Fanfiction Club

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ByeByeBrownie
Strawberry
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Joined: July 2019
Location: How I Do Is Nothing Great

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Here we go! Just a wee bit of Penny and Wooton fluff <3
Penny’s POV:
Rays of morning sun streamed in through the cracks in the blinds, and my eyes fluttered open. Strains of classical music floated from the clock radio on the nightstand. The digital display read 10:00.

“Oh no, I’m late!” I exclaimed, bolting upright. Then I remembered. It was Valentine’s Day. And I was taking the day off to prepare a romantic Valentine’s dinner for Wooton and me.

I sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched, noticing a small notecard propped up against the lamp on the nightstand. I immediately recognized Wooton’s familiar scrawl.

“Breakfast is ready for you in the kitchen, my love.”

Hmmm, I wonder what he made me? I wondered, noticing the delicious aroma wafting through the bedroom door. I bounded down the stairs to the kitchen, where I was greeted by a colorful array of fresh fruit spread across the table. Another note was propped up against the plate he’d set out for me.

“Waffles are in the oven <3”

I cracked open the oven door and carefully peeked inside. “Birthday cake waffles!” I exclaimed aloud. “And they’re heart-shaped!”

I wished he were there with me, so I could throw my arms around him and kiss him. I really did have the best husband in the world.

After I’d eaten, I set right to work on the decorating. I was going to transform the dining room into a carnival scene, reminiscent of the circumstances under which we first met. It took me the rest of the morning just to hang the paper I’d planned to paint as a backdrop and place the paper mache pieces I’d made to mimic rides in the foreground.

I quickly munched an apple for lunch before starting in on the painting. This step once again took much more time than I’d anticipated, but I finally finished and left the paint to dry while I started assembling the ingredients for dinner.

This was going to be my first attempt at seared Alaskan salmon. For side-dishes, I was going to make baked macaroni and cheese (with aged fontina, of course—Wooton’s favorite), and roasted vegetables. Piece of cake, right? I mean, I’d never been much of a cook, but I figured I could make it work.

I chopped up the vegetables and tossed them in a mixture of olive oil and spices before spreading them out on a pan to go in the oven. So far, so good. Next I started on the cheese sauce. Milk, butter and a little bit of flour. Then add in the cheese.

The cheese would take a while to melt, I thought, so I ran upstairs to grab Wooton’s gift in the meantime. It was a portrait I’d painted of the two of us at the Eiffel Tower on our honeymoon. And it had turned out quite spectacularly, if I did say so myself. Jason Whittaker had even helped me pick out the perfect frame for it at his antique shop.

As I neared the bottom of the stairs on my way back down, the smoke detector began to chirp. Why would the smoke detector be going off? I wondered. We just changed the batteries.

Entering the kitchen, I discovered the reason. Smoke stung at my eyes as flames leaped from the pan where I’d left the cheese cooking.

“Oh no, oh no, oh nooo!” I shrieked, dashing toward the stove and snatching the pan off the burner, hoping some of the sauce would be salvageable. I flinched back from the pan’s scalding handle, flinging the flaming spoon across the kitchen and into the dining room.

“Oh no, not the carnival!” I wailed, lunging for the fire extinguisher we kept in the pantry. My heart pounded, as panic set in. I could not allow myself to be responsible for Wooton’s house—OUR house, now—getting burned down again. Without a moment’s hesitation, I pulled the pin and squeezed the trigger, dousing all of my hard work with foamy liquid.

Slowly, the flames died down, and I was left with a mess of soggy paper and a foul-smelling brown goop I was sure was never going to come out of that pan. Let me tell you, this was nothing like the flaming cheese they serve at fancy Greek restaurants.

I sat down heavily at the kitchen table with my head in my hands and began to cry.


Wooton’s POV:
On my way home from my mail route, I stopped to pick up the giant bouquet of flowers I’d ordered from the florist Connie had recommended. Red, pink and white roses, dotted with sunny yellow buttercups—Penny’s favorite. I knew she was going to love it.

As I left the florist shop, I fingered the tiny box in my pocket, just to make sure it was still there. The Art Deco-style emerald necklace had caught my eye at Triple J’s Antiques several weeks ago. It looked like it had been made just for her, so of course I had to buy it. I’d been carrying it with me on the off-chance that she’d somehow find it and ruin the surprise, and now I felt I couldn’t wait a moment longer to give it to her.

Pulling into the driveway, I noticed that all the lights were out inside the house. Hmmm, that’s strange, I thought. Penny’s car is still in the driveway. Where can she be?

I dashed inside, calling her name.

“Penny? Penny, where are you?”

“I’m in here, Wooton.” My heart leaped at the familiar voice. But something still wasn’t quite right. Her voice sounded muffled, like she’d been crying, and the entire house smelled like smoke.

“Penny! Are you okay? What happened?” I ran to her, barely noticing the singed spot of carpet and limp, soggy shreds of paper that hung from the dining room wall. What if somebody had tried to break into the house? What if she’d been hurt?

“Oh, Wooton—it was awful! I went upstairs to get your present, and the cheese started burning, and then I—the spoon—“ A sob wracked her slight figure. “I ruined Valentine’s Day!”

I knelt down beside her, gently lifting her chin so I could see her tear-streaked face. “No, you didn’t.”

“How can you say that?” she whimpered, gesturing at the aftermath of her culinary efforts. “I ruined everything!”

“Look at me, Penny.” I rested my hands on her shoulders and stared deeply into her tear-filled eyes. “Nothing you could ever do could possibly ruin the way I feel about you. You are the very best part of me. I love everything about you. The way you run up to my studio to greet me every day when you come home from work... The way you steer clear of the mushroom aisle at the grocery store when we’re shopping together... The way you’re YOU. That’s all I really need.”

I scooped her up in my arms and pulled her close.

“Oh, Wooton!” She melted into my embrace and her lips met mine in a heart-felt kiss.

“So, uh…Hal’s Diner, then, maybe?” I offered, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I heard they’re serving heart-shaped lasagna today.”

“Well…” The usual sparkle returned to her eyes. “I did ask Zelda to hold a table for us…you know—just in case.”

I had to chuckle. “That’s my Penny.” I leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Go get your coat.”
Shiyanne Rylie Steele

Buck and Jules Shipper
Wooton is the best character on Odyssey ever. Fight me.


"It's not that we don't make sense, it's that we have a different way of looking at things that do make sense." ~Wooton Bassett
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ASmouseInTheHouse
Caramel Crunch
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Nice!
Anyone have ideas for our next challenge?
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
djchatswithu
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Joined: December 2018

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Here's a random thought that might get some people thinking: IT is about a being called Pennywise, who takes the form of a scary clown. Wooton is terrified of scary clowns so, and is married to Penny(wise), who hangs scary clown paintings in the house. (BTW I only saw the trailers on youtube, not my kind of movie)
djchatswithu
Caramel Crunch
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The official guide list plenty of unused or deleted ideas and that we could try.
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ASmouseInTheHouse
Caramel Crunch
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Unfortunately, I don't have my guide with me. Anything in particular you wanted to try?
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
djchatswithu
Caramel Crunch
Posts: 115
Joined: December 2018

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ASmouseInTheHouse wrote:
Fri Sep 04, 2020 6:41 pm
Unfortunately, I don't have my guide with me. Anything in particular you wanted to try?
I wasn't really thinking of anything in particular, and as I don't have mine on hand either, I can only recall a few. During their road trip, Connie and Joanne visit the Barclays, only to find that Eugene and Katrina are hiding there, and agree to come back to odyssey with them. Another was that AREM was originally meant to be Richard Maxwell, but the actor was unavailable at the time. the Staussburgs were going to divorce, but the crew felt that wasn't right after everything that had happened in that saga. there was also an joke of the one of the Blackguuard bad guys trying to jump out of whits office window, only to bounce off it, revealing it was a hologram whit made. there was also the though of Eugene/Katrina eloping in the underground tunnel. lastly, B-tv was going to be called C-tv, and feature Connie. that's about all I remember reading at this point.
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ASmouseInTheHouse
Caramel Crunch
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Would anyone be up for doing Thanksgiving stories this month?
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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PennyBassett
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Sorry the website hasn't been letting me post for some reason. I'd love to though!
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
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Carl
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Me too!
Buckles shipper. Visit my Odyssey website at http://odyssey-news.com/.


Trista: Isn't it great to be an indevidual now, not just someone who wears what society tells them to wear?
Jules: But your telling my what to wear.
Trista: Of course, I'm your publicist, it's my job.

~#902 California Dreams, Part 1~
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ASmouseInTheHouse
Caramel Crunch
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Great! I'll try to do something as well, though it might be a bit late. :)
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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Carl
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Mine is already underway!
Buckles shipper. Visit my Odyssey website at http://odyssey-news.com/.


Trista: Isn't it great to be an indevidual now, not just someone who wears what society tells them to wear?
Jules: But your telling my what to wear.
Trista: Of course, I'm your publicist, it's my job.

~#902 California Dreams, Part 1~
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Carl
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First part of mine!
“C’mon Jules!”, Connie Kendall shrilled up the stairs.
“‘I’m coming, I’m coming!” yelled Jules from her bedroom. The sound of high heels echoed down the stairs as Jules rushed down.
“Quickly, get your coat. We’ll be late!” huffed Connie.
“What’s new?” replied Jules smartly.
“Stop being smart and hurry!”

Jules and Connie ran out of the house and walked to Connie’s parked car on the driveway. It was a beautiful fall day, “Perfect day for Thanksgiving,” Connie thought as she slammed the call door.
“Can I drive?” Jules asked.
“No”
“Please?”
“No way”
“Why?” Jules asked curtly.
“Because you’ve only had your license for one month.”
“It’s been four months, anyway, I’ve had my permit for a year already, and you have to admit I am a great driver.”
“How great were you when you ran a red light, hit a car, and broke my front light?” Connie reminded her.
“I didn’t hit the car...only scratched it. Nevermind, we need to get going. We don’t want to be late.”
“Haha,” Connie replied sarcastically.

As they drove down the streets of Odyssey, Jules questioned Connie about the meal...
“So, Eugene and Katrina making thanksgiving dinner?”
“That’s right, with a little help from Whit, Wooton, you, me, Jillian, Buck and Penny.”
“Should I remind you what happened last time we cooked and the turkey, well, melted?”
“Don’t remind me, anyhow we're pulling up the Eugene’s.”

They stopped on the street and walked up the driveway, shivering from the effect of getting out of a warm car into the cold air.
”I have a bad feeling about this,” Jules said.
“Oh stop it,” Connie said, "Everything is going to be fine.”
“That’s your opinion,” Jules muttered.
Buckles shipper. Visit my Odyssey website at http://odyssey-news.com/.


Trista: Isn't it great to be an indevidual now, not just someone who wears what society tells them to wear?
Jules: But your telling my what to wear.
Trista: Of course, I'm your publicist, it's my job.

~#902 California Dreams, Part 1~
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PennyBassett
Fudge Marble
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Oooo I'm excited to read the rest! You write for these characters very accurately!

Here's mine! I'm thinking about writing a second part, so let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading. And the format of this one is a little strange. It's just the dialogue, so I'd be interested to read what you think of that set up. It takes place a few months after Connie's mom died.
Today I learned that mashed potatoes taste a lot worse when you’re crying into them. Kind of salty- but not in a good way, more like in a wow my tears just added flavor to my mashed potatoes and it’s the only flavor I can taste right now because my nose is so stuffy. So then you try to wipe your nose with a napkin before any snot drips onto the slice of ham on your plate, but as you reach for it you knock over your glass of water, which gets the napkins all wet, so then you have to walk over to the sink to rip off some paper towels, but you can only do that with one hand since the other is still trying to keep the snot in, so the roll of paper towels falls onto the floor and the only thing you can do is use your hand and your foot to break off a train of paper towel rectangles so that you can clean up your nose and the table. Of course, by the time you get that done, your food is cold, and everyone knows what happens to gravy when it gets cold, so you reheat your food in the microwave and don’t get more water even though you know these potatoes are gonna be dry, and you sit down in front of the too big tv in your too big house to watch Elf for the second time this week. What’s something you learned over thanksgiving? The phone lines are open!
Okay it looks like there are no callers… maybe- oh Whit’s waving at me. Let’s take a quick break.
Yes, Whit?

Connie, why don’t you take the day off? Eugene can do his show today.

You already said that, but I’m fine Whit! Really!

But you’re not. You were crying about your mom?

Kind of? A lot happened this week.

Hm. Do you want to talk about it?

I don’t know… just… I’m feeling a little left behind I guess. I mean, Penny’s visiting home for the rest of the semester, and yeah… my mom isn’t here. And Whit, my dad hasn’t talked to me in about three months! He didn’t call to say happy Thanksgiving, and he usually does. And last night while I was alone and feeling sorry for myself, all these self doubts starting coming to mind. I could suddenly remember every bad thing people have ever said to me, so of course, I started thinking about Mitch, which was weird. I don’t think about him very often, but he would always joke that I hurt him because of how clumsy I was. Those funny moments feel really sad now, Whit.

Hm. Yeah, I know. Thanksgiving was the last holiday you spent with Mitch?

Yeah… that was before he moved to Washington… but yeah. The taste of thanksgiving food is just a little too much for me. But I was hungry. I’m gross.

Connie, you’re not gross. You’re human. You’re normal. Losing people can create some big gaps. I wish you would have called me. Jason and I would have had you over for dinner.

I know. I just didn’t want to burden you with my grief. I can’t imagine Thanksgiving is a great time for you two either.

Hm. Well there are always difficult moments. But we’ve learned how to deal with them. Together. Have you?

I don’t know. Sometimes I think that I have. But who am I supposed to-to cry with over my mom, or even Mitch? I’m so tired of crying over Mitch.

Hm. You know what you need, Connie?

A boyfriend? Yeah, I know.

No. I think you need to call your dad.

Oh. I wasn’t expecting that.

Well, I’m wondering if he’s hurting just like you. He doesn’t have anyone to grieve with over June either.

Yeah. Yeah that’s probably true. Sometimes I doubt that he is even sad though.

I understand. Maybe it’s a bad suggestion. You know your dad better than I do.

No one knows my dad. That’s the thing. He doesn’t let himself feel sad. If I called him, he’d give some half answer about how busy he is and how he hasn’t thought about it much lately, but that he hopes I’m doing well without her. I’m sick of dealing with that. Emotionally, I mean.

I know.

But I miss him at the same time. It’s- it’s hard to explain, I’m sorry Whit. I should get back to my show.

If you want to.

Yeah I have to work. I’ll try not to overshare.

Okay.
Connie?

Yeah?

How about you come over tonight? I’ll invite Jason too.

For what?

Well we have some leftovers from yesterday. And we haven’t played Kings in the Corner in awhile. I thought we could have some family time.

That’d be great, Whit. Thanks.
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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These are great, guys!
I'm not sure I'll be able to get mine posted anytime soon. If by some chance I do, I apologize in advance for double posting. :)
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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