That laugh sets off the alarm bells in the older manâs head. âNo, I promise itâs nothing major. I just thought we could grab a snack.â You pause then say, âOh, thereâs a sale on those gummy bears you like at the convenience store on Fifth and Kennedy. Want me to get you some?â
Aaron doesnât like gummy bears. You know that he doesnât like gummy bears.
drunk!aaron confessing his feelings to reader/saying that he should've married them instead of haley. with a sad smile, they tell aaron, "i wish you were sober."
reader doesn't tell aaron that they've thought that too, that they wished aaron had married them instead of haley. when aaron is sober again the next morning and asks reader if he said anything embarrassing to them the previous night, reader tells him no.
aaron's drunken admission is something reader will take to their grave.
