Shawn Mendes Imagines

Writers Block

(a/n I have such bad writers block I am litterally about to write about writers block)

She walked down the sidewalk, counting the tiles to get her mind off all of the crazy thoughts running through her brain. More typed words of excellence by the amazing Y/N. Blah blah I hate this class.

"Dialouge shit," Death the end.

"Useless brain," I banged my head on my table. I had nothing. I had a 2,000 word story to write tonight starting with 
"She walked down the sidewalk, counting the tiles to get her mind off all of the crazy thoughts running through her brain. More typed words of excellence" Why do I care what is in her head? My teacher says it is to have us really get into someones head and express how they are feeling. I groaned and stuffed my laptop in my bag and walked to the library. I needed out of my crammed dorm room. I was suffocating in there. I was suffocating anyways. College and tests and papers. I walked into the library. The smell of fresh paper and cheetos welcoming me. I walked through the ghost library. Mainly because no one goes to the library on a Sunday. They are always going to frat parties. I found a table and sat down. I opened my laptop and stared at a blank screen.

She tripped. The cement breaking her fall. And ripping her skin. She groaned as she felt blood already trickling down her legs. She laid, her cheek pressed against the cool sidewalk a second before sitting up.

"No I don't want that," I backspaced it all.

I basically did this process 300 times before I was thinking about just failing the class. I don't think my mom will be that disappointed. I mean my older brother dropped out of college all together. I could do worse. At least I am here and not doing drugs in an alley right?

"Hey," I heard a voice. I jumped. My arms quickly becoming full of goosebumps. I glanced behind me. "I am Shawn. Can I sit at this table. There isn't many open," He said. I glanced around. There were at least 11 for him.

"My table is one of the only ones filled," I deadpanned.

"Okay so I am lonely give me a break," He laughed.

"Sure it is not like I am doing anything anyways," I sighed.

"Are you working?" He asked.

"Supposed to be. But I have writer's block," I said with a frustrated huff. He cocked his head to the side slightly and grabbed a chair. He swung it around the table right next to mine and sat.

"What class?" He asked.

"Fiction writing. It is supposed to start with this sentence and be 2,000 words," I explained, twisting the laptop so he could read the screen. He read it then smiled.

"I remember this assignment. I took this class last semester. I loved it," He said.

"You are an english major?" I asked.

"Minor. I am a music major actually," I stifled a laugh. "That is why I took English too okay?" He said chuckling, as he knew what I would say. "I love music though. So even if I am a major that is just as hard as art, I will do it anyways. But I do like writing also. Anyways, why is this hard for you?" He said intrigued. Why was he even talking to me? What if he thinks he is a banging major to and he is trying to get a easy target to drug. Call me paranoid but it makes sense. If you want easy sex mine as well go after the lonely girl in a empty library. Maybe because I would look desperate. Though I am not. I have had my choice of guys. Liam Payne or Harry Styles tee shirt? That is almost the hardest decision ever okay?

"I have writer's block. I don't know what to do," I exhaled.

"Well here let's talk through it. How do you write?" He asked.

"Mystery usually. That and romance,"

"Well every girl writes romance," He stated.

"Sexist."

"Truth."

"Douchebag."

"Do you want help or no?" He laughed.

"I don't know you don't seem helpful," I fired.

"Fine diss the guy who got a 97 % in the class," He smirked.

"Fine just continue," I rolled my eyes.

"Okay how about you have a guy be there," He suggested.

"Okay," I said and typed.

She couldn't hear anything. She couldn't see anything. But she could feel something. A presence. Someone was there. She knew it.

"Nice start," He said. 

Two hours later, I had a 2,000 word paper, an empty bag of cheetos from the vending machine, some sodas and a I guess friend.

"This paper is amazing!" Shawn yelled. I shushed him, laughing.

"Be quiet the cheetos must be getting to you," I joked. 

"There is no one here yell at us," He argued. Even the library helpers left I think. But why would they stay at 1 am. 

"Well I need to go home and sleep the pain in my finger off," I said standing up. He stood with me. 

"Hey can I have your number," He said following with "Just in case you ever have writers block again?" I grinned.

"Is it really just so you can help me with homework?" I questioned.

"Man do you have to shut down all my flirts," He shook his head. I giggled. Then I wrote it down for him and handed it to him. 

"Y/N Y/L/N"

"What about it," I asked.

"I am just think how beautiful it would sound with a 'and Shawn Mendes' after it," He said. 

I went home grinning so hard, I swore my face would be more sore than my fingers.

A/N 

I litteraly wrote about writers block. Fml. 

Anyways I was looking at my demographics (it is statistics of your story you can only look at them on PC) but I don't know I was just thinking. I even have someone from TAIWAN reading my story. Whoever you are by the way go you fam. Just it is weird to think people are reading my stories from other places. And I am just a weird teenage girl. 

Thanks Hillaryxxn for being my motivator with 'Just do it' XD everyone have a good day!