Please Please Please Please Reblog If Youre A Writer And Have At Some Point Felt Like Your Writing Is

please please please please reblog if you’re a writer and have at some point felt like your writing is getting worse. I need to know if I’m the only one who’s struggling with these thoughts

I'm trying to prove a point to my brain: Reblog if you think fanfiction does not need sex to be good.

There is a trend I’ve noticed that smut fics tend to be much more popular than anything else and honestly I just want to have something to look at to remind myself and that writing doesn’t have to have sex to be worth putting out into the community.

warp speed chic pt.1

“the shining city on the fritz”

a tranquility base hotel and casino alternate universe.

———

you were in awe.

warm, glimmering lights hung down from the ceiling, the soft glittering reflections painting the walls like a mirrorball. smooth jazz filled the reception area, muddled by various chitter chatter and conversations. the whole atmosphere was warm and welcoming, but you couldn’t help the shiver than ran down your spine when you caught a glance out of one of the big windows, vast space scattered with stars and nebulas stretching on and on above the spectacular intergalactic city lights.

you caught yourself staring, jaw agape.

“can i help you miss?” a man with a sleek suit holding a clipboard looked up at you through his thick rimmed glasses, waiting for an answer. “oh- um, yes! i’m actually supposed to meet um..” you glanced at your card, “alex turner?” the man raised his eyebrows. “mr. turner you say?”

you nodded, not really aware of his importance, or if he had any at all. you just knew you were supposed to meet with him first thing. the man glanced down at his clipboard, shaking his head and scurrying over to the phone at the desk, where he fumbled with the buttons, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose while he waited for someone to pick up.

you clacked your nails on the desk, looking around as you waited, still breath taken by the gorgeous architecture, the way design flowed so beautifully throughout the space. “good evening mr. turner! sorry to trouble you sir, i’ve got someone who’s apparently supposed to be meeting- oh! great, i’ll send her right up. thank you- you too sir.”

you smiled at the man, nervously biting your lip. another dude in a sleek suit came up to the desk, annoyed. “jeremy, i’m the phone guy. what are you doing?” the man with the thick glasses, presumably named jeremy, rolled his eyes. “mark, i don’t want to hear it. go take this young ladies luggage up to her room,” he snapped back, quickly clacking away on his keyboard. “room 505.” mark scoffed, mustering a fake smile for you as he took your luggage and scurried away.

“sorry about him. he’s got a knack for directing calls... anyway, mr. turner’s been expecting you, follow me.” you smile and nod awkwardly, following him as he treks down a long, red carpeted hallway.

———

turns out, it’s a little frightening riding the elevator up to the top floor. you’ve never been too afraid of heights, but this elevator is a round tube of pure glass, giving you a chill inducing view of all the buildings as the lift rises, just getting higher and higher, the tops of the neon buildings getting lower and lower.

it was frightening for sure, but interesting nonetheless. the booming metro city outside was a design of neon lights and intricate architecture. surely there were many lives and different storylines sprawling and networking throughout the city, as there was everywhere but it seemed so much more captivating on the moon. you wondered what it was like to live here.

once the elevator reached the peak of the building, dinging as the doors slid open, you happily slid out into the hallway. “go straight down the hall, through that big door. that’s his office.” you nodded, a little intimidated now. “thank you sir.” he smiled. “have a wonderful evening miss.”

and with that he was gone, the elevator dinging once more as it closed, followed by the low hum of the lift descending back down, leaving you on your own. the top floor was eerily quiet, the lights dim. you took a deep breath before walking towards the huge door at the end of the hall, noticing the shiny gold plaque in the middle that read alexander turner, founder of tranquility base hotel & casino.

great. you were set to be talking to the goddamn owner of this place. you seemed very mentally unprepared, all you knew is that you would be working on designing the new wing that was just built, along with a team of designers. of course you were qualified for the job, and it was an honor to design for a place this spectacular, you were just a bit intimidated.

you quickly fluffed up your hair and smoothed down your shirt before knocking, your stomach knotting up. a muffled shuffling sound followed by a few heavy footsteps were heard from behind the door before it swung open.

the man that greeted you on the other side was quite striking. you didn’t quite know who you were expecting, but he was much younger than you imagined, probably no more of an age gap of 3 years between you and him, you assumed. the man wore a crisp, perfectly tailored navy blue suit, the cream button up below equally sleek. his dark hair was slicked back, his vampire-esque hairline on display.

“hello, it’s lovely to have you, i’m alex,” he shook your hand and you smiled, trying not to show your nerves as you introduced yourself. “come, have a seat,” he moved your chair out from under the desk, sitting in his own across from you after you’d sat down.

his office was a bit of a contrast from the rest of the establishment. instead of sleek, polished furniture and vast space, the room inhabited more of a homey, lived in essence. you could tell he’d actually done work here. mahogany bookcases lined the whole wall behind his desk, sprawling with books and journals. various paintings scattered the walls, an occasional sticky note or reminder stuck to a golden frame. instead of overhead lighting, vintage lamps scattered the room, basking the space in a comforting warmth that soothed your nerves.

he ran a hand through his gelled hair, fidgeting with the fold of his sleeves. “we’re really excited to have you here. i’ve got to say, i’m a big fan of your work.” this comment surprised you. “thank you, it’s an honor, really.” you smiled, your cheeks starting to hurt. “i just wanted to see you so i could get you all set up. just before you arrived, i emailed you everything you need to know, so um- just be sure to go over that.”

you nodded attentively. “tomorrow you’ll have a meeting with the other designers in the conference hall, which shouldn’t be tricky to find, there’s a map of the place attached to the email as well,” the man rambled on a bit, telling you a bit about the place, sometimes starting sentences just to never finish them, getting lost in his own thoughts.

you liked the way he spoke, his accent, the dreamlike quality his tone held. “any questions?” he chimed after telling you about the library. you shook your head. you had a lot of questions for him, so many you couldn’t even pick, and plus, you didn’t want to worry him anymore, so you saved those questions for another time, storing them in your mind as if they were books on his shelves. alex sat up, smoothing a hand over his blazer.

“well then, i’ll walk you to your room,” he smiled. “oh, that’s alright it’s no worry,” you stood up. surely he was busy, you didn’t want to bother him. he tilted his head. “do you know where it is?” you were silent for a moment, thinking of the plethora of hallways this place had, your chance of finding the suite on your own was small. “no…” you shook your head, smiling awkwardly.

———

“here you are, room 505,” he smiled, holding out a keycard for you. the walk to the suite area had been silent for the most part. the hotel was starting to quiet down since it was getting late. every so often he’d look back and give you a gentle smile before turning back, his heeled boots clacking against the sleek wood flooring. he was so intriguing to you, unlike anyone you’d ever met. you wouldn’t be surprised if he melted into the shadows, seeping away into darkness, like some sort of creature. you couldn’t explain it.

“thank you, mr. turner,” you smiled, grabbing the keycard. “it’s no problem, and call me alex,” he added, stepping away slightly as he realized he might’ve been a bit too close for comfort. “it was nice to meet you, alex.” he grinned. “it’s been a pleasure, have a wonderful night.”

as his footsteps faded off into the darkness, you held your keycard up to the scanner, eyes widening when the door clicked and swung open.

the place was stunning. a large, circular bed sat in the middle of the room, adorned in plush maroon and silky red pillows, with a matching maroon comforter. a white sheer lace bed curtain was tied to each of the four wooden posts, making a gorgeous canopy. the room was tasteful, soft, consisting of intricately designed carpets, sleek 70’s style furniture, and a plasma tv that slid down from the ceiling with a click of a button.

you almost squealed at the sight of the bathroom. the rooms porcelain tiles were pink and cream, matching with the patchwork carpet that sat in front of the clawfoot tub, which was filled with expensive soaps. you opened another sliding door to find a nearly empty walk-in closet, a cherry red silk robe hung on one of the racks, a matching pair of slippers below.

once you were snug in bed, practically melting into the mattress, being engulfed by the soft pillows, your eyes began to feel heavy. you slowly turned your head over to the exterior wall, sleepily gazing out of the large window. most of the city lights were off now, leaving only the inky black void of stars to lull you to sleep.

———

stepping into the conference room, you felt a little underdressed in your button down and slacks. there were about six other designers, all clad in an array of vibrancy. shiny space-age metallic tops, dynamic head scarfs, eccentric glasses. they all looked like they were set to walk a runway show, clearly you missed the memo.

you were a teensy bit late, thanks to the warm, soft bed that didn’t fail to keep you asleep through your alarm. you gave an awkward smile when they all turned to look at you, the door slamming a little too loud. you flushed, quickly setting your laptop and purse down as you pushed yourself into the seat across from alex, who gave you a gentle smile.

settling in, you looked up at the designer who was giving a presentation on his ideas for the new stargazing room. you fought to not scrunch your nose. white curtains? white furniture? white walls with gold detailing? it was cute, maybe for a suburban mom but it didn’t match the energy of the hotel whatsoever.

once it was your turn to present ideas, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. some of the other designers had okay ideas, but some were also good, and although you loved your plan, these people seemed intimidating.

for the stargazing area, you’d envisioned a more cozy, dreamlike room. the furniture and carpeting would be warm toned, various soft lamps and fairy lights scattered across the room. while you were walking everyone through your presentation, your nerves seemed to ease. when you turned back around to sit down, everyone was quiet, unreadable. great.

after each presentation was done, it was time to discuss. everyones attention redirected to alex. being the owner, he got a big say in the final decision. your heart raced once you heard him murmur your name. “i liked yours. we’ll go with that,” he concluded. “meeting over, see you guys tomorrow.”

your jaw was agape. no discussion, no nothing, he chose yours immediately. the other designers didn’t take it well either, mumbling and grumbling a bit as they gathered their things and stumbled out of the conference room.

the following week, you were in the conference room once again. everyone was discussing plans for the day spa, and you found yourself falling quiet. someone had suggested sleek wood paneled walls, which alex had liked. others had suggested fluorescent lighting installments, to which alex said no. you sat there, observing until alex turned to you. “what about you? any ideas?”

your cheeks flushed a bit. “i was thinking dim, hanging lights, a bunch of different kinds, all warm toned, it makes it more calming.” he fiddled with his pen, nodding and scribbling something down. “i like that.”

a designer across the table from you rolled his eyes subtly. you shrunk in your seat, feeling gross. you didn’t want to be known as some sort of suck up. you couldn’t help the way alex singled you out, agreeing with all your ideas.

nevertheless, it didn’t stop. you’d suggest paintings for the wall, he would agree, you’d bring up an interesting wallpaper, he’d find somewhere to put it, you’d point out curtains that complemented the room well, he’d nod approvingly and scribble it down on his notepad.

eventually, you learned to be quieter, trying to let the other designers have the spot light but sure enough, alex would ask you to share again, his eyes narrowing at you as he dismissed the annoyance that stifled the room.

every single time, you’d receive a subtle scoff or an eye roll from one of the other petty designers. you understood, it was annoying that they’d worked hard to get here and the majority of their ideas were being turned down, but still, were their egos just so fucking big that they couldn’t be at least a little happy for you?

———

the next morning, you found a loup mask outside your door. it was adorned in black satin and lace, small gold detailing outlining the eyes. underneath was a small, metallic gold envelope with an invitation inside.

you have been invited to the tranquility base masquerade party,

tonight, 7pm, @ the information action ratio, live music and free drinks.

so now here you were, clad in a black, lace dress, which mysteriously had showed up at your door later that morning, along with a stunning pair of gold earrings and a dainty necklace that matched the detailing on your mask. the black satin hugged you perfectly, making you wonder how they managed to nail your size and proportions.

chandeliers with bulbs of stars hung down in clusters, emitting a gentle glow. people danced and chatted, jazz flowing through the room from the band on the stage, the martini police. tons of different people wandered around, all masked and dressed in a variety of colors and textures.

letting your eyes linger, you spotted the group of designers all chatting at a booth. instead, you headed towards the bar, figuring they already hated you enough, why annoy them now. the bar was beautiful, lights lit up the whole structure, and as you ordered your martini, you couldn’t help but notice how good looking some of the bartenders were.

as you sipped your drink, you felt someone’s presence directly behind you, a little too close for comfort. you turned, trying to distinguish who was under the sparkly white cat mask. “so, are you fucking him or something?”

your eyebrows raised “huh?” the girl scoffed, and immediately you recognized her as one of the other designers. she had a model figure, super tall with platinum blonde hair, and a menacing scoff. she’d be a really good bully. “are you fucking alex? is that how you get him to pick all your ideas?”

you shook your head, cheeks flushed. “no. i have no idea why he favors me,” you stated, turning back to your drink when you felt a cold liquid down your back, making you gasp. you turned again, the blonde pretending to be shocked as she held her empty glass. “i’m so sorry! i’m so clumsy.”

you rolled your eyes, getting up and deciding you’d had enough. you just wanted to go back to your suite, shower and lay in bed. since you’d arrived, the crowd almost doubled in size. you fought your way through, bumping into a few shoulders as you tried not to step on dresses. a lady in a swan mask turned and bumped you, her feathery dress catching on your shoes. you lost balance, stumbling over your heels, about to fall onto another group of people when you felt strong hands on your waist, and in a whirlwind you were upright.

it was alex. he pulled you close to him and swept you away onto the dancefloor, his hand on your waist, a hand interlocked with yours. you almost didn’t recognize him at first. he wore a black masquerade mask, with dark shimmery sequins adorning the sides. his hair was fluffier, much unlike his usual slicked back look.

you looked up at him, noticing how your hand gripped his shoulder. he’d swept you away so swiftly, leaving you speechless. his dark eyes shimmered under the mask as he peered down at you, waiting for you to speak first. “i- i was just leaving,” you stuttered, hyperfixating on the way the spill made the wet satin stick to your skin. he made no remark, keeping his languid gaze, his mouth twisted into a subtle grin.

“there’s vodka all over my dress,” you added. alex shuffled, taking off his blazer and wrapping it around your shoulders. it didn’t help much, but you didn’t say anything. it was a nice gesture.

the mystery lingered in the back of your mind, you wanted to question him about his decisions to constantly favor you but his position of authority made you bite your tongue.

his position of authority. you noticed how many people were staring all of a sudden. you could sense it in his sharp suit, the expensive, musky cologne he wore. it was entrancing, he was quite entrancing himself, you couldn’t ignore it but you couldn’t do this. you didn’t want the taboo boss employee type of perception cast upon you and him. you wanted to be taken seriously. the other designers were already perceiving you as some sort of teachers pet. the thought instilled momentary nausea.

“alex, i’ve got to go,” you whispered. he looked down at you again. “i’ll walk you back.” you shook your head. “no, no thank you, i’ll manage.” you slipped out of his arms before handing him his blazer, maneuvering your way through the tight packed crowd, slipping around torsos and arms until you finally made it out into the secluded hallway.

you took a deep breath, the chatter, music, and clinking of glasses now muddled. the hall was dark, not counting the floor to ceiling window that casted a murky blue into the space. you pressed your hand up against the window. staring out, you still didn’t comprehend it all was real, convincing yourself that it was a dream, and dreams were merely fragments of space cut out and glued together, playing like a glitched out film reel in your sleep.

you snapped back to reality, the smell of vodka on your dress pungent. quickly, you headed back to your suite, heels clacking on the marble, loud in the silence.

———

hii! let me know what you think so far. sorry if this part is a little uneventful, i mostly wanted to set up the environment but trust, better things are coming.

taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed)- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner @indierockgirrl @kittyrob0t @averyzversi0n @michelleisheres-blog @kennedy-brooke @madeinuk @mathdebate00 @sstar-ggirl @tangointhequango @nela-cutie

also if you aren’t american then what right have you to tell americans what our duty is?

you don’t live here and you don’t vote for our president

I'm not even American but I need to vent.

I assure you Americans that elections and politics suck worldwide, and not just for you. Save from a few cases here and there, candidates are always either too old, too shady, or just too stupid.

But more than candidates, you are voting for their policies.

It's your duty to vote for the better or just the lesser evil policy among them.

The "two sides are equally awful" is seldom true and it's just a lie to excuse passivity.

You have a duty for your marginalized folks and yourself to make your society better or at least stop it from getting worse.

Biden has quite a interesting history of progressive policies done, while Donald Trump is just a convicted fellow, darling of white supremacy, and the god of religious freaks.

There's no place on Earth where these candidates are the same.

Even if your hate Biden based on his softness with the current Far-right government of Israel, Trump is cherished by Israel far-right, is deeply Islamophobic, and even use Palestinian as an insult. He will be even worse for Palestine.

You have to vote, you have to exercise your civic duties. The two parties aren't the same and saying that is just an excuse for passivity.

It won't fix the world I assure you. There will still be things to be one. You still will have to protest, to get involve with politics, to help good policy be made and set in motion. But just voting is the first, and most important step for it.

@ariel-seagull-wings @mask131 @thealmightyemprex @the-blue-fairie @princesssarisa

LADIEEEEESSSS

(Not my gif!)

AHHH okay so this is my first Alex Turner one ever, and it’s gonna be multi part so I’ll try to be consistent with updates :)

Warnings: cursing, an unhealthy relationship, fear ig

All of the songs mentioned are by the Arctic Monkeys! 🥶 🙈

Enjoy!

The Arctic Monkeys are your favorite band. How could the way not be? Their music is amazing and the band members themselves seem to be pretty cool. 

Your boyfriend, the wonderful and amazing man that he is, bought the two of you tickets. It had been about two months since he presented the tickets to you, and he… hadn’t really talked to you as much since then-but it’s okay because you’re going to an Arctic Monkeys concert with him! Everything will go back to normal after it, things like that happen a lot in relationships, right?

You go into your bathroom to finish up your makeup, it looked good too. Your signature style, and a dark red matte lipstick. 

“Y/n!” James called from the living room “We should leave like right now if you don’t want to be late!”

“Okay I’m coming James just one sec! I’ll meet you in the car” You quickly grab your purse, your favorite pair of shoes, and the closest pair of socks. 

The car ride there is short, but nice because it had been a while since you were alone with your boyfriend, maybe months. 

“Oh shit I grabbed the wrong socks” you hold up the pair of knee socks that you accidentally grabbed, instead of the ankle length socks you were going for. You slide them on and try to bunch them up around your ankles. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re just socks” James briefly takes his eyes off of the road to glance at you. 

“Yeah but they look weird all bunched up, I’m gonna have to pull them up.” You sigh and pull the socks up to your knees “It doesn’t even work that well with my outfit!” 

“Whatever y/n, it’s just a stupid outfit stop whining” James stares straight ahead, and doesn’t see how your face falls. 

“Yeah you’re right- I was just kidding it doesn’t really matter” 

The parking lot is packed, and it takes almost ten minutes to find a parking spot. It’s a good thing you left early though, or you would’ve missed the start of the concert. 

Your boyfriend got you floor tickets, so you both were very close to the stage, almost front and center! As you found your spots your boyfriend was silent, even more so than usual. “I’m so excited babe! Thank you so much for doing this for me!” You lean over to kiss his cheek but he quickly turns away to the stage. “Look they’re coming out now- pay attention”

Again your face falls as your boyfriend responds curtly, but he’s right- they’re coming onto the stage! 

Alex Turner, the lead singer, introduces himself and the rest of the band. Then they kick off the show with the song ‘Fluorescent Adolescent’. As the show continues you dance and scream to the music, having the time of your life. The starting notes of ‘Pretty Visitors’ start to play and the crowd goes wild, you especially. As they reach the chorus you nudge your boyfriend, “Come on babe, dance with me!” He looks around, then back  at you with a very frustrated look, “No! I don’t want with dance you! Why can’t you just be grateful that I got you tickets, and stop trying to make me look like a fool!” 

“All you have to do is wave your arms James! Come on it’s fun!” You shout over the loud music, and grab his arm trying to pull him closer. 

“I said no!” He yells at you, and shrugs your arm off, then he stomps off.

For the third time that day, your face fell. 

“All the pretty visitors came and waved their arms and cast, the shadow of a snake pit on the wall” 

Screw this, I came here to have fun

You throw your whole heart and soul into dancing, and you keep dancing until you realize that the song has ended. 

Little did you know, Alex had seen the whole thing happen. He’d noticed you as your boyfriend had shrugged you off then stomped away. He saw your face fall, and then he saw you go back to dancing, an almost wild look in your eyes. How could he do that though? She’s so pretty and it seems like she just cares, what is his problem?

An idea comes into his mind, and before he can stop himself he leans into the microphone and smiles. “For all those fellas out there who were just too cool to wave their arms during the Pretty Visitors chorus, this one’s for your girlfriend. LADIES!” 

With that he starts the song ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’

Maybe you’re just delusional but you could’ve sworn Alex-Alex freaking Turner- made direct eye contact with you for almost that whole song 

“Stop making the eyes at me, I’ll stop making the eyes at you”

No I’m just delusional- there’s no way he’s singing to me.

“And your shoulders are frozen,

As cold as the night!

Oh but you’re an explosion, 

You’re dynamite!” 

As he sings this Alex points at…you?

He doesn’t know what compels him to do so, all he knows is that he did. 

Holy shit did he just- I think he did! 

You do the first thing that comes to mind, and scream like a crazy fangirl. You throw your hands up in the air and just continue to have the time of your life. Just before the song is over, you get a text from your boyfriend 

James: I’m at the back of the room, and I’m leaving the second it’s over so you better hurry your ass up.

Y/n: 👍

What is his problem?

James: I’m leaving right now actually so if you want a ride home you better get your ass back here. 

You glance down at your phone and quickly look up and around to try and see your boyfriend. 

Y/n: Can we please stay just until the end?

James reads the text but doesn’t respond. You wait out until the song is over, then you look down at your phone again and sigh. Reluctantly, you push through the crowd to get to the back of the room to your boyfriend, but he’s not there. 

He wouldn’t have left me right? 

You run out to the parking lot and over to where you had parked only to find that your parking space was empty.

He left.

Just to make sure, you check his locations on your shared app and, yep he was already almost home. 

You think about calling him but then decide against it because at this point something is wrong with him and it could only end badly.  Wiping away tears that threatened to fall from your eyes, you head back inside, knowing full well that it’s safer in there than outside. 

Alex had seen you disappear into the crowd, and for some reason it bothered him that he couldn’t see you anymore. He quickly checked with his band mates to see if they could move a song up on the setlist. 

You shove your way back to through the crowd, earning many glares and even a “Watch it!”

The starting notes of ‘No. 1 Party Anthem’ come on and Alex searched the crowd for you as he started singing. 

“So you’re on the prowl wondering whether, she left already or not” 

You smile as one of your favorite songs comes on and find yourself near the edge of the stage once more. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out to see a message from James lighting up your screen. 

James: you took too long and I’m already home. Get an Uber. 

You stare at your phone for a moment before shutting it off. Fighting back more tears you sigh and close your eyes, looking upward and swaying to the music.

The light of your phone in the dimly lit room catches Alex’s eye as he’s scanning the crowd. And he watches you close your eyes and sway with the music. You look sad, and he doesn’t know why but it makes him sad. The man you were with earlier, your boyfriend he’d assumed, had disappeared and he wondered if the two were related. 

As the concert drew to a close, panic began to set it for you. 

How the hell are you supposed to get home? 

Not only could you not afford an Uber at the moment, as your boyfriend well knew, but too many bad things had happened to friends who had taken Ubers at such a late time, and you were very cautious. It was midnight after all. 

The concert had ended and the last of the crowd shuffled out the doors. After about twenty minutes of you sitting on the floor by the stage, you were ushered out by a kind employee, you looked around and realized that you were the last person left.

The house lights were on and the room looked much smaller than it had when it was dark and jam packed with people. You made your way outside and sat on the curb, trying to make a plan, your pepper spray at the ready just in case. At this point it had almost been an hour since the concert had ended, and the parking lot was completely empty by now, not to mention kind of creepy.

To your horror a car pulls up and you grip your pepper spray tightly. Behind you, the door opens up and you quickly turn around to try and see who it could be. A group of men walks out and you try to make out their faces in the dim lighting provided by the scattered streetlights, but can’t see them until they’re up close. 

Oh my gosh I’m going to die.

Your mind automatically searches for an escape route in case things go the way they’re looking right now. But then, almost all your fear dissipates as the group gets close enough to see who they are. 

It’s the Arctic Monkeys

SO TRUEEEEEE

“I get mean when im nervous like a bad dog”