#30k november challenge

[duplicityvn]

O B S E S S I O N :: 30 Fics in 30 Days

11387 / 30000 words. 38% done!

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This challenge is something I made based off the 30k November challenge. I plan on writing one short story per day every day of November, and since I know I'll probably blow past the 30k mark, I changed the name.

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"Obsession" is a look into the mind of 'Griffin', how his thoughts work, and what he feels for Y/N.

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WC: 869 (shorter fic) :: CW: general yandere tendencies/thoughts

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He could see you through the window of the café, working and chatting with that co-worker of yours. That awful, pathetic snake of a man that couldn’t stop staring at you every time you turned your back. His fists clenched in the pockets of his sweater as he continued to observe.

He was sitting on a bench across the street, his eyes trained on you through the window. There was no way you wouldn’t be his. He just had to play his cards right, get you to trust him, get you to rely on him. To not need anyone else other than him.

He glanced around the empty street again before subtly lifting his camera, zooming in on you in a way that was practiced. Clearly, he’d done this before. He’d done it almost every day since the day he first walked into the café, when he saw your bright welcoming smile and heard your voice. A melody to his ears.

He was just taking pictures for your scrapbook, that was all. Pictures that you’ll put in an album together, showing off his devotion and love to you. Your future children together will appreciate it, won’t they? Or, even if you didn’t want children, it would be something to look back on. Something to remember.

Because his love was always going to be one hell of a memory.

He felt the phone in his pocket buzz, pulling it out eagerly only to be met with a message that made him clench his jaw tightly.

Alex: Where are you? I thought you were coming today.

Of course, they would reach out to him, now of all times. Interrupting his time with you—even if you didn’t know it, this was your time together. Where he was watching over you, protecting you, mentally filing away every little touch and look that snake gave you.

He was only trying to protect you! You can’t see the evil that you work with. How could you? That snake’s manipulation rivaled his own. He was scared that your co-worker would have you wrapped around his stupid little finger in no time if you weren’t careful enough.

Christ, already he had to save you from him. Walking behind you and accidentally bumping into you. Those chance meetings? They weren’t chance, little owl.

He ignored the text and shoved the phone back into his pocket, looking up at the café again. He was wearing a hooded sweater, not his usual style, but then again… You only saw what he wanted you to see. You weren’t ready to see him yet, no.

You’d be scared if he wasn’t so charming and friendly with you. You couldn’t handle the dark miasma swirling inside of him, not yet, no. Not until you were truly his.

He’d planned so much for you together. Everything from the way you met, to the way you’ll get married in the near-future. Because he’ll have you loving him so much, you wouldn’t know what to do without him. You wouldn’t be able to stand not having him near you. Not having him by your side, protecting you, reminding you how precious and delicate you really were. What a sweet little bird you were, his Pidge.

His eyes zeroed in on the way that snake orchestrated bumping into you, accidentally burning you with black coffee. How dare he harm you, even if for a chance to take care of you. He didn’t love you, Pidge.

Of course he didn’t.

Not like he did. He would never harm you, little owl, not ever. He wouldn’t plan these stupid little moments that cause you physical harm in order just to have your attention for two fucking seconds.

His hands curled into tight fists, his fingers digging into the skin of his palms painfully. That pain was a reminder for him to keep calm, keep his cool and definitely do not storm into the café right now. That wouldn’t do.

That would give him away. You weren’t ready for him, pigeon. You weren’t ready to see just how much he loved and c h e r i s h e d you.

The snake, however, was already on thin ice. He’d know soon enough. He’d know that you belong to him. That he already claimed you long before this asshole showed up.

His phone buzzed once more and he let out a noise of frustration, pulling it out of his pocket again. As much as he wanted to ignore it, there was only one other person worthy of his attention other than you. Sorry, Pidge. He had family obligations.

Alex: Seriously?? I really needed you today, man. I’m already having a tough time.

He bit his lip, drawing blood. Now he was conflicted. On one hand, he needed to stay here and make sure the snake didn’t bite you when he wasn’t supposed to. On the other hand, he did make previous plans.

He glanced up again and located you coming from the back room, a bandage around your hand and your co-worker walking behind you with a self-satisfied smile. What a fucking prick.

He sighed when he looked at his messages again.

He’d see you again soon.

Don’t you worry about that.

[cinderswrites]

S A C R I F I C E :: 30 Fics in 30 Days

8560 / 30000 words. 29% done!

───⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰───

This challenge is something I made based off the 30k November challenge. I plan on writing one short story per day every day of November, and since I know I'll probably blow past the 30k mark, I changed the name.

───⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰───

"Sacrifice" is a story about sisterly love, and the lengths one sister will do for the others. It's also a story about needing to recognize your boundaries.

It is also, in part, a small fanfic since it features the character Viktor from @yga-vn, an upcoming dark/horror romance visual novel by @kuruchyo.

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WC: 2,286 :: CW: I don't think there are any, but there's a demon, so lmao.

───⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰───

“Ugh, Nova, you always take everything from me!”

Verity’s shrill voice carried through the corridor, ringing in the ears of the housemaids as she shouted at her older sister. Ariadne flinched and sighed softly from the sitting room just a few feet away from the main hall where her sisters were arguing. She was the middle one of the three of them, the beautiful and sought after Greywind sisters from House Greywind. A family name as old as time itself and the very definition of “old money family”.

The short woman stood up, pulling the velvet purple cloak tight around her shoulders again and setting down her book. Just one evening of quiet is all I asked for… her thoughts were bitter as she went to find her sisters.

Nova was standing with her hand on her hip, her other hand holding a bag high out of Verity’s reach. Nova’s impressive height was something she used to her advantage often. Verity’s face was flushed red in anger and she looked like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, the way she was stomping her foot and crossing her arms.

When her gray eyes spotted Ariadne’s form, she stomped over and grabbed her older sister’s wrist and tugged on it, pointing at Nova. “Ariii,” Verity whined, using her doe-like eyes to plead with the short woman. “Nova stole my new clutch.”

“I did not!” Nova said fiercely. “I just bought this one, today.”

“Since when have you ever had a lick of fashion sense?!” Verity shot back.

Ariadne wanted to smack both of them upside the head for being so loud and disruptive. They knew better. It was quiet hours in the manor, for their father suffered chronic migraines in the evening. “Both of you knock it off, now!” she snapped quietly.

Both sisters straightened up and looked at her with apologetic expressions. “Sorry,” Nova mumbled, looking down and fidgeting with the zipper on the bag.

“Yeah, me too,” Verity said, letting go of her arm and sighing.

Ariadne ushered them both to sit on the couch, herself taking a seat between them. “Verity, when was the last time you saw your purse?” she asked.

“A week ago when I went out with that Scarsbee man,” Verity said, brushing back her short pale blue hair. “I came home and went to my room and left it on my vanity table and haven’t been able to find it ever since.”

Ariadne turned to Nova then, whose long indigo waves were drawn like a curtain around her features. “Nova, do you have the receipt for the bag you bought today?”

“Of course I do,” she snorted, opening the bag and pulling out a slip of white paper. She handed it to the middle sister, who looked it over.

“Mm, yeah, Verity,” she showed the receipt to her. “The date of sale is listed as today. This bag isn’t yours.”

Verity’s gray eyes squinted at the receipt, as if trying to find hints of forgery or tampering. Then she let out a long-suffering groan and fell back against the couch. “Okay, fine! But that still doesn’t solve my issue.”

“Your issue is that you’re a lawless spoiled brat,” Nova muttered, earning herself a painful nudge in the ribs by Ariadne.

“Enough, both of you. Nova, why don’t you go find something to do? I’ll help Ver find her purse.”

“Fine by me. Oh, and when you have the time, could you call the Dorsby house and let him know I’m not attending his banquet tonight?” Nova stood, pulling her own black cloak around herself and walking away without another word.

Ariadne reached up and rubbed her temple for a few seconds before turning to her younger sister. “Come on, let’s go to your room.”

…

“I’ve looked everywhere, Ari, it’s just not here!” Verity was whining again a few minutes later as she threw herself on her bed.

Ariadne ignored the younger woman’s whining and searched the area where her vanity table sat. “If you let the maids come in here, you’d be more organized and could find things better,” she chided. “Look at this mess on the table. You’re wasting makeup by letting it spill out everywhere!”

Verity just hugged a cylindrical pillow and pouted.

The middle sister’s keen yellow eyes swept over the surface, her hands picking through the items, checking behind and underneath things. When it was clear that the bag wasn’t in the heaping pile of feminine products, she checked the drawer. She thought it was ironic how clean and spotless the empty drawer was compared to the surface of the vanity.

She stood back a moment, planting her hands on her hips and glancing around the area. Her eye caught the glint of a gold chain slung over the mirror and disappeared behind it. As she walked up to it, she thought she’d caught a glimpse of a pair of glowing purple eyes in the mirror, hiding in the shadows of Verity’s bed canopy. The corner of her mouth twitched upwards and when she blinked, the eyes were gone.

Ariadne grabbed the thick gold chain, pulling it off the mirror. Lo and behold, on the other end of it was the exact bag the woman had been looking for. With one hand remaining on her hip, she turned and gave her sister a look. “It’s been here the whole time, Ver,” she said.

Verity’s face flushed in embarrassment, her pout lingering as her gray eyes flicked away. “Guess I forgot I changed the strap…” she mumbled.

Ari sighed and rolled her eyes, slinging the bag forward and tossing it onto the bed. “Use your brain next time. You know you’re not supposed to get Nova all worked up like that,” she chastised. “Come to me if you need help.”

Verity finally sat up on the bed and held the purse in her hands, fiddling with the zipper. Despite how often her sisters were at each other’s throats, the resemblance between them was plain as day to anyone else but them. It still shocked Ariadne when Verity would display the same little quirks Nova often had.

“Yeah, okay,” she said. “I’m sorry I made a scene.”

Ariadne’s expression softened. She walked over to the young woman and reached out with slender fingers, preening her hair and brushing it to the side. Something she always did out of habit, ever since they were young. She was the middle sister, the one that had to look after her younger sister since Nova made it very clear she wasn’t going to. But Nova had always been that way, and not in a selfish sense. She just couldn’t care for other people as well as Ariadne did.

And that was fine with Ari. She loved taking care of and helping her sisters, even if it was mentally and sometimes physically exhausting, always having to be the middle woman, the messenger, the one that smoothed things over. “Don’t worry about it,” she pulled her hand away. “I need to go take care of Nova’s thing now.”

“You’re always so helpful, you know?” Verity’s fond tone carried out the door after Ariadne had left.

───⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰───

“Yes… Mr. Dorsby? Good evening,” Ariadne stood at the manor’s house phone, twirling her finger around the chord. Her parents were always fond of vintage aesthetics and this rotary phone that still worked even now, in 2024, was a favorite item of theirs. “It’s Ariadne Greywind from House Greywind calling.”

“Ah, Miss Greywind. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Mr. Dorsby was a middle-aged man with average looks and a wealth that almost rivaled theirs.

“I regret to inform you that Nova will not be attending your banquet this evening,” she said. “She’s down with an illness tonight.”

There was a heavy sigh that breathed in her ear, and she knew what was coming next. “What a shame… I was looking forward to having one of the prestigious Greywind daughters. I even bragged about it to my friends, you know. I planned a wonderful evening for her.”

Ariadne’s lower eyelid twitched, and she pursed her lips. “I do sincerely apologize, Mr. Dorsby. Perhaps-“

“Say, are you doing anything tonight?” he asked suddenly.

She slumped against the wall, “… I am not.”

“Why don’t you come in her place? You said you’re Ariadne, right? The middle daughter?”

“Yes, that’s correct, Mr. Dorsby.”

“Join me. I’ll have my driver come pick you up in, oh, say… Two hours? Is that plenty of time for you to get ready, Miss Greywind?” Dorsby’s voice sounded delighted.

Ariadne pinched the bridge of her nose, “That’s plenty of time. Thank you, Mr. Dorsby. I’ll see you in two hours’ time, then.”

“See you soon, dear.”

───⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰───

It was almost midnight by the time Ariadne was walking back up to House Greywind, her feet throbbing with pain and smelling like expensive colognes and cigar smoke. The banquet had been… alright, if not a bit stuffy. Many influential men and women were in attendance, and Ariadne herself was seated next to Mr. Dorsby the entire night. He had gotten loose-lipped and flattering with every scotch he drank as the night went on, but he was thirty years her senior.

She did her duties as best as she could, avoiding casual touches and questions with hidden implications. Not just from Mr. Dorsby, but from a whole slew of “eligible” bachelors that were in attendance. At the end of the night, when Dorsby had bid her farewell, he had expressed his appreciation for her attendance and apologized if anyone had made her uncomfortable, including himself.

Overall, it had been a good time, she thought. Not that she wanted to repeat the experience anytime soon, but she was glad she went in Nova’s place now. Nova wouldn’t have been able to stand so many people sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at a long table. At least with Ariadne there, she could continue to keep House Greywind’s reputation to high standards with her maturity and grace.

Once she was in her bedroom, she kicked off the heels that had been pinching her feet all night. She undressed completely and pulled on a pair of soft cotton pajamas. Ariadne sat at her vanity and removed the makeup she had applied earlier. Staring at herself in the mirror, with every swipe of the makeup wipe, she revealed pale patches that starkly contrasted her otherwise warm brown tone.

It’s not that she was ashamed of them, no. She only covered them up with makeup to avoid being stared at and being asked question after question of what afflicted her. It was Dorsby’s banquet, after all. Not Ariadne’s.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she told herself as she continued cleaning her face, frowning.

A little while later, she had turned out the lights and settled into her large plush bed, her yellow eyes glancing out her window. She could see a strip of night sky just barely, and she focused on that as her eyelids became heavier and heavier.

───⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰───

Some few minutes after she’d fallen asleep, she was woken up abruptly by feeling a presence plop onto her side and stomach, covering her legs as well. “Ari,” a voice whispered like smoke, wrapping around her and pulling her out of sleep. “Wake up, I’m lonely.”

Ariadne groaned and reached up to rub her eyes, shifting to lay on her back. The presence on top of her practically purred and laid its head on her soft stomach area. “Viktor?” she mumbled, blinking several times.

Those glowing purple eyes gazed up at her in an almost innocent manner, before flashing a set of pearly pointed teeth. “Mornin’, starshine,” he said.

She could see his tail lazily flicking back and forth beyond the purple horns on his head. Her hand went up to stroke through his dark tresses at the top of his head, being careful to not touch his horns. The action was instinctual at this point, since she’d done it so many nights before. “You couldn’t let me sleep a little longer?” she huffed quietly.

The demon pouted a little, “I was bored.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile on her lips, “You’re so troublesome, you know that?”

“Mm, I could be more troublesome if it’ll make you feel better,” he teased, lifting his head off her stomach and resting his cheek against one of his fists. He watched her expressions with those striking violet eyes of his.

“Don’t you dare,” she scolded lightly, a soft laugh escaping her.

He grinned again before speaking, “So, where’d you go tonight? I tried to follow but I lost the car you were in.”

His tail whipped through the air, smacking against the bed with a thump, indicating his frustration. Viktor had gotten… quite attached to her in the months after she’d finally caught him trying to torment her like a pest. He didn’t like not knowing where she was, or when she left her house.

Ariadne tugged on a strand of his hair lightly, making him pout again. “I went to a banquet in Nova’s place,” she explained. “I didn’t get home until a little while ago.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste, folding his hands over her stomach and resting his chin on them. His eyes looked away. “No wonder you smell funny,” he grumbled, still clearly displeased.

“I smell fine,” she protested, “I was too tired to bathe tonight.”

“Why couldn’t Nova go? Or that little brat of yours,” he huffed.

“Because Nova can’t handle large crowds, and that little brat—“ she tugged on his hair again, “—would probably embarrass us.”

“You’re always doing something to help out your sisters,” he looked at her then, his expression rather serious. “When do you ever do anything for yourself?”

Ariadne hummed softly. Her eyes traced over the similar light patches on his own skin. He had been the only one she’d ever seen like herself before. Maybe that was part of the reason she put up with his presence. After all, not many people would welcome a demon to come back every night. “I don’t know,” she admitted after a few beats.

Viktor’s tail lashed again, angrier this time. “You’re going to burn out one of these days, you know? And who’s going to help you, then?”

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Instead, she sighed and looked away. “I’m fine…” she didn’t even sound convincing.

Her hand was still playing with his hair, and his tail came up to wrap around her wrist, pulling her hand away. He pinned it to the bed as he suddenly lifted himself up onto his hands, hovering over her now, his face just above hers. “You’re not fine,” he murmured. “I can see it in your face. You’re tired and wearing thin.”

She clenched her jaw for a moment, before relaxing and meeting his eyes once more. “I’ll… try to not be…” she trailed off again, struggling to find a suitable word.

“A pushover? A doormat?”

Her eyes narrowed before she rolled them, “Compliant.”

Viktor hummed thoughtfully in response, settling his taller frame on top of hers. His clawed hand came up to brush through her hair as he looked down at her, only inches away from her. “I can find other ways for you to fill that… need to ‘comply’, as you put it,” he teased, his other hand stroking her cheek with his thumb.

Ariadne laughed softly, her face heating up with his implication, “You’re too much sometimes.”

He placed a soft kiss on her chin, trailing them along her jawline. She let out a relaxed sigh this time, a soft hum of her own emitting from her lips. “On the contrary,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, taking in her sweet scent of jasmine and shea butter. “I like to think I’m just what you need, my little lamb.”

“Little lamb?”

“Mm. Because you can’t stop sacrificing yourself for those ungrateful sisters of yours.”

“… and here I thought you were just being cute.”

Another wicked grin from him as he lifted his head and nuzzled his nose against hers. “I’m also being that,” he added.

His tail had let her wrist go finally, and Ariadne drew her arms up, wrapping them around his neck. She pulled him closer in an embrace, hiding her face against his shoulder. “I promise I’ll try harder to be less of a pushover,” she whispered, her tone almost vulnerable.

“Sweet lamb,” he crooned softly, and suddenly he had her pulled against his side, laying on his back with her nestled into him. “I’ll take care of you since you can’t be bothered to do it yourself.”

“How do you make that sound so sweet and infuriating at the same time?” she huffed as she snuggled up to him more, almost clinging onto him at this point.

“It’s just one of my charms, darling,” he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Sleep now.”

“Mm,” she hummed, resting her head on his warm chest and letting herself be lulled to sleep by the soft touches of his hand stroking through her hair.

[cepetriwrites]

On god we gonna hit 30k

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[roughdraftmonth]

Here's Everything You Need to Know About RDMO!

The first Rough Draft Month began on November 1st, 2024.

Rough Draft is a 30-day creative challenge led by a small group of writers and artists seeking to find joy and community in the creative process.

What is a "Rough Draft"?

Every great piece of art or literature starts as an idea - but it doesn’t stop there. A rough draft is your first attempt at taking on your creative project from start to finish. This process can be very daunting - but that's why we're here. RDMO will help you achieve your goals in a fun and community focused way.

Sharable Information: Instagram | Tumblr

Goal Tiers

Instead of a main challenge, we created 4 tiers (60K, 50K, 30K, and Flex) to create flexibility for your unique project. Examples of a Flex Goal include lines for poetry, scenes for screenplays, panels for graphic novels/cartoonists, and more.

This year we will be tracking our progress together on trackbear.app

Pick the goal that fits your project and join us!

🗻 Mountain Trail (60k)

🌳 Forest Trail (50k)

🌊 Waterfall Trail (30k)

🌙 Moonlight Trail (Flex Goal)

We've created challenge maps to guide you along your trail.

You can also use these graphics we created to tell others that you plan to participate. Get the word out!

Community Events

One of the best parts about November creative challenges is the mutual support and encouragement during such a big project. Join our Discord to participate with the RDMO community!

Other Features:

🎶 Listen to & save our curated writing playlists

✉ Sign up for our email newsletter for updates, advice, and resources to help you meet your goal - like how to find inspiration for your next project!

🏅 Sticker Book - Achievement Collecting 🔑 Locked In - Word Count Game ⏰ Let Me Cook - Pomodoro Timer

+ More Coming Soon!

We are working hard to create a space that promotes creativity and originality while being fun and supportive. Thank you for your interest and we hope to see you on the trails! ✏

[tmblr-university]

Statement on NaNoWriMo

Hello Students,

Allow your president to get sentimental for a moment. I first started NaNoWriMo - I failed. I failed every time, but I loved it. It kept me writing. I learned more about myself each time I tried. I saw communities grow on forums. I knew one day I would succeed if I just kept trying. Then today I learned of the plethora of NaNoWriMo's controversies. From allowing AI use to (allegedly) having predators groom minors.

I am heartbroken at the loss of a yearly staple. AI users miss the most obvious reason writers write, for the love of it. We do not create purely for the purpose of creating, in order to have some item to show off as proof that we "did a thing". We write to tell stories, to foster communities, to inspire, to make people laugh or cry, to realize the fantasies in our heads.

And though NaNoWriMo has torpoed in favor of AI, the spirit of it should not die.

@novella-november is starting a writing challenge: write 30K in a month

I will also be looking to see if there's a tag for those looking to do the traditional challenge of 50K words.

Tmblr University will be supporting writing challenges in November by reblogging or posting writing tips and prompts. (As best as a 1 person attending actual school can do)

I wish everyone a successful prepping during September.

[mellosdrawings]

Hi~

Just a heads up, I'll be doing a little writing challenge during November (no, not NaNoWriMo, fuck that AI endorsement shite).

I'll be trying to write at least 1k words per day and finish that godsdamned Assassin’s Creed WIP I've had in the works for literal YEARS. Dunno if 30k words will even be enough to finish it, it's already currently at 50k and I'm nowhere near done, but at least I'd make progress on it.

So I won't be quite as present here. I will post some more of my Twisted Stories since I have a bunch in advance, and I'll come back with more Twst nonsense every once in a while, but yeah, a little quiet month in terms of social media for me.

Plus I'll be working more actively on that Wings!AU booklet so I can have something to show before 2024 ends!

Wish me luck!

[hell-river]

If we’re doing art wrap ups I suppose I should also do a writing wrap up. The biggest achievement being, of course, actually finishing my novel. I am mid way through editing it again, which is a lot of fun.

For November I did a 30k in 30 days challenge and as always went kind of haywire working on too many things, but I did complete it, and I wrote a short story I’m very proud of. I’ve posted it to AO3 so you can find it there if you would like some sad cowboy stories:

It’s been a very busy year for me outside of writing so I’m glad to have been able to accomplish some things that I’m really proud of. As well as doing a whole heap of reading. 27 books and counting!

[gaiaseyes451]

A Little Life - Chapter 5 - Most of You

First and foremost, a MASSIVE THANK YOU to @ineffablecrankshaft for this gorgeous sketch for one of the scenes in this chapter! I squealed when I saw it. Just, I LOVE IT, UGH!!! <3

Rated: E, Words: ~30k/~71k. 5/12 Chapters. Read the tags!

Chapter Excerpt (Read on AO3):

Over the years he’d built a reputation for asking questions at seminars. Not at every one, of course, that’d be obnoxious, but at a reasonable majority of them. Being questioned by Professor Crowley meant he found the research engaging, his questions were difficult but insightful. It was a compliment.

The first presenter stepped to the podium. As he listened he jotted down thoughts, a few observations, some values as the questions began to form. When she’d finished speaking and opened the floor to questions he raised his hand, glancing down at his scrawl to bring the question into focus.

His notes were gibberish. The page was covered in half words, broken midway through the thought. Partial observations and fragmented questions were all he’d recorded; parsing them together into a coherent question was impossible. He began to lower his hand.

*~*~*

Summary:

When Professor of Botany Anthony Crowley met bookshop owner Ezra Fell one November afternoon both knew their lives had irrevocably changed. From that moment forward, Anthony and Ezra’s existence was intertwined. Their story was written in the moments and memories they created as they moved through life’s chapters of coming together, building a family and facing the challenges of being human. This is a story of unconditional love and the joy and humour, obstacles and grief that inevitably come with choosing the same person, day after day, over and over and over again.

*~*~*

A huge thanks to @goodomensafterdark for the writers community. And an extra special thanks to @hakunahistata and @the-literal-kj for beta'ing this story. Finally, a huge thanks for @fuzzygoblin for the song prompt that inspired this work.

[tea-and-typewriter]

Writing Month Goals

So, this year for November I'll be participating in an assortment of writing challenges. Like so many others, I'm migrating away from NaNoWriMo after having participated on and off for the last 6 years. I want to share the challenges I'll be following and my personal goals in case you're also looking for options.

My overall writing goal is to write 75k words by December 31. This means I'd like to write 37.5k words in November. I'll be working on my Project Cafe Crime, and you can follow me for updates, writing sprints, and more.

There are three main challenges I'll be interacting with:

The first is @roughdraftmonth. This challenge focuses on writing a novel rough draft by the end of November. They have a few different options for word count goals, including a "set your own" style goal. They seem to be one of the more streamlined challenges I've found.

The second is @novella-november. They're focused on writing a 30k novella by the end of November, but the creator says all word counts and project types (poetry, novels, etc.) are welcome. I like the flexibility of this one.

The last challenge I'll be following is @yournovembernovel. They're focused on the popular 50k in a month format, but they do have the option to choose your own goal. This one seems to be more casual and community focused which I enjoy.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading, and good luck on your writing!

[cinderswrites]

F A I T H :: 30 Fics in 30 Days 3256 / 30000 words. 11% done!

-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-

This challenge is something I made based off the 30k November challenge. I plan on writing one short story per day every day of November, and since I know I'll probably blow past the 30k mark, I changed the name.

-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-

"Faith" is a story about challenging beliefs, rebellion, and maybe hope a little bit.

-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-

:: WC: 3,256 :: CW: mentions of religion, mentions of suicide ::

!! The opinions of the characters in this story do not reflect my personal beliefs or stances on these particular subjects. !!

-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧-

The sun was hot against her back as Audrina trailed behind her father and his wife up the sidewalk to his church. It stood stark white against the deep emeralds of the pine trees behind it. Trees that were evergreen and thick with needles. A forest that called to her, whispered her name almost.

She wanted to be anywhere other than here, that was for damn sure.

Don’t say that.

The harsh voice of her father scolded her in her mind, even though he appeared to be calm and in a pleasant mood as he unlocked the heavy oak door to the church. The twins, her step-mother’s children from a previous marriage, stood off to the side, whispering between each other and shooting her glances with their identical pale blue eyes.

Eyes that reminded her of a dead fish.

“Audrina,” her father said, his voice stern and nasally. Her cornflower blue eyes, a blue that was actually pleasing to look at, jerked towards him like a deer in headlights. “Make sure the pews are clean and everyone’s hymnals are in their place.”

He was a shorter man, rather portly in the middle even if he refused to acknowledge it, if the strain on his white button shirt was any indication. His round face was clean-shaven and there was a tiny cut on the side of his jaw he hadn’t noticed. The blood had dried on their drive to the church and it was what her eyes focused on as he issued his demands.

Always so demanding.

She’d been free of it for the last ten years, at least. But now she was home, back in this tiny awful town somewhere in Nowhere, Colorado. They could hardly be considered a part of what the lower states were often called: the Bible Belt.

Since she was a good daughter, though, she nodded and walked through the door he held open for her. Inside the church, it was dusty and humid, typically in this time of year. It was still early summer. She’d only returned from college a few weeks ago and already she hated this place. The dust was almost thick enough to choke her, and she almost wondered why none of the parishioners helped clean the place up.

She took her time making sure everything was neat and organized like she had been taught as a young girl. They always arrived hours before service anyway. In the background, she could hear the twins still whispering, watching her like the creepy little things they were. Mary Louanne’s daughters might just be the devil’s spawn, she thought to herself.

Some time had passed and about a half-hour into the service, Audrina slipped out the back of the chapel, making her way to the front door. She was suffocating in this heat, made worse by the many bodies occupying the pews and the thick wafting perfumes that hung heavily in the air from women fanning themselves. It was a church, not a gala. She never understood why the women dressed up to talk about Jesus.

Audrina pushed open the heavy oak door, closing it behind her and turning around, wiping the sweat off her brow. Her thick wavy chestnut brown hair hung almost sadly around her shoulders, also weighed down by the humidity. If only she had an elastic, or a ribbon–

She paused in her motions, taking on the deer in the headlights look again. There was a man some odd ten feet or so from the oak door. He had his hands shoved inside the pockets of his leather jacket–Who the hell wears leather in the eighty degree summer heat?

His dark eyes flicked to her face, startled to see her as well. He shifted his weight from hip to hip for a moment, looking away, his expression troubled. She lowered her hand and folded it in front of her with the other one, watching him carefully. She’d seen him around before, usually after services, hovering on the edge. Watching the parishioners leave. Watching her father thank people and talk with them about the day’s sermon as he always loved to drone on about it long after it was over.

The man reached up to run a hand through his sandy blond hair, a messy thing that fell in loose waves around his face and down his neck. He had ear piercings and tattoos, and there was stubble on his face like he hadn’t bothered to clean up. “So, uh-“ his voice was a smooth and deep timbre, like the low hum of a bass guitar in the rock songs she sneakily listened to sometimes. “Sermon not… good today?” His question was awkward and it was clear he didn’t know what to say.

Audrina looked down with a small smile, trying not to be impolite by laughing. She glanced up at him, shaking her head slightly. “No, no,” she stuck her hands in the pockets of her dress skirt, pockets she’d sewn in herself. “It’s rather… muggy in there. I needed some fresh air, although… it’s not much better out here, is it?”

She raised her hand, blocking the hot sun and looking up in the clear blue sky. For a summer day, it was wonderful. For a Sunday, it was torture.

The man chuckled and scuffed his black boot against the ground, “Yeah, I suppose it isn’t.”

Feeling a little less on edge, she took a few steps towards him until she stood beside him, turning to face the church and look at it as he had been. “Do you need… help, or anything?” she asked with a side glance.

He seemed to stiffen a bit when she came near, even though she’d kept a polite distance between them. “Ah, no…” he hesitated. “Guess I’m just… curious, maybe.”

“About… the church?” she pressed.

“Sorta,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly struggling with what he was trying to say. “I don’t know.”

His sigh made her turn her head to look at him. “Well… do you want to go in for service?” she tried a different approach.

His brown eyes met hers as he scoffed, wrinkling his nose. Up close, she could see a smattering of freckles on his face. “No,” he said quickly.

Audrina shrugged, “Alright, then.”

As she looked back at the church, her hands resting in her pockets, she could feel his gaze on the side of her face. Like he was studying her. He spoke up after a minute or so of silence, “What’s your name? I see you around with the priest and his wife sometimes.”

“Audrina,” her blue eyes flicked to him as she answered, before moving back to the church. “Audrina Montgomery. The priest is my father, and his wife is my step-mother, Mary Louanne. Her daughters, the twin girls that are usually hovering around, are Sarah and Jane.”

“Mm,” he grunted in response, looking away. “Those twins, your step-sisters… they’re kinda freaky looking, yeah?” he pointed out.

That brought out a surprise laugh from her, and she tilted her head down, unable to hide her grin. “Yeah, yeah they are,” she agreed. She turned her face towards him again. “They’re always together and always whispering and watching me. It’s definitely… freaky.”

He chuckled in response, and she found it to be a comforting noise for an odd reason, “That’s fucking weird.”

Her lips twitched a little at his cursing. She wasn’t entirely a prude, she’d heard people cursing in college and occasionally did it herself, but she wasn’t used to it. Not in Lone River, at least. “So, who are you?” she questioned, keeping her voice casual and friendly as she looked at him once more.

The man shifted his weight around again, as if debating on telling her. “Miah Banks,” he finally said.

“Miah? That’s a name I haven’t heard,” she raised an eyebrow.

“It’s short for Jeremiah,” he shrugged. “Reagan gave the name to me a while ago.”

“Reagan?” her eyes widened.

As in Reagan, Reagan? The scary ruthless leader of that biker gang on the edge of town her father warned her about when she returned home? Did that mean he was also a gang member?

Miah frowned slightly, his guard going up immediately. “… Yeah, Reagan,” his tone was flat.

Audrina’s face softened, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that. Truth be told, I haven’t been in Lone River for a lot of years, so I’m still unfamiliar with all… well, you know.”

He nodded, relaxing a little, “I see. I guess I’m just used to people writing us off as devils in leather, or somethin’.”

She let out a soft snort. “Now, Devils in Leather would kind of be a cool name,” she smiled playfully.

Miah’s stoic-looking face cracked into a lopsided grin as he chuckled, “It does sound good. Maybe I should bring it up to Reagan and see what he thinks.”

“Speaking of leather, how are you not melting?” she looked pointedly at his black leather jacket. He didn’t even seem to be sweating.

He shrugged one of his broad shoulders, “Used to it.”

“Well, I’m not, so I’m going to move over that way for some shade,” she started walking towards the tree line. She could already feel the cooler wind from the forest beckoning her, wrapping around her ankles and pulling her forward like invisible tendrils begging her to get closer.

Miah followed behind her without hesitation, his boots crunching against the dry grass and pebble mixture. Audrina sat beneath one of the pine trees, carefully folding her skirt underneath her and behind mindful of the pine needles. He sat down near her, raising one of his knees and draping an arm on top of it. “So, you’re the priest’s daughter, then?” he asked, wanting clarification.

“Unfortunately,” she rolled her eyes, sighing. The cooler air beneath the shade of the trees was already helping her feel less like she was boiling.

He glanced at her curiously, “And you sound happy about that, I see.”

“It’s not that-“ she sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, life’s kinda like that, I noticed,” he offered casually. “Something you want to get off your mind?”

Audrina studied his face for a moment, wondering if he was being genuine. He wasn’t anything like the monsters her father tried to paint the Sons of Night as. If anything, he seemed rather… calm. She looked away, back to the church once again. “He sent me away,” she explained. “To a private school. Catholic. I lived there until I graduated, and then I went to college, and now I’m home, and it’s…”

“Complicated?”

She glanced at him and smiled. “Yeah. Complicated,” she ran a hand through her thick locks and sighed.

“… It sounds like it might have been rough on you,” Miah stated. “That school, I mean.”

“It was,” she nodded. “I wasn’t able to mail letters to any of my friends back home, and they all moved on and grew up without me. Everything had to be done according to their rules or we were punished unfairly. My father remarried and didn’t even invite me to the wedding. I didn’t even know I had little sisters until I came back, so that should tell you how much he kept in touch with me.”

She looked down at her hands, scratching at some dry skin on her cuticle. Just the thought of that awful school almost made her shiver out of habit. Miah’s voice was gentle as he spoke to her, “You must have been pretty lonely, then. Still, even.”

Audrina looked up at him, not bothering to hide the vulnerable expression on her face. “Yeah… I am,” she huffed a bitter laugh.

Miah’s eyes were filled with something like understanding as he met hers. “Sorry you went through that.”

She shook her head, waving her hand dismissively. “It’s… fine. I’m fine, really. Just figuring out where to go from here,” she let out another sigh.

“My old man wasn’t much of a father, either,” he sympathized. “He tried, but his mind was too… messed up, or somethin’.”

Miah had pulled a cigarette out of the pack he pulled from his jacket, sticking it between his lips and lighting it up. He hesitated for a moment before offering the pack to her.

Audrina stared at it, her heart suddenly skipping a beat. She reached out and took one, leaning towards him as he lit it. She took a careful drag, wrinkling her nose at the vaguely familiar taste of tobacco and nicotine. She’d smoked a few times, mostly socially, in college, but even so, she still coughed a bit.

Miah chuckled a little, exhaling a plume of blue-white smoke himself. “First time?”

“No,” she mumbled, her cheeks heating up a little out of embarrassment. “Been a while.”

“Rebellious,” he said, amused. “I like it.”

Audrina couldn’t hide the smile that comment caused, “S-shut up…”

“Anyway,” Miah continued after a moment. “My dad was the kind of person that just couldn’t handle life, I think. He ended up offing himself when I was sixteen.”

She took a drag and it went down easier this time, exhaling and looking at him in surprise. “S-suicide?” she whispered.

He nodded.

“Jeez,” she let out a breath, “I’m sorry, Miah.”

The blond shook his head, “Don’t be. It’s a selfish thing, suicide. You think you’re keeping others from being burdened by you, but really you’re just leaving behind people that need you.”

She looked at the church again. Her mind wondered what sort of deity would be so cruel to afflict someone’s mind with such torment that their only relief was to no longer exist. “Do you believe? In God, religion, or anything like that?” she asked suddenly.

Miah laughed bitterly, “Hell no. What about you? Did your little school girl pinafore and habit leech your beliefs out of you?” His tease was almost on the mark.

Audrina scoffed, shooting a glare at him. “I wasn’t a nun, jeez,” she grumbled. “But that school certainly didn’t help. I also experienced a lot in college, and that kind of helped me separate the church from reality, as it is.”

“Yeah? Were you the rebellious preacher’s daughter once daddy’s eyes weren’t on you?” he continued his almost-mocking tone, but she could tell there was no malice hidden in his words.

She rolled her eyes, taking another drag and pausing before answering. “I experimented like any other young adult, I suppose. I definitely feel like a fish out of water being back here, though.” she frowned.

“Mm, I can imagine,” he nodded solemnly, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out in the dirt, flicking the butt away.

Audrina followed its trajectory until it settled on the ground somewhere. She finished hers as well and flicked it away in the same manner. “What about you? How… have you been, after what happened with your dad?” she asked.

Miah took a deep breath, “Better now. I was just a runt back then, so I didn’t have much goin’ for me. Reagan actually found me and took me in. Wouldn’t let me prospect until I was eighteen, though.”

“Prospect? What’s that?”

He glanced at her and smiled, “Right. It’s when you first join a club, like a probationary period. A test trial, if you prefer. Gotta prove your worth and your loyalty to your brothers and all that before you get patched in.”

Audrina took a closer look at his leather jacket, noting the various patches on it, “I’m assuming ‘patched in’ means you get something like that, and you’re official?”

“Yeah. It’s called a cut. We always wear our cuts no matter what,” he explained, and she could hear that hint of pride in his tone.

“You also said ‘brothers’. Is that what you guys are? A brotherhood of sorts?”

“Something like that. It’s hard to explain, but once you’re in the club, you’re in for life. It becomes your life, and the other members, your brothers, are your family. We protect our family, always. We always have each other’s backs,” Miah spoke in a somber tone, and she could tell that this ‘club’ of his was very serious for him.

It made her think of the church again. Always was she making comparisons, but she couldn’t help it. Religion had been her life for so long, and this biker, Miah, was speaking about something that seemed deeper even than the bond the parishioners had with their priest. Almost like a blood oath or something.

Audrina was envious. “It sounds incredible,” her voice was quiet. “That sense of family and loyalty, even if you aren’t actually related… I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

She could feel his brown eyes on her again, watching her. Probably seeing if she was teasing or being mocking. “It is,” he agreed. “Like nothing else.”

She was about to say something else when the old brass bell on top of the church suddenly tolled, its rings clanging out into the still summer heat. It made her flinch and she looked upset that their conversation had to end now.

Together, they stood up and walked back out into the summer sun, now a comfortable warmth rather than a blazing heat on her skin. The door to the church opened and people started leaving, looking red and sweaty and uncomfortable. Audrina crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Miah. “Will I see you again?” she furrowed her brows a little, frowning.

It should have been embarrassing, the almost desperate tone in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. He was like nothing she’d ever seen or experienced before. If anything, he was far more understanding than any of the ‘devout Catholics’ that were currently coming out of their sardine can.

His smile was a warm one, and he reached out to poke her cheek with one of his calloused fingers. “Smile,” he said, and it wasn’t a demand nor a suggestion. “Whatever bad shit is going on, just keep smiling, okay?”

Her breath left her, her blue eyes widening. She could feel her cheeks heat up again. “I…”

Miah reached up to brush his thumb over her eyebrow, where that strawberry birthmark marred her face like a splotch of red paint staining her skin. A mark that her father had said she was kissed by an angel, while Mary Louanne said she was branded by the devil. A mark that she was otherwise self-conscious of until this moment.

“I’ll be around again,” he answered her question, dropping his hand.

“… You promise?” she whispered.

Almost like it was ingrained in her, she could feel her father’s gaze boring into her back, knowing he’d have words for her later. Miah glanced over her shoulder, and she knew who he was looking at without turning around. “Yeah. I promise,” he said softly.

He nodded at her and turned to start walking away. She stood in place and watched him head to the old black Harley that had been parked at the edge of the gravel lot in front of the church. The roar of the motorcycle felt like something ignited inside of her.

“Audrina? Who was that?” her father’s voice sounded huffy and impatient as he strolled up next to her, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Miah turned and shot her a wink before revving his bike and riding away.

“No one important,” she smiled as she lied, knowing she might have just found something—rather, someone—new to put her faith in.

[novella-november]

Want to participate but need smaller goals to work towards, because a monthly goal is a little too intimidating?

Try to write one short story a week, totaling 7.5k words :)

Successfully write four short stories over the month of November, and congrats!

You've now written 30k words in a month!

Despite the name of the event being "Novella November" , the goal here isn't strictly to specifically write an entire Novella -- rather, the goal here is to write 30k words in the month, doing so in consistent little chunks, to train your brain to be able to write as a *task on command* and not just when you've been struck with inspiration!

Your goal over the month of November is not to worry over the quality, reread from the start to edit or make changes -- save all that for later! Open a second document to take notes in, if you want, but your goal is not "perfection ready to publish", your goal is to write consistently, because what you are writing is just your first draft, and its *meant* to not be perfect!

That is what editing later is for,in fact *multiple rounds of editing*, and if I can think of some catchy names, I'll try to make a month themed on editing your first drafts from November, feel free to leave suggestions!

If anyone is interested in further writing challenges, I have another one tentatively titled "Public Domain Day Dash" where on January 1st, you pick a random, brand-new Public Domain short story, read it, brainstorm for one week, and then write 5k words a week for the next three weeks, totalling to a 15k word short story adaption of that brand-new Public Domain work, a kind of Public Domain "Big Bang" event to celebrate all of the new works entering the public consciousness!

[the960writers]

Novella November halftime

And in the blink of several eyes, November is already halfway over. I used the challenge by @novella-november for a new story, hoping it would fight the writer's block on the novel for me. I cannot yet say if this approach was successful.

As we are at the halfway point of 30k, the novella should be at 15k.

It is not.

Not even close. I just got over 3k in the last few days.

I'm not sure why I don't manage to sit down for writing, and even when I sit and write, the words come much slower. I may be procrastinating with social media a little too much. The election week with all its distractions and depression did not help, that's for sure.

Since I won't be able to write over 25k in the remaining half of the month, I reduced the goal to 10k. That's not quite a novella, but I'm happy with a short story, too. As long as I get it done.

[sleepymccoy]

I, as my November writing challenge, commit to writing only original fiction and picking a word count goal. This year I've picked 30k

I'm doing good! It's halfway through and I'm at 20k. Which is good cos I figured I'd drop off a bit as the month went on, and I've left that room for myself

However I really miss my fanfiction :( I was halfway through a really fun dubcony spones fic and I wanna work on it lol. I dunno what to do. Maybe I'll have one night off and do my fanfic... 🫣

[apigeonisapigeon]

My November writing goal is to finish part 2 of Arson and Other Fires. (In other news because I just realized I forgot to say this here: I finished part 1 of AaoF. It's around 30k). Unfortunately I also... don't have that good of an idea of how long part 2 will be? So that's a fun extra challenge

[op-sys-chaos]

For those looking for a November writing challenge that’s NOT NaNoWriMo, may I recommend StoryForge’s 30k in 30 days challenge?

(StoryForge is a new writing platform that’s trying to get small writers published through community effort. It’s a whole thing and it’s awesome. Highly recommend looking into it!)

Basically, the challenge is that you write 30,000 words in 30 days, and you get to join a small group and the more people in the group hit the goal, the more rewards you all get. There’s no day to day word count so it’s ideal for people with busy lives. It’s just the single goal for the whole month.

I’m personally participating and I think it’ll be fun!

[radioregine]

my personal 2nd day of novella november (i officially started my challenge on the 14th bc of schedule/planning issues; goal is 2k/day to hit 30k)

-> 2 separate snippets from today's session [part of the project that im calling either 'lonely machines' or 'sovereign citizens']

(the POV here is not the same as yesterday's -- that one was a building, this one is the water)

From unstable gas to impenetrable solid and now back to malleable liquid freedom. You've grown so much and you want more. You stretch as far as your waters will go which is everywhere, and nowhere all at once. Something more that you need, you crave, you desire. You forcefully shape new things with your waters eroding at everything you can touch but so many of these things are never truly /yours/, in the end. After fending for yourself for so long, you've come to accept that you need help.

Maybe the man that spends so much time watching you is your missing link. Maybe he's the key to your giving birth to something new. After all, he looks upon your surface so often, seeing his reflection. Seeing himself in you.

+++

[context: POV here is my character Z; she and her bf D are grad students and their old middle school teacher is now their mentor after having obtained his doctorate]

-

You think back on the middle school days, the days where you came into a new consciousness not unlike your first mental steps into early childhood. That moment, you assume, everyone has -- the out of body experience, the pop into existence. Like you're there and not there. Almost dissociative. You know you were alive before this point but in the same way man ponders unheard trees falling down in forests -- were you /really/ living? If you can't remember it? That's what starting Mr. Mac's class was like.

D curls up next to you on the couch. Tucks his head under your chin. Remember when we learned he basically started Isla Shannon?

When your hair was long, you say, smirking, and you wouldn't stop fiddling with it and he stopped his fucking story to tell you off. What'd he say? 'You can primp later, pretty boy, I'm teaching.'

D laughs his warm rusty wheelbarrow laugh and you can feel it vibrate through your chest. All I knew was he called me pretty. I was still getting used to boys saying that, so to have a grown ass men tell me that...that shit awakened something in me. Started caring a lot more about history then.

It did something to me too, you say, stroking D's dirty-blond buzzcut. And like... I think part of what made his history class better than every other one is that he was part of making the history, himself.