variations on a trench coat: it is the unknown (& Here, Kitty, Kitty! or Cats!)

It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.

I am unaccustomed to having my lips this dark, but there is something glorious about being deliberately un-PYT that I have always loved. This is

Variation IV: What Would Dumbledore Do?

Trench coat: mother's, FoxRun. Sweater: thrifted. Dress: Target. Brooch: mother's. Leggings: American Apparel, gift from Christine. Rain boots: Hunter via Zappos.

It is Saturday, which means my Smashion interview is up!, and that it's time for an old script.

I wrote this when I was 17, and it is actually so bad that I suggest you don't read it. It reads like ... bad fanfiction. And not even a very serious attempt at it. Just goes to show how poor a grasp I have on plot. (And romance. What's romance? What is characterization? Why did I even feel compelled to write this?)

No, really, follow the jump at your own peril; this honestly reads like bad, fluffy fanfiction. I even named the love interest James and made him act like fanon James Potter. I think Annette is toeing Mary Sue territory.

Luckily, there is a relevant .GIF to express my trepidation:

For clarity, the above GIF is from this clip of Andrew Garfield singing "Bed Intruder," although to be totally clear, Andrew Garfield can be my bed intruder any day of the week.

In my defense, I probably needed to write something this bad before I could come up with something better that was more than ten minutes long.

[EDIT: I am rereading this right now, and OH MY GOD ABANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER HERE THIS IS SO EMBARRASSING BUT IT NEEDS TO BE OUT THERE TO SHOW THE PROGRESSION OF MY WRITING ATTEMPTS OKAY I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO JUDGE ME.]

I write stuff after the jump.