#Word for Mac document stops

[mrghostrat]

since we’re on the topic of bookbinding, i’ve been wanting to get into it but i haven’t actually done any research (yet) other than vibes, so do u have any tips for complete beginners?? :)

@geminibookbinding is who inspired me to finally look up the whole process and figure out where to start! this is the super helpful tutorial i got from them

i had dabbled with binding before though, using Sea Lemon's tutorials to make blank sketchbooks yearsss ago. i still use her text block and diy hardcover videos as a refresher/reminder while i bind!

the biggest thing that stopped me from learning to bind printed fiction was not understanding how to print the text from home, specifically how to get the pages in the right order for signatures. it's actually so easy with some very simple to use programs: QuantumElephant for PC users (free), and I use BookletCreator on Mac ($20)

i want to go into more detail about my process and supplies from a beginner perspective, i hope this helps:

format the text in a word processor

export your document as a single page PDF

enter that PDF file into Quantum Elephant or BookletCreator, to rearrange the pages for your signatures. your program will give you a new PDF file that you can then print.

4. double sided printing: i was so so scared of this at first, but it's incredibly simple. no matter what printer you have, somewhere in your print settings will be an option to print even or odd pages.

print all the even pages first, then when the stack is finished printing, flip them over, insert them back into the paper feed, and print the odd pages.

5. fold the signatures together so you have a stack of little booklets, then mark on the spine where your sewing holes need to be. manually punch the holes using an awl, or diy an awl by stuffing a cork on the end of a straight needle.

6. sewing: take regular sewing thread and run it over a block of beeswax. this makes the thread easier to manage and holds it in place better while you sew. a curved needle is also much easier to use than a straight one, especially for a kettle stitch (using Sea Lemon's tutorial)

7. gluing: glue decorative pages (or plain, but thicker paper) to the front and back to create your end pages, then press the book flat to apply PVA glue to the spine. press it overnight so the glue dries flat. (optional: glue a ribbon to the top of the spine, then sew on headbands) finally glue an additional piece of paper (or mull) around the spine to strengthen it.

8. optional: trim the edges of your book down to create a smooth edge. this one's given me the most trouble because it's very hard to get right with a knife, and the proper supplies are expensive. check your local stationery shop (i.e. Officeworks, Staples) for an industrial guillotine service

9. cover: once you have the final measurements of your text block you can start making the cover. this is essentially gluing cardboard, binders board, or plywood etc to a sheet of fabric. the fabric either needs to be bookcloth, or have some kind of non-porous back so the glue doesn't seep through. you can diy bookcloth from any fabric with tissue paper. then glue the decorate end pages to your cover to attach the textblock!

[messenger-of-babel]

Snake in the Garden

Summary: You know Wesker is bad for you, but you still can't pull away from him. (Albert Wesker x reader)

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: I stayed up to make this, I got tumblr ON MY PHONE BROWSER since I’m away from my computer and fought someone’s Mac, so here is todays post, even though I’m back from a Halloween party and tireddd. It’s a few more resi ones to round out this last week, it’s crazy that we are nearly done with this month. Warnings: manipulation and reader isn’t explicitly female but I do use a reference of reader being like Eve but it’s not strictly a gender thing more like a role thing?? Anyways enjoy my work and I’ll tidy up the last few if I need when I’m back at my PC. Much love~!

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When you were a kid, you had always been taught by the orphanage directors to make good choices and stay out of trouble. The church next door took care of your lessons, teaching you values such as to be good and kind, and to resist temptation.

So how you ended up with Albert Wesker was completely beyond you.

Yet you couldn’t stay away, a moth to a flame. If your old church director could see you now, surely he would pull you aside and make you do bible study. But you were grown now, an adult who could make adult decisions. And Albert just so happened to be yours.

You were on the ship with him currently, while he plotted his domination of the world. You knew it was wrong, knew that his plan for the future was wrong. You weren’t very religious anymore ever since leaving the orphanage, but you couldn’t help the rhetoric that swirled around in your head.

He pretended to be a god, talked of a new age. He sat on this ship in safety as if it was an arc, while it was primed with enough virus to kill the rest of the world. Clad in his leather, gloves covering his hands and glasses over his eyes. He was the furthest thing from a god, apart from the power. But his power came to him unnaturally, a cold and eerie strength that made your skin crawl when he came close. 

He was the devil, if there was a narrative, but your heart couldn’t convince your mind of that. Every time you saw him your heart fluttered disgustingly in your chest, making your pulse race. When he stopped his work, the endless scanning of documents and monitor screens, he had such a charming smile that chased the words “I think we should break up” right out of your throat. It was the way that he pressed against your back to see what you were doing, the warmth from his chest that settled into your back and relaxed your muscles instinctually. The way that you missed how his breath hit the back of your neck and fanned against your cheek when he pulled away.

You couldn’t pull away, despite how badly you wanted to. You lay awake at night, tossing in the bed that’s big enough for the two of you yet always only occupied by one.  When you wake you’d try to leave, struggle against the invisible ropes that he had wound across your heart before tightening them the next day. 

“What are you up to?” You ask softly one night, wrapping your nightgown over you tighter. Your feet are clad only in thin slippers, making the chill from the ship seep into your feet. He has his back turned to you, monitors flickering with life while he stared leant forward, chin on his interlocked fingers. He hums slightly, chair spinning silently so he can look at you from the side.

“Working.”

Of course he was. He was always working, his newly enhanced body requiring very little rest. If he needed rest he would sleep in his chair, office door locked. However you still caught him in the rare occasion sliding into place next to you, arm curling around your stomach when he didn’t think you’d notice. 

“What are you working on?” You ask, padding to his side. You don’t know why you decided to seek him out on a restless night, normally trying to pry yourself as far away from him to escape your heart that ached so badly for him. 

“Nothing that you need to be concerned about, dear heart.” He murmurs, calculating with his gaze. “Why are you out of bed?”

You shrug. “Just couldn’t sleep.” You murmur. He hums, uncharacteristically warm. When you come to his side he snakes an arm around your waist, an action that makes alarm bells ring in your head but also makes your skin burn with excitement.

You hated the way that he had you around his little finger. You knew it, he knew it, and yet it was still a game that you both played day after day. You felt shame at the way he had trained you, starving you of affection then showering with so much that it made your heart clench. The way that your eyes would now follow him when he walked past you, to see if he would glance your way or pretend you didn’t exist. Just when you were getting run down, just when you thought that he had forgotten about you, he came back with sweet words and a softer touch.

 His fingers dug into your side, dimpling the flesh with the leather of his gloves. "You should go back to bed, Dear heart" he says, voice a low rumble. His breath fans past your ear, making you shiver. "You'll get cold if you stay out here for too long. We don't want you to get sick now, would we?"

Albert always had a habit of doing that. Soon after you had both started dating, a shotgun romance in itself, he had begun getting interested in your health. Taking a look at your medical records and doctors appointments soon morphed into him conducting them himself, stating that he didn't trust other doctors with something as precious as you. That morphed into him dictating what you could do and when you go could out, Wesker worrying that you could get sick, or hurt, or something would affect the delicate balance of your system.

Precious.

That was the word that he would use when he did give you the time of day, hands stroking over your skin with rough palms. Palms that had killed and executed and committed sins that would have God paling on his throne, suddenly ghosting over your skin like you were glass. He made you feel more fragile than you were, and some days you really did feel that way.

Some days you felt like you were getting sick, despite being healthy the day before. It would be the worrying of Wesker that put the seed of doubt into your mind, suddenly displaying a symptom that he had listed earlier that morning. As soon as he caught sight of it he'd send you to bed or keep you in one of the many rooms on the ship dedicated for you, always soft and comfortable and luxurious.

 It was a contrast to the bleak and military interior of the rest of the ship, a contrast of how he treated you. When you had his attention, you were royalty. When you didn't, it was like you were just another staff member.

Yet you still shake your head, half in response to him and half in shame that you let him toy with you like this, that there was a part of your heart that was so deeply in love it wanted to forget everything that he was doing. "I won't get sick," you mumble. "I'll go back to bed soon."

He raises his eyebrows above the frames of his glasses. "Are you now? What are you going to do in the meantime then?" he purrs, his voice a soft timbre that resonates through your bones. You shrug and the hand gripping your waist tightens.

"Can I stay with you?" you ask quietly. You didn't know yourself why you were seeking him out, only that your brain buzzed at the idea of staying with him a bit more, to have his eyes trained on you.

He sighs through his nose and shakes his head. "I'm afraid this work is too brash for you. Come, let's go back to bed." He pats your hip, and you look at him hesitantly.

"Both of us?" you ask softly, making him chuckle.

"Yes, both of us. I could use some time to lie down. I'll stay with you till you fall asleep if that is your concern.”

He slides you off of his lap, standing and pushing his chair back in. With a gloved hand on your back he guides you back to your bedroom. Your heart races and your head feels light at having him this close, like a drug coursing through your veins.

Your bedroom is dark, lit only by the lights from outside and a single lamp by the bed. Your sheets were tangled from the way that you had kicked them off, soft folds rippling down the side of the bed. When you crawl onto the surface, more excited to sleep than you had for ages, he bends and removes his shoes before dragging the sheets back onto the mattress.

You get situated in bed and turn the light off, sickened at yourself for getting this close to the man again. The man that wouldn't let you leave, wouldn't let you go ashore alone, who wouldn't trust you doing things you had done by yourself before meeting him. The man who had destroyed cities, taken lives, manipulated innocent people and was actively doing it still. But this was the same man who had wooed you with sweet words and false promises, who had approached you about your research into genetic structuring and played the part of a perfect crush. Tall, handsome, smart.

If the old sisters from the church could see you now, curled in the arms of a mass murderer with your heart content, you know they would be hanging their heads in shame. For following someone who was convinced that they were above mankind, but told you those words in a tone so honey coated you could have believed them to be truth.

You let those few tears you produce drip into the pillowcase, exhaling and closing your eyes. If this story was written in the Bible, you know that Albert would consider this place the arc, a safe haven in the destruction of the earth.

But you knew better.

You knew that this was the garden, with its soft beds and easy to fall into luxury, yet boxed in by high walls that were forbidden to cross. You were Eve, peaceful in the garden but curious of the world outside you. You wanted Albert to be Adam, the counterpart to Eve, but still you knew better.

Wesker was the snake that slunk down from the trees and whispered into your ear, soft and buttery sweet. Who told you honeyed words from lips that dripped with venom, eyes beady and always waiting for an opportunity to strike. You knew this, you knew better.

But every time you felt yourself recovering from the isolation of him he drew you right back, and you sank your teeth into that apple once again. You let his honeyed words wrap around your brain in a pleasant fog, completely unaware that he had sunk his fangs into your neck.

[writingwithfolklore]

Uncommon Microsoft Word Shortcuts

(I use word on my PC, so these commands might be slightly different on a mac/IOS/other!)

CTRL + 1

CTRL+E to change alignment from Left to Middle (Then CTRL+E again to move back, or use CTRL+L)

CTRL+A to select all text in a doc (I use this constantly!)

CTRL+I/U/B to italicize, underline, bold.

CTRL+N to create a new, blank doc

CTRL+F to find a word or phrase in your doc

CTRL+W to close the document (and CTRL+O to open an existing one)

CTRL+Y to repeat the last action (this one I find hard to get it to do what I want tbh)

CTRL+T to create a hanging indent (soo helpful for school citations)

CTRL + Shift

CTRL+Shift+>/< to change font size up and down

CTRL+Shift+F to change font and style

CTRL+Shift+E to start and stop tracking changes (great for editing!)

CTRL+Shift+Arrow Keys to select either the next or previous word

CTRL+Shift+N to turn to normal formatting

CTRL+Shift+W to underline words but not the spaces

CTRL + Other

CTRL+Return to create a page break (this is incredibly useful if you ever run into the problem of changing something earlier in the draft that then misaligns all your subsequent chapters. Using page breaks instead of repeatedly hitting enter prevents this)

Alt+CTRL+Space to read your selection or everything past your cursor out loud (check out my post Read It Out Loud!)

CTRL+Backspace to delete the last word

CTRL+Alt+M to insert a comment

Other Commands

F7 Opens spellcheck

Shift+Arrow keys to select the next or previous letter

Let me know if I missed any you find useful or use regularly!

[justplainwhump]

Spotted

Co-written with @hackles-up. Part of the Ridley-Dies-Arc, can be read on it's own. B and Tom (aka second bad guy) are her characters.

Dany and B's escape takes a bad turn.

[Masterlist]

Content / Warnings: BBU elements, recapture, feverish whumpee, restraints, multiple whumpees, multiple whumpers, abduction, threats of noncon.

Being the daughter of a man like my father, I've been taught quite a lot about being on the run, even though I've rarely been myself. The importance of high quality fake papers, for example, and how much further you can get if you just behave like a rich person; how with the right tip a concierge at the Ritz will surely keep you out of the books, while a dingy motel owner might sell you out for the price of a Big Mac.

It's ironic, that we have both of that - good documents and good money -, and still need to rely on the very dingy sort of accommodations. Because all I learned didn't take into account being the subjects of a nationwide manhunt for the murder of a mafia-affiliated just-not-billionaire. Or hiding a huge, broad-shouldered traumatized man with sharp titanium teeth who refuses to take off his collar.

We've slept in the car, twice, but B's fever had only become worse, and none of us had been able to close an eye.

We're at a rest stop on a highway, a small shady restaurant with a bunch of guest rooms above it. A significant share of these is most likely occupied by the prostitutes sitting at the bar right now, slightly bored because it's not yet their time of the night. It makes me feel better, in a way. Means the police aren't quite welcome here. That can only be good for us.

B has stepped away for the washroom, and I'm just studying the road map once more, when a thin man in a leather jacket slips into my booth and sits down in B's spot.

Under the table, my hand wraps around my gun. I can help myself, but it would create attention, and attention is the very last thing we need.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, while he looks me down. Black jeans, oversized black Tee, short gloves, dark baseball cap over a short bob. I look nothing like the pictures from the wanted posters. I also look nothing like a sweetheart.

"Fuck off," I tell him. "That seat is taken."

He chuckles. "You don't even want to hear my offer?"

"Pretty sure I do not, no."

"I can get you out." He gestures roughly towards the border. "Out of the country. Friend's got an airplane, used to... unregistered cargo."

"What makes you think I want to leave?"

He laughs, points at my cap, my baggy clothes, the duffle bag between my feet. "I know the looks of people like you. And I know this place isn't exactly a spa retreat. People come here for reasons."

"Oh yeah?" With the hand above the table, I take a sip of my coke. "And say I were interested. How much would that flight be?"

The stranger tilts his head towards the restrooms. "Your... buddy back there. Built like a brick, isn't he? Seems like he can handle himself quite well."

I lift my chin in alarm, while he just leans in conspiratorially, and asks, "WRU material?"

I clench my jaw and shake my head.

"If he came back, and I said the magic word, what would he do, huh, princess?"

I can't help but tense at the pet name. At the implication.

"What would you do, huh?" He gives me a slow smile. "Wanna give it a try? Respect!"

"Fuck off." I slam my gun onto the table, trained at him, keeping my voice low. "I'm not a runaway pet, nor is my friend. I've just had some trouble with some assholes, and it didn't end well for them. If you don't want to test your luck, I think you should just walk away and forget we've ever met."

He stares at the gun and lifts his hand in a mock gesture of defeat. "Gosh, you're a flimsy one, aren't you? Alright, I'm leavin', I'm leavin'."

My heart is racing, as I watch him retreat through the front doors, looking back to me with a final mock salute.

It still does, when B returns to the table. He still looks exhausted, his eyes dull, with deep rings underneath, feverish sweat glinting on his forehead. 'Seems like he can handle himself well', the man has said. Fucking ironic, a threat within a threat.

B needs a break. And I’m not giving him one. I toss two bills onto the counter and grab the uneaten burger from the plate, before I nod at him. "We gotta go."

“Trouble?” He asks, moving in step with me as I move. All professional, all alert Guard Dog. Both of us know how much it costs him to keep it up.

"Yeah." I cast a glance around. Nobody seems to spare us any attention, but I've been fooled before. I hadn't seen the guy coming. And he must've been watching us for a while. Fuck. I'm pretty sure that I haven't convinced him. Just need to hope that he'll find easier prey. Or that we'll be gone before he returns. "Some gangster spotted us. Can't tell you what he wants exactly, he doesn't know about the bounty, but way too interested in you to be safe."

I lift the heavy bag and throw it over my shoulder. It's better if I carry it than him. He's sick; and he needs his hands free. "He left through the front door. Don't think we've seen the last of him though." I bite my lip. "Any other way out?"

B nods, indicating to his right hand side. "This way."

He makes steady determined steps past the bathrooms and towards the back entrance, almost betraying the exhaustion he must be feeling. Just as I try to let myself be fooled, too, though, he wavers for a moment, stumbling and reaching to hold himself on the wall.

I'm by his side right away, holding out my arm to steady him from the other side. He's burning, even through his clothes. His fever has become worse. A plane ride would've been just what we needed. Fucking asshole.

I rest a hand on B's hot cheek. "It's not far," I promise. "Two more days, and we can find Frankie's friends, and rest there."

I had thought about just leaving our car behind, making a run through the fields behind the rest stop, and just find someone who sells us their car for enough cash.

But B isn't even well enough to make it to the parking lot in one run. I grimace, making sure the gun is where I can reach it. I can't use any police attention. But if that's the price to pay to get B out of here safely, so be it.

Whatever that guy is up to, he's bad news; he's a threat, and he won't be any more with a bullet in his chest. I wonder for a second, if Dad would like that reasoning. He never wanted me to think that way. But there's many things about my life that he's never wanted.

"Come on, Ben," I say quietly. "We need to keep moving. You can hold on to me, alright? You can sleep in the car."

B bunches his hand into a fist against the wall, exhaling with a groan.

"Nh... No... 'M fine, Dany... I can do this." He mutters, and pushes himself off of the wall and stumbles forward, shrugging off my hand. "We can't stay here."

He pushes himself against the back door, holding it open with his body so I may slip out.

Something moves behind me. There’s a hand on my side, and cold metal pressed to the back of my head. They came from behind. Of course they did. Fuck. Fuck.

"Stay nice and still, pretty thing." someone murmurs.

I will not.

"B!" I shout, when I feel the barrel shift as he reaches around me, fumbling for my gun. I spin the other way, let the heavy duffel bag slam into his side and shoulder, while I grab my gun myself. The attacker stumbles, but catches himself too quickly, his gun in front of my face just as I bring my own up.

Fury is burning in his eyes. "You fucking... Don't fucking move or I'll put one in your knee. Sluts don't need to walk."

In front of us, B lets out a low growl. He bares his titanium teeth, taking a shaky step forward. The backdoor is still open, the night air wafting in.

"Oh no you don’t," the stranger hisses, pulling back the safety on his gun and pointing it at my leg. "I saw his collar. Tell your pet to back down or I'll shoot."

My mind is racing.

My gun is still in my hands, half way up. I could get a bullet in his chest, but he'll be faster, shooting my leg. I could kill him, but we'd never get away.

They want us alive. They want us alive, and they don't know who we are, so chances are they want us alive and not torture us to death.

Sickening as it is to admit, we'll stand better chances later. It feels like a betrayal, when I say, "Stand down, B."

B’s glare stays on the man, burning and deadly. He dropped his defensive stance immediately, though.

I don't lower my own gun.

"What do you want?"

He doesn’t reply, keeps his own gun level, while he remarks, “Impressive. It’s very responsive to you. How did you get your hands on a Guard Dog, huh? Must’ve cost a fortune. Daddy bought him for you?” He sneers.

Daddy. My hand trembles and I need my other hand to steady it and the gun. "Daddy is not in the picture any longer. And he answers to me," I reply. "What do you want? There isn't a lot to get out of us. The Guard Dog is old and sick, he isn't worth much any longer, but we can talk money." Ridley's words taste sour in my mouth. I hope B gets why I have to talk like this. They need to let us go.

The man just laughs. “Oh I wouldn’t discount you two so quickly.” He takes a step forward. “Now I need you to lower that gun and come with me. I’ll tell you all you wanna know then.”

“Don’t move…” B grits out. “We won’t go… anywhere with you.”

“Oh it talks too. Clever doggy.”

"Don't come closer," I hiss. "And don't talk to him like that. Or I'll shoot, and I won't bother aiming for the leg."

When I notice the shadowy movements behind B, it's too late. Something lowers around his neck and yanks him back.

I lose all control.

"No," I yell and stumble over towards him. "No! B!"

He’s falling, catching himself just before he hits the ground and lunges with teeth bared at his assailants, fighting the noose around his throat.

“Oh no you fucking don’t.” The man behind me is on me, grabs me in a vicious choke hold, arm pressing into my throat and kicking my legs out from underneath me to send me crashing to the ground. The gun falls from my hand, clattering across the floor behind me.

I have eyes only for the scene in front of me, the long catch pole, the noose lanyard choking B’s neck, his desperate, feverish thrashes. He’s panting for breath already.

"Stop," I shout, half sobbing. "B. Don't. Don't."

At the sound of my voice, B freezes in place.

It’s enough. The men yank back on the pole, sending him crashing into the ground.

The man behind me presses me down, pinned under his weight.

“Shhh, there’s a good girl", the stranger breathes in my ear, wrenching my arms back and fixating them with zip ties, while hissing obscenities into my hair.

Good girl.

I have betrayed B. I have betrayed myself, giving up this fight.

The man's hands are wandering over my ass. I don't care. All I care about is the man folded over on the other side of the back door, the man whom I promised to get him to safety.

My eyes are burning with tears.

I swallow back a sob.

"Don't hurt him," I whisper. "Please. Fuck me however you want to, I'll let you, but please, don't hurt him."

“Oh I think we’ll do whatever we please, sweetheart.” He murmurs, hand still firm on my ass. “We’ll take good care of your dog. Better than you have. Get it back on its feet and it’s gonna earn us a fortune in the dog fights.”

Better than you have. I can't breathe. He's right. I've almost let him die of this fever, keeping him on the run, always on his ties, never allowing us to rest.

The man who’s sat in the booth with me has stepped in outside, kneeling on B’s back.

I watch with tears in my eyes, as he pulls out a collar.

I didn't have a choice, I tell myself. I had to.

I’ve failed him, nonetheless.

I’ve failed us both.

---------

-

Tag list (this is a very old one; lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @distinctlywhumpthing @whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @ocean-blue-whump

[java-dragon]

Bookbinding for Beginners by a Beginner Part 3

*braces self on a door frame* Right there's a lot of information I still need to cover so lets get into it.

I don't recall if I told everyone to set up the document to be booklet type or not but here's how to do that (I'm not re-reading what I wrote my brain stopped working at some point)

But Layout Tab, Page Layout, hit the little arrow pointing towards the document:

I have the sheets per booklet set to 32, but this site is helpful for helping you get the exact number of signatures (a portion of the fic you are printing it is one section of the book, whereas a text block is the whole thing together)

That's if you want to print through the program you're type facing (the text within the pages all of the formatting and indents and everything we started covering in part 2 is type facing). I have totally done printing through the word processor but there is a different option that I will cover later down this post.

For now I'm going to try and remember all of the extra stuff I need to cover. A lot of this is trial an error and fiddling, farting, and sometimes sobbing your way through this.

OH! Right if the fic you're type facing has a fake email. Like.... I don't know "lighthousekeeper@email.com" Word will sensor it automatically when you paste it onto the document. The only work around I have is to have the OG link to the fic you're working on, and try your best to locate the email copy it, and find it within the text of the document using the headers to skip to the chapter in question and scan for the brackets with [Email redacted] or some such, it's usually blue text with "[ ]" going on.

I can't truly think of anything else at this time pertaining to my tips and tricks for Word. There is more I may know but my mind is fizzling out I may circle back to this but I think I'll move on towards downloading and uploading fonts to use in your bookbinding adventures and some Canva stuff.

DaFont and 1001 Free Fonts work

Dafont:

1001:

I'll be using these two Fonts as my examples cause... well I actually quite like them.

Hit "Download"

This will pop up on your screen hit "OK"

Go to your Downloads or where you put your downloads,

Right click on the file in question and hit "Extract All"

Hit Extract.

Click on the folder post extraction. The file type you're looking for is "Open Type Font File" Right Click, "Install" or "Install for all Users" works as well and the font will be available to anyone that has a User key for the computer you're on.

Sometimes the file will look like this:

The Greyed out one? That's the type file.

There will be a pop up that says "Installing Font" give it a few seconds and it will disappear.

You will now be able to open up your word processor and go to the font section and be able to find your newly downloaded font

Enjoy your new found power in getting fancy pants fonts on your word documents!

Now... Canva...

You can download it for free like I said. I have it on my phone and on my computer as a software application:

So I don't accidentally doxx myself this is all you really need to see- you can do much much more than bookcovers, I've done bookmarks, and logos and a few other things.

but for our purposes we'll open up a document and make a few pages:

At the very tippy top that I did not show there's "create Design" I usually hit either "Bookcover" or "ebook cover".

There will be a document with some template examples and you can scroll and see if you like any of those. OR You can just go down to "Elements" and start playing and toying around with that.

You can also grab screen captures of decorative lines to replace the "***" on your document.

How to do this- in elements there should be a search bar type in "decorative lines" and you can refine it "Decorative Rainbow" "brush stroke" "ornate" then open up the application on your computer that allows for screen shots Snip and Sketch for Windows, I don't know for Mac. Sorry.

Select something you like and when it appears on the document click outside of it.

open up your screen grab and grab the line in question

Here's my example.

Now in your word document feel free to go into the Pages tab of the Navigation bar and find whatever the author has used to break up the text. Highlight, right click, hit "search" There will be a pop up on the right hand of word hit the tab that says "Search this document/file" you can see how many times "***" or the equivalent has been used. I would suggest opening this link and reading all of the other tips and tricks since they break it down better than I ever could.

Edit as of November 18th 2023: But the root gist of it all is to highlight the "***" or equivalent divider on the document. Right click, "Search" there will be a prompt that opens on the right hand side of Word hit the "In this Document" and it will bring up every instance of what you have highlighted.

Have the image you intend to replace "***" with right click "Copy". Back in Word, hit "Replace" there will be a box that pops up with "Replace with" Type: ^C . What this does is take the image you've just copied and will override the highlighted "***" Hit "Replace all". You may have to scrub through the document to center it properly but thankfully it's easier to find especially with the Navigation Bar on the "Pages" tab open.

End Edit

Though you can just scroll and find the breaks highlight and drag and drop the image to break up the text if you so choose. Do what works for you.

Now you can also do the same thing with decorative chapter headers, just choose or fiddle and make something that works for the fic in question. Remember when I made you do all of those "Next Page" breaks for the fic? Well on the top of that page with the chapter, double click the header insert an image and "warp image" to "Behind text" and you are free to resize and move the image around.

Just so you know whatever is next to the image will repeat with this example it's the author's name, it will appear no matter the page number odd or even. I don't know the work around and it doesn't bother me much at the end of the day. At this point I'm just trying to pull all of the tips and tricks I've learned over time out of my ass to help people out.

Back to Canva. You can make your Covers if you'd like in this and you can do decorative cover pages. Just go to the page that you want the title page on, insert an image, and warp image to "In front of text" You will be free to stretch and fill the page as much as you please. I do the same thing with my logo placement for the logo page.

Now... if you're still with me... Congratulations I'm not sure I'm still with me or not.

So I'll move on to the "OK I like how this all looks and I've saved everything I've done"

GREAT you can calculate the right number of signatures and print from here OR you can take a few extra steps.

Hit File, Export, hit Create PDF/XPS. I hope you have at least a free Acrobat or PDF reader. Wait. Don't panic if it looks like the processor is freezing up on you. there should be a pop up of a PDF after that minor heart attack.

Now. With your new PDF you're going to go to Bookbinder JS

Upload the pdf file you've created and I'll walk you through the steps.

Letter 612 x 792 is your standard 8.5 x 11 paper.

Printer type- Duplex I hope you have a duplex printer. You'll need it or else you will be manually flipping the pages to make this book bind.

Folio- That is just 8.5 x 11 paper folded in half to make 8.5 x 5.5 booklets. Keep these numbers in mind.

Signature format- there you can select "Perfect bound" AKA Paperback. Or Standard signature. Here I select 20 page signatures. Keep in mind that there will be four pages per one sheet of paper.

Preview output ALWAYS preview output because it will tell you how many signatures will be with the upload. For example:

What this means: Total pages of the file uploaded, since the fic I'm type facing is 300+k words I divided the chapters up.

so you know what a 100+k word fic looks like printed folded and the air compressed (I will cover this as well) Keep this in mind this was Celestial Navigation now add similarly stacked pages atop of what's here. 100+k fics it's wisest and best to split this in half. Keep in mind your wrists. 500-600 pages is comfortable holding. You can get to around 800 pages but if it's 900+ pages I would think about dividing the document up.

After you are happy with the number of everything. Hit "Generate Output" wait for the popup for the save file to appear and hit "Save" this will be in a zip file as well. Head over to your Downloads and hit extract, open up the file and some terminology that will help with this:

Aggregate book means "the whole damn thing" Signature 0 is the first signature.

To spare the wrath and protest of my printer- I print one signature at a time and fold it since I don't have to worry about getting the page numbers to line up.

Take however much time you please. Next post. Folding signatures, pressing signatures, stitching, gluing end bands and ribbons.

aka- welcome to the world little fic. We hope you enjoy your stay. You're going to be a real book soon.

If I wasn't running out of steam I would cover Quartos. But if you wanted to print a smaller fic know this- increase the text size through out the whole document, these things are SMALL. 4.5x5.5 all said and done. I would go to TikTok and Youtube and look up "Quarto Book bind" if you want to see the smallest, cutest most pain in your ass book you've ever wanted to try and make.

I've done those as experiments as well... they can be fun but my god I'm bad at mathing at times.

[aldieb]

the vibes are terrible today. slept 3 hours bc mac kept sitting on my neck like a fat christmas ham and i couldn’t stop thinking about word documents, and now i have to go to the doctor and take a meeting from the parking lot right after. wails

[fablewritesnonsense]

howdy! for the fic writer asks, 3, 4, 13, and 19?

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

On this account? Nuclear Family by a landslide. It's my longest project literally ever, and the characters are so near and dear to my heart 💖

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

An embarrassing number to be sure. There's the four I've got posted, but I've also got three more documents in a weird state of flux at the moment with like, 500 words max across them.

13. How much planning do you do before writing?

Very little compared to some of my fellow writers. I have a loose outline in my head for each of them based around Fallout 4 and the questlines within, but I dont do well with hard outlines so I end up winging it a bit and wili diving for fun quest ideas to send me somewhere. I also fay dream a bunch about them, but I dont think that counts 😂

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs

There was no cute fluffy thing to pick from, so heres an excerpt from one of Nuclear Family's chapters set to post in January...

The earth was torn out from under her as a cold metal hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing and lifting her up off the ground. Kellogg hung from a tree, dangling Gin over the others as he slowly crushed her throat. Everyone beneath began yelling and screaming as she flailed around, trying to kick him or something.

"I knew you were trouble, this is going to be so fun," Kellogg laughed as Mac fired, there was a searing pain across her forearm as she scrambled at his hands. But all she could see were his synthetic yellow eyes as the oxygen left her lungs and his fingers dug deeper and deeper. "Maybe this will finally get him to stop fighting. And believe me, this is preferable to what you're going to find on the other end-"

Thanks dor the ask 💖

[whataweirdfeeling]

HELLO welcome to WAWF WEDNESDAY your monthly WAWF update [1st Wednesday of each month]

Considering it is now the turkey-loving month of November check out what WAWF has to be thankful for and more

Read below to find out what else WAWF has been up to this month

WAWF NEWS: 'What The F*ck Is A WAWF'

Check out our brand new WAWF Collection 002 Shoot & Documentation 2 find out…

In this first year emergence WAWF has worked hard at creating an open loving and supportive community for its peers and will continue to do just that We cannot be more thankful for all of the love and support we have received in return :)

@whataweirdfeeling & @vyngak on Instagram

What We’re Cranking

Recent: For All The Dogs [Album] - Drake

Honorable Mentions: The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We [Album] - Mitski, To Be Eaten Alive [Album] - Mariah The Scientist, Larger Than Life [Album] - Brent Faiyaz, Megatron 2 [Album] - Babytron, Lighter [Single] - Steve Aoki & Paris Hilton

Lowkey: A Great Chaos [Album] - Ken Carson

Honorable Mentions: What We Didn’t Have [Album] - Summrs, London [Album] - Tana, Crueger [Album] - Che, 3200 VOL 2 [Album] - Warhol.SS, Halfway There [Album] - 03 Greedo

Still in Rotation: Donda [Album] - Kanye West

Honorable Mentions: Pure Heroine [Album] - Lorde, LP1 [Album] - FKA Twigs, Ego Death [Album] - The Internet, PARTYNEXTDOOR 2 [Album] - PARTYNEXTDOOR, Sorry 4 The Weight [Album] - Chief Keef, This Old Dog [Album] - Mac Demarco

Throwback: Jazz [Album] - Queen

Honorable Mentions: Chapter 2: World Domination [Album] - Three 6 Mafia, Prom [Album] - Mindless Self Indulgence, Diamond Dogs [Album] - David Bowie, Songs in the Key of Life [Album] - Stevie Wonder, …For the Whole World to See [Album] - Death

WAWF’s WEARING

WAWF 002 'WAWF The 13th' Ringer Tee Collection AVAILABLE NOW :)))))))))))

WAWF Magazine pushes art fashion culture and much more Stay tuned for all of the exciting things WAWF has in store

Words / Curated by @vyngak

[venusdian]

II. The Pressure.

“Critical Thinking versus Logical Thinking, can they work together or be it biggest enemy? The definition of Critical Thinking by the Oxford Dictionary is the objective analysis and evaluation of an issue in order to form a judgment. In contrast, the definition of Logical Thinking is the act of analyzing a situation and coming up with a sensible solution. They both sound the same. So, that means they do the same thing, but what if I told you there was a difference between the two? Could you guess what it is?” Dr. John Lambert starts his lecture, staring at the classroom of thirty students, focused on the lecture.

Junis sat in the middle row with her refurbished rose gold Mac book, which had a blank Microsoft Word document on the screen. She had the voice recorder app opened in the background. So she could air-drop the lesson to Vemini when she saw her again. A student raised their hand.

“yes?”

“Well, critical thinking involves emotional intelligence. Not only you’re using logic, but you’re also using emotions. While logical focus on facts and truths.” The student explains. Dr. Lambert hums, nodding.

“Somebody has been reading ahead in their textbook.” Dr. Lambert notes,

“That’s correct. Now that we know the difference. The big question is, when do we use Critical Thinking, and When do we use logical? Any suggestions?”

“Well, we use Critical when it comes to everyday conversations.” A male student suggests. Junis hums as she looks back, seeing where the voice came from as it was unfamiliar.

Sitting in the back of the class was a pale, beige man. He looked homely and had dreadlocks that stopped below his chest and a green Crochet Beanie Skull Cap on his head. He wore a beige hoodie with a chest emblem saying “So Flyyy”. He had bright gray eyes, plump pink lips, and a wooden necklace around his neck. He looked familiar. She was stuck on where.

“Well, that’s actually a good suggestion.” Junis silently hummed, disagreeing with the male student. Junis turned around and began typing away on her laptop. Dr. Lambert noticed that Junis seemed very focused on her computer. He silently pauses as he leans back and turns around to see the seating chart.

That was Vemini’s Cousin, Junis Waterson. Vemini is always active in his class. While Junis always silently typed away on her computer. He didn’t even know the sound of her voice. A small smile forms on his face. This is a good time to find out.

“Ms. Waterson.” He calls out. Junis looks up, confused.

“Uhm yes, Dr. Lambert.”

“Do you have a suggestion?” Junis nervously chuckles,

“U-uh no sir.” Dr. Lambert hums.

“Well, what are you typing?” Junis sheepishly looked down at her laptop as she could feel the attention was on her. She wasn’t typically a fan of the attention. She just likes to type her thoughts out on her Macbook and then ask the professor questions afterward.

“Ms. Waterson, it’s your chance to shine.” Dr. Lambert hums. Junis sighs softly.

“Well, ok. I have to disagree with the previous student. We often don’t use critical thinking while having conversations with other peers.” Dr. Lambert hums.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, what about having a debate with someone? We’re often using logical thinking rather than critical thinking.”

“What’s the difference between debating and having a conversation?” The male student asks. Junis looks back at the student, humming.

“Well, when you’re debating about something, uhh— let’s say about sports. You don’t factor in the person’s emotions. You go off logic and facts. When you’re having a debate, you’re just having a conversation that happens to be an argument.”

“Hmmm, well according to the Oxford dictionary, a debate is a formal discussion on a particular topic in a public meeting or legislative assembly, in which opposing arguments are put forward. That doesn’t sound like a conversation to me.” The male student argues. Junis turns around and googles the definition of conversation, A small smirk forms on her face as she begins to read the definition of conversation.

“Conversation, a talk, especially an informal one, between two or more people, in which news and ideas are exchanged. Debate falls under the discussion bubble.”

“But a debate is a formal conversation.” Junis turned back around to see the male student was grinning. She smiles back, feeling the thrill of the discussion at hand.

“You stated, everyday conversation. You didn’t specify if it was formal or informal.”

“Well, I would assume if I say every day, you would understand I mean informal.”

“Well, that’s still not clear, because we do have debates and if a person loves to argue that can be an everyday thing, am I right?” The Male student looks at her, impressed.

“Yeah, that’s true but wouldn’t that fall into critical thinking if somebody argues every day? They use the fact that whatever they say will anger the other person while giving themselves a sense of satisfaction because they got a rise out of the other party.”

“I mean, yeah you have a point. But critical thinking doesn’t just base its decision on emotions. We also analyze, interpret, as well as evaluate the situation before we make a clear judgment on how to handle the next steps. Kind of like—”

“Debating?” Dr. Lambert, amusingly looks at Junis, excited to hear her rebuttal.

“With debating, the arguments are already predetermined. Oftentimes, we know what we’ll say to rebut the previous point. Whereas, in personal or informal conversations, we study the person’s emotions and words before we speak. But also, what about mindless conversations? The ones where thinking isn’t exactly needed, are everyday conversations a good suggestion, or should we be precise in our example?” Junis asks, looking at Dr. Lambert.

Dr. Lambert’s tongue hits the roof of his mouth, making a clicking sound, impressed by Junis’ argument.

“I think you have a point, Ms. Waterson. Good work.” He says, giving her a proud wink. Junis’ face flushed, embarrassed by the compliment. The male student leaned back in his chair as he watched Junis. He was impressed. He’s never met a girl that could keep up with him. He had to introduce himself…

Meanwhile, Zy’onna was holding practice outside at the track with her dance team. The big homecoming game was this Saturday. All of Washington was coming out. It was Washington State University versus Redland University for the state championship. Because this game was a huge event, Zy’onna has been working her dance team hard because she will not let her team mess up on their big night.

Zy’onna angrily paced back and forth as she looked at her Apple watch. Vemini was late.

“Has anybody seen Vemini?! I know she read my text in the group chat!” Zy’onna angrily shouts at her team. Tamia gets up and places her hand on her shoulder.

“Chill, she’s coming. Let’s just start practice.” Tamia helpfully advises. Zy’onna pinches the bridge of her nose.“If Vemini wasn’t so good with flips and had the best rhythm on the dance team, I would’ve replaced her!” Zy’onna angrily exasperates.

“Ok, girls get in formation. Síauna gets in Vemini’s place. We’re gunna start with “UP” by Cardi B Dance mix for our halftime.” The team gets in formation. Zy’onna walks over to the chair, where her phone and Bluetooth speaker are. She picked up her phone and saw Cassius stretching on the other side of the track. Zy’onna smiles to herself.

“T.” Zy’onna calls. Tamia rushes over to Zy’onna.

“Watch them practice. I’m going to say hi to my sexy hunk of meat.” Zy’onna happily sings as she hands Tamia the phone, rushing to Cassius. Síauna shamefully watched the captain of the dance team run over to Cassius. Síauna looks over at her dance teammate, Kenomi Sato, feeling like she is about to burst. The music starts, and they begin their routine, but Síauna isn’t focused on the beat and the eight counts that went with them. Her eyes were on Zy’onna and Cassius’ interaction.

She watched as Zy’onna wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes lovingly looking up at him while Cassius sported a fake smile, just going through the motions as Zy’onna was blinded by her own fantasy. The guilt of her knowing that Cassius was just kissing Junis, just loving on Junis, just fucking on Junis just killed her.

It killed her so much that she messed up the routine, causing Tamia to stop.

“Síauna, what the fuck was that?” Síauna looks up at Tamia and scratches the back of her neck.

“Uhhhh, I can—”

“Do you want to embarrass us at the State championship?” She continues to scold now, getting up in Síauna’s face. Kenomi places a firm grip on Tamia’s shoulder.

“Chill out, T. She just made a small mistake. The State championship ain’t till Saturday.” Tamia glares at Kenomi, moving her frustrations onto Kenomi from Síauna. Síauna gives Kenomi a thankful look. She nods as she takes the thrashing of Tamia. Zy’onna returns to the dance team and sees Tamia going off on Kenomi, irritating her. She can’t leave for less than five minutes, and her teammates act right?!

“Tamia, get back in formation. We do not have time to scold our teammates. If they mess up, quickly call them out and start over! Got it?!” Zy’onna scolds Tamia. Kenomi grins at Tamia, who rolls her eyes and goes to her spot. Kenomi returns to her spot beside Síauna, who graciously looks over at her.

“Thank you.” Síauna whispers to Kenomi. Kenomi nods.

“I gotchu.” Síauna took a deep breath and shook her whole body, trying to shake off the nerves, but guilt still weighed heavily on her. The music starts again, and without missing a beat, Síauna messes up again. Zy’onna stops the music, letting out a flustered groan.

“Si Si! What in the hell?!” Zy’onna exclaims. Síauna lets out a remorseful sigh.

“Sorry, Zy.”

“You’re not gunna be as sorry as me when I have to sit you out for this game!” Zy’onna threatens. Síauna, at that moment, should’ve lost all sympathy for Zy’onna. Zy’onna just carelessly threatened her spot in front of everyone, but she felt she deserved that. Síauna gets out of her spot.

“Síauna, what’s going on?” Zy’onna asked, confused.

“I need to talk to you.” Zy’onna lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Fine, Tamia watch the team, and don’t go on a power trip again.” Some of the teammates snicker as Tamia rolls her eyes, slightly embarrassed. Zy’onna and Síauna walk away from the earshot of the team. Zy’onna folds her arms together.

“What is it?” Zy’onna agitatedly asks. Síauna opens her mouth, but Zy’onna interrupts her.

“And if it’s about some personal shit? Wait till Vemini comes, ‘cause frankly, I don’t give a damn about your personal life. You knew what you were signing up for when you joined the dance team.” Síauna pauses. Síauna reminded herself how much of a bitch, Zy’onna is. The sympathy that she had for Zy’onna, slowly dissipated. She mentally shakes her head.

Although Zy’onna was a bitch, she still didn’t deserve to be cheated on.

“Zy’onna… You promise you won’t get mad. Well, at me, at least.” Zy’onna loudly lets out the sound of exasperation.

“Síauna, hurry the fuck up.” Síauna took a deep breath, letting out a slightly annoyed chuckle. Zy’onna was making it hard for her to tell her the truth.

“Look—” before Síauna could start, Vemini interrupts them.

“Aye, I’m here. Sorry, got caught up with some shit.” Vemini explains. Zy’onna looks over at Vemini, annoyed.

“Bitch, You knew what time you had to be here.” Vemini gives her a warning glare. Zy’onna wasn’t scared of anybody. Well, except for Vemini. Vemini did scare her just a bit. That’s why Vemini is the Co-Captain of the dance team. She didn’t need a kiss ass. She needed a leader.

“Well, since you decided to choose the team over dick this time, you can go over the routine again.” Vemini rolls her eyes. Zy’onna walks away, and Síauna follows, but Vemini grabs her wrist. Síauna turns around.

“Yes?”

“What were you and Zy talking about?” Vemini asks, her arms crossed. Vemini’s serious eyes were very intimidating. Síauna stammers, but Vemini knew what was going on.

“You were about to tell her that Junis is fucking her man, right?” Síauna sighs.

“Vee—”

“No. Two things I don’t play about are my money and my family. If you ever think to tell Zy’onna what’s going on with Junis and Cassius, I will, personally, make sure your life is a living hell. Keep your mouth shut and mind your damn business, got it?” Vemini sternly demands. Síauna nervously nods. Vemini changes her intimidating demeanor to a much kinder one.

“Great! I’m glad we have an understanding. Now, get back to your spot. We don’t wanna hear Zy’onna bitching,”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OVER THERE?!” Zy’onna angrily exclaims.

“Too late,” Vemini mutters, rolling her eyes. Síauna walks with Vemini back over to the team. Síauna had to talk to Junis about this, and she needed to convince Junis to let Cassius go, or else she’s gonna get her ass beat by Vemini because her moral compass is going haywire.

Junis walks out of Dr. Lambert’s classroom, feeling a sense of confidence. Something she hasn’t felt since her brother’s passing. She doesn’t typically like interacting in class, but she enjoyed the thrill of debating and could see why Vemini wanted her to join the class.

Junis was heading towards the stairs when somebody called her name. She turns around and sees it’s the guy that she was debating earlier. She walks towards him, a small, welcoming smile on her face, matching his smile.

“Aye, I wanted to introduce myself.” He hums. Junis nods.

“My name is Xydia.” Junis smiles.

“That’s a pretty name. What does it mean?” He hums.

“I was named after the king of Egypt. King Xydia Adu.” Junis impressed hums.

“Cool.” She slightly furrows her eyebrows.

“Uhh, how do you know my name?”

“Oh! Uhhh, you cousin with Vemini, right?” Junis chuckles.

“Yeah, I am. How you know Vee— besides from class.” They share a small laugh.

“Well—uh, she hooks me up with Crystals at the Spiritual shop downtown.” Junis hums and nods.

“Sounds about right.”

“Well, I was feeling your vibe. You definitely, kept me on my toes with the debate earlier. I was wondering if maybe we could hang out sometime?” Junis shakes her head, remorseful.

“O-oohh, I’m not looking for a man.” Xydia looks at her confused, then grins.

“I ain’t trying to be your man.” Junis gasps, stunned by the response, causing Xydia to chuckle.

“Look, I ain’t mean it like that. I just wanted to vibe out with you. Maybe pick your brain a little bit?” Junis smiles softly.

“Yeah, I would like that.” Xydia smiles.

“Cool, uhhh— my phone is dead. Maybe you could write down your number, and we can make some plans?” Junis hums, nodding. Xydia rips a corner of a piece of paper off of Junis’ binder as he pulls a pen out of his pants pocket. Junis writes down her number and hands it to him,

“Aight, bet! You have pretty handwriting.” Junis blushes.

“Uh, thanks.”

“I’ll text you soon.” He says, shoving the paper in his pocket and walking away. Junis rolled her eyes to herself as her face felt the heat.

“Xydia… you’re one charismatic man…” Junis mutters to herself, heading towards the stairs.

Síauna sits at her desk, working on the rough draft of her English paper as Junis enters the dorm, cheesing. Síauna looks over and sees a happy Junis, which worries her.

“What has you smiling, Ju?”

“Well, for the first time in, like four years, I participated in class, and it felt nice,” Junis confesses. Síauna gets up and excitingly smiles.

“That’s fucking great!”

“Yeah, I know right?! And… I might’ve given my number to a guy too…” Síauna gasps, covering her mouth.

“NO! Really?!” She asks.

“Yeah, I did… But it’s nothing like a date or anything. It’s just on some friendly shit, but he’s mad cute!” Junis confesses. Síauna walks over to Junis and hugs her.

“I’m so proud of you!!!” Síauna squeals as Junis chuckles. Once Síauna pulls away, she looks at Junis, slightly confused.

“So, what about Cassius?” Junis shrugs.

“It’s time for me to let him go… I need to focus on myself. It’ll be hard for a while, but like you said, I have Vee, my mom, and you! I think I’ll make it through.” Síauna squeals again and pulls Junis in for another hug, proud of Junis for this huge step.

“I’m so proud of you, mami!” Síauna gushes. Junis pulls away from Síauna’s tight grasp.

“I’m glad, but I’ma head to the bathroom. I need to take a nice, hot shower! I have been running around all day!” Junis exclaims. Síauna nods. Junis goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Síauna wiped the fake sweat off her face. She no longer felt the pressure of knowing Cassius was cheating. But she knew that she wasn’t in the clear… Junis had to stick to word this time, and that was the part that scared her the most.

[anumberofhobbies]

Timed writing from writers group yesterday.

Oh, I'm in the mood to share what I got for our fun thing of 25 minute timed writing to provided prompts at creative writers group yesterday, Saturday.

Prompts can be from websites, lists of words we create, pictures, or other. Where these prompts came from I didn't note.

Did a little minor editing to correct mistakes made in the rush of writing to that 25 minute time limit.

-------------------------------------

Each morning for 25 years, you and one other person waited at the same bus stop for work. This was the first time they weren't there.

A double agent is assigned by both of the countries they work for to capture their alias.

You're trying to act casual in a very precarious situation.

Write a story about an author who has just started writing again for the first time in a couple of years.

A character wakes up one morning and realizes that their every move and thought is being narrated.

-----------------------------------------

“Hey Mac, you're here longer than usual.”

“Oh, hi Randy. You know that saying old habits die hard, decided to bring one up from its coma.”

“Well, the waitresses are changing shifts, anything you need while I'm out and about?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Are you sure you're good? We got key lime pies in for the season today, I was going to add them to the menu tonight.”

“Mmmm, that's a bunch of sugar, how does sugar interact with trying to focus?”

“Well, the pie is carbs, carbs are quick energy. Focusing takes energy. Therefore carbs equals better focus.”

I squinted at Randy. “Is that documentable?”

“I dunno, you're the one with the computer open. And then there's the honor that you could have the first slice of the new season. Think of the prestige!”

“Nah, even though key lime is my big weakness, I'm good.”

“Have it on me, then you can honestly claim you didn't spend money on your weakness.”

“Stop it, Randy, stop it!”

“Miracles sometimes drop from the sky, you know,” Randy smiled then headed toward the other side of the restaurant.

Soon enough later that I swear they were tag teaming, I heard Suzanne from the library, “Hey Mac, what's this one going to be?”

Suzanne, Kendra, and the gal whose name I never seem to remember, were known to pop in to Perkins after hours on Thursday nights.

Two of my titles from a decade ago were in the stacks at the library and the gals had been after me for at least the last half a decade to increase that number. Granted, it was a much enjoyed thing that my two books did actually circulate. They had neither the highest rate nor the lowest rate. It was enough that anyone wanted to read them at all.

Suzanne eased in to the booth's opposite seat.

Before she got settled Kendra called from the doorway, “Hey y'all!” and before I could engage the proper mental gears to settle on what words to employ in polite protest slid in next to Suzanne.

“Hey Kendra.” Well, seeing my cause was lost for the moment I decided to be at least somewhat personable, “What grand and glorious news was there in the library world today?”

Kendra laughed then smiled. “The most grand and glorious happening possible.”

Suzanne smiled but said nothing.

“Oh?”

“Yep,” Kendra said still smiling, “the absolutely most glorious happening possible, peaceful normality!”

I'll have to admit, she had a point. In recent weeks there had been a city water main break under the parking lot; a car go out of control and hit the building, breaking a pipe in the bathrooms; squirrels in the attic; the motor failed in the air conditioner thing outside; and who knows what else that didn't make the local paper.

==========================================

[skinnyravs]

Writing is an art form

This is a thought that came into my head the other day while at work. At work we talk about a lot of random stuff, and one of the topics of discussion is writing.

Over the years; I have been told and this is especially true from a young age; is that I was just very good at creating stories. I wont say no, coz I was. Not so much now a days because, well it happens. But i definitely did have quite the imagination.

However; getting that into words is not as easy as it seems. For some it might happen easier and for others it takes a little more time. Personally; I feel like I am right in the middle of the two. There are days; when I can just pour it all out at once, and then other times I am just stuck and it takes a few days to even put a sentence together. LOL.

I'm not even kidding about this coz I have had word documents open on my Mac for days and days. Ill see it. Stare at it and ponder if I should add anything or jsut read the same bit over and over :-p It is a habit I need to stop though and actually apply myself to write.

Then again, i don't want it to be a case of just write it for the sake of it. Coz it does still need to make sense. It still needs to have that epic moments that works all around. So half bits here and there (over the course of a few days) I feel takes this away.

In short, I really need to get myself to knuckle down more.

Work in progress!!

[manleycollins]

Journal Entry #79 - Yolonda Ann Young-Collins, My Unverified American Ex-Wife

JOURNAL ENTRY #79 Name: Manley M Collins Social Security Number: 5 7 9 – * * – 6 5 4 1 Date of Birth: 06/21 Place of Birth: Washington, District of Columbia Country of Birth: United States of America Date: July 1, 2024

TOPIC: Yolonda Ann Young-Collins, My Unverified American Ex-Wife

Yolonda and I met on BlackPlanet, then moved to Yahoo Instant Messenger. We talked when she was living with family in Maryland on the Eastern Shore area, and I was living in Washington, DC. I went to her when she was 18 and we went out, but I had to bring her back home. She was a Black woman. At that time, I did not know her heritage. We talked for a while then lost communication or it was on/off communication via texting and phone calling. Then, we saw each other again at Six Flags Over America in Maryland. Boy, my Ford Expedition has some stories to tell. Yes, we were grown folks and did it in the parking lot of Six Flags Over America. After we finished having sex, we went right into the amusement park and enjoyed ourselves. I met Julius, her best friend/cousin, and some more of her friends. This is right before she had son, Nathan.

After Yolonda, I went to Stephanie Law in Richmond, Virginia and we dated while she was still in college, but never made it to sex in her dorm room. Stephanie and I went out several times bowling, etc. Unfortunately, the storage drives and Mac mini of my pictures with Yolonda and Stephanie were taken in Chicago, Illinois. Stephanie and I broke up, I went dating with several other women mentioned in previous posts.

After my mental health breakdown and losing the house in Washington, DC, I started my doctoral program and saw that I wanted to get married so I asked Yolonda. Yolonda and I started talking again while she mentioned she had a son, Nathan, and they were in North Carolina. Yolonda stated she was returning to Maryland. Yolonda was doing North Carolina without a car and had a child. She did not have the best in life like I did, and I was spoiled by everything and everyone and every job.

However, marriage as everyone states supposed to change lives. I started comparing notes - she was black, I was black. I went to South Carolina State University. She stated she went to University of Maryland-Eastern Shore. Both schools were apart of the Mid-Eastern Athletic Conference (MEAC). I said "unverified wife" in the topic because I was naive, I never asked for the paperwork or proof of anything she said. I got engaged to her February 2010 at Ruby Tuesdays in Maryland Eastern Shore, with one-knee and ring, and all. We just actually talked. She stopped came by job at the time at Dunkin Donuts and my Washington, DC family (Grace and Tommy) living Upper Marlboro, Maryland. We had sex while she was on her period in the living room. I accepted her and her son, Nathan. But in hindsight, my mother's words did not process of what was coming.

We gave the engagement one full year before the actual event in March 2011. Again, dumb me never did a background check, credit check, or any verification of who she was and what she was. I believed on the trust of meeting her family, friends, and son was enough. I kept her contained to meet only my Washington, DC family (Tommy Jr., Grace, Grandma Gertrude, Matthew, Grandad Thomas Sr.). She never met remaining 30 states of my family on maternal or paternal side. Around February 2011, she arrived to my studio apartment 220 Allison St NW, Washington, DC with trash bags of clothes and her son, no furniture, no luggage, no money, etc., plenty of documents, but no degree or transcripts. All my stuff was organized and some boxes so no locks on anything and everything was public game. She went through my stuff and I was okay with it. We went to New York City to celebrate, such as Jay-Z's 40/40 Club and Coney Island, and stayed at the Marriott.

She left her childcare teaching position in Maryland/Delaware. I was employed by SiloSmashers and United States Department of Transportation making enough to support everybody under the roof, and pay for the wedding, reception, etc., but no honeymoon. We were making it and did a civil union at the DC Courts with her family and friends as witnesses, and my First Baptist Church of Washington, DC plus my godmother, Johnella, as witnesses, on March 18, 2011. She looked like a gorgeous queen in a David's Bridal wedding gown she selected and I paid for. Her wedding ring came from Shane and Company in Georgia. My wedding ring came from Tiffany's in New York. The wedding reception was at 701 Restaurant near the courthouse in Washington, DC. I tried something different to have her matron of honor, her sister, Alicia say some words. The food was good, but a waste of money because we used only the fraction of time and food that was bought and no refunds. She and her son had health, medical, dental, and vision benefits under AETNA, my insurance plan. No life insurance policies were taken out, but I had my standard employment insurance policy if anything happens on the job. She did disclose some of sexual health issues. I disclosed my use of latex protection and dental dams, etc. However, the latex protection came off when we wanted a child. I did not think it would happen so fast, but in the art of making love and having fun, she got pregnant according to her ovulation calendar. She was well aware of all my mental health issues and concerns. I was not totally aware of all her health issues and concerns. With the marriage, I felt the feeling of spirits and souls merging because I fully wet our futon while sleeping, and I did not know when she had her moment.

During the process, I guess the three of us making it in a studio apartment was tough. She suggested mid-lease we upgrade to a two bedroom. I kept asking her to she needs employment after the baby comes. My intuition was telling me that a major change was coming regarding my employment. She made all her appointments in which she decided to go to Washington Adventist Hospital in Maryland, when I was asking for her to go to George Washington University Hospital. I was babysitting, Nathan, whenever she wanted to go out or make her appointments during my telecommuting (work-from-home). I had a discussion with my biological father, Manley, who was accidentally left out of the engagement and marriage loop. Manley and I talked about her, and I shared a photo of her. He said, "I should have never married an ugly woman." Yolonda was already bummed in telling me how she was the black sheep of the family. I was not going to do that to her because people did not accept her. I loved her during the time we were dating, engaged, and married. She rarely cooked at home because I made enough money to order out or eat in. During the pregnancy, I made sure she had everything she needed including good sex. I did tell her after not listening that I did not want anymore children with her. However, the strong man that I was, she thought throwing her 200+ lbs against me or bearing down on me was going to hurt and same height. I was 170 lbs bench pressing 245 lbs-315 lbs regularly and all other gym movements. She was also upset I spent money on a North Face Parka for myself. In her former relationships, she had violence and sought that from me, but I was not fighting her because I was raised not to hit a woman and seeing what my mother went through her relationships, I said to myself, "Hell No," or look at Yolonda like she is crazy when she punches me. During our talks, I discovered she was Haitian.

However, my view about hitting women changed when I arrived in Boston, Massachusetts. I will beat a woman's ass if she throws the first hit. Women kept and continue to strive to become equal with men on all levels, and expect the law to fall in their favor too, but women can be awful even worse than men. I have been fighting men all my life. Again, Yolonda was hell bent on me uprooting my foundation and life for larger and more expensive space when she came with no financial resources. The good times ended when I lost my job with SiloSmashers ending in December 2011 in a company layoff. She was close to the 9-months pregnancy term. I bought the furniture for the baby arrival, and all the initial things. We, or I, made the decision that we have to eat vegetables, rice, and fish to conserve our remaining funds because unemployment is not going to be enough for anything. During my job hunt, I had two job offers - US Department of Justice (Washington, DC - 6 months contract) and Infotech (Cyient)-(Pratt and Whitney) in East Hartford, Connecticut (told over the phone it was 12 months of work). I had to speak to my biological father and therapist, and my father said take the job in Connecticut. US Department of Justice for the public trust clearance requested that I clear up the $1500 credit card debt before awarding the contract. I was stressed because I did not have enough money to take the family too Connecticut to look for job and new place. I discussed it with my wife, but she was stressed and mentioned she was never going to change. The $1500 creditor found my house number, and called her and scared her. She told me over the phone while I was in Connecticut. Yolonda did not know how I handle my financial affairs regarding debt. If she would have known, no creditor can come after a spouse separately without joint credit. Yolonda and I did not establish joint credit, yet, nor she was not on the apartment lease, yet. Around February 2012, I went to Connecticut did the interview got the job and the new place and much larger place, but when I return to Washington, DC, the apartment was cleaned out except my personal stuff. I tried to contact everyone on what happened and where did everyone go. The Metropolitan Police Department said, "If she left with the kids and everything, then she is gone and nothing I could not do about it." Yolonda did leave the Marriage Certificate in plain view so I can see, but took my United States passport and social security card. I told Tommy and Grace, and they said hire an attorney.

I never physically chased after her, but her family and maybe some of my family were harassing me at Pratt and Whitney in East Hartford, Connecticut. I was fighting with her over email. I did hire an attorney, Cooch and Taylor, out of Delaware to setup everything needed. Cooch and Taylor did their job in setting up the arrangement for visitation rights, etc., with meeting place in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She did exactly what she did with her first child, Nathan, and came after me with child support. Guess what I did? She failed on how advanced my intelligence was and calculated child support based on her last known salary from her childcare job, which still gave me 51% to 55% ownership of the child. On the visitation moments, we hardly spoke two words to each other. She did the child her way. I did the child my way. I took nothing from her. She told the attorney about my car having no child seat. I made all the court dates for everything. After she played over the phone with her first child, Nathan, when it was time to speak with my child, she still did not trust me with my own child. I used a two week summer vacation to take the child similar to what my mother did, and introduce the child to all the family (Yolonda) never met. Yes, the trip with the child started in Chicago and went to Orlando, Florida first class to Walt Disney World Amusement Parks. Again, the photos were stolen and taken during my last trip to Chicago, Illinois. I only have a few pictures left that I was fortunate to keep, but I will share later. Yolonda expected me to report her regarding the changes in my life like we were in a relationship. I did not tell her that child support payments were going to stop coming, but I told her we need to cool the visitation visits for a minute. We were friends before the relationship, married, and I saw the true her during the divorce. I disconnected all social media with Yolonda and ended my manleycollins @ yahoo account. After Connecticut and New York and my job ended with Tata Consultancy Services, a big schizophrenic voice stated go to Chicago (Harvey); in which, I did with my Disney memorabilia and my remaining things on Amtrak and through Washington, DC. I went and was arguing through email with Yolonda from Chicago, Illinois. Yolonda filed a temporary restraining order against me for trying to come after her job. What I did, I sent back all the crazy she did and about my real, biological family she did not meet, and my resume she did not see with all the security positions. On the divorce papers, it stated she left me because she was not secure enough and I made the family eat vegetables and fish. I did do several lawsuits on her to show her how much money she took without asking or taking responsibility, and I shouldered 100% financially of all her decisions all the way to the end. So, divorce certificate was awarded December 2012. Temporary restraining order was granted December 2015, and I sent it back to all her and my biological, and non-biological family. I did not speak to my biological and non-biological family until after six (6) years after the divorce, but now we going to see how long before the next call or email happens. I knew the terms of the restraining order was way done and over, but she emailed me January 13, 2022 to all my available email addresses talking about the child asking about me. I read it and blocked her or sent it to spam. I been known that was going to happen with the child. I was there and then I am not. If family history serves me right, then the child will contact me on her own around 17 or 18 years of age. Seventeen or eighteen years of age is when I contacted my biological father, Manley.

After all the losses and therapy working on myself, I told her and the court a lot of stuff that I may come back, but I changed my mind when I saw how adults work and Haitian community especially in Boston, Massachusetts without knowing anything about me. It is not the child's fault. I will not be returning to Yolonda's family for anything. My information has changed four times since the divorce and publicly available. I have full knowledge that she and the children are still in Maryland and Delaware. I am monitoring the child through legal technology and business processes without her. Despite my high sexual drive, I never cheated on her and my sexual energy was invested in Yolonda. If she wondered if I ever loved her, the answered is "Yes" and was "Yes." After the divorce, the answer to love is, "No." I do not hate or dislike Yolonda, but we are two independent people now and not friends. This is a public THANK YOU, YOLONDA for the experience. Marriage will happen again, but never this way.

Top Ten Music Playlists

All of Me - John Legend

P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing) - Michael Jackson

Chapel of Love - The Dixie Cups

Congratulations - Vesta Williams

Let's Get Married - Jagged Edge

Fly - Nicki Minaj featuring Rihanna

Until the End of Time - Justin Timberlake

Ego - Beyonce

Promise - Ciara

Love - Musiq Soulchild

[the-firebird69]

This appeared on a gross website and a document this kind of stuff now they're just posting it. My son knew some of these people our son. And our daughter and she says it too I know some of them by name and they went out there it was the '80s and he recognized the guy up front on the right and the funny looking guy it looks like he's awake and okay and he looks like a cork behind the shriveled up Cork on the right and sort of recognize the lady somehow and she says she knows who they were and it's a crew from New York and they had come down because Heidi and Lou were kicked out and they were sitting there digging with her her husband or son like Non-Stop and he said that Max did something it's time for them to grow up and they decided to try to figure it out and they did and he said you're probably should put it on the flight recorder so they're using signals and they're saying what happened and the recording was picked up by Trump and he has it and it says I didn't notice much of it and he didn't so he went to look at it today and he said oh my God and it says all sorts of things if you drop it and it's someone clear they'll pick it up and use it and blame you and tons of stuff like that and blaming these guys I mean there's a huge amount of things they were signaling and they knew why they were getting get hit and they put it up there and he looked at about 75% of it and it took notes and it didn't send it out but we know we knew like 30 to 40% of these people and they liked my husband and he likes hanging out with them and it's a sad day to find where they went and they threw them down there you guys revived this jet and then they force you to turn into a prison jet then you try to trick them and take their money and Utah and yeah this is Con Air and that's why they call it Conair.

Apparently Big Daddy got the idea

Hera

Zues

And we see this is going to be awful and I have the code a lot of it's what they said he asked them to do it he said we're going to try and send help and we did pull the plane out and they were gone and very gone some of them the body was completely gone and they were just remnants and crab stuff

Trump

Okay so we understand and it's about Mac proper so we want to see it if you could hand it to us after and he says maybe and I might get them in trouble my grand nephew says so he's going to go try and get it to me

Mac

Olympus

I'd like to say a word this is stressful for them and you guys are stressed too so please have some respect for them a little and we mean your friends we will see here

Thor Freya

We're going to do that

Bja

[333333333433333]

[ darciewilder [at] gmail ]

Online

Gawker: My Pet Skunk

Netflix’s Queue Magazine: Down the Rabbit Hole with Natasha Lyonne 21of21 Google Shopping x Paper: Herding Sheep, Don’t Text

The Outline:  Weekly Columns

New York Times:

I Will Die in This Beautiful Place

How to Say ‘No’ This Holiday Season

The Impolite Pleasure of People-Watching

MTV News: Mac DeMarco: Still Chill After All These Years

Elle: Everyone at Vaquera’s School-Themed Show Would Have Gotten a Dress Code Violation

The Cut: I Think About This a Lot: The Golden Girls Plotline Where Rose Is Addicted to Pills

literally show me a healthy person

buy here and probably available elsewhere as well

Tyrant Books, Spring 2017

Darcie Wilder’s literally show me a healthy person is a careful confession soaking in saltwater, a size B control top jet black pantyhose dragged over a skinned knee and slipped into unlaced Doc Martens. Blurring the lines of the written word, literally show me a healthy person is a portrait of a young girl, or woman, or something; grappling with the immediate and seemingly endless urge to document and describe herself and the world around her. Dealing with the aftermath of her mother’s death, her father’s neglect, and the chaotic unspoken expectations around her, this novel is a beating heart at the intersection of literature, poetry, and the internet. Darcie Wilder elevates and applies direct pressure, but the wound never stops bleeding.

Blurbs here. Publication date: April 3, 2017

Flagged and Removed

October 2014  

Flagged and Removed is a collection of poetry, short stories, and flash fiction masquerading as online classified ads. Darcie Wilder wrote the collection in New York between 2013 and 2014, including 11 Reptiles.

Print Only

Alt Citizen, Logue Magazine, Selfish

[kaisarion-tactical]

Possession Date

Kit buys a house and meets a ghost. 1400 words

“Alright, Mr. Kit. Just need you to sign here, here, and here; initial there, there, there and there; and... that's it!” A long French tipped nail pointed at various places on the page, only moving once Kit had affixed his signature or initials as required. 

Once finished he set the pen on the desk and the bubbly real estate agent beamed at him. “Congratulations on the purchase of your new home!” Her smile slipped momentarily. “Oh! I’m so sorry. There’s one more thing that requires your signature. One moment.” 

She fussed about on her computer before disappearing from the room to grab whatever it was from the copier. Kit sat back in his chair, taking in the room as he waited. Even though he’d been there several times during the purchase phase, there was always something new to catch his attention. 

The office wasn’t particularly exciting. It was painted a neutral beige, edging towards a latte colour. There was tasteful wainscotting around the bottom of the wall, and some contemporary art to give the room a bit of personality without being too bland; but it was overall as generic as any real estate office Kit had ever been in. The desk was oak laminate and had a large Mac computer on it, the stark white of the mouse and keyboard feeling too modern against the dark wood.

The click of heels on laminate flooring signaled the agent’s return and she slid into her chair with a soft huff, her wide, impossibly bright smile still locked in place. She tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear.

“Sorry about that.” Taking the purchase agreement from Kit she set another sheet of paper in front of him. “This is just a waiver that you acknowledge that the house had a death occur there and that you release the former owners of any responsibility for issues you might have with the house in regard to that.” Her smile flagged slightly at the corners, a shadow crossing her face briefly. She swallowed, and then her realtor smile was back in place.“Standard stuff. Just sign and date at the bottom there, and then we’re all done!”

Kit signed and dated on the line above where his name - VINCENT KIT - stood out in bold black letters against the stark white paper and slid the document across the desk. He watched as the realtor signed and dated at the bottom as well before adding the document to the back of the purchase agreement.

It was still a couple weeks before he’d get the keys. While he’d agreed to a very short escrow period, knowing that there likely wouldn’t be any fall through with the agreement, there was still a short waiting period while all the legal pieces were finalized. 

From the realtor’s office he drove by the house, not for any reason other than just to look. It was early spring, but still cool enough that a thin layer of snow lingered on the grass and along the sidewalk. Backlit by the late afternoon sun the house stood imposingly with its red brick exterior, white window frames with their black shutters. The three dormers on the upper floor staring impassively out at the street below. 

Like empty eyes, Kit thought. Nobody’s home.

Something caught Kit’s eye inside the house and he blinked several times, peering closer through the passenger window at the lower floor where he was certain he’d seen something – someone – pass through the room.

The house had been empty for months now, and there was no way there could be anyone inside, unless they’d broken in and were squatting. The idea of dealing with a squatter twisted Kit’s mouth into a frown. Turning off the car, he got out, cautiously approaching the house. It was dark inside, as it should be. The windows were too high for his small frame to see inside, but that didn’t stop him from making a circuit around the house at a distance enough to let him peek inside from an angle. 

Once around, then twice, and no movement like what he’d seen from the car. 

Maybe his eyes were just playing tricks on him.

He smoothed a hand through his hair and pulled his powder blue peacoat a bit tighter to himself as he returned to the car, giving the house one last glance before pulling out onto the road and returning home.

---

Two weeks passed in a rush of preparation, and soon enough Kit was on the stoop of the house with the smiling realtor as she set the keys to the house into his waiting palm.

“Congratulations, again,” she said, although the enthusiasm in her words was less than when he’d put ink to paper.

“Thanks,” he said, giving her a polite nod. 

She clicked down the walk to her car, and Kit turned, slipping the key into the lock and entering the house for the first time as owner.

It was a stunning house that he’d gotten for a steal. 

When he’d read about the murder, he’d put his sights on it immediately for purchase, hiring a realtor before the house was even on the market, asking to be notified the moment it did. 

It’s not that he believed in ghosts, necessarily, but something about the murder, about the woman who had died… He felt some pull to protect her for reasons he didn’t quite understand and wasn’t prepared to question. If some soulless property developer, or even some renovation happy flippers had gotten their hands on the house he could only imagine what damage they would have caused. The interior of the house, while beautiful, had seen better days, and would require a good amount of work to repair to his satisfaction.

His footsteps echoed against the hardwood floors, creaking in places as he moved through the house. There were four good-sized bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a well laid out kitchen, living room, dining room, attic and a basement.

As he moved through the living room, there was a soft creak behind him, as though someone had walked over the same creaking spot Kit had just walked across, and he turned on his heel, looking for the source of the noise. But there was no one there, and other than the click of his shoes against the floor, the house was silent. 

“Hello?” Kit offered cautiously, not expecting an answer and certainly not sure that he wanted one.

Something brushed his arm, and he spun again, looking for the source. 

“Is someone there?” He was certain he hadn’t imagined the touch.

Another squeak of the floor further ahead. He followed it into the kitchen, eyes flickering around the room for any sign of movement. 

More nothing.

“I’m losing my mind,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. 

There was another brush against his arm and he froze. He thought he could see something out of the corner of his eye. Something… vaguely human. Tall. A reflection in a window like a mirage. Definitely, probably human.

“Hello?” he said again, this time hoping for some kind of an answer. There was another soft brush against his arm and he let out a shaky breath as his heart hammered in his chest. “Okay. I’m not losing my mind, then.”

Kit wasn’t sure what to do with the confirmation that the house was haunted, or at least temporarily occupied by something. At the very least it validated his wild decision to buy the house as soon as conceivably possible. 

“Are you… Eisley?” he hedged. 

There was nothing for a long moment, but the temperature in the room became uncomfortably warm. How was he supposed to interpret that? Hot for yes, cold for no?

“Is that a yes?”

The temperature rose another few degrees, and Kit tugged at his shirt to get some air against heated skin. 

Okay. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Eisley,” he said. “I’m Kit.” There was another soft brush against his arm and he allowed a small smile. 

The house was definitely haunted. The ghost was more than likely that of the woman who had recently died there. She didn’t seem… malevolent. She was certainly active, though. How that would translate to other people living in the house he wasn’t sure, but he decided he would deal with it when it became an issue and not before. 

[collegeafricagroup33]

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