FanFic, The Forest of Drizzling Rain

The Rain, It Pours ch. 5 – A Forest of Drizzling Rain Fanfic

– 1st Chapter –

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Suga’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and his already thin lips pursed tighter together until they were as pale as his face. Shiori couldn’t be sure, but she thought he looked somewhat… disappointed? Even so, she didn’t get a chance to ask as he turned his face away from her view to stare up at the blinking neon sign. It looked like the “B” was about to fade out soon.

“A… date?”

Shiori bobbed her head, though Suga wasn’t looking to see it.

“Yes. If you plan on speaking to an entire counsel of strangers, you’re going to have to get used to speaking to at least one stranger, right? What better way than a date?”

Shiori could barely make out the shift in his gaze from the sign to her as his dark eyes lost the reflecting green shimmer.

“I won’t be… dating the counsel… though.”

Shiori sneered,

“Oh, I don’t know. The mayor seemed pretty intent on seeing you this morning.”

Suga let out a terrified gasp before turning away completely. Shiori laughed louder then and poked his shoulder.

“Hey, you know I was just kidding. It’s just a joke.”

He turned his head to peer at her over his shoulder.

“Is… the date a joke?”

Her hand fell away from his back, and she stared into his eyes. They were dimly illuminated from the word “Mountain,” but that only intensified the shadows lurking at their edges. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious or naïve again. She hesitantly took in a breath.

“No.”

He stared at her a few seconds longer, all in silence except for the occasional laughter escaping the tavern. Finally, he sighed, and turned back to fully face the entrance. She eyed his chest as he took in a long breath.

“Well… let’s get this over with.”

He sounded pained, and she couldn’t help the sudden stinging in her chest.

Upon entering the bar, Suga and Shiori were immediately enveloped by a cloud of smoke. At least five smokers sat at the main bar, taking long drags, as if in long conversation with one another. Shiori fanned her hands and wrinkled her nose in distaste while Suga hacked and turned his face away. One of the smokers, a man with burly arms and a beard eyed the pair from across the room. He stared for a few seconds, then took another long drag.

Shiori swallowed, now suddenly regretting the idea. Then, she looked at Suga, saw the horror in his face, the uncomfortable squirming in his hands and body, and immediately took his hand. Shocked, he jumped, then eyed their clasped hands.

She smiled.

“Dance with me.”

Suga’s eyes widened.

“I-I don’t…”

But she didn’t give him a chance to finish.

Already, she was dragging him to the dance floor… if you could call it that. It wasn’t a very large tavern. It had actually once been used for town meetings. Then, the museum was built up, and with it came the tourists. With tourists came money, and with money came a need for more entertainment. So, the town hall was retired, and the tavern was born. The dance floor had once been the waiting area. They knocked the wall down to put in a bar and open up the meeting area for the drinks and the coolers.

There was no place left for a stage, so they simply marked off the performance area with police tape. It gave the entire bar a grungy feel that turned most of the older, more proper folks away. It drew in the young people and the grunge like flies, though. The stage brought in all the dreamers in the town. Of course, most of the dreamers were just kids who brought their guitar to class and liked to tell their friends they would be leaving for the city once they heard back from their “record label.”

Then, there were the real ones. The ones that you’d see once on stage, then gone the next. Little blips of talent that sparked in the small town, only to be swept away by life and responsibility the next. It was just another sad fact of the small town life.

Unfortunately, there would be no dreamers at all tonight. In their place, the tavern owner had set up a stool with a static-y boom box resting on top. It was currently playing an ad for car insurance.

Shiori swallowed as she stood awkwardly holding hands with Suga at the center of an empty dance floor. No one was looking at them. Sure, there was the occasional glance from a questionably young youth at the bar, but it was only with minor curiosity. It wasn’t long before he turned back around to nurse his questionably dark drink.

She looked up to stare at Suga. He was mindlessly tapping his foot, and she wanted nothing more than to drag him off the dance floor. Then, she saw his smile.

He was looking around the bar just smiling. He was just happy to be there, and she barely took note of him squeezing her hand.

Her face was burning. She had never been so happy to be in the dim lighting of a bar. Soon, a song began. The static was too much to make out the words, but there was plenty of beat. She swept in front of Suga, led his held hand to her hip, then wrapped her arms around his neck. His other hand easily found its way to her other hip.

Even with such a natural move, his eyes were so wide they were bugging out of his head. Shiori couldn’t help laughing.

“Calm down. We just have to get the ball rolling. It’s science. Start the pack behavior. We dance, others will come out and dance, and you’ll be dancing with a fine lady in no time.”

She could see his throat working as he swallowed.

“You’re… a pretty fine lady.”

Shiori frowned, but didn’t respond. Instead, she got them moving. With a gradual step forward, their bodies were pressed together. He still stood, lost and frozen. She growled and trailed a hand up his neck, into his hair, and pulled his face down to hers. They weren’t kissing. They wouldn’t be kissing, but you wouldn’t know any better looking on from the outside. Their breath was hot, steaming, and it wasn’t long before Shiori had him moving back and forth along the floor. His steps weren’t fluid, but he was at least moving in step with her.

He didn’t have a choice, Shiori was running the show. They took a few more steps before Shiori whispered,

“Now, dip me… but don’t get too far from me.”

He went to ask her,

“What?”

But he never got an answer as she jerked back away from him, but kept her hand dug into his hair. They leaned together, his face leaving hers, but his lips and breath trailed down her neck until it heated her collarbone.

There was a low gasp in the crowd, and now Shiori could see a few of the patrons had found their way to the floor and were dancing around them, including the questionably young drinker who was thrashing around in his own corner. Shiori smiled, then Suga pulled her back up so they were face-to-face again.

“W-what… is this?”

His voice was throaty and rough, more of a growl, but still labored by his stutter. She smiled against his mouth,

“Fun?”

She could feel him smile back.

They danced around a while longer before they were both sweating due to the sheer amount of body heat surrounding them. Suga begged her to go back to the bar, and she eventually relented. The people around them were absolutely suffocating. She aimlessly wiped at her forehead, trying to keep the sweat from stinging her eyes. Suga held her hand, and they waded through the ocean of bodies to the less inhabited bar.

There, Suga ordered two waters, which earned him a long stare from the bartender. He didn’t notice, and when the bartender met Shiori’s glaring gaze, he apologetically ducked behind the bar to fix their glasses. Suga met her gaze, and she smiled at him. He smiled back and greedily sucked on his water.

Shiori was just beginning to nurse her own drink when a bright voice piped over the crowd.

“Hey! Those were some sexy moves!”

Shiori spluttered when she caught sight of the busty blonde sauntering up to them. She didn’t look to be from the village, much less anywhere in the country. She was a foreign sight to behold, and her accent was strange and only made her that much more alluring.

She smiled brightly at both of them, though when she spoke, she solely focused on Suga.

“What a show, and what a lovely couple. How long have you been dancing together?”

Suga went to speak, but Shiori slammed down her glass, catching both of their attention.

“Not long. We’re not together, actually.”

The woman perked up.

“Oh? I wouldn’t have known. Name’s Charlie- well, Charlotte, but that sounds old, ya know? I prefer Charlie. I’m from the states. No dance partner to speak of… here or there, ya know?”

Shiori smiled while listening, but when she turned away to get a sip of her drink, she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Suga, on the other hand, seemed intrigued.

“Hello… I’m Suga. This… this is Shiori. Do you… like to dance?”

Charlie released a burst of laughter, which had Shiori spluttering her drink again.

“Do I? I’m no good alone, but I can still cut a rug.”

Suga’s eyes widened.

“You… cut… rugs?”

Shiori reached out to take his attention and explain the expression, but Charlie leaned in and took hold of his shoulder.

“Not literally, duh. It just means I just… ya know, dance pretty well, I guess. If that makes sense?”

Suga’s face was blank, but he nodded anyway. Shiori knew better, but she didn’t say anything and continued to slurp down her water. She bitterly stared at the clear liquid, wishing she had ordered the drinks.

“So, I was wondering… I know you just cut the rug up yourself, already, but I don’t have a dance partner myself, and I’d really like a dance. So, mind if I steal your partner?”

Shiori looked up, shocked to find the pair of them staring at her. Had she just asked Shiori for permission? To dance with Suga? What did it matter what she thought? She met Suga’s eyes, but he was somewhere else. He was there, but it was like he was looking through her, rather than at her. She didn’t know what to say.

So, she nodded.

Charlie squealed and grabbed Suga’s hands, knocking the glass of water to the ground without so much as a thought.

“Come on! I love this song!”

Suga looked back at Shiori to say something, but she couldn’t hear his soft voice over the crowd swallowing them on the dance floor. She tried to catch sight of them and sat for just a few seconds longer at the bar, idly sipping away at her drink.

But eventually, she grew tired over the stale smell and the creeping sense of dread weighing down her chest. She wanted to tell Suga goodbye, but she would never find him in the crowd.

So, alone, she walked in the darkness. The air smelled of rain, and Shiori couldn’t help missing Suga.

To be continued…

– 1st Chapter –

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< Previous Chapter

Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

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Personal Posts

Why I love to read?

038

When I was I bored, I read Junie B. Jones and laughed at her antics.

When my sister was sick and away in the hospital, I could pretend she was staying with Amelia Bedelia and would be coming home soon.

When my parents were divorcing, I realized it wasn’t as scary as the Goosebumps books stuffed beneath my bed.

When I was angry, I could calm down in the arms of my favorite teen heart throbs (Tamani from Wings and Dimitri from Vampire Academy, I’m looking at you).

When I was alone and felt like the world may crumble around me, I could run and run and run forever with the characters in Stephen King’s Cell.

Even today, when I don’t think I’m going to make it, I can pick any book on my shelf and escape for awhile. That’s what books are – glimpses. Glimpses into worlds I will never see. I’ve made friends that I can’t talk to, met people that don’t exist (or did, but don’t anymore). I’ve had adventure after adventure – I’ve had a life full of impossibles made possible by words on a page. I’ve lived so many lives, all while never leaving the comfort of mine. Why I love to read?

Reading has made my life richer than any job or promotion ever could. Reading is happiness.

Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

P.S.

And parents, please read to your kids.

What I've Read

What I’ve Read: Wool by Hugh Howey

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This was completely out of my comfort zone. I have lurked in the YA fiction section for what feels like my whole life. Then, one day, I stepped out of that isle in Barnes & Noble and saw this beauty.

Why did I pick this book you may ask?

First, check out that beautiful cover. The colors pop. Then, I remembered hearing about this author and this book. He self-published, much like myself. Finally, this book is super hyped. At least it is on my Google+ page, anyway. So, I figured I’d hop on the hype train and see what it was all about for myself.

I’m so glad I did.

Wool is actually an omnibus of a series Howey wrote based in the walls of an underground silo – a single marker in the vast, desert landscape surrounding it. The people within are a memory of what humanity once was. These people live on separate floors of the silo, and each floor has its own purpose. There’s a floor for the hydroponic farms, a floor for maintenance, IT, ranching, butchering, etc. As one might imagine, there is also a hierarchy built within the confines of this silo. The middle floors would be considered middle class, the upper floors are higher class, and the bottom floors are- Well, you get the picture. Ultimately, everyone functions within the same guidelines everyday. If one doesn’t, he/she gets sent to do the cleaning.

The story starts by following a man who has elected himself as a cleaner. The cleaning is essentially someone leaving the silo and wiping off the cameras outside, which are covered in grime from never ending dust storms outside, so that the people in the silo can see the outside world on the giant wall screens on the top floor. People get anxious when there hasn’t been a cleaning in a while. They suit him up in a very astronaut-like garb and send him outside. However, when he makes it out, he sees that the world around him is lush, green, and very much alive, unlike what is projected to them through the cameras. The man, joyous with this discovery, cleans the cameras in sympathy for those who will never see the outside. Then, he makes a run for the hills. However, before he can reach the top, the screen in his suit goes black, his oxygen tank stops working, and the wind outside rips the very suit and skin from his bones. The world around him is dead.

And this is only the beginning of the story. The remainder follows a young mechanic named Juliette (or Jules, as she prefers). That is where the story really takes off as she discovers hidden truths within the confines of her silo.

This is a book I couldn’t put down. There was never a slow moment, and I couldn’t seem to turn the pages fast enough to see what happened next. Definitely one for the bookshelf.

Purchased? Oh yes.

What do you think? Will you be adding this to your TBR pile? Have you already read it? What did you think? Let me know, and comment below!

Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

Want to review my books? Click here!

These posts are for book discussion and to express my overly-fangirly nature over certain books and series. Though I already have an extensive library with plenty of reading material, I’m always looking out for new or interesting titles. Not only is this for me, but for other writers! Often times, writers forget they started off as readers. Support your fellow authors and read!

WARNING: SELF-PROMO IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE COMMENTS
It will be considered spam and deleted immediately. However, if you would like me to buy and read your book, I’ll gladly take recommendations on this page. Fill out the contact sheet with a link to your book, and I will get to reading! While I will read most recommendations, I won’t review them all. If the book in question would probably get less than three stars, I’ll simply keep the review to myself and either email the author directly (if they themselves sent me a contact sheet), or just not discuss the book at all. I want to recommend books that I will read, and that I think others will enjoy. No need to embarrass someone in the name of reviewing.

Thank you for your understanding.

What I've Read

What I’ve Read: Ico Castle in the Mist by Miyuki Miyabe

035

As I’ve written before, Ico is one of my favorite video games of all time. Video games and books have taught me so much about myself and about writing, it would be foolish to try to separate one from the other. When I discovered that an author had been given the rights to write a book based on the story and world of Ico, you can imagine my excitement. My favorite video game in book form? What is there not to love?

Well, let me tell you, this book is nostalgia goodness. I felt like I was playing the game again. A lot of the puzzles showed up in here, and even the descriptions of the castle mimicked a lot of the stages of the video game. The lore she layered onto this world is an absolute treat for anyone who has played the game and wants to strengthen their immersion while playing.

For those who don’t know the general premise:

Ico Castle in the Mist (and Ico the video game) follows a young boy, born with horns, as he traverses the mysterious castle he has seemingly been sacrificed to. There, he meets a girl by the name of Yorda who is unable to speak to him. She has been trapped here in a giant metal bird cage, and, once freed, she is too weak to travel alone. Ico must take Yorda by the hand and lead her through the castle to save both himself and her. Fighting off shadow creatures with horns much like his and solving strange puzzles, Ico learns the secrets of the castle and of Yorda, all while trying to find his way home.

Will people enjoy this who have played it or who are playing it?

Absolutely.

Can people who have never played the game still enjoy it?

… meh? Is that a good answer? It’s hard for me to say since I have played the game. So, I read it from the perspective of a gamer playing a game. This isn’t like reading a walk-through, but it’s got a few moments where it feels like I should be playing while reading. There were moments where I thought the author might be playing as she was writing certain scenes. Those sections would probably drag to those who haven’t played the game. While it helped me immerse myself in the world again, and it tickled my giddy, nostalgic self, the stage descriptions and puzzles may seem trivial and unnecessary to newcomers.

I think you could enjoy it if you like high fantasy writing without the high fantasy elements. Otherwise, you may get bored.

Even so, this is definitely one that goes on my “favorites” shelf.

Worth the Purchase?  Most definitely.

What do you think? Based on this description, would you read it? Have you read it? Have you played the game? Let me know, and comment below.

Thanks for reading!

-Lissy

Want to review my books? Click here!

These posts are for book discussion and to express my overly-fangirly nature over certain books and series. Though I already have an extensive library with plenty of reading material, I’m always looking out for new or interesting titles. Not only is this for me, but for other writers! Often times, writers forget they started off as readers. Support your fellow authors and read!

WARNING: SELF-PROMO IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE COMMENTS
It will be considered spam and deleted immediately. However, if you would like me to buy and read your book, I’ll gladly take recommendations on this page. Fill out the contact sheet with a link to your book, and I will get to reading! While I will read most recommendations, I won’t review them all. If the book in question would probably get less than three stars, I’ll simply keep the review to myself and either email the author directly (if they themselves sent me a contact sheet), or just not discuss the book at all. I want to recommend books that I will read, and that I think others will enjoy. No need to embarrass or completely wreck someone in the name of reviewing.

Thank you for your understanding.

Personal Posts

My Birthday Giveaway (21 years in the making)!

Howdy y’all!

Today just so happens to be my 21st birthday, and rather than drown myself in legal alcohol purchases, I have decided to give a gift to YOU… er, well, FIVE of you, that is.

My book The Mind, the Body, a horror short story collection, came out last year in October. I purchased five author copies, signed them, and have started a Goodreads giveaway. Anyone living in the UK, US, Canada, and Australia can enter for FREE to receive one of the five copies. All you have to do is make a Goodreads account and enter here: CLICK ME!

And while you’re there, add me as a friend (if you want to become a fan, that’s cool, but I’d much rather make ya my friend, ya know?).

Help me celebrate my birthday by making this the best birthday book giveaway in all my 21 years on this Earth (this is my first birthday giveaway, but who’s counting?). Enter, share, and let’s have fun!

Don’t have time to enter today? That’s okay! The giveaway ends March 27th, so you have plenty of time! Just make sure you enter by then, or you will miss your chance at FREE BOOKS!

Finally, thank you all so much for the emails and the posts, wishing me a happy birthday. I can’t thank you all enough for all the kind words and well wishes. You make my heart full.

Thanks for reading and/or entering!

-Lissy

Personal Posts

2 embarrassing reasons why life as an author ISN’T glamorous.

Very rarely do I find things embarrassing. The most embarrassing things are the funniest. So, for the sake of laughter, I share with you two reasons (experiences) that show you why life as a writer (or my life in general) IS NOT glamorous. At all. Not even a little bit.

  1. So, as a full-time student, part-time retail associate, and whenever-time writer, I often find myself creating time where I probably shouldn’t. For example, after a particularly long day of 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. in class and 5:30 p.m. to 10:45 p.m. at work, I found myself filled to the brim with weary inspiration. The moment I stepped through the door, I was already forming what had to be the novel of this generation (it actually ended up being a jumbled up pile of word vomit, but who was judging).It was at this time, approximately 11:10 p.m., I began crafting my masterpiece. I didn’t get done until approximately 2:00 a.m., which gave me about 3 hours of sleep before I had to wake up for my turnaround shift. I quite literally crawled from my desk to my bed and passed out without fuss. Didn’t change clothes. Didn’t shower. Nothing. As you can imagine, I was a sight (and a smell) to behold the next morning.Bleary and monstrous looking, I grumbled and tumbled out of bed into a fresh pile of clothing I had neglected to hang up the day before. Still half-asleep, I happened to find a fresh pair of khakis and my work polo. Without much thought, I slid both on and went on about my way. I’ll spare you the details on the rest of my “morning beauty routine.”

    I arrived at work, we opened the store, and I went on about my business, putting out freight and assisting cashiers. One of my cashiers, however, asked why I wasn’t picking up the store phone. It was then I realized I had forgotten to even pick it up that morning. So, I rushed back to my station to pick it up.

    However, when I went to slide it into my pocket, I realized I had no pockets. Huh. Well, that’s weird. I had just bought those pants not even two days before, and I swore they had, had pockets in them. I stopped, and I assessed myself. I placed my hands at the front of my pants where my pockets should have been, then dragged them around to my back side where my pockets actually were. With a little more feeling around, I also discovered my zipper was back there, too.

    Just then, my manager walked in. The same one that helped me open the store this morning and probably had seen my pants for the last 2 hours that I had been at work, yet hadn’t said anything. So, I straight up asked him,

    “*InsertManagerNameHere* Why didn’t you tell me I had my pants on backwards?”

    He gave me a shrug, then said, “I figured you were trying to make a fashion statement.”

    A fashion statement, indeed.

  2. This story happened long before the first one, but it involves the same manager. However, he didn’t just assume I was making a fashion statement. Perhaps this incident actually led to his action in the first story, or rather the lack thereof. Even worse, maybe now he just assumes I make these kinds of mistakes.As per usual, I had just gotten out of class at 3:00 p.m. and was heading to work for my closing shift. On days where I went to school, then worked, I tended to just wear my uniform to class. I wasn’t there to impress anybody (and I’m still not). So, I didn’t care if people saw me in uniform, and I was just too lazy to change clothes in the middle of the day. Especially since I’d only be wearing them for a few hours anyway.Well, when I got to work, my manager was standing at the door, just surveying the front end. Then, I walked by. There was a noticeable side glance, then a second take, and finally a flat out stare. Sure, I thought it was a bit strange, but it was just another day of work. Plus, I figured if it were that big of a deal, he would’ve said something. However, he didn’t say anything until I had already gotten on the register and checked out two or three people. Then he came up and asked,

    “Alyssa? Do you have a defective shirt?”

    I gave him a look, and rather than just look at my darn shirt, I asked,

    “Why?”

    He pointed.

    “Your tag is on the outside.”

    Then I looked, and behold. Rather than wearing my pants backwards for a few hours, I wore my shirt inside out to school and to work for an entire day. Yet, they still promoted me a few months later. I think they keep me for the lulz.

Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

Want to be a beta reader? Click here to fill out the contact sheet, and let me know!
Want to guest post? Want to trade posts?
Same goes to you! 
Don’t be shy!

Want to check out some books?
CLICK HERE

 

Writing

“Remember why you started writing in the first place.”

An aspiring author just emailed me with a question,

“Hello, I’m an aspiring writer and I was wondering if you have a piece of writing advice for getting through rough patches. ”

I’m still not sure if I gave her the answer she wanted, but I wanted to share my response here… in case anyone else needs the reminder. I know I do.

“My best advice would be to remember why you started writing in the first place. Remember that it wasn’t always a job, but just something you loved to do because you could. I’m not sure if that’s exactly what you were looking for, but maybe that can inspire you to keep going. If not, please feel free to email me again. I’d love to help in anyway I can!”

It wasn’t always a job or something strenuous and tiring. It was, at one time, something you just loved to do. You can’t forget that, even when it does feel very much like a job. Writing was and will always be an extension of yourself. Enjoy it for what it is, not for what will come out of it (that’s just a bonus).

And same goes for you. You can always email me through my About page. I’m always up to talk shop or just to cheer y’all on. Don’t be shy.

Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

 

FanFic, The Forest of Drizzling Rain

The Rain, It Pours ch. 4 – A Forest of Drizzling Rain Fanfic

– 1st Chapter –

Next Chapter >

< Previous Chapter

While she was pleased to find him avidly searching the racks upon racks of clothing, she found his choices a bit drab. Especially with her vibrant assortment of clothes. So far he had picked up a black turtleneck, black slacks, and even a pair of dreadful black leather gloves. He said he was going for a sophisticated style.

It looked more like something a serial killer would wear.

Plus, she was pretty sure she had seen that exact get up, minus the gloves, before. In fact, she was pretty sure he was wearing it now, though she would never point it out to him. No, she was far too happy watching him, concentrated, as he shuffled through rack after rack of black on black clothes.

But there were only so many racks of black, and every once in a while she caught him wiping at his forehead – nervous sweating. It was time to move on to something a little more out of his comfort zone.

Not wanting to spook him anymore than he already was, she cleared her throat as she approached. Even so, he spun around to face her, dropping all of his treasures to the floor in a heap. Shiori winced, watching as his face crumpled and reddened in embarrassment. She quickly knelt down and began collecting his lost wardrobe, trying her best to move on.

“You’ve gotten a good bit here, but,” and she held up the gloves for emphasis, wagging them in Suga’s direction, “how about I show you a few tricks?”

Suga was still blushing, but a smile did eventually find its way to his lips.

Shiori felt a slight tug at the corner of her lips, an involuntary reaction. It felt good, whatever this was. It felt good to smile with Suga again.

Once his sad pile had been collected and left on a display table, Shiori was coaxing him toward a much more colorful section of the men’s department. But there he remained, staring forlorn at his smudge of a wardrobe.

She held out her hand toward him, grumbling to get his attention. It wasn’t until he met her eyes that she spoke.

“Come on. You need some color.”

He swallowed and shifted his gaze to the world of color behind Shiori. He dabbed at his forehead again, then met her gaze once more.

“Alright… but none of that.” He motioned toward a particularly bright rack with different hues and shades of coral.

Shiori couldn’t hold back a snort as she tugged a shirt off the rack. She held it up as if it might be something she was considering.

“I don’t know. Salmon would probably be a good fit, too.”

Just as quickly as the words left her mouth, all the color drained from Suga’s face.

“… fish?”

Another snort tore from her throat before she had a chance to cover her mouth. She hung the shirt back up and shook her head.

“You’re too gullible Suga. It’s just a joke.”

Suga deflated with a sigh, wiping at his forehead one more time before following Shiori into a world of color and “fashion.”

She started with blues, offering him option after option, though all being met with a wrinkled grimace or blank indifference. Positive. Just had to stay positive.

She plucked a turtleneck off the rack, a deep royal blue, the closest to black she could find, and held it up to him. He looked at it, tilted his head to the left, then tilted his head to the right – physically and mentally mulling it over, before smiling.

“I think I can handle color.”

Success. It took everything she had not to dance. Sure, what he chose wasn’t necessarily the most dynamic, but it was different. It showed change, and she would take any little bit she could get.

So, she thrust the article into his hands, demanding, “Change. Now.”

Before he maybe-possibly changed his mind. In the meantime she got him a pair of jeans. No more slacks. Yes, they were more professional, but she really needed him to focus on personable first. If he could prove to be personable, then that would prove he could host the museum. She had a plan, and this was all part of it.

Suga found the nearest fitting room, and when came out, Shiori couldn’t help the purr of approval which left her throat.

The blue sweater, while not an extremely diverse choice, gave him a little more color in his cheeks – something that was always washed out. The jeans, though, made the biggest difference. They were a black wash, putting him in his comfort zone, but the fit was so much better than the standard slacks he always wore that he actually had a figure. A lean, relaxed one, one which anybody would want.

He looked so much more casual. Even his mannerisms, once stiff and awkward, were much more natural and calm. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes trained on Shiori, watching her reaction.

“Well… what do you think?”

What did she think? There were many things she wanted to say. She wanted to tell him he was handsome, that she couldn’t wait to show him off, but all she could manage was light blush with a thumbs up.

The way Suga brightened, someone else might have thought that little motion meant the world to him. Maybe it did, but Shiori would never know, as Suga was already heading toward the counter to purchase his outfit before she had the chance to ask.

Shiori followed close behind, already putting together the next part of her plan.

Once the outfit had been paid for, Shiori and Suga were heading out the door and back toward the smaller shops and restaurants. They were almost back at the mansion by the time Shiori stopped, Suga stumbling to stop beside her.

She peered at the entrance of the Mountain Bar and Tavern. During the day it was a quiet restaurant for all the passerby, but once evening arrived, it lit up with the locals getting off work and the young people ready to drink and party. It was the closest thing to a club this little village had.

Suga’s face scrunched up in obvious distaste.

“What are we doing here?”

Shiori looked up to study his face, a smug grin already finding its way across hers, just as the neon lights of the bar came to life.

“We’re going to find you a date, Suga.”

To be continued…

– 1st Chapter –

Next Chapter >

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Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

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Personal Posts, Writing

3 things you need to do when your hobby begins to feel like a job.

It’s been a long, long, long time since I’ve actually stopped and enjoyed the process of writing. I went through a short phase where I just kept telling myself, “It’s okay, it won’t be long until I can write again,” and that was enough for me. Then it got to the point where I would put things ahead of writing time. I had to prepare for my promotion, then I had to train once I received the promotion, then I had school, then I had tests… Those things do take priority, but even during down time, when none of those things had any hold on me, I still found myself saying, “It’s okay, it won’t be long until I can write again.”

I had become the one person I always blogged about, trying to avoid. I became the writer who talks about writing, but never actually does.

Sure, yes, I do have a lot going on right now. Senior year is right in front of me, and a new job with more responsibilities on top of that eats up a lot of time… Not to mention squeezing in cuddle time with the boyfriend, which I must say I do desperately need during the week. But I have never considered writing a burden or a chore. It never felt that way to me, and even though I have made it out to seem that way, it still doesn’t.

I just miss the time when it was just all for fun, and back when I could sit there and write for hours upon hours, much like how I used to read – another hobby which has met the same terrible fate as writing. Now, life takes so much precedence, I find everything to be tiring. Everything is work, now, even when what I’m doing is supposed to relax me after work.

Writing used to be my life, then reality seeped in and tainted my brain with all of this adult gobbildy-goop.

But, as always, one thing has helped to remedy my terrible predicament: a list. I’ve discovered a few tactics to fight against the adult gobbildy-goop, and while I still haven’t mastered it, I’m getting better. Onward to the list!

  • You have to become double-brained.
    Unfortunately, this is the hardest thing to accomplish, and it certainly sounds that way. You have to separate the work brain from the writing brain. Or, in my case, I have to separate the Work Brain, the School Brain, the Writer Brain, and the Intern Brain. In most cases, I’m sure it’ll be more like triple-brained, or quadruple-brained, but double-brained just sounds cooler. The best way I have found to achieve this is to utilize every second of downtime to decompress. Leave a pause between each brain so you can start fresh. This is easier said than done, especially with all of the wonderful social media to sink hours and hours in. You need time to just turn off for a little while. Have a few moments to yourself with no distraction in any shape or form. This way, you won’t lose your precious down time doing something unproductive both mentally and physically.
  • If you can’t find down time, don’t stop moving.
    As I disclaimed earlier, I still have yet to master this list, especially with the first point. I have a terrible social media addiction. 99% of the time I’m glued to YouTube or FaceBook, just scrolling or passively watching something, not being actively engaged with anything that is happening on my little iPhone screen. So, until I get my media addiction under control, the only real way I’ve found to stay motivated is to ride the high, so to speak. If I just got done with a paper, I immediately move on to one of my personal projects. I “ride the high.” Granted, I do occasionally burn out because I forget I need to stop, but keeping the productive fire alive is one of the best ways to find a renewed spark with your own work. Do what you have to at work or school in the best way you can, then carry that motivation home with you. Do your homework, then move right into your own project.
  • You have to accept that being good at something requires hard work.
    It’s just the way the world works. If I ever want to be a serious author (make money doing what I love), I have to work for it. I need to treat it like a job, like it’s something that just has to be done because it has to be done. Sometimes we have to think of things like they are work if we ever want to get better. Otherwise, my writing will always be “just a hobby.” And even if you don’t necessarily want your hobby to become your means of financial stability, you want to be good, right? Then you have to work for it. Some people have that natural, raw ability, but those are the exceptions. Not the rule.

It’s okay to slack off sometimes, but when you’re making excuses just to avoid doing what you love because it feels too hard… then you’re avoiding progress. There’s a reason it feels like too much work. If it’s not worth fighting for, then is it really worth doing at all?

Let me know, and comment below! Thanks for reading.

-Lissy

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FanFic, Ib

I’ve Lost Her – An Ib Fanfic Read Out Loud

I finally made a YouTube video. It’s been years. Years and years since I was on the YouTubez, but I’m back with read-out-loud versions of my fanfiction work. I may put some original work on there, but for the time being, it’s solely fanfiction. Please watch, and enjoy!

Thanks for reading (and watching)!

-Lissy

Want updates for my fanfiction only? Click here to follow my FanFiction.Net account!

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