#I’ve had this in my draft since last Monday but now that some time has passed I think nows time to set it free

[slutnali]

She’s fucking stupid 😭😭😭😭 (I love her)

[woneuntonzz]

hypothesis || smau — c.s, j.wy

➤ chapter 14-A (back to chapters)

highschool senior!san x highschool senior!reader x highschool senior!wooyoung

contains: humor, fluff, a pinch of angst, light cursing, suggestive jokes, highschool au, reader is named & afab

» Hear me out... you should've just told him the first three letters instead of showing it on your phone.

⛦ ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ!

more under the cut .ᐟ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

(ignore all time stamps!!)

\\

You have been waiting for San to arrive for about twenty minutes now, and it would take another swipe on your phone before you heard a car’s honk. 

choi san (girl dinner): i’m outside sab :))

Stepping out of the doorway, San would come out of his car, approaching you. In your hand you held a basket of grapefruits, which he would ask if he could take so he could carry it for you. You’d tell him to just take it since it was meant to be a gift. He leads you to the passenger seat, opening the door for you. You figured he’d probably do that with anyone, so you kept yourself from smiling like an idiot and just got yourself seated. 

Once San had settled himself on the driver’s seat he’d ask you, “Are we good to go?” 

“Yep.” you simply reply, looking straight ahead.

You were anxious, feeling a bit out of place. You didn’t have a reason to be there besides San inviting you. You never even knew about his sister before he talked to you about her. 

“Were you able to get enough sleep last night? you were in the call till three a-m. I fell asleep at twelve, and I woke up when you left the call.” you were in a zoom call with the two last night for the thesis. 

Your teacher had told you to change your topic since it overlapped with another from a different group. So with the night that followed, you were up all night with the two in a call, just searching for topics that concern the Humanities subject, and getting an outline draft started so all you’d have to do is cram everything on Sunday —your teacher had moved the deadline to Monday for your group. 

“Yeah, I feel pretty okay. I’ve had, like, three cups of coffee —and a half.” you sigh towards the end of your utterance. 

“And a half?” he questions, laughing a bit. 

A yawn suddenly escapes your mouth, but you’d shake it off, reminding your body that you’ve had more caffeine than water. “I drank half off my mom’s morning coffee earlier.” 

You felt his eyes glued on you, and you would see his stare from the corner of your eye. You look back at him instinctively, and you’d be met with a face of doubt.

“Are you sure you got some sleep?” you nod profusely at his words.

“Yes, I’m sure. I really am fine, don’t worry about me San.” but then another yawn was evoked from you. 

“You can take a nap on the way to the hospital, make yourself comfortable, if you want, I can fix the back for you so you could lay—”

“No, no need! I’m fine right here.” you give him a hearty smile, and he’d return it with a soft one. 

After the small talk, you were off to the hospital. He had informed you it was a bit further away from where you lived, but very close to his house. That was why you’d tell him a day prior to not bother picking you up, but he insisted anyway saying that he’s the one who wanted you there, so he should be the one to take you there. 

...

\\

You followed closely behind San, stepping into the Intensive Care Unit. There, you saw his sister lying with her eyes closed, barely any movement being caught by your eyes. 

“Hi Haneul, I brought a new friend with me today.” he says with a smile, as if his sister was smiling back at him. 

You glanced at San who had laid his eyes on you once he finished speaking. Now you’re quite unsure of what to say, you’ve never been in a situation such as this one before. Despite your worries, San’s hand rests on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze to provide some assurance, he could tell you were a bit tense. 

“Her name is Sabrina. She’s really nice, and she has a cat too —he’s just as adorable as she is.” he’d be a little more quiet uttering the last few bits of his sentence, but you caught it.

You had no idea if you were successful with appearing indifferent with him calling you adorable —in real life and no longer just through messages, but San would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t see the pink tint on your cheeks. 

You hear a sudden buzz, and it came from the back pocket of San’s pants —his phone. You watched him look at its screen briefly before putting it back where he had drawn it from. “Is it okay if I leave you here with my sister for a sec? I’m just gonna go and fetch Wooyo in the lobby.” you give him a small smile, nodding before he could even finish speaking.

When San went off, you were given a chance to take a better look at San’s sister. She’s just as beautiful as he was. You could guess it just runs in the family. They share very similar features, but his sister possessed softer lines compared to him. 

“Hey sis, what’s up?” you jump a bit from where you stood, hearing the voice you gawked over one late night phone call ago, but now it sounded like how it usually does, making you sigh. “Oh, hi Sabrina.” Wooyoung turns to you and you’d see he was carrying quite a few paper bags with him. “This,” he hands you one, in your favorite color. “—is for you.”

You just wanted to take a peek inside, but he’d stop you. 

“Nah-ah, not until you show me the thing.” your eyes widened, visibly confused with what he was referring to. 

“What thing?” you ask back.

San just watched the two of you, shaking his head whilst he wore a subtle smile.

“The thing I told you I was gonna check today.” Wooyoung crosses his arms over his chest, his feet tapping on the tiled floor. “Does it ring any bells?”

Oh, it rings bells alright. You sigh heavily, closing your eyes and trying your best not to roll your eyes right at him. “You can check later, b. F. F.”

He then displays a cheeky smile. Instead of finding it annoying like you usually would —or should— you’d look down to the ground, fighting the smile that wanted to show itself on your lips. 

“And this one’s for Haneul. Everyone misses you right now…” you watched as Wooyoung continued to speak to Haneul, even at her unresponsive state. 

They were both updating her on the little happening in their lives, getting you involved in some of their stories —though they had to skip some— and urging you to tell Haneul a bit more about you. It was all sweet, and a little sad, still, all you could see was how endearing the two truly are. It was fascinating to see them like this, just talking with Haneul, throwing jokes from time to time, but it was all light-hearted fun. You didn’t expect to gain so much from a hospital visit for someone who you haven’t even talked to at all. 

Later that day, after visiting hours, your trio decided to eat out somewhere —and also ran into one of their other friends, Seonghwa. He was quite nice, but every so often, he and Wooyoung were just talking amongst themselves, especially when Wooyoung had the great idea of taking everyone to the nearby clothing store. He and Seonghwa would be “looking at some clothes” but judging on the way their mouths moved, you could tell the talk was about something else. 

All while that was happening, you stuck by San. He was picking out clothes for himself, asking for your opinion on his choices whenever he’d make one. Then as he looked over some more clothes, he’d initiate conversation. “So when would the playdate therapy be?”

You were a bit surprised by his question, thinking that the “playdate” he snuck into your messages was just a joke. “Oh, you were for real?”

“Of course I am.” he chuckled softly, the sound tickling your ears. “I want Byeol to have a best friend too. You know, like you and Wooyo.”

You chortled, almost breaking into a loud guffaw. “Sorry, I mean, yeah, we can make that happen. You know how to reach me, just text.” you end your sentence with a little tick sounding from your tongue and little finger guns pointing at him. 

He giggles, forcing you to stare on his back as he hides his grin, pretending to be preoccupied with the clothing rack. 

It was a long day of just that, and soon you were all headed home. Seonghwa went his separate way, shaking hands with you before he disappeared —he told you it was necessary. San had set himself up to take you and Wooyo home. There was a bit of bickering with who was gonna take the passenger seat, but in the end, the conflict was settled with San being completely done with the back and forths and demanding the both of you just be seated next to each other at the back. 

There, you sat in silence, paying not much mind to Wooyoung who sat next to you, —surprisingly— remaining quiet as well. San played music to fill the dead air, but it didn’t change much, and you would keep your eyes on the streets, just sightseeing as you propped your head up against the car window. You got bored with it, so you’d whip out your phone, scrolling around whatever app, like always. You were free of worries until you heard a quiet “psst!”.

You already know what you were in for. You bit the insides of your cheek, turning your head just a little and just enough for you to see Wooyoung’s smug face. 

“You have to show me.” you shake your head at him, and he’d furrow his eyebrows, tilting his head to side to question your refusal. 

“I swear I changed it. Cross my heart, hope to die” and now he was the one shaking his head. 

You’d imitate the eagerness on his face, knitting your brows as your lips formed a pout. You had expected for him to roast the living shit out of you and cook you into soup, but the look on your face would be replaced with utter confusion when he started laughing. When your eyes met, he’d only take you along with him, tittering away together. 

Your laughter was a little quieter —for San’s sake— but it was so worth a while that you didn’t even notice how close Wooyoung had moved next to you. “Okay then, if you don’t want to, can I at least see the first three letters?” he whispers, moving just a little closer so you could hear him. 

The way he asked made him sound so innocent that you chuckled, thinking about how silly it is for him to sound like that. “No!” you whisper back to him. 

His smile grew wider, and you’d be perplexed by this. Not until you realized that the tip of your nose was only an inch away from touching. 

“Okay, fine.” you utter out of sheer panic, distancing yourself from him and opening your contacts list on your phone. 

He was quite surprised with you just giving in even though he was only half joking the whole time with asking to see what you had him saved as in your contacts. You’d swiftly move your upper body to face him, preventing him from seeing your phone screen as you held it up to your face, he could only keep his eyes on the brand logo at the back of your phone. Once you’ve found a way to show him without fully revealing it —which was your other hand pressed firmly on the screen to hide the six other letters of the name you saved him as. 

“H-e… a?” he reads the three letters out loud. “Huh...”

Then the car ran into a bump, catching you off guard and causing your phone to drop on his lap. 

“Shit.” you mutter to yourself, snatching your phone away from him. 

“Cute.” to this very moment of you laying on your bed and going back through everything that happened on this day, you still couldn’t figure out what he was calling cute. Was it you? —no you’re not delusional. Or perhaps, maybe it was the fact that when you grabbed for your phone, he got to see the full nickname because you held it out with the screen right at his face for a little longer than just a few seconds. But you wouldn’t know, not until the next day that is. 

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⁀➴ @davinashifts333 @wrotebyrini @wooyoungyeo

[duckprintspress]

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor Terra P. Waters

Another day, another AETHER BEYOND THE BINARY creator to shine the spotlight on!

Before we get to that, just a note: hi, I’m Nina Waters, the lead editor, the person running this campaign, and the one who writes all these blog posts. I’ll be traveling for the next four days (Friday, Jan 12 – Monday, Jan 15) to vend for Duck Prints Press at Arisia in Boston. As a result, I will be slower to answer messages, reply to comments, and post updates (I’m going to try to post one, but I’m not sure I’ll have time). I appreciate your patience while I’m less available. And if by some chance, you’re attending the con, make sure you come and say hi! I’ll be at table D14 in the dealer’s room.

Now, on to Terra…!

About Terra: Terra is a scientist by day who lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. She has been writing fiction as long as she can remember, and has always told her partner of 17 years that if she wasn’t a scientist, she would be an author. During grad school, she discovered fanfiction and immediately began writing her own. After many years and several fandoms (including Teen Wolf, Hawaii Five-0, and Stranger Things), she returned to writing original fiction. To date, she has self-published two novellas in a 90s-nostalgia polyamory comedy series and has drafted two YA/NA sci-fi novels. When not doing science or writing, you can find Terra indulging her yarn addiction and knitting.

Links: Archive of Our Own | Tumblr (pterawaters) | Tumblr (terrapwaters) | Instagram | Bluesky

Terra has previously published one short stories with Duck Prints Press, a Patreon-exclusive entitled The Wayward Timekeeper, and she also wanted to share a few of her works from AO3: 

Kope Kamekona (Hawaii Five-O, Steve McGarrett/Catherine Rollins/Danny Williams)

Forever’s gonna start tonight (Stranger Things, A/B/O, multiple ships and ot3s)

Other Delicacies (Our Flag Means Death, Ed Teach/Stede Bonnet) – this is the piece that Terra used to apply to Duck Prints Press, and several of us reviewers liked it so much that we sought it out and read the whole thing even though we aren’t in the fandom!

An Interview with Terra P. Waters

What motivates you to create?

My love for the ideas!

How did you pick the name you create under?

I’ve been using the name “pterawaters” since 2009, when I joined fanfiction.net. “Ptera” came from an old gaming character I had, “Ptera the Pterrible,” and “Waters” was a last name I really liked the sound of. For my original writing, I decided to go with a more conventional version of the name. I moved the P from the front of my name to the middle initial as an homage to my fannish writing name.

What do you consider to be your strengths as a creator?

My ability to brainstorm scenarios and know how to outline the plot from there. Longer-form works, where I get to dig into the character motivations and development. World building.

What do you consider to be your weaknesses as a creator?

Short stories, creating characters who serve the story I want to tell, adding enough description around the dialog and plot.

When and why did you begin creating?

I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and even took a lot of creative writing classes during college (aside from my science major). I get a lot of joy out of thinking “what if…” and then turning that idea into a story.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I’m most often a planner. I like to outline the story beats of any project before I write. Sometimes, I’ll be more of a plantser. I’ll write 1-2k words of an idea before I do the rest of the outline, so I can see if it’s an idea worth planning out further.

Which of your own creations is your favorite? Why?

I wrote a story called “Entanglement” that was part of a long Stranger Things fanwork series. It’s absolutely my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and I’m excited to get to the point where I can incorporate the rewritten version into my sci-fi series.

What are your favorite tropes?

Polyamory, First times/Getting together, Forced proximity (cuddling for warmth, only one bed), Soulmate AUs, Omegaverse, Fake relationship, Friends to Lovers

What are your favorite snacks and/or drinks to consume while creating?

I like herbal tea, candy, or a crunchy snack like popcorn. I’ve recently gotten into eating roasted lentils, which is a nice substitute for not being able to eat nuts anymore.

What is your “dream project” – the thing you’d see as the culmination of your work as a creator?

I want to finish a series of at least 4 novels and have them all in print.

When you look at your “career” as a creator, what  achievement would you most like to reach – what, if it happened or has  already happened, would/did make you go “now – now I’m a success!”?

I would like to have at least one full-length novel printed and for people to actually buy it!

Tell us about your pet(s).

I have two orange cats, Gadget (the chonk) and Gizmo (anxiety in animal form).

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

Finish the thing. My writing got so much better once I forced myself to finish fan works so I could put them up for other people to read. Practicing the first part of writing a story without practicing how to write the end leaves you never finishing anything.

Terra’s Contribution to Aether Beyond the Binary

Title: Ancient Hearts Unearthed

Tags: academia, alternate history, cancer, character illness (serious), f/nb, f/f (background), fat, first kiss, friends to lovers, getting together, hospital, modern with magic, mystery, non-binary, panic attacks, past tense, phobia (claustrophobia), pining, professor, scientist, third person limited pov

Excerpt:

Victoria turned and ran a hand over the runes again. “What bothers me is that these are early Age of Aether markings. You see the way they’re using archaic forms of our letters?”

Sasha leaned closer. “I’ll be damned. This doesn’t match the bronze-era artifacts in the rest of the cave, either.” They made a tiny humming noise. “Who else would have this much knowledge of ancient runes?”

As Victoria leaned as close as she could to the wall, she asked distractedly, “What do you mean?”

“Obviously, it’s a fake,” they said, mulling over the problem in their head. “Sanderson has wanted my place on the admissions committee since he joined the department.”

“What if it’s not a fake?” Victoria made a tiny, excited noise. “What if this is early Aether Age work? What if this is a secret that’s been buried for almost a thousand years?”

Sasha’s heart swooped at the thought. “We have to find out what that inscription says.”

You've read the interview! You've read the excerpt! Now go back the campaign!

[theoats99]

Bayview's new girl 2; Crush

Summary; It's been close to a month since meeting Simon and Janae, after becoming fast friends with the duo you soon find yourself harboring a crush for Simon. And when Janae tells you Simon has a crush as well your interest is piqued.

Word Count- 2,862

Warnings- None! Simon and Janae being themselves, and fluff with Simon.

Note- I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep writing these fics for Simon, but after the last one I went on straight overdrive man. So I have been literally writing so many for this man. I have like six drafts ;-;. Please enjoy this sequel!

It’s the end of October when it truly hits me, I have a deeply concerning, and quite frankly embarrassing crush on my new best friends, Simon Kelleher. The few weeks since I’d met Simon and Janae have been some of my best, getting to know little by little about the two of them.

Especially with Janae, it took her no time to include me into all of their shenanigans. She told me all about ‘About That’, she’d told me her and Simon started it to get back at all those who looked down on them. And while I can’t find myself helping them with the site I support them both. Recently Janae has been gushing about a girl she likes, her name is Maeve, and Janae is absolutely smitten.

And in return in the month I’d known Simon I’d found myself smitten. I could see why people disliked him at times, sometimes the things he posted on About That were too personal, and not very tasteful. But despite that when Simon and I were alone he was different. We find ourselves talking about the games he’s playing, he offers to show me some of them but without a console at home playing is impossible. We talk about my old school and the issues I had there, mostly with bullying, which is obviously something Simon resonates with.

Janae despite all her ranting about hating romance, and hating stupid declarations has been a nervous wreck all week. Today we’re at Simon’s house, the usual place we choose, in most part due to the size. It was no secret the Kelleher’s lived well, and their house showed that perfectly, his mother was a perfectionist. Everything in the house was neat and in order all the time, it was something I complimented the first time I’d come over.

His mother had thanked me profusely, telling me that ‘they tried so hard to keep it all neat.’. But really they had maids to clean, as Simon had told me later in his room. Currently me and Janae are discussing how she should go about this crush, when Simon just scoffs from where he sits on his computer.

“You could just go up to her and tell her, it’ll be easier than coming up with some mission impossible plan.” He doesn’t even glance back at us when saying it, Janae jokingly flips him off. We’re both on his bed, sprawled out, on a lazy Saturday night.

“That’s not how it works ya know, you're being callous again Simon.” I shoot back at him, saying he was being callous may have been stretching, it’s more like cynical. 

“Yeah? Well how else is she supposed to know unless she’s told?” I laugh at him, he sounds like every guy ever.

“Oh, so if you had a crush on someone you’d just walk right up to them and declare it?” He turns his chair towards us and narrows his eyes at me, and Janae is loving it as she’s losing it with laughter. 

“And what, you would Y/N?” Now I’m narrowing my eyes at him.

“I never said that Simon, but for your information, no I wouldn’t. Honestly I wouldn’t even know where to start.” It’s the truth, out of all the crushes I’ve had, not a single one even noticed me. 

“Well with all your words of support Y/N I’m going to go talk to her at lunch on Monday. So try not to miss me too much at the table you two.” Janae pats my back soothingly, and I just laugh at her antics while Simon shakes his head and goes back to his monitor.

“Wanna know a secret?” Janae is so close to my face our cheeks are touching as she whispers it into my ear. Dying to know what she has hidden away I nod. “Simon has a big fat crush on someone, but he refuses to do anything about it.” As she leans back away from me I see the biggest, smuggest look on her face.

I want to ask her about a thousand more questions, but she jumps off the bed and declares it’s time for her to go home. She ruffles Simon's hair on her way past him and he groans overdramatically.  I just laugh at them, then get to a sitting position on the bed.

“So, Simon.” I pause and he turns over to me in his chair, he raises his eyebrows at me to continue. “Do you have a crush?” His face was expressionless for a few moments, then he turned around again.

“No.” He says quickly, I get up and walk over to him.

“Awfully suspicious sir.” I tease at him, he’s refusing to even turn his head towards me. “Ya know if crime TV has taught me anything, when people get shifty like this, they're usually lying.” 

He stops typing and looks at me finally, I’m leaning on the wall next to his desk. “And? So what if I did have a crush on someone? Why would it matter?” He’s getting defensive, the tone of his voice is sharper now, it makes me flinch.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have prodded that much.” I whisper to him, and he sighs and backs his chair away from the desk.

“No, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have snapped at you.” His apology surprises me more than him snapping.

“I guess it’s just that we are friends Simon, if you had a crush on someone you could tell me, I’d try to help you the best I can with it.” He nods and just keeps staring at me, Simon is always one to analyze every situation. It’s something he’s doing right now, as he rakes his eyes over my entire form. And while yes I would help him with his crush, my own heart is beating away with the possibility that another one of my crushes will never be.

“I know Y/N. And I would tell you, but I don’t have anyone.” And with that the conversation is over. “Get a look at this though, someone put in a tip that the mascot has been taking pictures of the play book and selling it to the other teams.” His smile is downright devious, and I scoot towards him to look at the post and the tip. Sure enough someone has submitted pictures of the mascot doing the deed, and after reading Simon's post I turn my head to tell him it looks good.

But as I go to turn my head I realize just how close we are, so close I can see his adam's apple bob clear as day. I clear my throat and back away, before I do something stupid. 

“It looks really good Simon, I mean it. Very well written.” He smiles at me, and I still haven’t recovered from being that close to him, and the smile he gives me is gorgeous.

“Thanks.” He has a little dust of pink on his cheeks and he turns to post it. A glance at the clock makes me sigh, something he of course notices. “Do you have to go home?” I look back to him, and Simon looks hopeful that I’ll say ‘hell with the rules! I’m staying’. My brother was already concerned about me spending alone time with a boy, no matter how often I told him we were just friends.

“I do have to go, you know my brother will freak if I’m late.” This time he sighs.

“You could tell him you're staying at Janae’s, I’m sure she would corroborate the alibi if you asked.” I laugh at him, he wants me to stay and it warms my whole body up. And as tempting as it is, lying will get me nowhere, all lies eventually come to light.

“No, I have to go, but I’m truly touched you want me to stay.” I playfully put my hands over my chest while laughing. I’m on the other side of his room now, collecting my things and stuffing them in my bag.

“Oh yeah, you're so funny.” He stands up and starts walking towards me, he's about a foot away when he stops. “Okay funny girl, now I have a question. Do you have a crush on anyone?” The question is simple, a big fat yes. But I can’t tell him that, if I tell him I like someone he’d wanna know who, and again I can’t tell him that. So instead I decided to play with him.

“The answer depends.” I state.

“Depends on what?” He asks.

“It depends on what you plan to do with that information.” He steps a little closer, and my breathing hitches.

“I plan on doing nothing with it, if you were to tell me. I promise it will be our secret.” I laugh at him, Simon and secrets don’t go well together.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later, I’ll let the suspense kill you for a while. But I really do need to get home.” He looks disappointed.

“Do you need a ride home, or is your brother picking you up?” This was one of the things about Simon that doesn’t help my crush. Despite being mean or even callous at times, no matter what he checks to see if I have a way home. Not that this is just for me, he also checks with Janae as well. But it still makes me feel fuzzy inside.

“Could you give me a ride? He’s working patrol tonight.” Simon nods and I get my stuff ready, and in just a couple minutes we’re downstairs where we are met with Simon's parents in the kitchen.

“Good evening Mrs.Kelleher, Mr.Kelleher.” His parents are nice, a complete far cry from my own. 

“Hello dear, heading home?” I nod, and Simon says he needs to go get his keys then we’ll go. “Always so kind of him, to offer to give you rides.” 

“Yeah, he can be really nice sometimes.” Simon’s mother is aware of his life, how people see him. When I’d come over for the third time she’d told me how happy she was that he had another friend. She smirks at my joke, then Simon is back and I wave goodbye to them before leaving.

“Did they say anything weird to you?” I know Simon has a difficult relationship with his parents, but his question still confuses me.

“Weird like what?” I say as I buckle myself in.

“I don’t know, just weird parents stuff.” He shrugs and then we’re off. Rides with Simon were something I’d grown to love, the chatter we’d have, or even just the comfortable silence. Today is mostly silent.

“Hey Y/N?” I turn my head to him, his hands are on the wheel and his eyes are glued to the road. “Do you trust me?” He says it quietly, like it was a challenge to say.

“Of course I do Simon.” I don’t even skip a beat before it comes out. And the answer seems to relax him.

“Why won’t you tell me then? I kinda thought it was because you didn’t trust me to keep it to myself.” He’s still hung up on my possible crush.  

“I don’t want to sound mean, Simon, but why do you want to know so badly?” He finally looks over at me.

“I just wanna know who it is, because then I could tell you if it's worth your time. I know a lot about the people in our school, and if you like someone who is horrible then you should know.”

“What if I don’t like anyone?” He shakes his head, he knows something I don’t, it’s written all over his face. 

“Janae told me you did.” We’re at a stoplight, and he takes the chance to turn to me again. “Whoever it is, I just want to protect you.” He sounds serious, more than I'd heard him sound ever since meeting him.

“I’m sorry Simon, it’s just really personal.” I almost want to tell him, get it off my chest, but the moment is over when someone honks behind him and he moves again. My heart is beating about a mile per minute, the look on his face, his voice, it was all putting me into overdrive.

When we arrive at my building he parks, and this time turns off the car, and turns to me. Simon is persistent.

“Janae told me too, ya know. That you have a crush on someone, and yet you sat there and denied it, and I let it go.” I don’t want to sound angry, but I’m getting annoyed with this. Simon is being a hypocrite. “How about this Simon, if you tell me who you like, I’ll tell you who I like.” 

The idea plays on Simon's brain, I can see him considering every option he has before he speaks. “Yeah, let's do it. But I insist, ladies first.” His teasing tone isn’t helping.

“I…” I pause, it’s harder than I thought it would be, especially with him sitting there grinning at me waiting. “I like someone who’s in the same grade as us.”

“That’s not the deal Y/N, and you know it.” He sounds stern now, and it’s also not helping my nerves.

So I take a deep breath before trying again. “I have a crush on..” I open my mouth to say it but it won’t come out, so I look ahead of me out the window instead. If I’m going to ruin my friendship then it’s best I don’t see his face.

“I have a crush on you Simon.” I finally spit it out, and I feel so stupid when the declaration is met with silence. I feel like I’m about to cry, so I open the car door to leave. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have even said anything.” 

Behind me I hear him leave the car and follow me into the building. “Stop Y/N. Just stop for a second.” He grabs me by the arm and turns me to him, and I finally look at him again. His expression is frantic, and he goes to say more but just ends up gaping at me.

I walk to the apartment and he follows again. “Please, just let me come inside and we can talk more. Please Y/N?” The look of desperation on his face is what sells me, so I just nod and let him in. He goes to the couch and sits down.

“Are we gonna talk yet, or have I made enough of a fool out of myself.” He snaps his head to me.

“I have a crush on you.” He comes clean. “And I told Janae when I realized and she’s been teasing me for the last week, and when she told me earlier today that you liked someone too I got scared.” He’s blabbering on, it just keeps coming out. “And all day I was panicking trying to figure something out, how to get who it is from you.” I walk over to him to stop him, I grab his shoulders and that does the job. He looks up at me, and Simon looks terrified. “Were you telling the truth Y/N?"

Simon struggles with his self worth, it’s something I’ve picked up on in the last few weeks. So he buys me and Janae food, and books for me, and even with him giving me rides home. It hurts me that he can’t see how amazing he is, that he doesn’t have to always prove his worth to others.

“Yes, I like you Simon.” His face shifts in seconds, from scared out of his wits, to joy. The smile that spreads over his face is utterly contagious. This time I take the first step, I bring my hands from his shoulders to his face, I gently run my fingers over his cheeks. And relish in the blush that adorns them.

“I like how kind you are to me and Janae, how you always wanna make sure I get home safe. I like how you always want me to proofread your posts before you put them out, how much you trust me with them.” He looks like he’s about to melt away with the praise I throw his way. I move to sit next to him, he just looks at me. “Do you trust me Simon?”

“With my life.” He states quickly, and I laugh a little at him. Which makes him smile.

So I lean in, and he follows my lead, we meet halfway together. The kiss is better than I had imagined, and we stay connected for a second before I pull away, which does not last long before Simon goes to dive back in. This second kiss is continuous, and we both learn in real time how to move with each other, Simon pulls away this time gasping for air. 

“I want to take you on a real date tomorrow, if you want.” The idea that I’d turn him down now is ridiculous. I kiss him again instead with a smile on my lips, and Simon just laughs into it.

[lgbtq-history-museum-cfl-intern]

This week was crunch time!

I have a due date of October 30th (this coming Monday – 3 DAYS!) for a draft of the exhibit layout, and I’ve finally started messing around with design programs this week.

 I’m trying not to feel the pressure too heavily but it’s also inevitable because I’m also learning how to use these design tools, specifically, Adobe InDesign which I haven’t used since Intro to Journalism in 9th grade! That was, like, 14 years ago!

Luckily, it hasn’t changed much and it’s surprisingly intuitive to navigate, at least for the basics of creating text boxes, formatting fonts and paragraphs, and importing images.

I’m also still very new to Canva, which I’ve been using to design visuals like charts, graphs, and infographics.

I know I’ve aged myself now, but honestly, it’s a nod to the fact that I’m reaching an age – or maybe already have -  where I don’t feel as confident dabbling with unfamiliar forms of technology and I have to go out of my way to expose myself to them (even with social media where the stakes are so low, I have no clue how to “stitch” videos or make images that I want to point at as my background.)

So, I’m very proud of myself for overcoming those fears and allowing myself to learn something new!

I was able to complete a rough draft of the first exhibit panel (out of 2) and I’m looking forward to some feedback later today (Friday the 27th).

At this point, I can’t tell if I’m making good time on this or if it makes sense as an exhibit, so the feedback is super important to me.

For visuals, I have been clipping open-access digitized newspapers and having to choose which ones are the most relevant and go best with the exhibit.

So, on top of designing, I have also been curating this week! (A skill I hadn’t considered I was developing until maybe yesterday)

I’ve been having a great time, but I can’t deny that I’m struggling, especially since, as I mentioned above, I don’t know if I’m making good time on this.

Admittedly, I’ve been investing most of my energy into this one project this semester, putting my capstone class in the back seat.

I’m very lucky and grateful for the professor I have for that class, who doesn’t take points off for lateness. This gives me the luxury to put those assignments aside to focus on the exhibit, and I haven’t had to turn anything in late yet.

But this may finally be the week.

However, let me clarify that the workload demand is not actually unmanageable.

This year and this semester have just been personally challenging with trying to balance my health needs and my current mental health journey.

Since this is the last post, I’ll be publishing on ADHD Awareness Month, I want to acknowledge how that has affected me throughout this process (I wouldn’t want future interns to think this is an excessively demanding position!)

One of the things that was made evident to me is that I have a slow processing time which makes learning new things and synthesizing them a bit harder for me.

Even though I underwent testing and was told my results weeks ago, the process of writing out the report can take a few weeks. Then I have to give that report to my psychiatrist to review and then set up an appointment to go over it and discuss treatment plans.

I would need that report for specialized counseling programs that treat adults with a combination of ADHD and Autism spectrum.

So, for now, I am relying on medical studies and articles to educate myself on these things. However, I’m still not undergoing treatment, so the struggles persist. (And even more so with the anticipation weighing me down! Like salvation is so close but won’t seem to arrive on time.)

Regardless, I am working to the best of my capacities and keeping an optimistic outlook and I know I have the support from my mentors, supervisors, and peers to stay motivated and get through this!

Now, here are some clippings that won't be making it to the exhibit1:

Image 1: Davis Reflex Journal, 02/22/1945, pg. 2 - An illustration used to accompany an editorial urging women to prepare for soldiers' return from World War II with financial competence and stability.

Image 2: Fort Worth Star Telegram, 10/20/1950, pg. 26 - Comic portraying a "ditsy" woman waiting for her husband who's leaving for the war. Probably refirring to the Korean War.

Image 3: Fort Worth Star Telegram, 10/20/1950, pg. 26 - A PSA for parents to prioritize their children's needs over routine.

You can find all these on Newspapers.com :)

[letterstoponyo]

09/07/2023

Dear Ponyo,

Hey. So my sem started last Monday. I’ve been chasing around profs to I could maybe get a chance to be in their class because I’m still underload. I’m confirming my slot in my ENSC 11 course tomorrow which should be a breeze because I come at the referral of another prof of the same course. I’m just kinda nervous in case the new prof changes his mind or doesn’t honor the referral of my previous prof. Good news though, my new prof isn’t the prof I had last semester. I do wish he doesn’t pace the class too quickly so I don’t burn myself out.

Dad’s playing games with a friend. So he isn’t talking to me right now. I like it when your dad has other stuff going on, I get to think to myself and do my own thing. Me times have always been important to me.

09/12/23

Dear Ponyo,

Hi baby. Sorry I wasn’t able to finish the draft above in the same day. There was so much going on and I didn’t know what to put first so I just took a nap and when I woke up life took over. Someone I know online had just put their pet cat down and was cremated at the same place you got cremated in. Do you happen to see her there? Maybe try to make friends since she’s new and probably doesn’t know her way yet. Be good to her, which I know you will be. Her dad and your dad are org mates so you can talk about that if you like.

Her death hit way too close to home. Now all I have in mind is how much I miss you and how final your death really is. We may never see you again and I don’t know how to live with that. The world was always wonderful with you, or a version of you in our heads, in it. I don’t know what to do whenever that thin glass separating reality and recollection shatters. It’s almost as if I’d rather live fooling myself that your death isn’t ultimate and someday, somehow, you’ll find your way back to us. That maybe you’re just off vacationing someplace. In your case I prefer imagination over fact. You’re never gone, you’ll come back because of all places that deserve you, you belong to us most.

I miss you Ponyo. Some days dad and I are okay. Days like today, a tear or two would roll down our cheeks. Every day we love and miss you still. Every day there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to bring you back.

There with you always,

Mom and Dad

[sunspray-peak]

Ch. 38: Interviews & Indignities

MONDAY - FALL 22 

After Friday’s storm, the Indian summer had been swift to cool, allowing Fall to once again take the reigns in the last week of its rule. 

Fall had always been Achilles’ favorite season, and he had found it even better out in the countryside where he could cheerfully stomp (in private, of course) on the red and gold leaves littering the cobblestone street with a most satisfying crunch, all while spinning amongst a tantalizing haze of pumpkin spice and apples.

He and Shane had planted quite an impressive little orchard. The trees hadn’t born much fruit this season, but next year… well, according to Shane, there’d be enough apples to satisfy even Pierre’s cravings. 

A pity Achilles would likely have to move. 

He had received two interesting little calls today on his way back from Meteor Elementary. He hadn’t not been expecting them—he knew his worth—but even so, both had gotten back to him much faster than he had anticipated, and the terms of the deals proposed had been a bit of a surprise, even to him. Much to think about… but he had time. 

In the messenger bag by his feet were 18 short stories, the third graders’ completed first drafts, which Achilles was to read this week and provide minor feedback. His own completedfirst draft had been lying untouched in a desk drawer since he finished it last week, whereas the outline for his “real project” was still in the midst of water damage recovery after his swim with Alex. 

His swim with Alex.

Not for the first time since Friday did he relive that afternoon. Alex’s concern. The delicate part of his lips. The firmness of his hands around Achilles’ arms. Something had changed between them that evening—he was sure of it, even as he wasn’t sure what, exactly, “it” was.

Oh, but then again, it was just as likely it had all been in his head. So Alex hadn’t let his hand go… how many times have you done the same thing?

What, is he supposed to read your mind? More likely the man was taking an extra beat to make sure you weren’t going to keel over into the sea, seeing how pathetically fragile he clearly thinks you are.  

Either way, suffice to say, Achilles didn’t dare hope for anything. They were friends. Good friends. That’s all they would ever be. That’s all he should ever want to be. 

And besides. Achilles would likely be moving now, right? 

The thought brought him more pain than pleasure, but he shook off the sharp feeling racing through his gut. This was what he had been hoping for, more or less, right? It’s what he wanted. Or, at least, what he needed… Charge ahead, Achilles. When in doubt, just commit to something. 

He thanked the driver and hopped off the bus to find George waiting under the awning of the bus stop. 

“Young man,” he called with a raised hand. 

“Hi George, good to see you. Everything all right?” 

“Eh. I was waiting for you.” 

“For me?”

“Sent you a note in the mail two days ago, but doesn’t seem like you got it… Damn Lewis. If he put just a penny more of our tax dollars into a better mail system…” 

“Oh yes, for sure, that Lewis…” 

“You seem a bit frazzled. Everything okay there?” 

Frazzled!? 

Achilles hid his mild annoyance with a smile as he skittered to a stop in front of George’s wheelchair.“Really? No, everything’s fine. I just came back from Moonmist, I’ve been assisting Penny at the school.” 

“Huh. Mighty decent of you.” 

“Thank you.” Achilles waited an expectant beat before adding, “Was there something I could help you with, George?” 

“Ack.” The old man hocked a loogie and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, while Achilles smile turned the slightest bit more plasticine. “Oh, yes. Yes, of course… Now I was wondering if you might have any fairy rose on that farm of yours. Fresh ones, not those pathetic little things Pierre has in his shop… Evelyn and my anniversary is tonight, you see, and she loves them.” 

“Oh! Yes, I can go cut some right now if you would like to come with me—”

“And get a rock lodged in my wheelchair? Not likely! You just drop them off at the house, you hear me? Evelyn’s in Zuzu City for the afternoon, so anytime before 6 is fine. Sooner the better, please.” 

“All right—any particular color?” 

“The pink one.” 

“Oh, well, there isn’t really a pink one… there’s a salmon one and one that’s a bit more of a lilac— ”

George interrupted him with an impatient wave of the hand. “Yes, yes, that one. Yoba, your kind and flower colors… like a woman. Pink is pink,” he grumbled, already halfway down the path. 

As much as he wanted to pummel the old man, he chose to ignore George’s jab for Alex’s sake. Not to mention, a bill from Dr. Harvey wouldn’t particularly be the best anniversary gift for Evelyn, now would it? “Your kind”—the fuck was that supposed to mean… 

Instead, Achilles chose to retaliate by taking his sweet, sweet time, hammering out a whole host of chores before finally clipping a nice bouquet of a dozen lilac fairy roses. He returned to the farmhouse to wrap them in a little velvet ribbon he had found in one of the boxes he had yet to unpack, and now probably never would, considering he could be out of the Valley by the end of the year. 

According to his watch, it was 5pm. Perfect. 

Before heading out to Pelican Town, he also made sure to grab a thin, blue folder from his desk— perhaps Alex would be home. His lips tugged at the thought.

Stop that! This is just business. 

Voltaire watched him with a soft mew. 

*****

He knocked on the Mullner’s door but, remembering that George usually chose to ignore visitors, tested the doorknob and, finding it open, softly padded in. 

“George?” 

The old geezer wasn’t in either the living room or the kitchen. 

He went down the hall and rapped on the master bedroom door. 

To his discomfort, Alex appeared, shirtless and gleaming in a sheen of sweat, eyes wide and face flushed red. His hear was unkempt and his shorts were resting quite a bit lower than what Lewis would likely deem appropriate. 

“Oh, shit.” Achilles took a step back, looking wildly at everything except inside his room. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting—”

“Geeze—are those… for me?” 

“What?” Achilles glanced down at the lush bouquet he was holding. “What? No, they’re for George, why in the world would they be for you—” 

“They’re for my grandpa?” 

“To give to your grandma.” 

“Ohhh.” Alex’s shoulders slackened, and he waved Achilles inside the otherwise mercifully empty room, using his left hand to remove the Pear Pods Achilles had failed to notice from his ears and rolling a few dumbbells out of the way with his foot. Exercise, then. Not… other things. 

“Yeah, makes sense, their anniversary is tonight… Yeah, grandpa went out to grab dinner, I think. Gus could deliver, but I think he wants to pick it up himself, you know? He’s real choosy about these sorts of things, has a whole guidebook…” 

He quickly moved some comic books off a chair, gesturing for Achilles to sit down, though Achilles chose to join Dusty on the floor instead. 

“A little reread?” Achilles said, determinedly avoiding Alex’s still-half-naked sweaty figure and glancing at the comics.

“Sort of. You’ll see in a few weeks or so… I have been rereading some other things though.” Alex reached for the nightstand to procure a paperback—The Phantom Phonebooth. “Be proud. I want to read House of the Phoenix before the new season comes out so I don’t have to hear your big mouth blab on and on about the changes they made… chapter books seemed an easier place to start before I try to make my way to the big leagues…” 

He set the book back down and took a seat on the bed before quickly standing again, only to awkwardly sit back down on the duvet. “Sorry, I’m uh, not wearing a shirt. I was, um… working out.” 

“Yeah, I surmised as much.” Achilles turned his gaze to the weights on the floor that were normally stacked neatly on the rack in the corner. “Alex, I had to see you without a shirt on like three days ago. Where was my apology then?” 

Alex ignored the comment. 

“Just some strength training. Helps with swimming and stuff… but hey, what’s up with you, you look frazzled.” 

Yoba, what was with this family? 

“Weird, your grandpa said the exact same thing.” 

“Anything you want to, um, talk about?” 

Alex scooted slightly over on the bed, though Achilles stayed resolutely on the floor with Dusty. He decided to keep it direct.

“So… I got a job offer.” 

“What?”

“A couple, actually. And for the record, I’m not frazzled, I’m actually feeling pretty good about it all.” 

“Look at you!” Alex finally freed himself from his bed’s magnetic pull and joined the two on the floor, where Dusty promptly abandoned Achilles to snuggle in his best friend’s lap. “Where? I didn’t realize you’d even been applying—or no, actually, yeah maybe you did mention it…” 

“Yeah, well, I figured it’s about time I do… something. Lounging about every day on the farm isn’t really a great look, so I’ve been applying to a few places. BRLO got back to me today. Offered me a promotion. And I get to switch accounts, so I won’t have to manage Joja anymore. And then there was another agency I applied to. Better title, though the money isn’t as great, but hey, when’s that ever been a concern. It’s a smaller team. Focuses more on startups. Could be fun.” 

“Oh. Would they both be… back in Hyacinthia then?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And are you going to take them? Or, I guess, one of them?” 

“I… Maybe? Probably? I don’t know. I feel like I should, right? I was good at it. I was useful.” 

Well. Debatable. Advertising is a godforsaken field that shouldn’t exist. 

“That doesn’t matter, you’re good at everything. You hated it.” 

“Did I hate it, though? Or was I just… burnt out. Maybe with a new account, or a new company, I think it could be… fun. Fine.” 

“You told me you hated advertising. From the moment you started.” 

“But did I really ever give it a fair chance?” 

“You spent six years—”

“—at one company, with mostly one account, which I utterly loathed on principle—”

“—are you looking into anything else—”

This was not going the way Achilles wanted at all.

“I was hoping you’d be happy for for me.” It felt childish to say, and more childish still to feel some sense of satisfaction in watching Alex squirm in discomfort. 

“I—I mean, I am, I just… I’ll be… it just seems weird. I didn’t think you’d ever want to go back to that life.” 

“But what am I doing out here, Al? Canning cranberries? Watering some trees? Volunteering at some backwater elementary school? Not really doing much, am I—“

“Well—well, you just finished a book! And you’ve got another one—”

“It’s was a draft, Alex, and it never meant anything.” 

“I just… I think you’ve been a lot happier this season. Though of course, only you know what’s best for you.” Alex’s voice was patient and steady, though the intensity in which he was petting poor Dusty’s head betrayed his frustration—the beagle’s eyelids were really getting yanked back from his skull. “You might not be winning any awards for volunteering at some… backwater elementary school like you were in advertising, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less of a, I don’t know… thing.” 

Oh dear. You’ve offended the kid, now.

“Alex…” Achilles sighed, pinching his nose which had begun to twitch. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been happier here.” 

Have you? 

“And I shouldn’t have called it the backwater, you know I’ve loved the Valley. I’m sorry.

“But I don’t know. I’ve been here three quarters of a year now, and I just… what have I done? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this Fall, and something’s been telling me it’s about time I… live a real life again. One where I feel like I’m actually moving towards something. Maybe that means going back to my old life, maybe it’s advertising, maybe it’s not, but there has to be something… more.” 

“You don’t think you’re living a real life here?” 

“I don’t think I’m living the life I’m supposed to be living here.” 

Alex shook his head, but said nothing. Only continued to pet Dusty in silence.

It was Achilles’ turn to squirm. He sighed, and joined Alex in petting the dog.  

“But I don’t know… They’ve given me quite a bit of time to decide… I suppose I’ll have to sit down and figure things out.”

“Gonna put together a pros and cons list, I’m sure.” 

Achilles lips twitched, and he was grateful to see that Alex’s were doing the same. 

“You know it.” 

“So you’re saying there’s still a chance?” 

Alex had said those words twice before to him. Achilles couldn’t remember the exact context, but he remembered they had been accompanied by the same mischievous twinkle in Alex’s eyes that he was giving now, and had made Achilles laugh. 

Yoba, maybe he shouldn’t leave the Valley—perhaps Alex was right, he had hated advertising, didn’t he? But there were other jobs… he didn’t have to stay in the field… 

Oh, what was he doing. Making a decision based on a man who’d probably forgot about him in two seasons—no, this was Achilles’ decision and his alone, and he knew what was right for him. This was what he wanted. Right? 

But even so. 

“There’s always still a chance. Like I said, there’s a lot I’ve loved about the Valley.” 

Achilles’ hands barely brushed Alex’s as they both gave Dusty’s belly a pat. 

“And of course, things I’ve hated,” Achilles was quick to add. “If I do move out, you can blame Lewis. But who cares about him—speaking of jobs, you never dropped off your job description, you twat.” 

“Huh?” 

Achilles stood and dropped his tote bag on the chair Alex had cleared earlier. “Oh, whoops, also—forgot about these. Here.” He tossed the sweatpants and crewneck he had borrowed when they’d gone swimming to Alex who caught both one-handed.

“Oh geeze, yeah. Ash, I’m really, really sorry again about—“

“Pardon? Did you say something? I thought I heard a noise, but I found it stupendously annoying so I zoned it out. Now get over here.” 

Achilles adjusted the seat and withdrew the dark blue folder from his tote bag, placing it on the desk where the embossed gold foil that spelled out “WORK” could glimmer under the LED lamp. 

“So I brought my resume and some cover letters I’ve written. Also printed some other ones out, since I’ve got a bit of an untraditional career journey. I figured we could use them as a reference.” Achilles opened the folder and began to organize the sheets of heavy paper upon Alex’s desk. “We’ll of course have to make sure we tailor your materials to the job description—you know, once you share the damn thing with me.”

He patted the seven pages he had placed furthest to the right. “And I typed up some interview tips, too—common interview questions, things to keep in mind, dress codes, the like. We can go over it all, and if you want, happy to do some mock interviews with you as well. I always found that helpful, though some people hate it—what was the timeline for all this again?” 

Alex, who was now standing over Achilles’ shoulder, was scrutinizing the neatly typed pages before him. Bulleted lists, bolded headlines, bits of color—and yet it all blended into an overwhelming mass of wriggling letters. Utterly indecipherable, and yet one thing was clear—

“Oh heck. That’s a lot of stuff. I’ve got like… nothing.”

“Nah, you’d be surprised, there’s a lot you can finesse into putting on a resume.” 

“No, I’ve seriously done nothing. Except Orange Grove.” Alex flipped to another resume, eyes squinting as they danced among the lines of text. “Dang, this person had a 3.98 GPA? Geeze, mine was like… 2.5. I’m stupid. I was a terrible student.” 

“Hey, I don’t even a have a college degree!” 

“Ash, shut up, you were a published author by 17.” 

“Hey, don’t forget, I was also a nepo baby. Yeah, I’m sorry, that wasn’t a good comparison…” 

“I’m worthless, Ash.” Alex began to fan himself with the stack of resumes. “How the hell am I going to fill a whole page?”

Achilles yanked the papers from his hands and set them back on the desk. “I promise you, we can fill a page. Now you listen to me here, you are not worthless—”

“What was I thinking—I should just stay an instructor. I’m happy doing that, I don’t need a promotion, and I haven’t told my grandparents yet, what’s the point—”

“Alex—”

“Yoba, maybe my dad was right. How the hell am I going to write a cover letter? I’m never going to amount to anything, am I—“

“Alexander!” Achilles fell just short of slamming his fist against the desk. “I’m sorry, I hope this isn’t inappropriate, but fuck your dad, man. Remember, you’re not doing this to prove something to him. You’re not doing it for your grandparents. You told me you were doing this for you. Because you wanted to. Don’t let him take that want away from you. 

“Trust yourself. And if that’s too hard right now, trust me, your, I don’t know, job hunting guru or whatever the fuck you want to call me. Look, you can do this job, I’ve no doubt about that. You’re qualified. Your skills, your experience, your personality—they’re a perfect match. 

“Resumes, cover letters, interviews—they’re not a reflection of your worth, they’re just these idiotic tools devised to streamline the hiring process. I’m here to teach you how to play the game. They’re nothing to be intimidated by, I promise, you’ll learn everything so fast. 

“Now come on. Grab a seat. We’ve got this.”   

After a long beat, Alex reached over Achilles’ head for the interview tips, giving the first page a once over. Unlike the sample resumes and cover letters, Achilles had typed these bullets in a large, spacious sans serif font, and it seemed to calm him. 

“Thanks, Ash.” Alex set the sheet back down and dragged over a fuzzy dog-shaped ottoman to Achilles’ left. “You know, even if you do end up abandoning me for Hyacinthia… you’re a good friend.” 

The choice of words, though not totally unexpected, cut Achilles like a dull knife. Yoba, what an idiot he’d been to allow himself to think—to believe, even for just a second—that that one silly evening in the water could’ve changed something between them. 

Still, he seamlessly forced a smile, scooting the chair over a smidge to the right to make room for Dusty between them, still keenly aware of Alex’s bare chest just inches away. “You’re not so bad yourself. When you’re not, you know, drowning me in the middle of the Gem Sea.” 

“I think I’m finally beginning to understand that that whole experience is really hurting me a lot more than it ever hurt you…” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve plenty to recover from, too, in my own way… but tell me more about the job…” 

*****

The doorbell rang just as they finished putting together Alex’s first ever resume, which did indeed, as Achilles had promised, fill a whole page. 

“I forgot the key—oi, put a shirt on, boy,” George barked in greeting after Alex, almost glowing in his excitement, and Achilles had raced to the door. “Can’t you see we have a guest?

“And him, no less—” George continued to mutter low under his breath through gritted teeth as he wheeled into the foyer. 

Achilles abruptly turned and, in a strained, slightly raised voice, said, “SORRY, didn’t catch that, what’d you say, George—”

George cut across Achilles to hurl more commands at Alex. “And it’s your grandma’s anniversary! Go put on something nice!” 

“Yes sir.” With an apologetic grimace, Alex hurried back to his bedroom.

“Ahh, you’ve got the roses? Excellent, thank you, young man. Now grab me that vase up there, will you?”

Achilles, still (understandably) disgruntled over George’s mutters, followed the old man into the living room and brought down an orange ceramic vase from the top of a bookshelf. They headed back into the hall to the kitchen, when George abruptly said, “It happened 40 years ago.” 

“Hmm?” Achilles turned from the sink. George sat by the kitchen table, his wrinkled fists stiff in his lap. 

“I was working in the coal mines up in Sunspray. We were near the end of our shift, but there was one last seam that needed to be broken up. I went in there aiming to set off a stick of dynamite, but my foot slipped into a crack and I dropped it…

“The dynamite exploded on impact. The next thing I remember, I was lying in the hospital… and they told me I’d never walk again.” 

Achilles grabbed a coaster from the kitchen counter and set the now-filled vase down next to the bouquet before gently releasing the flowers from the ribbon. “I see.” 

George wheeled closer to him. Probably to make sure he wasn’t doing this wrong, Achilles thought grumpily as he began to arrange the flowers, scissors in hand to trim any stray leaves. 

“You probably figured I was just too old to walk. Well, I’ll have you know that I’d be spryer than a spring chicken if I hadn’t been in that accident. Like that boy of mine—you think he got those skills from his sorry excuse for a father? Bah! Alexander made varsity on the grid ball team his freshman year, you know. An all star quarterback. And was very nearly a professional…” 

George glanced at Achilles’s (admirable, if he could say so himself) handiwork. “You know, I would have never known you were a gay just from looking at you. But then you do certain things…” 

“Pardon?” 

But George continued as if he hadn’t realized the effect his words had had on his guest. “Now… you’ve been very nice to me, young man. I appreciate that. I’m quite surprised to say that I like you, despite your… proclivities.” 

“Proclivities?” All right, that was enough. Three microaggressions in five minutes, that had to be a record. “Listen, George, I’ve got zero problem—”

“How much do I owe you for the flowers?” George cut him off and led him to the door just as Alex came bounding down the hall in slacks and a yellow button down that must’ve been more than a few years old, judging by the strain on the buttons. His hair was gelled back and as Alex slid across the hardwood floors in mismatched socks, Achilles caught the usual distinct smell of oranges. 

Perfect timing. A minute later, and Alex would’ve witnessed Achilles flinging his grandpa out the front door, anniversary be damned. 

Instead, Achilles found himself forcing a grin for the second time today in 1 River Road. “On the house. Please give Evelyn my regards.” 

“Nonsense, nonsense…” George fiddled with his pockets, likely trying to scrounge a few dollars, but Achilles pointedly turned his back and made for Alex. 

“Nice.” Achilles gave the gelled hair a flick. Alex turned red, but it was George’s deep frown that sent a poisonous, satisfying sort of thrill up Achilles’ spine. “You haven’t done that in a while, have you?” 

“Gelled it? No, with all the… you know,” Alex lowered his voice and led Achilles out onto the porch. “Swimming. Didn’t make much sense to keep it up.”

“It’s nice, though. Without it, I mean. I mean, it’s nice with it, too.” 

“Thanks.” Alex glanced at his feet. “And thanks for um… you know. Everything else.” It was hard for him to fully conceal the pride beaming from his wide-toothed grin as  he held up the blue folder that Achilles was leaving behind for him. “We did it! Resume down. And I’ll be sure read the cover letters tonight.”  

“You did it, Al.” 

“Yeah, but with your help. Nothing wrong with giving credit where it’s due… you know, I should probably actually pay you, but you’re going to say no. Hey, you wanna stay for dinner instead?” 

And deal with George for another 3 hours? Not even the promise of Alex’s company could soften that… 

“Nah. Don’t want to crash the anniversary party. I’ve got quite a bit of shit I have to do, anyway…” 

“Yeah, those pros and cons lists won’t write themselves,” Alex said, smiling as his bit his lip. “Though I could probably write it for you. Pro of staying here: ya to hang out with me. Con of staying: ya get to hang with… also me. Chances of drowning increase by ten points. The end.” 

“I’ve got things in my life here outside of you, thanks very much.” Yeah, but he’s a big part of it, don’t kid yourself… But Achilles rolled his eyes all the same for emphasis, for Alex’s benefit. “Hmm, that actually reminds me, though I should chat with Shane, maybe work something out with the farm if I move. I was considering just holding onto it and renting it out instead of selling…” That way, he could always come back. “But anyway… You take care, Al.” 

“You, too.” There was a brief pause as Achilles turned to go before Alex called haltingly to his back, “There’s a difference between wanting to do something and wanting to want it, Ash. Just something to, I don’t know. Keep in mind.”

[madelineariah]

2023/April 14th - Creative

I have been a bit exhausted the last few days.

My sleep schedule got kinda messed up, though this is not entirely out of character for me when I get fixated on a new idea. I decided about a week or two ago that I would try to revitalize my interest in video production. I probably should preface this by saying that I tried running a YouTube channel back in 2020. Probably not the best time to get into it, but it was what it was.

When I did it, I was narrating some of the novels that I have written over the years. Writing is my passion, yet it’s not a compatible medium with many of the passions and interests of most people these days. People want interactive media – it’s why they turn to visual novels or YouTube videos or games to get their reading in.

The videos I made honestly never really felt like they were at their fullest potential. It felt like I didn’t have the proper tools to bring my words to life, and I became very frustrated by the outcome. While I reached 60 subscribers during that time period, I eventually became so bothered by the quality of my own content that I deleted all of it from existence and put the channel on hiatus.

Recently, though, I have had a change of direction in my life. I decided that because racing videogames have been a lifelong hobby of mine, I would like to do highlight videos surrounding my favorite racing games. As such, I’ve spent the last several days prepping videos for a May 1st debut. I have about seven completed already.

What I’ve noticed so far is that because I have better equipment now, that alone has given me more confidence in my abilities. In 2020, I was video editing on a Chromebook (which many of you might not think possible, but I assure you, it is). The videos were serviceable, but they lacked the kind of professional quality that I wanted of them.

Now, though, I have an enterprise-level Windows desktop with an enterprise-level GPU that I was using for CAD applications during my last round of college (see my post about going to college three damn times).

Since my drafting stuff is currently on hiatus, I figure that I should probably get my money’s worth from the machine, and it turns out that it can encode a 10 minute 720p video in about 45 seconds. Not bad. As far as the games, I am recording them on an Xbox One X which I have calibrated to record in 720p because Xbox DVR requires your clips be processed over the cloud, and my internet – while good in terms of download speed – is terrible at upload speed.

I learned recently that Xbox DVR files corrupt very easily. Audio sync issues are also very common. So… Not the best start.

Nonetheless, I do feel like the way I have things set up lends itself to my style of video production. What I’m doing is recording individual races and events in-game and then creating highlight reels from them. Some of these highlight videos have a story to them, even.

The audio sync is easy enough to fix using the video editing software. That said, I have lost a handful of good clips due to file corruption – which led to much sulking.

To prevent myself from going insane, I’m probably only gonna upload twice a week – Monday and Thursday. This gives me 2-3 days between videos to work on each one. So far, I’ve noticed it takes approximately 90 minutes to encode enough clips for a 10 minute video, and then editing takes two to four hours depending on storyboarding, effects used, and also needing to create the thumbnails for each video.

And of course, my videos are going to have overlays that show my channel name and eventually things like a Twitter link, Ko-Fi link, etc. If I ever decide to stream, those same overlays could be used to show stream-related info (I think that’s how it works). But getting that sophisticated is gonna take time, I guess.

For the first month, I figure I will use a compact overlay (just a banner, really). Then after, I will make a full-screen overlay in 1080p with the 720p gameplay footage in windowed mode. That’s the plan, anyway. There’s still so much I need to figure out, and I am doing all of this myself.

I would say that my goal is simply to attract people who love the same things I love and who I can share memories with. Like, as a gamer, I often play alone. I don’t really have “gaming friends.” I’d like that to change.

[winxwannabe]

First 900 words of Roll Here In Our Ashes Chapter 6 under the cut because it’s been too long since I updated and I crave instant gratification

Three hours before they were supposed to be at the main square in Littus, Bloom received a text on her burner phone with an email address and password. She had just gotten back from another shopping trip, and while these clothes were still a far cry from her normal wardrobe, she wouldn’t be tugging her shorts down all night. Baltor had retreated to his own room, and Bloom waited until she heard water running to grab her datapad and log into the account.

It was empty aside from a single message in the drafts folder with several attached, unnamed documents. They were reports, much like the ones the Council had first given her in Magix, on various stars. This grouping was around Solaria, including the second and third suns.

Bloom stared at it in shock, then closed and opened the document again in hopes the numbers were some datapad malfunction. They weren’t.

“What has you in a twist?” Baltor asked in an offhand tone, glancing Bloom’s way as he headed for the kitchen. His hair was wet and he wore no shirt, likely to try and startle her.

She was already too startled to care. “Readouts on stars from Solaria’s system. The Council sent it.”

While Baltor rummaged around for the alcohol of the day Bloom brought the documents up on a holographic readout. He wandered in a minute later, and she watched his eyes scan over the readings, looking confused before going wide with understanding. He set his glass down before going over to rearrange the holo, grouping certain points of data together on one side. “How recent is this?”

“This morning.”

He gave a long sigh. “If these numbers are correct, Solaria’s second sun will fail in -”

“Sixty hours. But there’s been a steady decrease in its output since Monday, so probably less than that.” Bloom leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes. “I don’t suppose you told your higher-ups how to do this?”

“They’re certainly responsible, but I’ve never seen anything like this before. Nor do I know how to do it. When I acquired the Second Sun, I merely used its power to bolster my own. This isn’t redirecting energy. It’s more…snuffing it out.”

“Which could kill the royal family. Radius and Luna and…” Bloom trailed off, too nervous to say the last name out loud. She opened her eyes to look at Baltor. “What happens now?”

It was a stupid thing to ask, and she realized it as soon as the words left her mouth. But instead of mocking her, Baltor waved his hand. The readouts disappeared, allowing Bloom to see him on the other side of the coffee table. He picked up his drink, swirling the dark liquid in the lowball glass. “Now… we are going to get dressed, go down to the main square, and meet with whoever it is we’re supposed to. There is time to fix this.”

God, she was tired of hearing that. Once upon a time people in the Magic Dimension had to sacrifice when evil came to call. It meant working with political opponents, using hoarded resources, and putting the good of the universe ahead of a single planet. Now it was the Winx’s job to fix things. They were the ones who needed to be resourceful, who needed to outsmart the bad guys and save the day. And everyone - from Faragonda to the toddlers who would wave at her in the streets of Magix - expected Bloom to lead them in the right direction. It didn’t matter if she was tired or if the rulers of a planet had called her incompetent, she was expected to save the day with a smile on her face, expecting nothing in return.

There were safeguards for the Suns of Solaria, Bloom knew that. Other planets with similar magic could help sustain the royal family’s powers for at least a few weeks, at no cost to their own world. The Council could force it, if they needed to. But they wouldn’t anymore. It would be her job to fix it. Just like it always was.

“I know.” was all Bloom said.

He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink. “Don’t let this get in your head. As far as these people know, nothing is even in your head right now.”

“Except thoughts of pleasing you?” Bloom gave him a dry smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good.”

Baltor didn’t look like he believed her for a second, but didn’t say anything. Instead he came around the table and held out his hand with the drink in a silent offering. Bloom didn’t think nearly as long as she should have before taking it. She shuddered as the flavor hit her tongue. “Is this…apple infused?”

The disgusted tone earned her a laugh, and a smirk that was a touch playful. “Serves you right for limiting purchases to clothing today. Supplies are running low.”

“Shocking, considering how little you drink.” Bloom handed the glass back and stood, shutting the data pad off. “Now go put a shirt on. It’d be nice to get food before this starts.”

“I think Ayin had a bar menu.” Baltor winked, jumping back before Bloom’s fist could make contact with his shoulder!

“Shirt! Now!”

Baltor disappeared down the hall, and it wasn’t until the bedroom door shut that Bloom realized he had been laughing.

[nhlandotherimagines]

Since When? -Matthew Tkachuk X Fem!Reader

This is approximately 11.2k words of a friends-to-lovers rollercoaster of emotions! I hope you all enjoy! I hope you all enjoy it! @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 @puckbitchesgetmoney @glassdanse @suzukick

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of nudity, implied sexual acts, angst, negative self talk, “unrequited” love, drinking, also some fluff as well. Please let me know if I missed anything!

In case you don’t know: Y/n: your name, Y/l/n: your last name, and Y/n/n: your nickname (can be replaced with your name if you do not have a nickname of course)

flashbacks are in italics :)

———

“Y/n, this is Macy. Macy, this is Y/n.” Matthew introduces you to the blonde girl he’s been talking about for weeks. She is so much prettier than you could have ever imagined. Beautiful blonde hair, flawless tanned skin, and her legs went on for miles. You shake the thoughts from your head a large grin taking over your own face.

“Oh how formal of you Matthew,” you say mockingly. “Please call me Y/n/n, and despite how Matty here is acting you have no reasons to be nervous. He talks about you all the time, I like you already!” You beam with a wink. Matt’s ears and neck burn red in embarrassment, as you and Macy giggle.

“I could say the same about you y/n/n!” Your stomach twists a little at that, what could Matthew possibly have told her? You and him have been friends for years. Best friends. You live across the hall from him now. When you moved to Calgary he insisted you moved into his apartment, but you know he would never take a girl home with you around all the time. If you are being truly honest with yourself, it has more to do with the fact that you don’t want to think about Matthew with other girls.

Yet here you are, standing in front of his new girlfriend, who could be supermodel. “Would you like to get a drink Macy? Let Matthew go talk boring old sports stuff with his jock friends.” Macy giggles at your request, but agrees quickly placing a kiss on Matthew’s cheek.

————

“Thank you for this. Matt’s been really weird about me meeting you, and I was worried you were going to hate me.” Macy’s smile falters a little when she says this, causing you to choke a little on your drink.

“Wow! He must have made me seem like a total bitch! Sounds like him really. I guess he knows I want whoever he’s with to be perfect for him, but he doesn’t understand that as long as he’s happy and that girl isn’t just a gold digger than I’m happy too.” You knock her shoulder playfully with yours, “He seems very happy with you, and for the record I think you’re really cool.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, before Macy speaks again. “So how did you and Matt become friends?”

“It’s a long story, are you sure you want to hear it?” You chuckle, as she nods excitedly.

“Y/n l/n?” The teacher reads out your name.

“Present!” You beam from your spot at the front of the class hand in the air. You hear a few chuckles from behind you, and lower your hand slowly slumping into your chair.

“Matthew Tkachuk?” The teacher continues, after giving you a sympathetic smile.

“That would be me!” His voice causes your eyes to snap to the door. He’s beautiful and chaotic. Bright blue eyes, messy curls, a little smirk, and a cute little dimple to tie it all together.

“Mr. Tkachuk, being late on the first day isn’t the best first impression. Please don’t make a habit of it.” The teacher scolds lightly.

“Sorry, I won’t.” He smiles sheepishly, as he places his backpack on the chair beside yours. “Okay if I sit here?” He looks at you expectantly.

Unable to find your words you nod. He sits down, and smiles at you. “I’m Matthew.” He adds sticking his hand out for you. You take it, face burning red.

“Uh- I’m y/n.” You stutter out. More snickers coming from the seats behind you. Immediately you pull your hand away and stare down at your lap, tears burning your eyes. It was your first day of highschool, and already you weren’t fitting in.

“Well y/n, can I call you y/n/n?” He asks quickly, but doesn’t bother to wait for a response, “Want to eat lunch with me? It being the first day and all I’m trying to make friends. What do you say?”

“Okay.” You reply, and smile up at him. No longer feeling as shy.

So you did eat lunch together that day. And every day after that. You became best friends almost immediately. After a couple weeks, you met his family and fit in well with all of them. Matthew fit just as perfectly in your life. You studied together, you went and watched his games, you did everything together.

It was so easy to be with Matthew, so when he got drafted to the Flames your decision was easy. You immediately applied to the University of Calgary.

“And we’ve been friends forever it feels like.” You smile at her.

“So you guys dated in highschool?” She asks, but it sounds more like a statement than a question. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull at that.

“No way! Matt and I are only friends, that’s all we’ve ever been, and we are both VERY okay with that.” You cringe to yourself at how awkward you sound, trying to convince her what you were saying was true. And it mostly was, aside from the fact that part of you wanted more, and still do.

“Seriously? Not even like one date?” You shake your head, “not one awkward game of spin the bottle?” Again you shake your head, “not even a drunk hookup?” At that you laugh, and take another swig of your drink.

“I’m being honest Macy. The closest to any of that Matt and I ever had was my seventeenth birthday.” You shudder at the memory, “Neither of us enjoyed that.”

Macy’s face lit up at that. “Well now you have to tell me!”

You are standing in front of your bedroom mirror getting ready for your birthday party. People would be showing up in about an hour, your mom is in the kitchen finishing the cake, your dad cleaning the barbecue, your siblings at friends houses, and here you are standing mostly naked in front of the mirror. Admiring the brand new navy blue lingerie set you just bought, your very first set. You feel really sexy, for the first time ever, which at seventeen is a big deal.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been standing there, when the door opens, but you are too zoned out to even notice as you run your fingers along the lace resting on your hips. “Oh fuck!”

As soon as you hear his voice you turn towards the door and do your best to cover your exposed body.

“MATTHEW JESUS CHRIST GET OUT!” You scream at him, tears blurring your vision. He mutters an apology as he quickly exits your room.

You cry for awhile, the embarrassment making you not want to get off your floor. However, you do eventually, and change into the dress your mother bought specifically for your party. It was black, and much more mature than your mother would have ever let you wear before, or maybe it’s because you yourself look more mature. Who knows? All you know is that you don’t want to face Matthew.

It turns out that you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t show up for the party. Brady does though, telling you he isn’t sure what happened, but Matthew isn’t feeling well. You know why though. He was repulsed.

You cry yourself to sleep after everyone leaves. Even going as far as throwing out the set of lingerie, unable to look at it anymore.

You thought you lost him that day. Thankfully though, the following Monday it was like nothing happened. Neither of you bring it up again.

“Wow! He never mentioned it?” She laughs in astonishment.

“Not once! I think he’s forgotten really. It’s not like there was really much to see anyway.” You go back and forth like that all night, sharing stories, buying each other drinks, dancing together. It is perfect.

Across the bar Matthew smiles to himself, watching the two of you getting along so well.

“Dude I told you they’d get along!” Noah Hanifin says slapping a hand over Matthew’s shoulder. He doesn’t hear him come over to where he stood leaning against the bar watching you and Macy dancing together, so it startled him at first.

“I knew they probably would, it’s just if they didn’t,” Matthew stops for a moment staring down at his drink. “I wouldn’t be able to choose.”

“Why would you have to choose?” Noah doesn’t get it, and Matthew isn’t sure the answer really.

“Every time I’ve been seeing a girl they always get weird once they finally meet y/n. Most of them just can’t handle the fact I’m so close to a girl.” He shrugs, and Noah sends him a knowing smile.

“So you’ve never told me, were the two of you ever a thing?” Noah asks, taking a drink of the beer in his hand.

Matthew throws his head back laughing loudly. “Seriously Hanifin? You’ve met the two of us right? We have been friends forever. Nothing else.”

“You’ve never even just hooked up? I don’t know, you two just fit so well together I assumed you would have tried it out at least once.” Noah shrugs.

“No way!” Matthew chuckles awkwardly, wanting the conversation to end.

As the two friends lean against the bar in silence, his eyes fall on you. You’re wearing a cute little black dress similar to the one you’d worn the day he thought he’d lost you.

It is your birthday, and Matthew can’t wait to give you the present he bought you weeks ago. It is a miracle he kept it a secret this long. Sure your party isn’t for another hour or so, but he can at least help everyone get ready. That way he can give you your present sooner, and without the prying eyes of your mutual friends.

So here he was walking up to your front door, the little velvet box tucked inside his backpack. Inside it a beautiful gold necklace, the pendant a simple letter ‘M’. Sure, maybe it was cheesy, but you love cheesy. As for Matthew he loves seeing you happy, and he loves you.

“Hey Matthew honey! Y/n is in her room.” Your mother greets him as he comes through the front door. He exchanges a quick hello and starts up the stairs to your room.

Matthew takes a shaky breath, trying to steady his breathing. His heart is racing, why is he so nervous? He tries to convince himself it is just because he wants you to like the gift and not because he has feelings for you. When he finally pushes open your door though, all of the air he had just tried to hold onto, leaves his body immediately. There you are. Standing in front of your mirror, back to him. Your hair curled loosely, and wearing nothing but a set of navy blue lingerie. Matthew is frozen, unable to speak. His eyes rake over your body, even though he knows it is wrong. You look good. So good in fact, Matthew’s pants have tightened considerably since he stepped through your door.

“Oh fuck!” He groans, eyes widening as he finally realizes the gravity of the situation. He watches you spin around, horror and embarrassment clear on your face.

“MATTHEW JESUS CHRIST GET OUT!” You yell, you sound so angry to Matthew. He is immediately embarrassed. Embarrassed to be caught, but mostly embarrassed by the affect you have on him.

Matthew runs home. He pleads with Brady to just put his name on the gift he is bringing, and to let you know he isn’t feeling well. The truth is, he doesn’t feel well. He is scared. Scared everything has to change. The two of you don’t talk all weekend, but maybe Matthew stalks your Instagram to make sure you have a good birthday.

However, the following Monday the two of you fall back into your normal routine. The incident is never brought up again, aside from in Matthew’s dreams that is.

Matthew shakes his head, trying to physically rid it of the memory. He smiles sadly down at his drink knowing that the necklace he bought you that year now sits safely in a box on the top shelf of his closet. He never got to give it to you.

“What ‘cha thinkin’ ‘bout space cadet?” You grin up at him. He smiles back at you, and throws his arm around your shoulder. Subconsciously he scans the room for Macy. “Chill out Matty she’s in the bathroom. You looking to dip on me already? I mean how can I blame you? If I got to go home with someone THAT hot I’d be leaving as soon as I could.”

“I’m not trying to dip!” He shoots back in defence.

“Okay! Okay! Cool it Chucky! I’m just teasing. I like her a lot! Why were you so worried?” You wrap an arm around his waist as he pulls you tighter into his side.

“Dunno. I guess your opinion is kind of important to me. Wouldn’t wanna displease my sidekick.” He smirks down at you.

“Oh please! If anyone is the sidekick here it’s you Tkachuk! Know your place.” You tease, as Macy finds her way over to the two of you. “He’s getting on my nerves! He’s your problem now. Have fun lovebirds!” You wink at them as you slip away. You need another drink, something hard. You also need someone to take home tonight. So you wouldn’t have to think about Matthew and Macy.

You like her. She is perfect for him, and she makes him happy. That’s what you want. It doesn’t mean you don’t wish it was you.

————

The next morning Matthew makes his way back to his own apartment. He had spent the night at Macy’s, but decides to get home early as his parents and siblings are going to be in town later in the day. When he turns down the hall, he notices the guy leaning against your doorframe. He can’t see you, but he can hear your laugh. “I’ll see you later yeah?” Nathan says leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

“Um sure. Yeah.” You immediately start beating yourself up internally for how awkward that sounded. Sure Nathan is sweet, and last night was great! He just doesn’t feel right.

You say your final goodbyes, and promise to text him later before you close your door. Little do you know, your best friend is waiting in the hallway to greet your new friend. “Fun night fella?” Matthew smirks at him.

His eyes go wide as he realized who exactly it is standing in front of him. Matthew’s ego inflates significantly at how terrified this guy seems. “Uh yeah it was alright.” Nathan manages to stammer out.

“She’s something isn’t she? I’m Matthew.” Matt sticks his hand out for the stranger.

“Nathan, and uh yeah she’s great.” The two continue awkward small talk for a couple seconds longer before Matthew lets himself into your apartment.

“So Michael huh?” Matthew grins over at you. You roll your eyes, taking a long drink of your coffee from where you stand leaning against the counter.

“It’s Nathan, but you knew that smart ass. What about him?” You challenge, slightly annoyed that he had to show up and give you a hard time. Matthew just shrugs walking over to you, pushing himself up onto the counter beside you.

“He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Matty, how the hell would you even know what my type is?” You cross your arms glaring at him.

“He’s skinny, and he is definitely vanilla as all hell. Sure those aren’t bad things, but you and I both know you want a strong man to be in control. Only in the bedroom of course.” He adds with a wink. Your cheeks flame in response, shoving him. He’s exactly right. Nathan was a little scrawny, and not overly confident in the bedroom. Sure he was great, but he wasn’t Matthew. You curse yourself for even thinking about your friend that way. Your best friend that’s all he is.

“Matthew, get out of my apartment. Your family will be here soon, and I need to get ready to see my favourite Tkachuk.” You tease back. He rolls his eyes, but says nothing as he slips from the counter making his way out of your apartment.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the door shuts behind him. You need to start distancing yourself from him before things get out of hand.

————

“Y/N!!!” Brady gathers you up in a hug before you even have the chance to close Matthew’s door.

“Hey Brady” you giggle into his hair. He sets you down after giving you a quick spin, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline.

“How’ve you been bug?” He asks, throwing an arm over your shoulder after you finally shut the door. Him and Matthew have called you the dumb nickname for a long time, and at this point it hardly bothers you. You and Brady were always really close, but it was never the same as you and Matthew. He was more like a brother for you, one you annoy, share all your secrets with (especially if they involved boys), and also gave him a hard time. With Matthew, sure you annoy each other, and share secrets, but you and Matthew were a team. Inseparable. It doesn’t make sense, even to you, but you did love them both.

“Not too bad, trying to keep Mr. Hotshot in check. The usual. Though I’ve had some help recently, so honestly I’ve been a little bored.” You quip loud enough for Matthew to hear. Judging by the look on Matthews face though, he hadn’t missed any of the interaction.

“Oh get a room already would you!” He grumbles rolling his eyes and walking away. You and Brady share a look, and he shrugs to signal he’s just as confused as you.

Brady leads you to the couch, and you sit down. The two of you already deep in conversation, catching up on your lives. Taryn finds her way to the couch soon after joining in on your conversation. “So what’s she like?” Taryn asks after awhile.

“Macy?” You ask, and the two siblings nod at you expectantly. “She’s really great! She’s kind, smart, and not to mention a total bombshell! She is perfect for Matthew, I’m happy for them.” Brady just looks at you with a sad smile.

You want to tell him that it’s the truth, that you actually love her to death. Something stops you though, you’re not sure why, but you stay quiet.

Soon after Macy knocks on the door. Matthew runs to answer it before either of his siblings can even react. When you see her, your heart nearly stops. Once again you are in awe of just how beautiful she is. You stay rooted in your spot on the couch as the Tkachuk family takes turns fawning over her. For the first time ever, you felt out of place. You’ve spent the better part of a decade being that girl, the one the whole family raves about. The family chirping Matthew about what a miracle it was you stuck around. Sure it got old fast, but you loved it. Now you can’t help the jealousy that spreads it’s roots through your heart.

After the dinner, if you could even call delivered Chinese food that, you pull Matthew aside after the others make their way to the living room. “Hey Matt, I’m gonna head home I’m kinda tired.”

“String bean do that much damage Y/n/n?” He smirks down at you, and your face twists a little unable to find the humour in his friendly chirp. Matthew’s smirk quickly falls from his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah ‘m fine Matty. I’m just gonna go okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow yeah? Tell everyone I’m glad I got to see them.” You muster a small smile as you turn towards the door. “You’re not gonna say bye yourself?”

“They’re having fun Matt.” You send him a better smile at that, trying to let him know everything is okay. You feel far from okay though, and you can’t even explain why. “And you should be too! Now get in there before Brady talks Macy into finding someone better!” You give him a playful shove towards the chatter in the living room. Thankfully Matthew chuckles at that, and let’s you go.

He watches you closely as you leave, and he feels guilty. Running through his mind everything that might have made you want to leave. Was it Brady? Was it him?

God it was killing him, and that was evident on his face as he walks into the living room. Brady catching his eye as soon as he did, noticing the frown that Matthew quickly covers with a smile. “Y/n told me to let you know she was heading home for the night, and she was so happy to see you all. Except Brady of course.”

“Awe well I wish you let us know before she left Matt, we hardly see that girl anymore.” Chantal spoke, but Matthew barely heard her. All he could focus on was the glare Brady was sending him. Matthew just shrugs at his brother, his form of silent communication to let Brady know he doesn’t know what he was upset about. Brady responded with his own silent gesture, a head nod in the direction of the kitchen.

As he peels himself from the chair he was seated in, Brady makes his way silently to the kitchen. Matthew follows, hand rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly once the two brothers are finally alone. “Why did she really leave? What did you say to her?” Brady was quick to jump on Matthew with questions, that if he were honest, Matthew was not expecting.

“What the fuck are you talking about? She was tired so she went home.” Matthew throws back, already angry his brother assumes it was his fault.

“It’s Y/n we are talking about! That girl has been around for years, I’ve seen her pass out at our kitchen table on family game night. She’d sooner fall asleep on the couch and spend as much time with us as she could than to just leave. And without saying good bye? Seriously dude what the hell did you say?” Brady was trying to keep his voice down, but he was upset. You were his friend too.

“Nothing! And how could I? She spent all night talking to you! She’s probably just going home to sleep with that idiot Nathan anyway.” Matthew grumbles. Brady freezes at his brothers statement. “Nathan?”

“Yeah some guy she took home from the bar last night.” Matthew explains like it was common knowledge, “he seems like an idiot.”

“Matt are you jealous?” Brady asks, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. Matthew rolls his eyes and groans out loud. “Brady are you stupid? No wait don’t answer that, you are. Y/n is my best friend. She can sleep with whoever she wants whenever she wants. I have a girlfriend.” Matthew’s fists clench at his sides, and Brady’s eyes flicker down to them briefly.

“Well the two of you need to figure your shit out.” Brady adds, turning on his heels and heading back to his spot in the living room. Matthew unclenches his fists, and takes a deep breath before joining the rest of his family again.

———

You sit on your bed, legs tucked under you, leaning back against the headboard. You press Brady’s contact, and watch as the phone rings. You didn’t FaceTime Brady often, but this was necessary. “What’s up bug?” Brady’s smile immediately makes you feel less anxious.

“Well it’s kind of a long story, I’ve been seeing this guy for a couple months now. He’s great, but I don’t really know how to introduce him to Matt without him being weird about it.” You chew your bottom lip anxiously, cheeks warm with embarrassment. It sounds so stupid to say it out loud. Brady’s laughing pulls you out of your spiral. “What’s so funny? Brady I’m serious Matthew makes everything so awkward!”

Finally Brady manages to catch his breath. “Y/n I had basically this exact same conversation about four months ago with Matt. You two are literally impossible! You’re best friends, you just want each other to be happy. As for Nathan-“

“How do you know his name? I never told you that?” Your dumbfounded expression has Brady in hysterics once again. “Matthew.” You groan, finally having pieced it all together. You mumble something about having to go before you end the conversation with Brady. You pull on an old hoodie of Matthew’s that’s slightly too big for you, and quickly make your way to Matthew’s apartment.

You let yourself in, like you always have. Instead of being met by Matt playing video games like you expected, you’re met with a much more horrifying image. Matt has Macy pinned to the couch, and let’s just say they aren’t having a wrestling match. The noise of shock that escapes you alerts the couple of your presence. “Y/n!” Matthew exclaimes quickly crawling off of Macy. He grabs the nearest throw pillow covering his junk with it awkwardly.

After far too long of gaping at the couple you manage to snap out of it, turning back to head for the door again. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t- oh Jesus! Pretend I was never here I’m sorry!” You’re out of his apartment in record time. Collapsing just inside your apartment door, tears stinging your eyes. The embarrassment was overwhelming, how were you supposed to face either of them ever again?

———

“Well fuck!” Matthew groans after the door slams shut behind you. Macy starts giggling from her place on the couch, and Matthew sends her a glare.

“Oh loosen up tough guy! At least you’re even now!” She shoots back wiggling her eyebrows at him. Matthew stands frozen in his place. “What are you talking about?”

“Her 17th birthday Matthew, do you actually not remember that?” Macy let’s out an awkward laugh, as she watches the pain on Matt’s face. “She told you that?” Matthew is angry, and he knows he shouldn’t be. Why would you tell his girlfriend about that when you have never even talked to him about it? He’s your best friend.

Macy just nods, slightly scared to actually admit it out loud. Matthew lets out a small ‘oh.’ before leaving the room. He emerges a few minutes later fully clothed to find Macy gathering her things to leave.

“I’m sorry you don’t have to leave.” Matthew mumbles, but he only half means it. Sure he doesn’t want her to leave, but he needs to talk to you. Needs to make this right.

“Go talk to her Matty, seriously. Figure it out, I’m not sure why it made you so upset that she just walked in here. What did you expect? She always does. Set some boundaries maybe? You’re a grown man Matthew, it’s not my job to play the parent and fix whatever is happening here.” Macy huffs, slamming the door just as hard as you had not long before. Why was everyone so upset with him? First Brady, then you, now Macy too? What was he doing wrong? And why did the get so upset about Macy bringing up your 17th birthday?

Matthew tries not to get caught up in his mind too long. Instead he roots through his closet shelves looking for your birthday present. Sure maybe it was 6 years late, but how else could he make up for the awkward night?

———

You are laying on your living room floor when Matthew lets himself into your apartment. “What are you doing on the floor?” Matthew chuckles, leaning against the wall closest to you.

“‘M not sure.” You mumble, unable to look at him. Instead you study a paint chip directly above you. You hear Matthew set something down before he pushes your coffee table a few feet away. He then drops himself next to you rather ungracefully, tucking an arm behind his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock.” You say quietly, so quietly in fact Matthew almost doesn’t hear it. He does though and he turns his head to face you.

You turn towards him, taking in his features for the first time since he entered your apartment. The sad smile on his face knocks the wind out of you for a moment, as you get lost in his blue eyes. “When have you and I ever knocked? I should’ve put a sock on the door handle.” He chirps back, sealing it with a wink. You laugh lightly at his comment, and turn your gaze back to the paint chip.

The two of you stay like that for awhile. Staring at a paint chip, in total silence. Your thoughts consuming you, as the tension seems to grow thicker by the second. You’re not sure how long passed before Matthew breaks the silence, but it was long enough that it startled you when he does. “At least we are even now. Though I’m pretty sure you got to see a lot more than I did.”

Lifting yourself up onto your forearms you turn to him again, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I thought you’d forgotten. Or maybe you just didn’t want to talk about it with me because you were so angry. I just can’t believe you talked about it with Macy and not me.” He rambles on, but now it was him refusing to look at you. He looks hurt, and your mind races trying to put the pieces together. Then it hits you.

“My birthday.” You say, more to yourself than Matthew, but he nods finally meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry Matt, I just thought if I told her that story it would ease her mind about us. I was too scared to bring it up to you, and then so much time had passed it felt wrong to even talk about it.” Your confession causes Matthew to look even more confused. “Ease her mind? How would that story ease her mind?”

So you tell him. You tell him about how, like everyone else who has met the two of you, Macy assumed something had happened between you. A kiss. A relationship. A hookup. Something. “So I told her the story so she’d understand that even at 17 you were appalled by the sight of me, and how embarrassed I had been. And I told her that was our one and only ‘intimate’ experience.” You make sure to throw air quotes around the term intimate. Your explanation however, did not seem to make Matthew feel better.

“Are you serious? Not once in my life have I ever been ‘appalled’ by your appearance.” He looks extremely offended as he uses air quotes in the most mocking way possible. “Why would you even think that?” You laugh at that, though there is very little humour behind it.

“Matthew, we were 17. I’m not much to look at now, and back then?” You wince at the mere thought of your 17 year old body. “I certainly never had anything like the girls you were into Matty. I’m not stupid it’s okay.” He stares at you now. Mouth open slightly, eyes scanning your face. Waiting, hoping you’d say you were joking. Admit you didn’t see yourself as less than any girl Matthew had ever been with, but you don’t. Instead you stare right back at him, an emotion swimming in your eyes Matthew can’t quite place.

“You really think I ran away because I was grossed out by that whole encounter?” He askes, and you nod. Your eyes dropping to the floor. Matthew lets out a deep laugh, and falls back against the floor again. “Y/n. That is so incredibly far from the truth! I was embarrassed, so embarrassed that I ran the whole way home and locked myself in my room. I then pleaded with Brady to just go without me, and put my name on his gift because I thought you were mad at me. I thought you looked incredible, in fact I don’t think I’ve ever sprung a boner so fast in my life.” Your stomach flutters at his confession. The thought of Matthew thinking about you like that made the want you’d been pushing down for years start to bubble up again. You can’t bring yourself to respond, instead you pick absentmindedly at a loose thread on your shorts. Matthew lets out a loud groan, pulling himself up off the floor entirely.

“Sorry if that made this weird. I hope you understand that you shouldn’t ever compare yourself to any girl. You’re amazing y/n.” You smile up at him and mumble a thank you. It takes everything in you to will away the tears that begin to form in your eyes. “If you don’t believe my story,” Matthew nods to a small box sitting on the coffee table he’d moved earlier. “that is the birthday present I planned to give you that day. It’s the whole reason I walked into your room that day, I wanted you to have it before everyone else showed up.”

With that, Matthew is gone again. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in the small box, wrapped in pink wrapping paper. Poorly wrapped you might add. You stand up grabbing the box and a blanket. Wrapping yourself tightly in the blanket, you fall back against the couch examining the package closely.

After twenty minutes of staring at it, you peel away the pink paper with trembling fingers. The dark velvet box, has a sticky note stuck to the top. As you read it, the tears start to fall steadily.

Happy Birthday! I hope you know just how much you mean to me. Hopefully this gift will mean that you never forget me. Love you bug xx-Matty

The little heart he drew at the end pulls a sob out of you. Contrary to the sobs now wracking your body, a smile forms on your face. Slowly, you flip open the small box. Gasping loudly, the box slips from your grasp as both hands come to your face. Although moments ago you wouldn’t have thought it possible, you cry harder now. The necklace is simply beautiful. The small golden ‘M’ makes your heart soar, and break simultaneously.

Your mind runs in circles now. Had you received the gift on the day you were intended to, would things be different? The gift seems more than platonic. You need to confide in someone. You had no idea who to call. You can’t call Brady, he wouldn’t understand. You most definitely can’t call Macy.

Without even thinking you pick up your phone and press on one contact. The phone rings as you press it to your ear. “Hello?”

“It’s beautiful Matt, but it’s too much I can’t take this.” Your voice is shaking and you hope he can’t hear it. Your heart is racing, mind spinning, and nausea swirls through you.

“Y/n/n, keep it please. I bought it years ago, I can’t return it. You’re still my best friend and I want you to have it. We are still friends...” Matthew pauses for a moment, “right?”

“Of course!” You say trying to fight off the urge to tell him you aren’t. You of course would always be friends, but you don’t want that anymore. You can’t continue being a third wheel. “Actually that’s why I went over earlier. I wanted to invite you and Macy out to dinner. Tomorrow night. With me and my boyfriend. If you’re free of course!”

You couldn’t sound more awkward if you tried, but Matthew agrees. You make plans to meet at your favourite diner the following evening, and then say goodnight.

Matthew doesn’t need to know that you slipped the gold chain on after hanging up. Just like you don’t need to know Matthew was currently canceling plans he had previously made with Macy.

———

“Matthew this is-“ You start to introduce the two men standing in front of you, but Matthew quickly interrupts.

“Nathan I know. Nice to uh- see you again I guess?” Nathan let’s out an awkward chuckle as he shakes Matthews hand. “Anyways!” You say breaking the awkward silence that fills the space around you. “Where is Macy anyway?” You ask, taking your seat at the table. Both guys follow suit, and Matthews gaze finally falls to you.

“She sends her apologies, something came up with work. You’re stuck with just me tonight.” He says, sending a wink in Nathan’s direction.

“Tkachuk I swear to god. Be a pest on the ice all you want, but can we for once have a civil meal?” You glare at him across the table, and Nathan sets a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry babe, he’s just having some fun.” Nathan says reassuringly. You smile at him, but the smile quickly fades when Matthew speaks up again. “Yeah babe, we’re just having fun.” He laughs mockingly.

Dinner continues a lot like that. Back and forth, both men trying to prove something. Nathan trying to prove to Matthew that he isn’t temporary. Matthew trying to prove to Nathan, that Matthew is a constant in your life and can end this in a second if he wanted. Whatever this was. The pair even argue over who would pay the bill. You end up paying it yourself, as you leave the testosterone at the table to battle it out.

Nathan has to get home, as he has work early tomorrow. So of course Matthew takes it upon himself the drive you back home. The ride is silent, and you fiddle with the chain around your neck the whole way. No words are spoken until Matthew puts the car in park. “String bean know you’re wearing my initial?” He smirks, eyes falling to where your hands still tug at the chain.

“What’s your issue with him?” You spit, anger getting the better of you. “I was nothing but accepting of Macy. I befriended her for you Matthew! Why can you not for once just be nice and do this one thing for me?” You don’t wait for his response, instead you throw yourself out of the vehicle. You forego the elevator, choosing instead to take the stairs to get to your apartment as fast as you can. Once there you slam your door, and bang your forehead against the back of the door.

After a moment of just leaning against the inside of the door a small knock sounds from the other side. “Go away.” You grumble, knowing exactly who is on the other side.

“Bug. Please just listen.” He pauses for a moment and you just let out a shaky breath. “I’m scared you’re settling. I want you to be happy, but I get the feeling he’s not it. I’m sorry I was rude, that was a dick move. I just really care about you, and just because I know I could totally take string bean in a fight, doesn’t mean I want to. I know you’re lonely, and you’re feeling like a third wheel. You’re allowed to date Bug, but I want you to be happy and loved. If it’s really string be- Nathan.” He corrects himself, “If it’s really Nathan you want, then great! I’ll apologize to him, and we can move on. But Y/n, I think you and I both know he’s not. Find what you want and go get it. You deserve it.” Tears are flowing silently down your cheeks. Matt is right. Nathan is not what you want, he never will be. It’s Matt, it’s always been Matt.

After a minute or two of trying to compose yourself, you really think about Matthew’s words. Find what you want and go get it. He’s right, how can you ever be happy if you don’t at least try to chase what you want? So with that you fling open your door, ready to run into Matthew’s arms. To tell him how you feel, to tell him that it’s him you want.

As if the world was trying to play a cruel trick on you, it’s not Matt’s arms you’re greeted with. Instead of being held tightly in his warm embrace, you find yourself surrounded by a cold and empty hallway. It’s so quiet, you can practically hear the sound of your heart breaking all over again. You laugh humourlessly at how stupid you feel. You had hoped Matt’s words of encouragement were a sign. A sign that he could see your harboured feelings, and wanted nothing more than for you to act on them.

Matt watches you through the peephole in his apartment door, heart shattering as you shrink back into your apartment. Nothing was fixed. Macy had told him to fix this, but he’d only manage to make it worse.

———

“Why’d you call her that?” Macy presses, moments after her and Matt walk into his apartment. Matthew shrugs, which is not helping the situation. He could just be honest, and tell Macy that he and Brady had always called you bug.

It all started one summer afternoon when you had thrown a total fit after Brady had pointed out a bug had landed in your hair. For months Brady and Matthew would randomly yell ‘BUG!’ while pointing at you to get a reaction. At some point they just started calling you bug. It was stupid and platonic. At least it was for Brady. The way Matthew said it was always different. It gave you butterflies, and Matthew would be lying if he said he didn’t love the pet name.

“It’s just a nickname.” He defends, walking to the kitchen. She follows closely behind him, watching closely as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He leans against the counter taking a long drink, as Macy stands with her arms crossed waiting for more. Matthew was getting frustrated with the whole situation. “Are you seriously upset about me calling her bug?” He asks in disbelief.

Macy shakes her head, laughing humourlessly with a roll of her eyes. “No Matthew. I’m not. It’s a cute little nickname and that’s absolutely fine. It’s the fact that when she’s around you’re different. It’s like you’re scared to stand too close to me, like she might be upset about it. You tiptoe around her, you didn’t even want to tell her about me Matt. Are you ashamed of me?” The emotion evident in Macy’s eyes, is something Matt hasn’t seen from her before. Something he wasn’t expecting.

“Macy, I am not ashamed of you at all. I-it’s just that Y/n has no one in Calgary, and I’ve always been her bestfriend. When I started seeing you I was scared she’d cling to whoever she felt could fill the spot I had to step back from. And she did, and she isn’t happy with him. I’m sorry that you suffered because of it.” He tries to explain, walking to the girl standing in front of him. He grabs her hips and places a kiss to her temple as tears threate to slip down her cheeks.

“I’m your girlfriend Matt. Start acting like it.”

———

“How did it go?” Brady asks, his goofy smile way too close to the screen. He FaceTimed you a few times a month usually. Checking in, on you and Matt both. He knows you had gone to dinner with Matt and Nathan two nights ago now. You know he called looking to say ‘I told you so’, but you know he won’t be able to. This was one time you truly wish he could.

“Uh it. Well, it wasn’t great.” You frown, and Brady’s smile quickly falls as well. “Nathan and I broke up.”

“WHAT!? Do I have to fight a man, because I have done it before and I’ll do it again?” He jokes to lighten the mood that quickly shifted.

“I actually broke up with him...” Brady’s face twists in confusion. Trying to piece together what he’s missing. A week ago you were so stressed out about Matthew not liking this guy, that you didn’t even want them to meet. Now you had broken up with him? Needless to say Brady was baffled. “He wasn’t what I wanted, I was settling.” You mumble a little embarrassed, as you fiddle with the chain that hasn’t left your neck.

“Y/n... you have to move on.” Brady says gently. Certainly not the reaction you were expecting.

“Brady, I’m fine. I broke up with him. I’m over Nathan, honestly there was nothing to get over.” You shake your head, bringing a smile to your face to emphasize the fact you are okay.

“Not Nathan.” Brady sighs shaking his head. It doesn’t make sense, but judging by the serious tone of his voice and the gentle smile. You aren’t going to like where this was going. “You need to get over Matthew.”

The minute the words leave his mouth you want to scream and cry. Tell him he’s wrong, and an asshole for even assuming that. You want to tell him he’s right. To ask him for help. You want to ask him why you have to get over him, and explain that you can’t. You want to ask him so many questions, but only one comes out; “Why have I never been good enough for him Brady?” You’re crying now. No actually, you’re sobbing. You’re inconsolable, and Brady is in Ottawa.

“Y/n it’s not like that.” He doesn’t know how to let you down easy. How can he explain that Matthew loves everything about you, but would never love you the way you love him? How can someone explain that you were exactly what Matthew wants, and that’s why you’ll never be his. Matthew can’t lose you. He can’t wreck what you have. Brady doesn’t know that Matthew used to want you that way. All he knows is that anytime he, Chantal, Taryn, or Keith brought it up Matthew would laugh and say he could never date you. You are his bestfriend. The truth is, Matthew knows he isn’t good enough. Not for you. No one ever will be. You are perfect to him.

“Forget it.” You bark, more aggressively than Brady deserves, but you are hurt. You have never talked to anyone about how you feel about Matthew. Having Brady call you out like that terrifies you. Who else knows? Taryn? Chantal? Does Matthew know? Just the thought of it makes your stomach churn. You immediately end the FaceTime call, not allowing Brady to say anything else.

He tries calling back. You ignore him, just like you ignore the constant stream of texts. He even has Taryn trying to get ahold of you. Of course he does. You shut off your phone, and curl up on your couch. The bad reality tv show playing softly in the background can’t even keep your attention. You instead, stare at the coffee table. It’s still pushed farther to one side of your living room, right where Matt left it. You continue to stare at it, your whole body feeling numb, until finally sleep takes over.

———

Matthew knows something is up as soon as Brady calls him. “What happened Brady?” Matthew asks, concern for you beating out any rational thoughts. He knows how pathetic he sounds, and prays his brother doesn’t pick up on it. As soon as Brady mentions your name, Matthew demands more information, but Brady won’t tell him what happened.

“I’m sure she’s fine Matt, I just upset her and now she won’t answer my calls. Please just check on her and tell her I’m sorry.” Brady says, before abruptly being hung up on. Again.

Matthew quickly makes his way to your door, and lets himself in. Sure he should knock, but he knows if you are upset you likely won’t answer anyway. The sight that meets Matthew when he enters your apartment makes his heart burst. There you are, curled up in a blanket fast asleep, hand clutching the pendant around your neck. He tries his best to stop the feeling in his gut as he realizes how domestic this moment feels.

Matthew gathers you in his arms as gently as he can, and carries you to your bedroom. As he lays you down, you adjust yourself slightly, but it is clear you are out like a light. “You’ll find him bug.” Matt whispers as he places a gentle kiss to your hairline. “The perfect guy is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. You’ll have that big wedding you’ve always wanted, a couple beautiful little babies, and I’ll be there cheering you on. You’re perfect bug, never settle.” Matthew fights back the lump that forms in his throat, as he pushes the hair gently from your face. “I wish it could’ve been me.” He says it so quietly that if you had been awake you still may not have heard him. So he leaves, pushing all those thoughts away and trying to remember that you’ll always be his best friend. Just his best friend.

———

“Well if it isn’t Matthew’s better half!” Mark greets you as you find your way into the backyard. You somehow got an invite to the teams’ end of the season BBQ, and now here you are already getting chirped by the captain.

“Easy there Gio, Matt has a girlfriend now remember?” You joke back with a wink, but you feel a twinge of sadness. You don’t have much time to think about it though, as the captain throws his arm over your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. “I’ve always liked you better though, not sure why he’d pass up on you.” The blush that floods your cheeks makes your whole body feel hot with embarrassment. You know he’s joking, but it does feel good to hear it.

Mark leads you deeper into the yard, as you say hi to everyone. “There she is!” Your head snaps around quickly as you hear Matt’s voice. As soon as your eyes land on him, you notice his are already on you. “Hey Matty!” You greet with a smile as he wraps you in his arms. He smells like sweat and beer, and he refuses to let you out of his grasp. That is until you hear someone clear their throat, and he pulls away awkwardly.

“Macy! How’ve you been?” You greet her with a big smile and pull her into a hug. She responds quietly, and soon after excuses herself to get a drink. You send Matt a questioning look, but he only shrugs and drags you to the beer pong table announcing you are his partner.

That’s how your afternoon goes, beating everyone in beer pong with Matt as your partner. You’re slowly getting tipsy, and subsequently warmer. Peeling your top off, Johnny Gaudreau whistles loudly from across the table. You are wearing a pretty revealing red bikini top, but given the fact you are slightly intoxicated Johnny’s reaction doesn’t bother you. In fact it is welcomed as you send him a wink.

“Hey Gaudreau! How about you stop staring at my friends chest and throw the damn ball?” Matt growls beside you. You bump your hip with his, and furrow your brows at him silently asking if he’s okay. He shakes his head gently in dismissal as he smiles at you.

Macy sits quietly to your left, watching you all play. She watches the way Matt places his hands on your hips to help you get in position. Watches as he lifts you into the air spinning you around after you win a round. Watches as Matthew tries to advert his gaze as you peel your shirt off, his neck turning red, and not because of the hot sun. The straw for Macy was when she seew the emotions on Matt’s face as Johnny hits on you. His entire body tensing, as he grips the edge of the table. Why was he so protective of you? Would Matthew not be happy if two of his best friends dated? It is in that moment that it becomes clear to her. It has nothing to do with him not wanting you to be with Johnny. He wants you to be with him.

———

“Everything okay? You’ve barely said a thing to me all day.” Matt asks when he and Macy finally make it back to his apartment. She sighs loudly, starting to gather anything of hers laying around the apartment.

“You were busy having fun Matt, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. Or anything for that matter.” She responds, though her words only confuse him more. She just sends a soft smile in his direction as she shoves more things into her bag.

“Aren’t you staying?” He asks, a small pout forming on his face. Macy shakes her head, turning toward Matt. Her face is apologetic, but mostly unreadable to Matthew.

“You know you’re in love with her right?” Macy blurts out, and quickly clarifies. “Y/n, you love her.”

“Since when?” Matthew shoots back, way too defensively.

“Since pretty much always. That’s why I’m breaking up with you.” She smiles sadly closing the distance between the two. Placing a small kiss to his cheek, she whispers a small apology.

Matthew opens his mouth to protest, ask her to stay. Tell her she’s wrong, and that he loves her, not you. He can’t though, because it would be a lie. She knows it, and so does he. So he watches as she leaves, an uneasy feeling in his stomach as a single tear falls down his face. What has he done?

———

You decide to take a few summer classes to help make your work load for the upcoming school year a little more manageable. Choosing to stay in Calgary for the summer, instead of traveling back to St. Louis with Matthew to see your family. Matthew tries to convince you to go, but you tell him you can’t. You need some distance from him anyway.

———

It was distance you got. You barely talk to him all summer, and tonight will be the first time you’ve seen him since that night at the BBQ.

“How is Matthew doing?” Elias’ girlfriend Annica asks you, as the two of you take your seats at the home opener. You shrug and sigh taking a sip of your drink. “I don’t know, I’ve barely spoken to him since the BBQ at Gio’s.” You admit, a small frown on your face.

“Wait? Did he not tell you!?” She practically shrieks in your ear. You just give her a confused look, a wide smile stretching across her face. “About him and Macy!”

Immediately your stomach drops. You brace yourself for the announcement. Maybe they’ve moved in together? Got engaged? Having a baby? All of the thoughts make you feel sick, but you smile over at Annica trying to hide your emotions. “No I haven’t spoken to either of them really. What are they finally tying the knot?” You try and joke, but really you’re terrified of the answer. Annica’s face falls slightly. Confusion written all over her face.

“They broke up.” Annica explains in a light tone. Almost as if she was explaining it to a child. “Oh.” Was all you manage to choke out, as Annica watches you. She’s waiting for more of a reaction, but you can only sit in shock. What happened? Why didn’t he tell you? Why did no one tell you?

You can barely sit still through the game, you’re mind is running wild. Why had Matt not talked to you about this? Why had he barely spoken to you at all? Was he okay? Who broke up with who? Why do you care so much? Soon enough though all of your questions will be answered. You are standing next to Annica outside the locker rooms, tapping your foot nervously. She asks if you are okay, and all you can do is nod. Elias makes his way out of the dressing room and over to you. He gives you both a quick hug and you congratulate him on their win. “Matt will be out in a few minutes.” He smiles at you, and you tell the couple to have a good night as they leave. Gio and Johnny both stop to talk to you on their way out.

Johnny hangs back and waits with you. “How was your summer? Finally got a break from the pest I hear.” He teases, leaning against the wall beside you. You smirk up at him, “My summer was great! Significantly quieter than I’m used to, but I enjoyed it. It’s nice to see you again though, how was your summer?” He smiles brightly down at you as he launches into some long story about how crazy his training was. You try to listen, and seem interested, but that becomes significantly harder as Matthew finally comes out of the dressing room.

He is wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt. The top three buttons undone, and his tie just draping loosely around his neck. His hair is damp and falls across his forehead, he is staring at his phone still not having noticed you. He almost walks right past you, but you speak up grabbing his attention. “Any time for your biggest fan hotshot?” His eyes snap up from his phone, a grin replacing his previously shocked expression.

“My biggest fan huh?” He smirks pulling you into a tight hug. You grip onto his suit jacket tightly not wanting to let go as you hum into his chest. “That why you’re wearing that necklace?” He teases and you blush trying to hide your face even further in his chest. “Shut up,” You mumble, “I missed you.” He kisses the top of your head mumbling about missing you too. Johnny clears his throat awkwardly, as you quickly pull away from Matthew.

“Well I’m going to head out now, goodnight you two.” Johnny winks at you as he walks away. You turn back towards Matthew to see him smiling down at you, and your stomach drops. A small frown makes its way onto your face as you remember exactly what you came to talk to Matthew about. “Matt, we need to talk.” His face falls a little bit, but he nods and grabs your hand in his. He starts walking further into the building, and you follow. Eyes trained on your hand in his, heart beating rapidly in your chest. You’re so nervous, that you hardly even realize Matthew is leading you up the steps and into two seats in the top row of the arena. As the two of you sit down, you don’t look at him. Instead you stare down at the ice, now only lit by the emergency lights causing a strange glow. You’ve never seen the arena like this, so quiet and lifeless. Your internal thoughts seem amplified in the silence, but you can’t seem to find the words to say what you’re thinking.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit in silence before Matthew let’s out a sigh, turning towards you. “St. Louis isn’t the same without you.” He says quietly, a sad smile on his face as you finally meet his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Macy?” You blurt out, face heating up in embarrassment once again. Matt stares at you for a moment, before dropping his eyes to his hands that are now fidgeting in his lap.

“I didn’t know what to say.” He mumbles out, playing with his fingers. You shake your head and sigh, pulling your eyes away from the distracting movements of his hands. You decide to examine the ice once again, wrapping your arms across your chest. You’re trying to brace yourself for how badly this might end.

“You didn’t know how to tell your best friend you broke up with your first really serious girlfriend?” Your voice is probably too accusatory, but you’re hurt. How can he keep so much of his life from you? Your mind is running in circles as you wait for a response, attempting to hold yourself tighter.

“Yeah like it’s that easy!” Matthew’s voice is significantly more angry than you are expecting, and your heart rate increases immediately. “I say ‘We broke up.’ And then you ask a million questions about what happened and why, I didn’t know how to say it!”

You look at him now. His eyes are glossy, and his face is red. In anger or embarrassment? Who knows, maybe both. “Matty, I know you really cared about her. It’s not easy to talk about, but if you’re going to move on you have to talk to someone.” You make sure to keep your voice gentle as you speak, “I want to be that person for you Matt, but if I’m not that’s okay. Just please talk to someone, you can’t stay broken forever.”

Matthew laughs at you, but it doesn’t make you feel better. The laugh is humourless, and you can hear the lack of emotion behind it. “That’s the part I can’t explain Y/n, you don’t get it! I’m not broken about it, and I should be! I was in love!” He’s frustrated now, as he runs his hands over his face and through his hair.

“Matthew, it’s okay. People fall out of love all the time!” You place a hand on his bicep to try and sooth him. It seems to work as you feel his muscles relax under your touch. He sighs softly beside you, as he lifts his eyes to meet yours once again.

“I didn’t fall out of love, I’m still in love.” Your brows furrow in confusion, as you search his eyes for any clue about what could be going on inside his head. “Just not with Macy.”

“T-there’s someone else?” You are taken aback, and now your mind is spinning. Did he cheat on Macy? Who is she? Matthew just nods in response. “Have I met her? Oh my god please don’t tell me it’s like one of the WAGs or something!” You are rambling uncontrollably, unable to comprehend what Matthew is trying to say. “Matthew did you cheat on Mac-“ Thankfully he was quick to cut you off.

“It’s you.”

You freeze. Eyes practically popping out of your skull, you open and close your mouth repeatedly. Sure you might look like a fish out of water, but that’s exactly how you feel. You must have misheard what he is saying. Right? The ‘you’ had to be someone else. The look Matthew is giving you right now though, a look of total honesty, a look that is teetering on the edge of disappointment. That look tells you all you need to know. He means you. He is in love with you.

“Since when?” You croak out. Your entire body is trembling with nerves, still terrified he will take it back. Maybe you’re being punked.

Matthew leans closer to you, uncrossing your arms that were still wrapped tightly across your chest. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat as he takes your trembling hands in his. His hands feel different now, softer. They are so much bigger than your own, and you’ve never noticed until now just how right they felt wrapped around your own.

Matthew releases on of your hands, as he brings one to your chin. He tilts your head so you’re looking into his eyes again. “Since always.” He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours. You subconsciously lick your lips, and Matthew takes that as a sign to lean in. His lips hover just above yours, but he doesn’t close the gap.

“Matty-“ you whine quietly, and he smirks in response.

“What’s wrong bug?” He’s teasing you now, and he knows it.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment since the tenth grade, please just kiss me!” Your pleads are finally answered as Matthew finally presses his lips to yours. It’s firm and certain, and intoxicating. Gripping his suit jacket, you pull him closer deepening the kiss even more. Matthew groans against your lips, one hand cradling your neck, the other gripping your hip tightly.

The kiss starts getting more intense, the years of built up tension and pining being shared in this one kiss. Matthew, despite not wanting to stop, pulls away first. Your lips chase his, not wanting the moment to end. Scared that when it does, you’ll wake up. Like this is all a dream. Or even worse, it’ll end, and Matthew tells you he was wrong.

“Easy tiger!” He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. Matthew is positive you’ve never looked so beautiful. You’re lips are pink and swollen, face flushed lightly, and your eyes are big and bright as they look into his.

“Did you mean it?” You ask quietly, “When you said that you loved me, because Matty I can’t do this if you aren’t in. I can’t lose you.” Tears are stinging your eyes now, as your voice cracks with emotion. You can’t lose your best friend, and that has become more clear to you after not being with him all summer.

“I’m not going anywhere, if that’s what you want.” He looks at you hopefully. Your heart is beating so loudly in your chest, you’re almost positive he can hear it.

“Matthew of course this is what I want. I’ve always wanted you.” You pause momentarily, as you see a small smile spread across his face. His dimples now on full display. “I love you Tkachuk. I always have.”

He wastes no time kissing you again. Your hands tangle in his hair that’s still slightly damp, and his hands cup both of your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your lips. You push him back, so you can look at him.

“Why are you apologizing?” You’re confused now, as you immediately begin building your walls back up. You’re waiting now, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know this felt too perfect.

“Because,” he sighs, shoulders slumping under your gaze. “I should have done that so long ago. Instead I let you think you weren’t good enough. I let you go on believing that I didn’t love you. Brady told me about what you said, about not being good enough. I hope you know now that it was never like that. You are, if anything, too good for me. I was scared, and stupid, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Your heart breaks a little for him. You can see the remorse and guilt written all over his face. “Well Matthew. I can accept that apology under one condition.” You say teasingly, running your hand over his shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You take me out on a date.”

Matthew smiles brightly down at you, and places a soft kiss to your forehead. “On one condition.” He whispers, lips still pressed against your skin. “You let me take you out as my girlfriend.”

“Anyone ever told you that you’re just a big sap Tkachuk?” You smirk. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so happy.

“Actually my girlfriend has, just now. She’s kinda cute.” You slap his chest playfully and roll your eyes.

“Take me home Tkachuk.” You announce, pushing yourself to your feet. Matthew copies your actions, adding a little salute to make you laugh. It does the job, and Matthew has you laughing the whole way to his car. As he opens the door for you, you lean into his chest pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“You’re perfect.” Matthew says after the two of you are finally settled in to your respective seats in his car.

“Since when?” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Always.”

[howdywrites]

Chapter Zero

→ an In The Woods Somewhere excerpt

This is from my zero draft of ITWS that won't be in the new draft I'm starting for Camp NaNo. I still thought it would be fun to share since it gives a little insight into Jackie (park ranger main) and a side character named Benny who works under her. NOTE: there is a lot of info in this that's changed as I've outlined so some of the locations will be inaccurate.

Warnings: brief mention of recreational drug use (mushrooms)

Length: 2.3k words

[ WIP Intro ]

Breath burned aching lungs. Boots stomped in slick, dark mud. The icy mist clung to every hair on bare skin and the drumming of heartbeat became the rhythm in which Jackie fell in time with. She jerked, ducking beneath a low hanging branch. Her hair whipped as she cast a worried glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t following her anymore.

A disgruntled skunk and her litter of kits watched her sprint from the home they made in a thicket of bushes. If she had stuck around for just a second longer, Jackie would have paid dearly for her grave mistake. Up on [the mountain], there wasn’t a proper shower to be had at the lookout. In fact, there was almost no running water to be had at all. That’s exactly how she preferred it - being one with nature in every sense of the word.

“Fuck-” A patch of thick mud sent her sliding into the wooden Trail 46 sign that pointed southeast. Jackie held on to it, leaning over with her chest heaving while she caught her breath. A spring of curled hair fell over her forehead from under the brim of her uniform hat. Taking one last deep breath, she swept it back under and ran her hands along her two thick braids to make sure her rubber bands were still attached to the ends.

Static crackled from the radio on her hip. A voice snickered at her from the other end.

“I didn’t know you could run that fast,” the voice teased her, his laughter turning into crackles. Jackie lifted her head and dragged her eyes along the ridge behind her. Ancient trees and wild brush lined the rocky ledge. She squinted, trying to make sense of the map of greens and browns. Despite her year of working in Wyoming, she struggled making out shapes in the woods that weren’t blocky signs. “Surprised you didn’t lose your hat.”

Jackie unhooked her radio and held it up to her mouth. It trilled and went quiet. “Where are you? I swear to god, Benny, if you scare me again you owe me a cone at Marie Bettie’s on Monday.”

She stood there, a hand on her hip and her radio up by her ear. A crease formed between her brows. Birds flit from tree to tree down Trail 42, drawing her eye. Frowning, she didn’t see Benny there. Nor did he respond on the radio. She hesitantly clicked it again. “Benny I’m not playing. Where the hell are you?” She couldn’t hear herself on the other end. Wherever he was hiding, he had turned off his radio so she couldn’t gauge where he was.

Stepping out into the middle of the trail, Jackie circled around like an uneasy horse, feet pressed firmly into the packed dirt. A small creature of amber red and white darted out from a nearby thicket of prickly bushes and skittered across the trail. She gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. While distracted, a pair of hands touched down on her shoulders, fingers curling over her uniform.

Jackie screeched, launching herself forwards out of the grip of the intruder. The ranger hat on her head tipped off, rolling and bouncing off the gravel. Her arms barely caught her in time to save her face from getting superficial scratches. Squirming, she rolled onto her back and scrambled into a squat. Benny stood there, cackling loud enough to send a few birds flying from their nests in the trees. His smile took up most of his face. Smile lines deepend and the prominent gap between his teeth was on full display.

“I got you good, didn’t I?” He leaned in, holding a hand out for her. Despite the adrenaline soaring through her veins and the annoyance that tumbled within her, Jackie sighed and grasped at it for help off the ground. Freckles splattered his sun-kissed skin, his cheekbones turning to apples with his grin.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me two cones, now, Wonderbird. Double scoops.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know volunteers don’t make squat here-” Benny stooped down to pick up her hat, dusting it off for her. It was true. When he first joined the park just six months ago, Jackie had been assigned as his mentor. The junior program was offered to any college students pursuing their line of work. To get a taste of life as a ranger. They didn’t make a salary, but their summers spent in action were funded by park leadership in the form of bunks and food. A far better deal than what was offered to her in Tennessee. She took up her hat and repositioned it proudly on top of her head. “But I guess it’s the least I could do for doing that.” He pointed down at her green trousers.

A small tear cut across her knee, thankfully protecting her skin from being lacerated by her fall. Sighing, Jackie lifted her leg and inspected the hole. “Luckily I brought my sewing kit with me to the tower. C’mon, let’s finish our rounds. Think the captain has extra radios for tonight? Last thing I want is to not be able to contact anyone - especially this weekend.”

The end of summer break brought in the most guests outside of the spring season. Mostly college students looking to get out of town, but not willing to commit to the cost of going to the Bahamas or Miami all the way down south. Jackie couldn’t remember most of the breaks from her college days. She crunched to get through with her degree as fast as possible. Any break she got was filled with studying or working wherever she could. She would have liked to go somewhere tropical and warm for her breaks, but she preferred the serenity that usually came with visiting state parks instead.

“How many people usually camp here during breaks?” Benny kicked a pale gray pebble into the grass alongside the pack dirt walking trail.

“Could be hundreds. Maybe even close to a thousand or more. Really depends.” Earlier that day, they had already received an influx of campers eager to stake their claim on the best spots in the park before the hoards arrived. Easily several dozen of them, all scattered between RV hookups, the rentable cabins and clearings for tents. “Just be glad you’re not working at any of the offices this weekend. I’d take firewatch over disgruntled campers any day.”

“I can’t thank you enough, you know.” An elbow bumped Jackie’s arm and she glanced at the grinning young man. “If it weren’t for you, Richards probably would’ve never let me take over tower 24. He told me you put in a good word for me.”

Smiling down at the ground, Jackie shrugged and reached out to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It wasn’t all me. You’ve got the passion for this. The drive. Can’t say the same for some of the other volunteers-”

A trill of squealing laughter caught her attention. The two of them paused right at the fork. One path remained wide open with wooden signs encouraging guests to stay on the correct path. The other had overgrowth and a dirt path so narrow, one could hardly call it a trail at all. The usual rope gate meant to block it off had been cut. Both ends laid useless on the ground with frayed edges. Another bark of laughter came from the end it shouldn’t have.

“Damn…” Jackie muttered bitterly under her breath. Just when she thought they could wrap up for the afternoon. Benny puffed out his chest and stood up taller.

“C’mon, ranger,” he chirped, marching towards the rocky side path. “No dilly dallying!”

“You just want to write up a citation.” She snorted and followed alongside him. “You’re starting to sound like the captain.”

Snaking down the path, the trees overhead grew thicker and wider. Branches from lowly pines scraped against their arms. Creatures that remained unseen skittered into their hiding places. The closer they got to the three or four voices chattering away up ahead, the more signs they saw. Brand new, the signs were nailed into the untouched bark of the trees along the path or plastered on wooden signs hammered into the thick dirt.

WARNING: do not proceed! This area has been sanctioned for investigation by the State of Wyoming and local police. Any violations will result in a $500 fine.

“Have these signs always been here?” Benny’s voice lowered to a faint whisper. Jackie stepped carefully around a pile of stones gathered around the base of a thick oak. Her boots slid against their jagged surfaces. “I don’t remember them putting these up.

“I don’t either. I remember some feds were here on Wednesday, but they weren’t up for much small talk.” They stood proudly in their dark suits and shade, holding boxes of flyers and paperwork and speaking in hushed tones to her higher ups. The single chance she had to greet one of them was met with silence. Very rude. “I don’t think this was a missing person’s case, otherwise we would have been informed about it.”

Like something out of a sci-fi movie, bright yellow caution signs littered a shady grove at the end of the short path. The sound of water trickling from a nearby stream joined the quiet voices. The blocky lettering on the big yellow signs yelled at them.

DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! Do not disturb local flora as issued by the governor of Wyoming.

“Dude! You’re going to get us in trouble!” A nervous voice murmured beyond the trees. There, by the creek, four college aged kids stood around a mossy puddle. Two girls and two boys, all wearing their UW school colors. Most likely freshmen given their wide eyes and round faces. One of them stood with his jeans rolled up to his knees in the shallow water, a fist full of curling brown mushrooms that looked like kelp. They went silent at the sight of the two rangers.

“This path is restricted.” Benny took the initiative, his voice wavering just a bit at the end of his statement. Jackie let him take the reins. If he really wanted to do this for a living, he would have to get used to this. As he went over what rules they broke being there, she made her way over to a damp patch of tall grass between two moss covered trees.

Squatting, she spied even more kelp-like mushrooms. They stuck out of the grass like limp, decaying fingers out of a grave. Jackie narrowed her eyes and used a pen from her breast pocket to jab at it with as gentle of a touch as she could manage. It released a pussy substance and a musky scent that reminded her of the single frat party she attended her last year in school. Similar to weed, but different. From looks alone, she couldn’t nail down from which family this fungus derived from. In fact, she couldn’t recall anything remotely similar in all her years of study.

“You can’t do that.” The kid in the water whined, trudging out of the water. He tossed the picked mushrooms. “C’mon, man, we’re just trying to have a little fun! I gotta pay for books next week!”

Jackie looked over her shoulder in time to see Benny’s head fall like a disappointed teacher’s. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to reply. Tucking her pen back into its spot, she dusted her hands off and stood.

“Here’s what we’re going to do-” She put her hands on her hips and took over for him. She spoke with authority and a rigid stance. “I’ll let you off with a warning, as long as you four keep to the official trails and stay out of trouble. If me or any of my associates catch you out of bounds again, it’ll be a $700 ticket. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The kid slipped his wet feet into his Nike sandals and hung his head. Blonde hair stuck to his pink face and despite his towering height over her, he still looked like a boy. It only made her feel older than she was. The other three murmured in agreement, following behind him. She watched them shuffle up the path until they disappeared behind a thicket of pines.

“I thought I could do it,” Benny sighed, his head swiveling side to side, checking for litter or anything else the rowdy guests may have left behind. Jackie moved to stand beside him and ruffled his mess of red hair. The way his nose scrunched and his shoulders relaxed from the playful exchange reminded her so much of Andre back at home.

“You did better than I did the first time I tried writing a citation - I cried.” Her sidekick blinked, surprised, and chuckled.

“But you’re so good at it. You’ve got a mom voice - in a good way, I mean.”

“Geez, I’m not that old, Wonderbird. First them, and now you? I’m aging by the second. You’ll have to explain to Richards why my knees are bad and my hair is graying when summer’s over, you dingus.”

Benny all but collapsed forward with laughter, holding his stomach and slapping his knee like a cheery grandfather. Jackie smiled so wide her cheeks ached. She had to avert her gaze to not let the homesickness creep in. She would miss him when he had to go back to school. Just like she missed Andre.

The mushrooms among the grass piqued her curiosity again. She stooped down beside them and inspected them without touching. Who knew what they did and who knew why the government and college kids were so interested in them.

“What are they? They were grabbing a lot of them.” Benny squatted next to her, reaching out to touch one. Jackie gently smacked the back of his hand and shook her head.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t touch them. Let’s get to the office, the captain’s waiting for us by now.”

-

ITWS Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @lordkingsmith @celestialbunnistories @aeslin-writes @writinginslowmotion @chayscribbles @theramwrites @tiredlittleoldme @sapphcon-ic @hazard-writes @lookingmuchimproved @themidnxghtwriter @draculinawrites @aetherwrites @svpphicwrites @maxgraybooks @writeherewaiting @sjjsalamanders @thelittlestspider @ashen-crest @writtendevastation @ravesthewriter @adie-dee @christine-thinks @cream-and-tea @reeseweston

[duckprintspress]

How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours. 

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time. 

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten. 

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed. 

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!) 

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow. 

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

[ionalottabookmarks]

For the 500ish word dvd commentary ask game :). This is from crooked arrows flown true ch65

———

When Roy gets back from his first time at the archery club, Ollie is on the couch, watching TV. He switches it off when he sees Roy.

“How was it?”

Roy shrugs. “Okay, except it’s basically a Green Arrow fan club.”

“So they have good taste.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to spend forty minutes listening to people crush on your secret dad?”

“Your secret dad?” Ollie repeats.

“If you didn’t have a secret identity, I could tell them to shut up without being weird.”

“I’m so sorry my world-saving heroics are complicating your social life.” He’s smiling, probably because Roy just called him his dad. Roy’s still not totally sure he’s on board with the Ollie and Dinah as parents thing, but his first thought when some girl started talking about how hot Green Arrow is was “Ew, that’s my dad,” so. Maybe he’s more on board than he thought.

“Anyway, it was fun. They were all pretty good. It was much better than NA on Monday.” Although probably NA isn’t actually supposed to be fun. “Where’s Dinah?”

“In the office, working on a project. She’ll probably want to hear about the archery club.”

“Okay, I’ll find her.”

Dinah’s at her desk, which is a few feet from Ollie’s and usually covered in random crap—she doesn’t use her desk much. She likes to work in the kitchen or the living room, but Ollie is currently in the living room watching a show she hates, and the dish situation is pretty bad right now. It might be Roy’s turn to wash the dishes, but in his defense, the dishwasher broke the other day and they can’t get it fixed until tomorrow. Also, the night before last was Ollie’s turn and he got interrupted by an emergency downtown and never finished. Anyway. The kitchen isn’t a super fun place to be right now. Very messy. He’ll get to it soon.

Roy sits down in Ollie’s chair and rolls it over. “What are you working on?”

Dinah looks up from her computer, where she has several photos of the three of them pulled up. “I’m making Christmas cards.”

“Christmas cards? It’s November twelfth.”

“If you wait until mid-December to start Christmas cards, you’ll be distracted by a series of alien invasions and forget to send them out until February, and you can’t explain that you have a totally legitimate reason for being insanely late, and your cousins will mock you endlessly. Also, you’re going to be on the card this year, and you are extremely particular about photos of yourself.”

Well, that’s fair. “So I have a say in this?”

“Sure. Look at pictures with me. We’ve got a lot from the road trip—Hal took some good ones.”

“So you’re going to send Christmas cards to your cousins, who don’t know about Black Canary.”

“Yeah.”

“Who will probably notice that I’m not actually also your cousin? Since, you know, they’ve never heard of me?”

Okay, first of all I’m going to be honest and tell you I’ve never actually watched a DVD commentary. So, like, don’t go into this with high expectations.

For the opening of the chapter, I just wanted to have a way for Roy to acknowledge he thought of Ollie as a dad that wasn’t, like, really intense or emotional. Also, I figure that in a city with an archery-themed superhero, any other local archers are bound to have strong feelings about him.

Ollie is so excited that Roy basically just called him dad, but he’s trying to be cool about it.

I spent way too long talking about dirty dishes. I actually cut out at least a couple sentences before posting. I wanted two separate conversations, one with Ollie and one with Dinah, just because my cast was so large at this point and I was really sick of trying to juggle dialogue between so many people at once. (I think there was also an earlier draft where they were all in the room together for both of these conversations.) But then I felt like I had to, like, justify Dinah and Ollie being in two separate rooms? Idk. I remember working forever on this little transition between the two conversations.

I’m not sure exactly what tv show Ollie’s watching that Dinah hates, but it’s definitely one of those awful reality shows my dad watches sometimes. Like, I dunno. Maybe the one about those guys making moonshine, or one of the several different ones where they’re searching for Bigfoot. My dad loves Bigfoot shows. They drive me crazy.

My mom is always late with Christmas cards. Always. It’s so bad. I think one time she sent them out in April? So that’s the inspiration for Dinah’s Christmas card situation here, except that my mom’s delays have, to the best of my knowledge, never been alien-invasion related. For a few years I took over most of the Christmas card project, both because I was more efficient and because, like Roy, I was really particular about the photos of myself that she was sending out to everybody. I chose the photos, designed the cards, and placed the order with the printer; my mom addressed the envelopes and usually wrote some little personal message in each card, which still took *forever.* I don’t help much with the cards now that I live an hour and a half away, but I still have veto power on the photos.

It was after I’d written that whole bit that it occurred to me Dinah’s old friends and extended family should probably eventually be informed she had a son now. This was also when I decided they would go see Dinah’s extended family for Christmas. Which was really fun, even if we didn’t exactly get to meet them. I mostly write Batman, who has a large family consisting mostly of his own children (though I really enjoyed writing Kate in this series!), and that’s fun, but not something that reflects my own experiences at all? I have one brother. But our family gatherings are a huge mess of cousins (first through at least fourth, removed various times), aunts and uncles, step aunts and uncles, people who used to be married into the family and still come to things for different reasons (some welcome, some not), people who live in various relatives’ basements, new and inappropriately-aged girlfriends of cousins, my aunt’s neighbors, my aunt’s in-laws, my cousin’s best friend, etc. And I liked the idea of giving Dinah a big family, even if we didn’t really see them. I really liked her parents being around, even though I actually felt really uncomfortable writing them in almost every scene, just because I’m not all that familiar with them.

(The Arrows in general ended up having more stuff that was, like, more personal - several pieces of the camping scene came directly out of my own experiences.)

I think that’s everything I can thing of. No awful puns, sorry.

Also sorry if the formatting is weird? The paragraph spacing keeps glitching.

Btw, the ask game:

[pamgkrthwrites]

Flame of Healing | EsaerMic x Reader | Chapter 4 - Arms

Masterlist | AO3

Warnings: Time skip, major cuts, Soulmate AU, Large age gap mention, slight gore(broken bones), mention of death, mention of lost virginity, mention of running away, denying of grief, grief avoidance, a slow chapter. 

Word Count: 2028

Taglist: @stargazingaloneatnight

A/N: I have lesbian plans for Ms Joke, I’ll say that now. I was going to mention this new law in the last chapter but I decided to mention in passing here because we needed to focus more on Oboro. His death will be a big deal for all these three soulmate babies.  Also, I really do not want to write a first time, so it is canon that reader has had a couple of relationships and hookups. ALSO ALSO, the group mention will also play a big part. This is the chapter to foreshadow A BUNCH of shit. Hope you all enjoy.

It had been 4 years since Oboro’s death, 3 years since you finished school and 2 years since you started working for hero agency as a nurse. 

You had been hurting ever since you were told Oboro died. You might not have talked to him in that last year of his life, but that made it worse for you. His was your best friend throughout middle school, and no one was going to replace him. 

You hadn’t bumped into your soulmates since that day in the street either. You heard about Hizashi all the time though. He was very loud and hard to take your eyes from whenever he was on TV. Shouta never appeared on TV though. 

You were all turning 21 this year, which meant only one thing.

Soulmate reveal.

It was a law that passed a year ago in response to people unable to find their soulmate. Your name, soulmates names, quirks, family, job, date of birth, address and a picture of you were on a database. Once the youngest soulmate turned 21, the information on you would be released to the other party. 

The guy who wrote the final draft choice the age 21 because he got his soulmate’s name at 21, but justified as ‘Well what if they want to go out drinking? The age to drink is 21.’ 

America was the country who made it and other countries started to follow suit so that cross country soulmates could still meet. 

This somehow opened up a question most had ignored until now. 

What if someone didn’t want to meet their soulmate or didn’t want to date them?

The Anti-Soulmate movement had grown, and you were apart of the group. The local group would meet once a week and would talk about a wild range of things. A lot of people got up and confessed they met someone before meeting their soulmate and love them instead. Some revealed their age gap with their soulmate grossed them out. Some revealed they had no knows, and didn’t want to be told that they couldn’t love anyone. 

And somehow it turned into a dating hub.

You knew you were being watched, but no one knew your true name. You once again gave up your middle name when meeting people in the group. You had joined in your last year of school and had been dating and doing hookups since. 

You were watching the news, the morning of the 5th of July. The news was talking about the celebration in America about the 4th of July. Then, Hizashi came on.

Your heart sank when you saw his face, heard him speak. His was a public figure so his birthday was already revealed to be in 2 days. 

“Hello, Japan!” He greeted with a wide smile on his face. “America has been going crazy with their party, which I will be able to relate to in a couple of days!” He laughed.

The news anchor smiled. “Yes, I heard your 21st is in two days! Are you excited to meet your soulmate?”

Mic awkwardly laughed. “Funny thing! I met one of my soulmates in UA!” Mic looked at the camera. “Hey Shouta, baby!”

You chuckled, he was a drama queen. He loved the camera, he even started his own podcast.

Even though you didn’t want to meet them, you didn’t move, did legally change your name, and listened in to Hizashi whenever you could. 

“He is the youngest out of us two, but we don’t know if he is the youngest in our soulmates.”

Unlike you, Hizashi became open about his soulmate status, probably to get your attention. Everyone knew he had two names, and he was the most vocal about it. He surprisingly cleared up a lot of horrible rumours about 2 name soulmates and there hadn’t been any slander on them since. 

Well, to your knowledge, you still covered their names up.

“And when is Shouta birthday, Mic?”

You breathed in. You were on the edge of your seat, you needed to know your timeframe to move out of the city.

He smiled. “November 8th.”

4 months, you could move countries in 4 months, right?

---

“Good morning Miss L/N!” Smiled Ms Joke at you as she walked into the building behind you.

You smiled back in return. “Good Morning Senpai, how are you?”

Even though it was not asked of you, you called all the Heroes in the building Senpai. You didn’t call Heroes from other Agencies Senpai, you called them by their hero name. It was kinda wired as Ms Joke was 2 years younger than you.

“You won’t believe who I met last night on patrol!” She smiled with a light blush.

“Who did you meet, Senpai?” You asked as you pressed the button for the elevator. 

“Eraserhead!” She smiled brightly. “He acts like an old grumpy man! Haha.”

You hadn’t heard much of Esaerhead, you knew he was an underground hero who kept to himself.

“What does he look like? I’ve only heard of him.” You state and the elevator doors ding.

“He has messy black hair, unshaven face, tired eyes, and he wears a dark green suit, black boots, and a light grey wrap scarf.” Ms Joke answered as you both stepped into the elevator. You pressed the button to the floor above while she pressed the floor where the heroes training station was. 

You looked back to when you talk to Shouta, the night Oboro died. He wore something like that.

“Does he also wear goggles?” You asked.

Her face lit up and she smiled and nodded. “YES! Have you met him before?!”

Sadly, yes. It was Shouta. He sounded the same since that day, maybe besides the messy hair and tired eyes.

“Kinda, he was just in my friend’s class. Only saw him twice.” You brushed the answer off.

The doors binged opened to your floor and you walked through. Ms Joke smiled and waved you goodbye before the doors closed. 

You weren’t a fan of Joke, you weren’t friends, just saw each other at work enough to know each other names but not well enough to invite places. 

You head over to your station to start off your day as per usual on a Monday morning. 

---

“Hello Listener!”

No.

“Sorry ‘bout this, but I got permission from your agency to get you help.”

Hizashi was standing in your healing booth, with a give bruise down his right arm, possibly broken.

“...That’s fine Present Mic.” You spoke softly. “Sit down and I’ll get started.”

Mic sat down and whined a little at his arm. You sat down next to him and pulled up the fabric of his clothing to see full damage.

“May I ask what happened?” You asked softly as you placed your hand on his arm and activated your quirk. 

Mic whined at the touch but as the bruise started to fade the more willing he was too it. “Yeah I was happily talking to some fans and a baddie ran past so I tried to stop him but he threw me into a building.”

“Ouch. Did the guy get away?” You asked as your deactivate your work and checked his arm to make sure it had been properly taken care of. 

“Nah, some other heroes were there and took care of it.” He answered as he watched you. “Have we met before Listener?”

You stopped and looked up at him. His eyes were so intense and it made you shiver. You wanted to fall and you couldn’t take your hands away from him.

“...Yes, first-year, I was friends with Shirakumo.” You answered softly as you took away your hands.

You both became quite. You both knew the situation around him, and that it was hard on both of you for different reasons.

“I… See…” He said as he tried to avoid the situation. “Do I have to do extra care with my arm?”

You can tell he cringed at asking after such a wired moment. You both were avoiding it and it was best you both got away from it.

“It might be a little tight for a couple of days, so just stretch it and massage it.”

“Great!” He smiled, awkwardly. “May I leave?”

You nodded your head and he zipped past you. You watched him make a beeline to the exist and leave before saying goodbye to anyone. 

You let out a breath, and you noticed how fast your heart was pounding. 

Was that the first time you ever touch one of your soulmates? You didn’t even notice how strong the will to not take your hand away was until he left. Your hand left so heavy yet empty once your hand was away.

You were going to have to go out on Friday night. 

---

You walked into your apartment and left out a deep breath. You kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag to the floor. You face-first into the couch and sighed. You pulled up the couch blanket and turned on the TV.

You groaned and closed your eyes to briefly rest your eyes. 

“There is currently an attack and the underground hero Eraserhead the first responder to the situation.”

Your eyes snapped open and you sat up to watch. 

Your heart dropped once you saw his face, he really was like how Ms Joke described him. He looked so tired. 

You didn’t get to see his eyes - more like you couldn’t because of the goggles. His left shoulder was slightly dripping, making it looked like he was in pain.

You weren’t paying attention to what the anchor was saying, all you could do was focus on Shouta as you started to do soft rubs into his name on your wrist.

You notice him flinch a little regarding his left wrist, he must be feeling the pain in his shoulder down to his arm.

You saw a girl with green hair running towards the fight and try to make the baddie docile. 

Your heart dropped when you figured out it was Ms Joke. 

You quickly took note of what street they were one, noticing they were close by. 

You quickly got up to put on your shoes to start running over there.

---

You got there when the fight looked like it was ending, as police were there and the baddie was tied up with a grey scarf. 

“L/N!” You heard before you were hugged tightly by the woman with green hair.

She let you go and you saw the smiling face of Ms Joke.

“Senpai, are you okay?” You asked as you touched her arm and activated your quirk to heal anything. “I saw you on the news and rushed over.”

“Aww, aren’t you just the cutest thing.” She smiled widely. “I’m fine, nothing too damaged.”

You saw Shouta walking towards you two with a glare in his eye, an angry glare. You made a whining sound and avoided eye contact.

Ms Joke turned and smiled brightly at Shouta.

“Eraserhead! Your shoulder is hurt, right? You can get healed from my lady friend here!”

You briefly looked up at him and he only glared.

“Lady friend?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“...Kinda, I am a healer at the agency Ms Joke Senpai works for.” You answered.

He was silent for a moment until he brought out his left arm, your name showing. “Could you-?”

“Of course, it’s my job.” You reached out to his arm and activated your quirk to heal him. You did your best but you couldn’t avoid to briefly touch your name on his wrist.

Ms Joke stared with a big smile as she read your name on his wrist.

When you were done you let go and deactivated your work. “It will be stiff for a day at most, so rest it. Stretch it before training and going out.”

“Thank you.” He said sweetly.

He took a couple of seconds before walking away from you two.

“Hiding from your soulmate, F/N L/N?” Ms Joke teased with a smirk on her face.

You looked up at her and sighed. “Soulmates, Senpai. I am avoiding my soulmates.”

[writingdotcoffee]

#172: The Winter Slump is Here

It's that time of the year again. The colours of autumn have faded away. It's cold and wet. Barely 3 p.m., and it's getting dark outside. I've been working a lot throughout the year, and I'm tired. I find it difficult to get any writing done these days.

It happens every year — my winter slump. Usually, it comes around late January or early Feb. But 2020 has been a hell of a year, and the slump came early.

I took this week off at work and spent it with my family. We didn't go anywhere because of the various levels of lockdown going on everywhere. Staying put turned out to be pretty nice.

Normally, I would be sitting at my desk, beating myself up for failing to keep my writing routine going. What's wrong? Why can't I make it work?

However, this year, I have my Writing Analytics stats, so I looked at those instead. I built the editor and started using it for all my writing in early August. Since then, I wrote and revised some 93,000 words.

Here's the full chart:

Hang on a minute 🤔. 93,000 words in just over four months?! That doesn't sound like a failure at all. That's right. Because it's pretty damn good. Considering how shit a year 2020 was, and how many other things I've got on my plate, I'm surprised that I wrote anything at all.

Here are some more stats if you're curious:

I wrote just about 1,400 words per hour when drafting and about 850 words when doing revisions. On average, I wrote 520 words, revised 180 words and spent 51 minutes writing every day. It took me 114 hours in total to write those 93,000 words.

Out of the 133 days since the last week of July, I wrote on 108 of them and skipped 25.

I'm the most productive on Mondays, Tuesdays and the weekend 🔥. The worst writing days are Fridays.

Writing slumps are deceptive. When you're in one, you tend to forget all the great work that you've done before. Everything seems to be crumbling down, but that just isn't the case at all.

That's why tracking your words is so important. It keeps you accountable day-to-day. And it puts things in perspective when your writing isn't going so well.

I did track my words in the past too, but it was all over various documents, notebooks and planners. If I had a spreadsheet, I kept forgetting to update it. It was a nightmare. In the end, all those numbers are lost and forgotten. I have no idea how many words I wrote two, three or four years ago.

That's one of the reasons why I built Writing Analytics — to give writers easy access to all their past writing metrics over time. The editor tracks all those things automatically — no need to think about it. You will find them when you need them the most.

Writing slumps are temporary. You wrote before, and you will write again.

For me, this year's winter slump is different. Although I'm in a rut, I'm honestly feeling pretty good right now. I know I should be writing, but if I don't get anything else done in 2020, it would have been a decent year regardless.

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Past Editions

#171: Shun the Nonbelievers, November 2020

#170: Comparisonitis, November 2020

#169: Free Writing Planner and Word Counter, November 2020

#168: Decisions, decisions, decisions, November 2020

#167: Social Media for Writers, November 2020

[cirrus-grey]

Wait December??! *Checks calendar to make sure I haven't lost track of time* listen I already thought you were a machine for pumping out fics on a schedule but planning that far ahead I just- I have no words. I'm just in absolute awe

So the thing about having Against All Probability completely written by the time I posted the first chapter is that I had a full six months of guaranteed weekly updates ready to go. That meant that anything I wrote during that time (that wasn't directly related to the episode of the week) could be set aside "to post later."

Which is how I've ended up sitting on a 13 chapter longfic since February, and I'm still not going to start posting it till the end of August.

Also, since March 2020, I've been working from home in a job that only gives me one or two hours of real work to do most days, and just leaves me sitting around waiting for emails the rest of the time. (Most days. The last few weeks have been busy as hell 😅)

This has left me with a lot of free time on my hands to either build my own routine or go completely structureless, and going structureless is not good for my mental health. Since last September part of my self-imposed routine has included taking at least an hour in the mornings, Monday through Thursday, to sit down in front of my laptop and write. Some days are more productive than others, but even if I only add a single sentance to a draft it's still something, and I've been doing it long enough by now that all the little bits of something have added up into a whole lot of story.

All that to say, yes, I have a very long queue of things to post! It's less planned and more "oh wait wow have I really written all that???" though 😁