I'm currently writing

Chatterbox: Inkwell

I'm currently writing

I'm currently writing a story, and I would like to post it here. Unfortunately, on the first thread I made about it, someone impersonated me and told the Admins to delete it. So I'm going to repost everything.

I'm too salty to rewrite the whole original introduction, but I would like to point out that many of the main characters in this are LGBTQ+. If that was the reason whoever the impersonater was told the Admins under my name to take it down, then I cannot say how awful that is.

Please don't do it again. To me or to anyone. It feels super, super, super bad. It feels like you're being taken advantage of. Like you're not being regarded as a person. 

If you don't like this story, don't read it. That doesn't mean you should steal someone's identity and demand for someone else's hard work be deleted.

Thanks. Here's part one again.


It was one of those things that he never expected to change.

Suddenly it did, and it felt so right that he didn’t question it. And it changed again and again, but he scarcely noticed that everything was different because he was all caught up in the swirl and excitement and joy of living.

Then one day, he was hanging upside down from a branch on that big tree in the backyard that Liza joked would never stop growing and one day swallow up the house and all of Los Angeles. He was holding his phone (tightly, lest he drop it) and laughing as he typed out a text to Jack and Adri and Theo, when he realized that, indeed, he and his life had become very, very, different since the day three years ago that cute, red-haired, freckle-faced boy had come up behind him after Math and asked if he could draw him.

“You want to know if you can… what?” Alex blinked, bewildered, at his questioner.

“Draw you. Oh, sorry—” The boy said sheepishly. “That was weird, wasn’t it? I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you’re really interesting.”

Alex was at a loss for words, which he thought with a kind of amused awe. Alex Quinn, he had been told and acknowledged himself, was very difficult to shut up.

“No! No! Ugh, human interaction is hard, gosh, I’m sorry— Can we start over?” Flustered, the boy ran a hand through his long auburn curls, the other pulling nervously at the edge of his too-large “Black Lives Matter” t-shirt.

Alex grinned. “Sure. I’m Alex Quinn. Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Jack.”

They shook hands. Jack’s palms were soft, and even they were covered in freckles, like someone had dumped cinnamon sugar on him.

Alex gathered his binders and notebooks, carefully stacking them in size order. It was a habit, he supposed, but he wasn’t sure where it had come from— Only that it made him uneasy to have it any other way. It was just one of those things.

“So, why did you want to draw me?”

Jack’s hands started fidgeting, fingers tapping his sides in some sort of rhythm. “I’m an artist, I guess, and I’m best at drawing people, and you seem like… I don’t know.” He paused. “You’re really alive, you know.”

Alex paused at his locker, dumping his supplies in it and kicking the blue metal door shut. After considering a moment, he replied, “I’ve been told it’s really hard to get me to stop talking and moving. Or doing anything I want to be doing, really.”

Jack opened his mouth, seemingly struggling with deciding whether or not to elaborate on that, for a moment before closing his mouth and saying, “That’s kind of what I mean.”

Alex could tell that it wasn’t all that Jack had to say, but he left it be.

They walked in silence for a bit, and Jack glanced over at Alex, trying to commit his appearance to memory, all of his expressive hazel eyes and baggy blue sweatshirt and scuffed up converse and easy posture, the way his mouth upturned slightly as if preparing to say something, and that when he did you’d gosh darn better listen.

“Are you new here?” Jack said finally.

“Yeah,” Alex said as they neared the dark oak double doors that led to the dining hall. “This is my first year at this place. I moved during the summer.”

“From where?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Alex replied, a little too quickly.

Jack also took note of the way Alex bit his lip and ducked his head so his dark brown hair fell into his eyes when he said this, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Catch you later, okay? I have work to do.”

“Okay.” Jack said, and Alex had turned and walked away, hurrying out of the cafe and towards the direction of the library.

Lunch was quiet. Jack sat at a corner table by himself, just like usual, and took out his sketchbook to draw, just like usual. He would sketch people, just glance around and pick the first person his eyes fell on, but this time he drew Alex.

In the first attempt, he penciled out the boy’s profile, trying to capture the peaceable line of his jaw and the way his hair hung down the side of his face, tucked behind his ears. He stopped to analyze it. It wasn’t a bad drawing, but it wasn’t... Alex.

Half an hour and four abandoned doodles of Alex later, he slammed his book shut in a fit of rare frustration. There was something about the guy that he couldn’t quite ensnare, something deep and quiet and real and ragingly beautiful.

Jack was determined to find it.



Keep writing, Abi! We're excited to see the rest. To the impersonator, we do not tolerate that type of behavior. ~Admin 

submitted by Abigail S., age 12, Nose in a Book
(December 22, 2016 - 12:21 pm)

Whoever you are:

I don't care if you don't support LGBTQ+ rights. That's not the issue. 

You say you didn't impersonate me, but if you told the Admins to delete it without my consent whilst pretending to be me, you did, regardless of whether the name in the field is mine or "top".

Being gay isn't wrong. It's normal, an unchangable trait, a part of someone's identity. It's not a "choice", it's not a "lifestyle", it's not a "sin". It's not something to protest. You can't stop being LGBTQ+ anymore than you can change your ethnicity.

If it goes against your religion, remember that not everyone in the world shares your religion and therefore we are not obligated to follow its rules.

I believe in some of my own religion's values, but I also follow my heart and personal beliefs and experiences of what I think is right. The Torah doesn't dictate my life, it shows me a guideline. Some things in it I hold as a principle. Others I don't.

However, I don't really want to get into the science and specifics of it. If you're really interested, research it. There's plenty of material out there.

I appreciate you apologizing. In the future please recognize that impersonation is not acceptable. LGBTQ+ rights is something I and many others believe strongly about. You had no obligation to read the story if you strongly disagreed. You had no right to try to take it down because of your personal beliefs.

Thank you for your time.

-- Abigail S.

submitted by Abigail S., age 12, Nose in a Book
(December 22, 2016 - 2:20 pm)
submitted by Amen
(June 11, 2017 - 7:44 pm)
submitted by ToppityTop
(December 22, 2016 - 1:13 pm)
submitted by ToppityTop
(December 22, 2016 - 1:13 pm)

At lunch hour a week later, Jack found himself heading toward the library for no particular reason except to draw in peace (so he told himself, but it wasn’t a coincidence that he knew for a fact Alex went their every day). On the way down the hall, he ate his sandwich, tossing the remainder of his carefully packed meal into the trash can. Screw carrot sticks.

Jack swung open the door to the library and grinned. It was a peaceful place, warm colors and squahsy chairs and ceiling-high bookshelves and he wondered why he didn’t visit more often.

He sunk into a beanbag and flipped open his sketchbook, glancing around for Alex while trying to make it seem like he wasn’t glancing around for Alex.

He was easy to spot, one of the few others spending his lunch here, at a table all to himself with a multitude of books piled around him like walls. Alex’s silver laptop was sitting on top of a stack of encyclopedias, while he scribbled on a thick legal pad, hand moving so fast it was almost blurred.

The guy sure was something.

Jack watched Alex for a few more minutes. He didn’t seem to be in any danger of Alex catching him— He was totally engrossed in whatever he was doing, only pausing in his writing to occasionally extract a tome from his stacks and flip through it.

Jack was pretty sure he would’ve been perfectly content to watch Alex for the rest of lunch, but decided that it was becoming a little creepy as it was. He reached behind his ear to pull out a pencil but discovered he didn’t have one and ended up smacking himself in the head instead.

Annoyed at himself and his carelessness, Jack scanned the library checkout counter in case there was a cup of golf pencils or something. No luck.

Dangit. It would be stupid now to get up and go back to his locker just to grab one pencil (plus he might lose this seat and therefore the great view of Alex), which meant he actually had to talk to somebody.

Besides Alex, Jack didn’t know anyone else in the room. There were mostly older kids, studying for exams or something, hunched over their computers or textbooks with earbuds in and leave me alone sorts of expressions.

Nope, Jack was way too antisocial and nervous to talk to one of them. There was also a group of seventh grade girls huddled all on one beanbag (it didn’t make sense, there were plenty of seats available) but that was even worse— You don’t go near giggling middle schoolers. You just don’t.

Basically, that left Alex.

Double dangit.

He really didn’t want to talk to Alex. His sketchbook, with about ten pages worth of failed Alex-sketches seemed to be burning in his hand, and he looked so intense and intimidating sitting there, a fire in his eyes as he wrote.

Deep breaths, he said to himself, and before he could change his mind, stood up and strode straight over to Alex.

“Uh, hi,” he said.

Alex looked up, surprised. “Hi. Jack, right?”

The fact that he had remembered his name made Jack inexplicably happy. “Yeah. I was wondering if you had a pencil I could borrow?”

“Sure,” Alex shuffled around in his cave of papers before pulling out a perfectly sharpened pencil and tossing it to Jack. “Catch.”

To Jack’s relief, he actually managed to catch it, and said, “Thanks, Alex.”

“Any time.”

He had talked to Alex freaking Quinn without fainting or acting like a fool. Good god, they had barely said twenty words to one another and still he was drunk on the way the edges of Alex’s eyes had quirked up when he said ‘any time’, how his smile crept farther up one side of his face than the other.

Well, that’s my adrenaline rush for the day, Jack thought dryly, sinking back into his seat and poising Alex’s pencil above the paper.

It wouldn’t be a good idea to draw Alex this time, he needed something relaxing to do, so he started on trying to catch the library in his page. He started with the top of the bookshelf, sloping the sides down on a slight curve, adding the mottled flecks in the wood, the different sized books pressed next to each other, up and down like waves. He didn’t look at Alex again for the rest of lunch. 

submitted by Abigail S., age 12, Nose in a Book
(December 22, 2016 - 1:15 pm)
submitted by Top please <3
(December 22, 2016 - 1:48 pm)

I love it! Great work and keep it coming. 

submitted by Scylla
(December 22, 2016 - 3:47 pm)

Although I am not the biggest supporter of things like this, I completely respect what you did here. I haven't read your writing here, personally things like this make me uncomfertable when I read them, but I have to admit, how you are sort of peacefully fighting for rights is something I completely respect! Whoever deleted this RP should NOT do that again! Abigail S. is working hard on her story, and you should just stay out of this! I don't want to sound mean, so just think things through before you act. Doing this kind of stuff will get you in trouble one day, so be careful!

submitted by The Four Dots, age ...., ....
(December 22, 2016 - 4:31 pm)


*ahem* cough, sorry but my computer is FINALLY letting me post on inkwell after a couple weeks of blocking me from it. *grimace*

Anyways Abi this is beautiful! Your writing is so illustrative and sweet, I just want to curl into it with some milk and oreos;)  I still don't support LGBT+ but I love how you are peacefully rebelling against people who discrimate against them.  Thank you for that:)

submitted by Kaleidoscope Gryphon, age 13!!!!!!!!, The Prism Sky
(December 22, 2016 - 5:16 pm)

Wow, this is great! You're a brave girl, Abi! (Also, it's really interesting to see what it feels like to 'like' someone. I may need this for future writing reference.)

submitted by Cockleburr
(December 22, 2016 - 5:48 pm)

Thank you, everyone, for your kind comments. They mean a lot to me. ;3


However, Alex, on his part, kept finding himself glancing up from his essay and felt his eyes rest on Jack more times than was probably normal.

Jack seemed to be pretty focused (Alex could certainly relate to that), his tongue poking out from between his lips as he drew. Jack’s hair was long, longer than his own— and he had gotten plenty of grief about his own hair’s length, even though it was barely to his shoulders— and dark reddish-brown curls fell slightly into his bright, attentive green eyes as he worked, catching the warm fall sunlight that spread through the cozy library from the high windows, covering certain areas in flecks of gold.

He wasn’t going fast, but each mark was deliberate, loose, and confident. He paused often to look around the room, as if gathering material, and didn’t erase once.

He hadn’t even seen any of his drawings and Alex was already marveling at Jack’s artistic skill. He wondered if Jack had ended up drawing him. Probably not, but still, Alex sort of thought it would be cool to see a portrait of himself. Especially one by Jack.

At that moment, the bell decided to ring, three long, blaring beeps, causing Jack to fall onto the floor in surprise.

Alex stifled a laugh and set about gathering up his books.

He and Jack happened to exit the library at the same time, despite the fact the latter had a lot less to tidy up.

“Thanks for the pencil,” Jack said, holding it out to him.

Alex didn’t take it at first: “You can keep it if you like.”

“No, it’s fine, I have a bazillion in my locker, I just forgot to bring one.” Jack leaned over, tucking the pencil behind Alex’s ear and laughed. “Now you look like an artist.” He flashed Alex a wide, humor-filled grin that reached across his face and into his eyes, and it somehow affected Alex too, and he felt himself smiling.

Jack glanced at the clock. “Whoops, I have to get to class. See you around, Alex.”

And he sped off down the hallway.

Alex reached up and touched the pencil Jack had placed there. “See you around, Jack,” he said, a moment too late, for the teenager in question had already disappeared around a corner.


submitted by Abigail S., age 12, Nose in a Book
(December 22, 2016 - 6:33 pm)

Oh my geesh. Your story is absolutely amazing! As my camp self would say to things cooler than cool, that story is Kool with a K.

Great job so far! I really want to read more!





P.S. I keep almost writing Natalie after 'Salutations'! 

submitted by Moonlight, age 11, Ellesmera
(December 23, 2016 - 9:22 am)

That night, Alex got a video call from his sister Liza.

Eagerly, he clicked the green accept icon and almost instantly Liza’s beaming face filled up the laptop screen, rumpled turquoise pixie cut partly hidden under a slate-grey beanie. Liza loved the damn things. Personally, they made his head itchy.

“Aleeeeeex!” She sang, spreading her arms out wide as if asking for a hug. “My favorite little brother!”

“Your only little brother,” he quipped back, earning a laugh from her.

“Specifics, specifics. Didja do your homework yet? Sara’ll have my throat if we continue talking and you haven’t.”

“Yup, finished it. Crazy easy.”

Liza rolled her eyes. “There’s my overachieving Al.”

Alex smirked. “You know you love me.”

“Sure I do, weirdo little bro. So how’s school?”

Alex shrugged. “Not bad. Classes are fine. I’m getting good grades.”

“Any new friends?”

“What are you, my mom?”

Liza raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Kind of,” Alex conceded, thinking of Jack. Though they weren’t really friends, per se, he was probably the closest shot he had, and Alex knew if he said no Liza would give him a lecture on “being social”, and “not walking around with your head buried in some book”.

The vague answer seemed to satisfy Liza, so Alex moved on with the conversation. “How’s Riella?”

“Hi Alex! I’m doing great as a… I dunno, something that does great!” Liza’s cheerful girlfriend poked her head into the screen, her face covered in flour, before turning to Liza. “Hey, buttercup, do we have any more sponges?”

Alex pretended to gag at the nickname, causing Liza to shoot him a “look”, but her eyes still sparkled. “Yeah, in the cupboard underneath the bathroom sink. Don’t use them all.”

“Thanks, sugar!” Ria disappeared from Alex’s view, and he could hear her humming as she skipped away.

“Also don’t get flour on everything!” Liza called after her, obviously amused.

“You have weird taste in girls,” Alex said.

“I’m wounded, Alex, wounded!” shouted Ria, her voice slightly muffled. “I thought you loved me! No, this isn’t a sponge— Liza, why do we have a ten-pack of rubber duckies?”

“Don’t ask me!”

Alex snorted. “What’s she trying to do, anyway?”

“Make pancakes.”

“Isn’t it eight at night for you?”

“Yup. Not gonna question it. Her pancakes are great, but she usually makes a mess of everything.” She smiled in the general direction of where Ria appeared to be, judging from the occasional mutters complaining about the disorganization of their bathroom.

The door to Alex’s room swung open, and there was Sarah, he and Liza’s adopted mother (they still didn’t have the heart to call her ‘mom’ just yet, so she didn’t push it), pale yellow hair tied into a knot on the top of her head.

“Time for dinner, Al. Hey, Liza! How’s it going, sweetie?”

“Not bad,” Liza smiled. “It’s been fun talking to my little bro, and nice to see you too. Miss you both. I’m hoping Ria and I can come down for Chanukah.”

Alex jumped up and pumped his fist. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I can’t wait!”

“We don’t even have plane tickets yet, Alex, hold your horses,” Liza smirked.

Sarah came up behind Alex and gave him a hug. He tensed a little at the surprise contact, but relaxed quickly. “Call again soon, Liza? Soup’s getting cold.”

“Yes ma’am!” Liza saluted in mock reverence. “Bye, Alex! Bye, Sarah!”

“Bye, Liza!” Alex waved.

“Bye, honey!” Sarah said.

There was a ding and his computer screen faded to black.

“So how about soup?” Sarah asked, holding out an oven-mitt covered hand to him.

Alex accepted. “Sounds awesome.”

submitted by Abigail S., age 12, Nose in a Book
(December 23, 2016 - 11:30 am)

I love your story, Abi!

submitted by OtR
(December 23, 2016 - 1:24 pm)

*hops around* This part is SOOOOOO FLUFF! I love it!!! Literally just the other my best friend and another good friend of mine named Maggie and I were discussing various types of fanfiction, then we got into fluff, and then food-related fluff. Maggie was going on and on about how her favorite type of fluff was baking in which one of them is really bad at it. My bf liked fluff in which one person makes breakfast for the other, and I liked both equally, but mostly if it involves a bad cook. Fluff is sweet/cute/innocent fanfic romance in case you're not a fanfic-type person. I can't get enough of fluff!!! I found the dialogue very natural (by that I mean it sounds real, and familiar to how people actually talk) and cute in this scene.

submitted by Owlgirl
(December 23, 2016 - 1:32 pm)