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kurodachimagic · 3 years

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Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 1

Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.

Rating: Pg 13

Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.

Word count: 6.2k

A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you @hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now. Thank you to @schnaf for being a great friend and beta!

Read on ao3

Adachi dragged his feet on the pavement as he made his way home from work. He was already too exhausted to start his writing day with the best mindset but it would have to do. He’d already skipped four days this week and if he didn’t actually sit down to work on his book, it would never be published. He let out a deep sigh and shook his head slightly.

The situation was not ideal by any means, he was not great at cooking and it was already too late to start dinner, but he definitely needed to eat something or his mind would absolutely quit on him, he knew that much.

Adachi knew he should probably get something healthier but he refused to waste even more time walking to the store, so he decided to stop by the food cart near his flat for his usual emergency menu: two tuna onigiris with mayo - along with a can of soda in the hopes that the caffeine would boost his creativity. He was not too happy about it, but he didn’t have much time to contemplate his choice because as soon as he had paid, the first few droplets of water hit his shoulders. Looking up, he felt the next few drops hit his nose and his forehead. He cursed inwardly and simply took off awkwardly running the last few blocks home, trying his best not to slip and fall, his dress shoes nothing but a hazard in this particular situation.

The building door was so close, he could see it through the pouring rain; just a few meters and he would be home. Adachi rushed, his hand extended already to grab at the door handle when his body collided with something - someone - and fell backwards. It was as if time had slowed down; he could see the face of the person he ran into frozen in shock, his eyes widening as he saw Adachi falling, while Adachi could only think about the pain this would cause him, physical, yes, but mostly emotional. He always managed to get himself in embarrassing situations and now -

His neighbour extended his hand just in time to catch Adachi’s and pulled him upright effortlessly, his expression switching from shock to a relieved smile. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry, I hadn’t seen you.”

“Thank you! I’m so sorry,” Adachi said, feeling the heat rise to his face, partly because of his clumsiness and partly because his neighbour had not let go of him yet. In fact, Adachi could have sworn that the guy was rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand. He didn’t know what to do, so he tried again. “Uh, sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s ok, I’m glad that you didn’t get hurt.” The man seemed to suddenly remember they were standing in the pouring rain and pulled Adachi to the door. “Come, you’ll catch a cold in this weather.”

No matter how hard he thought, Adachi couldn't remember ever catching his name but he had seen this man before in the elevator and in some of the common areas. He seemed to be a bit of a recluse, much like himself.

The man opened the door and finally let go of his hand before ushering him in. “After you, Adachi.”

Adachi’s eyes widened; he didn't know how the man knew his name, but he didn’t mention it. He walked inside and called the elevator, followed closely by his saviour. Once the doors opened, he stepped in and turned around, pressing the button for the fifth floor and finally facing the man. "Thank you, again…" he trailed off.

"Kurosawa. My name is Kurosawa." He pressed the fourth-floor button.

Adachi smiled and bowed to him. "It was nice seeing you, Kurosawa. Have a good night."

The elevator dinged and Kurosawa bowed with a smile before exiting. “Good night, Adachi,” he waved.

Adachi hesitantly waved back as the elevator doors closed. Before he knew it he was one floor up, opening the door to his flat, throwing his work bag on the sofa and taking his wet clothes off with a groan before going to the bathroom.

What a day. Not only had he stayed late to finish on that project Urabe had handed to him but he also made himself look like a fool in front of his very cool neighbour, and to add insult to injury now he needed a hot shower to hopefully avoid catching a cold. He shook his head and hopped under the stream, washing himself thoroughly and letting the hot stream relax his muscles.

Feeling in a bit of a better mood, Adachi got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and went about getting into a comfy set of pyjamas. He finally sat at his desk and opened the white doc of doom, checking the time and cursing as he realized it was 9 pm already. He slouched in his chair, throwing his head back with a groan. This book was going to take a million years at this rate, he really needed to prioritize his schedule, put on some good hours into it each day, especially during the weekend, he needed to -

Adachi’s stomach growled loudly, reminding him that his emergency dinner laid abandoned in its bag. He got up and stomped over to the sofa, unwrapping the onigiris and eating them without so much as a thought before returning to his spot. He promptly sat down to continue with the daily task of staring at the document while he begged his brain to type something - anything - out. But his mind had other plans though, Kurosawa’s face and gentle smile kept popping in his mind. Maybe it was because of the way he moved, how he had kept him from falling with his sharp reflexes, or maybe it was how elegant he looked even when he was soaking wet, how well his suit fitted him. Kurosawa was like some sort of superhero, or… no, he was more like a Prince Charming from an epic battle world. That was a start - it was not the murder mystery he had thought about, but it was definitely a start.

The sound of Adachi’s footsteps worked like a metronome, helping his mind settle into a rhythm. He was starting to see things in more detail: The brave prince paced in his castle, his sword close by his side, the problems his kingdom was facing were almost too much to bear and with his father on the brink of death, it was all on him. A shadow appeared above the citadel - the… the… ‘kingdom x’ was being attacked by a three-headed dragon. How would he fix this and save his people? Had someone sent the dragon or did it act with free will? Did the soon-to-be king have secret magic powers? Maybe they were a secret even to himself!

With renewed energy and excitement, Adachi sat down to work. This new world just wanted to be written, to become a reality, and he was not going to stop it. Aided by the occasional sip of soda and a few “stretching breaks” that were more like actual pacing, he managed to draft four thousand words by 5 am, effectively breaking his 3 thousand word record from just a few months ago. If he could keep up the pace he could finish the book within the next month and send it to Tsuge for editing and review. He sent a quick text to his friend to tell him the good news and got into bed; he would probably regret staying up so late tomorrow, but now he didn’t have it in him to care. Writing was definitely his call - even if he was very close to missing his goal of being a published author by 30.

---

The commute to work was nothing short of hell. The morning started with Adachi missing his usual train and having to take the next one during rush hour - not that he ever managed to avoid rush hour, but he usually took the first train during it so it wasn’t as crazy as later in the morning. This resulted in him having a very unpleasant ride, squeezed half to death between the sea of people, feeling like a canned sardine with a bad case of insomnia. That was the other issue, the previous writing night ended up being a success but even though he’d been exhausted by the time he was done, it had been impossible to fall asleep. Now he was on his way to a long workday with a pounding headache and a sour mood. If given the opportunity, Adachi would’ve chosen to take the day off to sleep and feel refreshed enough by sundown to continue writing.

His job was definitely a necessary evil, but sometimes he couldn’t help but resent it. On the verge of thirty, Adachi spent most of his day at the office, writing his reports, Urabe’s reports, and occasionally picking up the slack of some of his colleagues. There was barely any time for hobbies or relaxing and least of all to be an aspiring writer. To be completely honest, Adachi had started viewing his day job as his second career in the past year. His heart and soul were focused on his new goal, what he really wanted. In the end, if writing didn’t become his main income, it wouldn’t matter, he was passionate enough about it to continue no matter what. After all, living in the fantasy worlds he created was more than enough for him.

Adachi made it to his desk just on time, but running those last few blocks only served to make his mood even sourer. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with a small huff, still thinking about his writing and leaned back in his chair until it touched Urabe’s shoulder, startling him.

He turned around swiftly, blush already rising to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Senpai.”

Urabe nodded and waved him off. Then, he cocked his head and looked at Adachi in more detail. “What is going on with you, Adachi? You look tired.”

“I just had trouble sleeping last night, that’s all,” Adachi said with a heavy sigh. He could picture so many things he would rather do than give explanations about his personal life, but he would feel too guilty if he was rude to Urabe when he was only worried about him.

“Hmm, are you sure that’s all?”

“Yes. I’m ok.” He attempted his best smile. “Thank you for asking.”

“Adachi,” Urabe pouted, his brows burrowed into a childish frown, just like every time he would ask Adachi to take on more work, any semblance of concern already gone out the window. “Can you finish this report for tomorrow? The boss is really piling stuff on my shoulders and I already had other plans for today.”

Sometimes Adachi wished he was a bad person, or a bad colleague even, but he couldn’t help taking on the extra work when it was needed, after all, he didn’t have much of a life. He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, wait. Is your birthday today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“And you’re turning 30, right?”

Adachi nodded once again, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible; he didn’t want to be reminded of the passage of time or how much he hadn’t achieved by now.

Urabe rolled his chair closer and elbowed him. “Aaah, you sly weasel. Do you have a date?”

“Of course not. I’m just looking forward to getting home and sleeping.” That was literally his birthday plan.

Urabe frowned and gave him a quizzical look. “But you have... ‘dated’ before, right?” He winked.

Adachi shook his head slightly and saw the same look many people gave him, a mix of pity and judgement.

“You should ask one of the girls out. I’ve heard Yui is single and she’s very pretty!”

Adachi slowly turned his chair towards the copy machine and saw Yui across the room. She was, in fact, very pretty, but… she didn’t spark anything in him. She looked like a work of art, pleasant to look at, but not for him. “No, I don’t think that would work.”

“Adachi, if you don’t date someone by the time you turn 30, you will turn into a wizard!” He whispered.

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s true, you’ll see!”

Adachi rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk, finally starting on the reports needed. The sooner he was done with that, the sooner he could return to his writing.

The elevator opened its doors for Adachi and the ding that followed made his muscles relax instantly. Only a few more minutes and he would be up in his flat, taking his shoes off and cooking something quick before sitting down to write. He felt inspired by the beginning of this new story and he wasn’t about to let a bad day at work ruin that for him.

Just as the doors started to close, someone put a bag between them to keep them open. The first thing Adachi saw was a girl with a cute and gentle look, a black wispy fringe framing her face and a sweet smile. She nodded at Adachi and he smiled and nodded back. He wondered if he would ever date a girl like her, if sharing his life with a partner and doing things together would be so different than what he did now. The answer was probably not, since he assumed nobody would be supportive of him working all day and writing all night; if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really have time for a relationship, even if he sometimes yearned for a bit of company - theoretically. Adachi blinked repeatedly, suddenly crashing back into reality when he saw the looming presence of Kurosawa behind her, giving him a weird look he couldn’t quite place as he ushered the girl into the elevator.

Out of sheer awkwardness, Adachi nodded and mumbled a quiet hello at him, looking away as a blush crept onto his cheeks. Was that Kurosawa’s girlfriend? He groaned and let his head fall back against the elevator wall. He’d been caught staring at his neighbour’s girlfriend like a creep. He ventured a sideways glance and realized Kurosawa was still looking at him with a weird expression.

Thankfully, the ride was short and only a minute later, Adachi was home, barely paying any attention to his basic needs as per usual. He made some instant ramen and added a bit of egg to it before eating it mindlessly, daydreaming of his new story and the magic system involved.

Perhaps it was quickly becoming a much more ambitious project than he had anticipated but as long as the writing flowed, everything would be ok. What was supposed to be a long writing session soon turned into an early night after Adachi’s brain decided to shut down mid-sentence, putting him to sleep sitting at his desk, his head hanging down and his spine hunched over.

#cherry magic #cherry magic fic #mine

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

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okay it's getting late and i'm only just finished with chapter 6- but quil best writer award when???

seriously though i haven't been invested in kotlc in a short while because of other stuff and the lack of new official content, but dang- this is really good- it's like a full book! like full- with the storyline, and the wording, and the development! i checked the wordcount before i started reading- and quil... you WROTE A WHOLE BOOK?! you're still writing a book!

I just- wow!

anyways i'll be back to finish this in the next few days, but i'm super excited to catch up and i'm super excited for dragon wings marella lol

i think you should know that every time I answer one of these I have to pull up the chapter you're talking about in a different tab because i never remember what happens in each one. You probably know what happens in the first chapters better than I do tbh, which I think is hilarious. but back to what you're saying

"quil best writer award when." I'm. I am floored. I am speechless. I am so flattered. this is such high praise!! i am just a funky little guy writing some funky little words!! I feel I must confess this: I actually hardly edit the au at all. ever. when I say I'm "editing" I actually mean "I'm reading it once to see if there's obvious things wrong or things I want to explain more" but that's it. every chapter has just been a first draft, go with the flow kinda thing. and yet!! here we are!! I don't even know what i'd do with a best writer award--probably put it next to the new dragon on my bookshelf so they could vibe. I don't know if what i'm saying makes any sense, but ahh!! thank you!!

I will single-handedly rebuild the fandom during this content drought and reel you all back in with my novel-length fanfiction /j. okay but honestly the wings au is probably gonna turn out to be like...actually fantasy-novel length at this rate. like a published novel. but thank you so much--the storyline was one of the things I was hesitant about when i first published it, because I essentially just went "hey. remember those eight and a half novels and all their worldbuilding? forget almost everything. i've broken it into pieces and we're starting over." but you all have been overwhelmingly kind and supportive of all the changes and the way i've incorporated their old world into this new one I broke. and the wording! I try to stay true to some of Shannon's style, as sometimes when a fanfic author has a style too different from the original media it can feel weird and less like the characters (not always! there are several fics out there with very unique writing styles that don't feel strange at all, this is just something I've personally noticed). But, shannon is also writing for middle grade, and I wanted to add my own personal twist instead of just using her voice. so there's some things of my own that I do (most noticeable is the intentional misuse of grammar for drama, probably, but I am curious what else you all notice that's unique to me) and don't do (I don't think i've used "corrected" as a dialogue tag more than a handful of times) to separate it. and then the development! a lot of development in canon rn has to do with romantic relationships, as we're focusing on the aftermath of sophitz and a focus on sophie and keefe, but we can't separate them from their tension and denial at the moment. I think there's a lot more to them we don't get to see because of it, so I'm trying to develop some of that in the wings au (and there's some characters I just haven't gotten to yet, like Wylie and Maruca, so I'm not ignoring them, dw)

and yes! I am still basically writing a book! at this point I should design a cover for it too...I wonder what would be on it, the parts that stand out the most in the story that I should symbolize it all in one image. but before I get to that I should continue writing the story I suppose! I'm currently maybe 40% (rough estimate) of the way through writing chapter 13, but I must admit my classes do make it annoying at times, taking up more time than I would like (this is what I get for taking more classes than I strictly needed to. I do not know how to take a break when it comes to education /lh). but that's not important rn

you sent this a few days ago, so I don't know if you've finished your reread/catch-up since then, but if you did I hope you enjoyed it!! if you haven't then I hope you will enjoy if you ever do read the rest! there's about a week before the next chapter comes out, which is around 8.1k words at the moment (same length as the last one), so if you are caught up then there's even more to look forward to soon! and i'll probably post the first snippet from chapter 12 tomorrow, as I usually do that the sunday before posting day.

dragon wings Marella owns my entire heart and i'm very excited to do more with her (was actually writing about her earlier today!).

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deardragonbook · 3 years

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A quick life update

So, I came onto to Tumblr today to edit some of my drafts (I currently have 13) and throw them into the queue. It’s the first time I’ve allowed my queue to go down to zero in a while so I thought I’d take advantage of this moment to give you all a quick update of where I’m at.

So, still managing the daily uploads! I thought with uni it’d be harder but I’ve managed to stay on top of things for now.

However, it’s worth mentioning this week will be my last week of just uni, because from next week as well as uni I have a paid internship (it’s for a research center specialising in ethical economics and I’m so amazed that I have been given this opportunity!) but of course that’s going to take a lot of time away.

Currently I have 13 drafts, plus several ideas, including a post about covers and the process I had, one about your character’s outfits, a couple of list ideas... trust me, ideas aren’t my missing resource.

I’m really happy to see my followers and interactions are slowly growing here on Tumblr, but as an author who has to prioritise self-promotion, if I have to prioritise a daily upload it’s got to be on TikTok (because it’s the bigger site and people are more often moved to action, don’t ask why, social media magic is it’s own kind of witchcraft).

My story Oppida Institute for Reformation still hasn’t missed an upload, but I don’t have tomorrows chapter ready, so after twenty three weeks tomorrow might be my first miss. Just know I’m not abandoning it and it will get there soon. Again, priorities.

Sales for the first book have staggered, as expected, haven’t sold a copy in about three weeks, haven’t had any unlimited reads in two. But I have received my first ratings which is very exciting!

I had my first beta reader to finish the entire second book and I definitely have to touch up the beginning a little to help newer readers, but she really enjoyed it other than that and it was a huge boost in confidence!

Especially her pointing out in several occasions how much she love done of my own fave characters who I wasn’t sure would resonate with others. Or being told my protagonist is a well done balance between strong, feminine with complex emotions, the way she said it almost bought me to tears, I was so happy.

A lot of beta readers straight up haven’t shown up yet, so I’ll probably be searching for a couple more soon because otherwise it’s going to be really difficult for me to do a summer 2022 release like I plan. But, goals will be goals.

I think that’s all.

Sorry if this came out a bit rambly, or if it came out on the less positive motivated side, I’m extremely tired so things are what they are.

I’m not going to edit this post as it’s not advice, it’s just... update.

But things are really cool right now, I’m really enjoying writing about writing. I’m looking forward to having time to read a bit more, looking for having the money to support fellow indie authors, looking forward to a lot of things, some will come sooner than others, but that’s always the way.

As usual, check out my socials and book here.

How are you doing? I hope you have time to write or at the very least read. But if not, I hope it’s because everything is going really well and that’s keeping you busy. If still not, I hope things calm down soon. I wish you the best of luck, and remember, life is full if ups and downs but, even lightning strikes can be beautiful and the calm comes both before and after the storm.

#rambling #ramblings #lifeupdate #life update #author life #author #authors #indieauthor

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paradisobound · 6 years

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I Want It, I Got It: Chapter 11

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie staring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Word Count: 2.2k (this chapter)

Warnings: Occasional swearing and mentions of sex

Rating: Mature (for right now)

Updates will be every Wednesday at 4pm and Sunday at 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3**

For Phil, clicking publish on his video was, undoubtedly, one of the hardest things he has had to do in a long time. He spent the evening editing the video with Dan watching from the sidelines to get a better look at what editing was really like. And when he was done, he processed it to his YouTube page and waited to publish it.

But now it was ready, he felt his chest tighten. This was a big deal. This was a big deal because this video was the first one he posted in…6 years? Had it really been that long?

He was nervous for the comeback.

He was nervous for the comments, the tweets and for everything else that is going to come out when everyone sees Dan in the thumbnail. He was nervous for the queued tweet that he has ready to go saying “NOT CLICKBAIT. NEW VIDEO FEATURING DANIEL HOWELL”.

“I’m not sure about this.”

Dan looked at where Phil’s finger was poised over the trackpad. “Not sure about what?”

“About posting the video.” Phil said, his hand now beginning to shake slightly.

He turned his head and looked at Dan, trying to ignore that he saw a little bit of disappointment behind his eyes. “You don’t have to post it if you don’t want to.”

“I…I know.” Phil said, his voice quivering. “I think I’m just nervous.”

Phil looked back at the screen and watched his mouse hover over the button. He shouldn’t be this nervous. Maybe if it was just a video of himself, he wouldn’t be. But surely just knowing Dan was in the video shouldn’t be the only reason why he’s nervous?

He pressed his fingers down and the video went live.

He felt all air escape his lungs and looked over at Dan was smiling. “Send me the link and I’ll post it on my Twitter.”

Phil quickly copied the link with shaking hands and then sent it to Dan. As soon as Dan tweeted out the link, Phil shut his laptop down and took a few stuttering breaths. He needed to relax and to calm down. There was no point in getting worked up over something that he couldn’t really change anymore…well, he could. But hypothetically he couldn’t.

He tweeted out the same tweet he had queued in his drafts and then he retweeted Dan’s tweet and then sat back, staring at his phone. He shouldn’t have been surprised at how his name was trending. Nor should he have been surprised at the amount of follow requests he received as well.

He accepted none of them and closed the app, turning off his notifications for Twitter so he wouldn’t have to see them.

“I have to fly back to LA tomorrow morning.” Dan says, out of the blue, as they remained sat on Phil’s couch. “Filming begins again tomorrow night. I have to catch a plane at half past 6 tomorrow morning.”

Phil couldn’t help but feel the pang in his chest from Dan’s words. “So soon?” He found himself asking.

Dan let out a sigh. “Unfortunately.” He paused. “Tomorrow I get to film a sex scene.”

Phil quickly turned his head. “A sex scene?”

Dan nodded. “Yes, with Mimei.”

“That sounds…awkward?” Phil asked, finding himself chuckle.

“Oh it’s going to be incredibly awkward.” Dan said with a loud laugh. “Not only is it a sex scene which like, don’t get me wrong, I love having sex, but not staged sex? And even though this is obviously not sex and we’ll not be actually fornicating, the thought that I have to go through the motions completely staged is a little bit repulsing.”

“I don’t think I could do it.” Phil answered truthfully. “I’m awkward enough about life in general. I can’t imagine having to fake have sex with a person while being filmed.”

“I’ve done it before.” Dan says, his eyes staring straight ahead. “It was for an Indie Movie that I did prior to me becoming famous. It was with my ex-boyfriend.”

Dan swallowed and then continued. “It wasn’t bad? But that could have also been because we were used to having sex anyway so staging it wasn’t quite that hard to do.”

“I don’t think I could ever do it.” Phil repeats.

“I think it would be less awkward for me if it wasn’t with a Mimei.” Dan says. “Like, if it was with a guy, I think I’d be better off.”

Phil was a little bit taken back by the openness of this conversation he was having with Dan. He wasn’t expecting for Dan to openly be speaking to sex about him. It was a little bit dizzying given all of the circumstances of today.

“Oh same.” Phil found himself choking out.

“Oh?” Dan says, a smile playing on his lips.

“I just prefer to have sex with guys.”

Phil felt like he was choking on his own air. He was having trouble registering in his mind that he had just come out to Dan. Not directly, but he still kind of did. And it was a big deal. It was a massive deal, actually. Because up until him telling this to Dan, his family and PJ and Sophie were the only ones who knew about his sexuality.

“You probably already knew about me.” Dan says. “And my preference over who I like.”

Phil feels slightly embarrassed and ashamed. He had read about it on Wikipedia, that sensitive information not even hidden from the public, but plastered onto this website with millions of visitors a day.

“I’m sorry that you don’t get to have privacy anymore.”

Dan shrugs. It’s a genuine shrug, not one that is just blowing off what Phil had said. “At least my sex tape hasn’t been released.”

Phil’s eyes bug out of his head and Dan’s lets out a loud laugh.

“I’m kidding mate. I don’t have a sex tape…or at least I don’t think I do.”

***

To say the video went viral was an understatement by far. Within just the first ten hours, the video already had 3 million views and was growing by the second. News sites were writing stories about the video and about Dan being in it, of course Phil was mentioned as well but a lot more sparingly.

Phil could see now what it felt like to have people saying your name in every news story or in every twitter mention. He couldn’t even keep up with all of the people requesting to follow him so, unwillingly, he unprivated his Twitter and let the follows happen. He went from just under 30k followers to almost 100k in the first three hours. By the next morning, he had nearly 350k followers, all of which were from Dan.

It was overwhelming. He was overwhelmed.

Dan knew that though. Which is why Dan suggested they order out from some greasy food place and indulge their feelings in some plastic tasting pizza. Phil never ordered Dominos, but he had to admit that it tasted good on his palette and was definitely a comfort food.

Spike already appreciated having bites of sausage given to him as well as he sat on Phil’s feet.

“So your video went viral.” Dan says, between bites of pizza and whatever dipping sauce he was using. “Not gonna lie, didn’t quite expect that to happen.”

“Me neither.” Phil answered honestly. “My channel is growing and my Twitter is as well. I’m scared to go into the comments.”

“How did you learn to edit?”

The fast change in topic gave Phil a little bit of whiplash but he recovered fast. He rather enjoyed being able to answer questions about how he learned to do YouTube or how he learned his video editing skills, even if they are a bit rusty.

“I got a masters degree is video editing and post production from the University of York.” He says. “I never really used it unless I was doing videos. I wanted to be a director for a little while, but I knew it wasn’t a realistic dream so that’s why I did YouTube. But I got hired at the BBC by pure luck and I haven’t really gotten a chance to use those skills.”

“That’s really cool actually.” Dan says, setting down his slice of pizza back onto his plate. “I’ve never been allowed in the editing room of a movie, not even when I did Indie Films in high school. But I’ve always wanted to know what the process was like. Like being able to chose the frames you want or the takes you want. Sometimes when I attend my movie premieres and I watch the films, I get mad that the editor chose to use my bad takes or my bad sides and I wish I had a bit more control over it.”

“You don’t have a bad side.”

When Phil caught wind of the words leaving his mouth, he looked up from his own plate, and stared at Dan. His cheeks were flushed red and he was holding his lips in a thin line, almost to keep himself from smiling. Phil wished he would give in and just smile.

“That’s not true.”

“No it is true.” Phil continues, his mouth just moving without his control over what was being said. “It is true because…”

He’s destined to never finish that sentence because Dan’s phone begins to ring loudly on the counter, interrupting them with the shrill sound of the default phone ring.

Dan grabs his phone and answers it, abruptly leaving his pizza behind to cool on the plate.

Phil lets out a loud sigh and looks down at Spike who is whimpering for another table scrap at his feet. He just nods and picks off a piece of pepperoni and hands it to Spike with a sad chuckle.

“I’d like to think you’re whimpering at the secondhand embarrassment but I know you just want more food.” Phil whispers, scratching behind Spikes ear. “To be fair, I didn’t even know what I was going to say anyway. This was probably for the best.”

Phil remained sitting in the kitchen while he heard the telltale footsteps of Dan pacing back and forth somewhere down the short hallway towards the bathroom. He couldn’t make out anything Dan was saying, but he actually didn’t want to. It always felt like a weird breach of privacy to listen to someone else’s phone conversation.

When Dan returns, his face is flustered and his shoulders are tense. He slides back into his sit and picks at his pizza slice haphazardly with his fingers. “Marianne, my manager, just called. She said doing the video was a bad PR move. I don’t see how but she’s really mad.”

Phil felt his heart fall out his chest. He knew that he shouldn’t have posted the video. He knew it!

“I’m sorry. I knew we shouldn’t have posted it.”

Dan shook his head. “No, I’m not mad that we posted it. I’m just…I want to do things that I want to do. I wanted to do the video with you. I wanted to be a part of it. I don’t understand how it’s a bad PR move but whatever.”

Phil could sense the frustration in Dan’s voice and when he looked at Dan, he could see the beginnings of unshed tears glazing his eyes. Dan sniffled, confirming Phil’s thoughts, and as soon as the first tear made way down Dan’s cheek, Phil immediately thrusted a bunch of napkins to him to help.

Dan wiped his eyes and refused to make eye-contact with Phil. Phil felt his heart clench every time Dan sniffled and wiped at his eyes. He watched as the tears slowly stopped and all that was left was Dan’s bloodshot eyes in their wake.

“I’m sorry.” Dan apologizes. “I just get really overwhelmed.”

“You have every right to be upset, Dan.” Phil says. His hand reaches out and suddenly, it’s laying on top of Dan’s arm, his fingers laying into the fuzzy fabric of his sweater. “You should be able to do what you want to do.”

“It’s pretty ironic.” Dan says with a laugh. “Just this morning, I was giving you the same talk and now you’re sitting here and giving me it.”

Phil did have to admit it was pretty ironic, but that didn’t make the situation any less complicated or hurtful for either one of them.

“I think I need some time to myself.” Dan said, suddenly standing up. “Do you mind if I…”

“You can lay down in my bedroom if you’d like.” Phil said, letting his hand fall from Dan’s arm to the counter. “I don’t mind.”

“I think I just need a few hours away from social media and from my managers constant nagging and calling. I’m sorry for being such a shit guest.”

“It’s okay.”

And it really was okay. Phil didn’t mind that Dan needed some alone time, he did as well. He needed time to process what had happened. He watched Dan’s back as he retreated to be alone and Phil remained sat down, the pizza now cold on the counter.

Today had been unlike any other day Phil had ever had before in his life.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #au #famous!dan #moviestar!dan #normal!phil #princesslexi763fics

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artsietango · 6 years

Text

Metal: Chapter 1 (Part 1)

Original Work

Subject: Space

Word Count: 1394

Author’s Note: This is technically a rough draft because I only made small edits when transferring this chapter from my notebook to my computer. If you have any questions please shoot me an ask! Character references can be found here.

Tom would never have noticed the intercom had turned on if Joleen hadn’t yelled at him.

“Tech!”

Jumping, Tom lifted his eyes from the circuit board he was working on to glare at the monitor behind him.

“What?” He snapped. He didn’t like being interrupted like that, especially when he was so close to finishing a technical project. Joleen rolled her eyes, saying,

“Mother needs you.” Tom set down his circuit board and screwdriver, muttering complaints under his breath as he fastened his tool-belt and walked out of his workroom, the monitor shutting off as he left.

He jumped into the Workshop, skipping the two steps into the lower level. Though there were no walls except for the surrounding walls of the Underbelly, the three main divisions were separated by levels. Level 3, near the back of the ship, housed the Technical Division, run by Tom and his assistant, Charlotte. Level 2 was the Workshop, which was split into two subdivisions; Forge and Assembly. These two divisions were kept separate by being on opposite sides of the room. And finally, Level 1 was Controls, holding the subdivisions Radio and Flight Captain, where Tom was on his way now.

As Tom reached the stairs descending into Level 1, he said,

“DJ called me down here. Are we having another problem with Mother Skipper?” Chris, Metal’s Flight Captain, also known as ‘Skipper’, turned and smiled sheepishly at Tom.

“Yeah, just a slight glitch with the data readers.” Tom just grunted and laid on the floor, scooting under the control deck. As he fidgeted with the wires, Chris asked,

“Is it fixable?”

“Oh yeah, easy as pie. Well, more like no-bake cookies. But at any rate, nothing too big.” Tom replied. Chris gave a small sigh of relief.

“That’s good. Sorry we interrupted you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I just wish ol’ Mother would self correct.”

“Yeah, well, you can’t have everything.” Chris replied. Tom replied with an ‘aha’, before snapping the wire panel back into place.

“There, that should do it.” He said, sliding out and sitting up. Chris awarded him with a big smile.

“Awesome. Thanks Tech. Sorry again about this hunk of junk.”

“Hey, that’s why the ship’s called Metal. One of the first, one of the oldest. It’s had worse problems, believe me.” Chris just shook his head as if he didn’t believe Mother would still be in space if she had had bigger problems before turning back to the controls.

As Tom skipped the steps up to Level 2, he gave a quick wave to Assembly and Forge. Only Tessa and Ben in Assembly noticed, smiling and waving back. It was probably best the Forgers, Pip and Damon, couldn’t see him anyways. Better to stay on task than burn a finger or two.

As Tom reached Tech Deck, as Level 3 was commonly referred to, he was met by his assistant, Charlotte.

“Hey, what’s up” He asked.

“Oh, not much,” She replied. “I’ve finished all my pending projects so far.”

“Well that’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” Tom said absentmindedly as he fiddled with his workroom door. Charlotte said,

“Yeah, and I also noticed the circuit board lying on your worktable.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking it might be fried.” He groused, glancing at her as he finally got the door open. “I hate that door jam.” Charlotte took a deep breath, ignoring his second comment.

“Actually, no, it’s not fried. As I passed by I noticed everything was correct except for where your wires were attached, so I swapped them.”

“Did you now?” Tom asked, picking up the circuit board and inspecting it, glancing back and forth between her and it. After a while, he said, “Well, everything looks in order. Now let’s just see if it passes the final test.”

Charlotte watched as Tom connected the wires to a monitor and popped it into the portable console. He clicked the power button, mumbling,

“If this works, I might give you more of these jobs.” Charlotte smiled excitedly at the prospect, though both of their eyes were on the monitor screen. The screen turned blue and the loading bar appeared, making Tom whisper,

“Aw yes, please work. Come on, please work.” They waited breathlessly for five minutes, praying that the loading bar would complete its task. When the computer finally booted, the automated voice said,

“Hello, how can I help you?” Charlotte and Tom both exhaled, cheering at their success.

“Thank God.” Charlotte said.

“You are brilliant Cupcake, and I could kiss you right now if I wasn’t so keen to try this out.” Tom declared, not realizing the affect his words had on Charlotte’s cheeks. Running his hands through his already rumpled ember hair, he said,

“Computer, pull up History of Metal.” The computer whirred, searching for his command before intoning;

Metal was the first ship of Earth’s Iron Fleet. Built by the America’s five years before the Earth’s collapse, NASA planned to launch it three years prior. Due to problems with the original model and the Mother computer system, they launched it two years before the collapse. At first there was overpopulation,-

“Yes, thank you Computer.” Tom said with slight irritation in his voice, glancing hurriedly at Charlotte to make sure she wasn’t suspicious. Seeing as she was nonplussed, he continued.

“Who was the Flight Captain at the time of Metal’s launch?” The computer whirred again before displaying the words and reciting;

Professor Davis Chotsky.

“What was his nickname?” Charlotte piped up.

“They didn’t have that kind of system, or camaraderie around here at that time. At that time, he was Flight Captain, and everyone was considered beneath him.” Tom answered. Charlotte grimaced.

“Jeez.” She said.

“Yeah,” He replied before turning his attention back to the computer. “Computer, who is the current Flight Captain of Metal?” The computer took a minute to think before replying.

Captain Miles Davies.

“No no no no no no.” Tom groaned, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Charlotte watched as Tom stomped over to the wall monitor behind him, slamming on the intercom button.

“DJ!” He snapped.

“What?” Joleen replied, appearing on the monitor and heaving an enormous sigh of exasperation.

“Get the Library Database on the line for me please.”

“On it.” As Tom waited, Charlotte asked,

“What was Captain Mile’s nickname?” Tom gave her a crooked half smile.

“Captain, because he ran a tight ship.” She giggled at the joke before a sour looking lady came on the monitor.

“Mr. Lewis, can I help you?” She asked, her voice sounding stiff and official.

“Yes, Miss Marywhether, you can. If you look at your current events database, you’ll find that some of your information is outdated.” Tom replied, suddenly sounding very formal. He thanked his lucky stars that Charlotte didn’t notice how nervous he was about talking to the librarian in front of her.

“Could you tell me exactly what’s wrong with the information?” The reedy librarian asked piously.

“Well, ma’am, do you know who the Flight Captain of Metal is currently?” Tom asked.

“Of course I do. Chris Davies, Miles Davies’ son.”

“Yah-ha, and, um, what does your information say?”

Charlotte tried to stifle her laughter as the librarian turned a dark shade of pink as she read the error. Tom himself was having a hard time concealing his smug smile as Miss Marywhether replied curtly,

“Very well. I will fix this immediately. Thank you again, Mr. Lewis, for your impressive observance of other’s mistakes. Will that be all?” Tom scowled at Marywhether, snapping,

“Yes, that will be all, thank you.” Before he shut off the screen. He turned away from it to find Charlotte laughing quietly. and his glare melted into an amused look.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“It must-bug her immensely-that a sassy seventeen year old-is better at her job-than she is!” She replied between giggles. Tom chuckled along with her.

“Oh it does. Her face shade depends on how big the error I’ve pointed out is.” They both laughed a while before the dinner buzzer rang, and Joleen’s last words to the world of Metal rang through the Underbelly.

“Well folks, it is thirty past nine, and time for me to sign off. We hope you’ve enjoyed listening to the program, and we hope to see you bright and early tomorrow morning. This is Joleen Anderson, and you’re listening to IFBS.”

Tag list: @softlybrrahs

#METAL #my writing #my ocs #Tom #Charlette #Joleen #DJ #Tech #Cupcake

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wishingfornever · 6 years

Text

10/16/17 – No Contact: The Third Wall

This new chapter is twice the length of the old chapter. It’s not even finished. I need to add a beginning to it as well as an end. The end will be easy, I’ll just use the original chapter for that. The beginning… Well, a lot has to happen.

I think I said I hated writing for Atlas but at the same time I love it. My problem is that he’s Scottish and is subject to a lot of slang. It’s not as good as it sounds, trust me. I had Eleanor read through a lot of what I wrote to confirm how Scottish it sounds. It sounded fine by her words. This chapter is… incredibly action pact. The battle just unfolded that way. A lot happened. I’m glad I didn’t have to read the previous chapter to see what happened. This way is far better.

One problem is that now I keep trying to hit tab with these entries. Every paragraph gets hit with a tab. It’s not that great. I’ll get over it. But I got SO much done and I need to get SO much done tomorrow. I’m starting to yawn now. So, I guess I’m running out of second wind. It’s almost 1 in the morning.

I slept better than usual. Of course, it’s currently 6:44. Best case scenario, I slept 6 hours. I could live off this, but more than likely I’ll be taking a nap when I get home. It’s so dark.

When I get back, I’ll definitely take a shower. Get ready for the day and walk over soon. I can’t remember my dream but I think it involved Swedes. So, the chapter weighed heavily on me last night. :3

I’m back. Adela is exhausting because she’s stressing out. Then she was projecting her stress onto me. She had to meet with a coworker earlier than usual today and I guess she doesn’t do mornings well, surprisingly. I know I wouldn’t.

I’m totally fine, mind you. I don’t need more sleep, though I might take a nap for later. More than likely, though, I’ll end up going to bed early today. Finally, I fixed my sleeping schedule the night I have to actually need it. ;)

I’ll leave at about 10. Adela wants me to do something around the house. Just gotta spray the base with an anti-insect blocker or whatever. After that, I’ll start getting ready and will try to head out at 10. I’ll try to leave EXACTLY at 10 so I know for sure what time I’d have to leave in order to get there. Or at least the estimated time. As you can imagine, walking doesn’t get caught up in traffic so even though I have two lights to walk through, it shouldn’t slow me down significantly. I probably won’t rush, either. Just a cool, calm walk. And if I leave at about 10, it should be after the morning rush. Of course, I haven’t considered Houston being the 4th largest city. Considering the brand, it should be pretty busy at all times. I’d be surprised if it weren’t.

My funds are getting pretty low. Well… not low. Like, I pay 65 a week for food basically. 260 a month at that rate. So, to survive a year I need 3120 at least for food. I could survive on less, I’m sure, but this is how much my current calorie intake is. Of course, my cousin will charge me more at the end of the month. That’s how it works. ;)

Working at Texan minimum wage at full time, I’ll make 290 a week. For a month, that’d be 1160. After a full year, that’d be 13,920. Of course, that’s all BEFORE taxes and assuming I’m constantly getting hours and don’t get overtime (which I’ll never get, because low-paying jobs are asses when it comes to overtime). At this rate… I could maybe afford a legitimate editor. Of course, some editors would charge about $4,000 to edit a book of my size (about the size of the first Harry Potter, a bit bigger).

However, there might be a cheaper editor who offers critique as well. Of course, I SHOULD finish a second book at least before I publish the first. So, I might not contact her unless I truly need it. Then again, I’m pretty reckless. We’ll see, of course as my book has a lot of problems. I’m going to use your notes as a jumping point. If I do get this editor, I should make sure it’s my near final draft. Because when I get it back, I’ll have to read through it. It’s imperative that any edits I make after she’s finished are correct and fit the rest. I won’t get a second chance at that point.

Should be fine though. My biggest problem is I switch from past to future, I guess.

Oof. Monkey Rag came on. A lot of things remind me of you here. That song reminds me of you, too. My one problem with that song is halfway through, the lyrics end. Ah, well. I shouldn’t be getting moppy right now. I have a lot to do today and not as much time to do it.

Anyways… when I get back, I want to rant about All Lives Matter on Facebook. Most people who claim All Lives Matter tend to be pro-police. That’s fine, mind you. To each their own. However, the ALM thing began as anti-cop. Weird, I know, but it’ll make sense in that post. It’s currently 9. I’ll get started on my chores.

Later.

Current time 10...06. I missed my mark, but that’s okay. I’ll use a stopwatch on my phone. Not a problem. I’ll have to charge it some, so I’ll leave at 10:30. So long as I’m there by noon, I should be fine because people tend to get off then for lunch. Starbucks doesn’t strike me as a great place for a meal, but people still need coffee.

Ugh… Tried another banana. This one smelled weird. Threw THAT away. Really, HEB? Really? I learned spots on a banana doesn’t mean the inside is bad but THESE MUTHAFUCKAS managed to screw that up. They turn brown from the inside out. Really? I found one that was acceptable, cut out the brown, and ate it. Ah, well. At least I smell nice.

My hair needs to dry. And, to keep the curls from curling, I need to comb it as it dries. Or brush. I have a brush upstairs and a comb on me. Humidity leads to chaos. I’m sure you’re aware of this as your hair is curlier than mine.

Btw, the NationStates thing. I basically set vacation mode on and turned it off at 12. Meaning I get my issues at 12 and 6 on the hour everyday. No longer do I have to check to see where the time is to do my issues. I can just be aware now. I wish there were an option to set it to that time automatically, but whatever. I did it without automatic aid.

Speaking of aid, I did put gel in my hair. Not sure if it’s helping. I hope it is. Judging from my reflection, it seems like it… give it time, though.

Anyways, I checked the nation count in our region. Yeah, ours. I know you left it but it’s still ours. Deal with it.

Not the point.

The point is, I’m the most pacifist nation in the region. My motto is Spanish for “They won’t pass because fuck them; they’re assholes” and my military is second largest in the region (behind a relatively inactive nation who never speaks or interacts with anyone because I’m fairly sure the guy who runs it has MULTIPLE nations).

Oof. It’s 10:20. I have ten minutes. I’m starting to get hit by exhaustion. I could totally nap right now. It’d probably do me some good.

Just did the math for taxes. Seems it wouldn’t matter too much. I’d lose like 2k in taxes but there is this thing called Tax Returns which are great. You’ll never see a poor man charged for tax evasion.

Alright, time to go. Currently have a 30% charge. Should be fine. Later.

Back. Took a little under 15 minutes. I ordered an iced tea (green). It wasn’t that bad. I was so parched. Should have hydrated first. The woman who served me was an older gal but she seemed nice. No supervisors were there, unfortunately. And everyone there was a woman.

I don’t think I’ll get the job.

That’s fine. I’ll wait until Friday and start going out again. This time, I’ll do it by the books and apply all over at once. In the mean time, I’ll post that post.

Hrm… my NationStates issue is off by 40 seconds. Still, that’s really good all things considered. Within a minute of noon, I’ll have an issue. So, it’s still at noon. :D

Current time is 6:15. We just walked Max. Adela is depressed. She says it’s because of what happened with Max at the groomer. I suspect there is more to it than that.

Let me fill you in. Max got so anxious and was so stressed, he wouldn’t let the groomers finished. Max’s body is shaved. His ears are shaved. His head? The back of his head? Every part of his head except his ears and front of his neck? Unshaven. He looks… ridiculous.

That said, I was certain Adela’s work was getting to her but looking into further proved fruitless. I’ll be doing the dishes tonight. A never ending story… for dishes. Whatever. Adela asked me to do them and to be fair, we only have so many pans for eggs. Guess what I’ve been eating a lot of.

Speaking of which, I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Not sure if I’ll write more on the chapter. I’ll just take it easy tonight. Tomorrow, I have some things to do. I’ll be sure to finish my chapter, though.

Right now, I’m listening to this dude who supposedly destroyed Eminem. That title was brought about by Republicans, so of course they’d say he was destroyed by this guy. The page is on Facebook, called “The Red Elephants.” Bullshit name, whatever. Their twitter handle is “TheRealRedElephants.” They sell a shirt for $26 that says, “Fuck Antifa” with brass knuckles on it. They wouldn’t happen to have a shirt that says, “Fuck Nazis” would they?

Of course not. They say both sides are to blame yet only attack one side.

I commented on that shirt saying, “Golly gosh, that sure is cool! You guys going to release a shirt that says, ‘Fuck Nazis’ on it? :D” This is a loaded question. I’m not sure if I discussed what a loaded question is to you while I was teaching you about politics.

A loaded question is a question where every answer is bad. They get asked A LOT to make someone look bad. An example of a loaded question is “Have you stopped beating your wife?” If you say no because you don’t beat your wife, that’s bad because it implies you still beat your wife. If you say yes because sarcasm even, that means you beat your wife and they will quote you and not even suggest you were using a sarcastic tone. If you say, “I’ve never beat my wife” then they’ll brand you as a liar because you had to defend yourself from that bullshit.

My question is loaded because it relies heavily on the context. If they tell me, “No” then they’ll imply that conservatives are Nazis. If they say “Yes” then I’ll ask why it wasn’t released with the shirt in the first place and turn it into a cluster fuck.

Not that it’ll matter, mind you. They’ll probably just panic-ban me. Where they panic and then ban me. In case you didn’t know.

Reminds me of that one Christian Warrior page who banned me because I said Aztecs were cool and they are. They banned me and said I’m dumb and my parents are probably dumb. Probably. I took a screen shot. Like, really… why do they get offended so easily? I wasn’t even TRYING to offend them.

Oh, mind you. They were talking about how Columbus Day was getting replaced by indigenous people’s day and how we’d start sacrificing people to the sun. I pointed out how there were no Aztecs in the United States. That’s probably the real reason why because I followed that up with Aztecs are cool.

Some people are rude. I tried calling them out but my friends who actually liked the page didn’t tag them for me. Scoundrels!

Daniel and I are chatting. Told him about Starbucks. You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried getting with him for a night or something. Honestly, I wouldn’t care. Not that I’d give Daniel permission to sleep with my girlfriend but you’re not my girlfriend and he didn’t try to end my relationship. Nor did he start spreading rumors and started telling people falsehoods and flat out lying.

If we don’t get together but you and Daniel have a thing going, good for you guys. He has a great work ethic and a sensitive heart. Of course, his relationship with Canelo is conflicted… obviously… but I think it’s because of his time with juvy. Not sure how to spell the slang.

Anyways, the Red Elephants are really into conspiracy theories. Like… really. Misleading, misinformation, partial truths. Yeah, these guys are totally pushing an agenda. Typical propaganda. I know because I used to write that shit. Of course, I was generally more honest. I tend to focus on building up the people before letting loose political theories. Turns out, people like to be flattered before they rise up.

Look at Obama. “Yes we can!” Because you’re a part of something and YOU can do it! You can do it with us! We can do ANYTHING!!!

Mind you, I’m not fond of Obama or Trump. In a two party system, you’ll find that it’s great for staying unbiased. Someone says, “If Obama did this, you’d support it!” you’d say, “No, I wouldn’t.” It deflates their argument real quick and helps for keeping the debate rational or for skipping straight to ad hominem. One problem, however, is that the people you sling mud with tend to switch sides every 4 or 8 years.

I used to shit on Obama with Conservatives. For different reasons, of course. I didn’t like how he liked to drone strike children and they didn’t like that he was black and on the other team. Now I shit on Trump with Liberals. For different reasons, of course.

I’m reminded that I might be posting this on Tumblr. One of my least favorite things about Tumblr are the people who claim to be Communist without really knowing what it entails. Like, to them? Marxism is a trend. Kind of disappointing. I’m sure if this ever goes on Tumblr (which might happen considering it’d be what I’d do in the event of you telling me no) people would just consistently shit on my for everything. -,-

Ah, well. I’ll try to get that thought out of my mind. Brb, food

Had a salad. Was far better than the one from yesterday. Used honey mustard and avocado. Nothing else. Super simple. The salad itself was quite simple too. For some reason, it was fresher than the one from yesterday. I wonder if they have dates on them.

To be fair, salads can be kind of fattening due to all the added bullshit. I don’t think yesterdays was fattening. Maybe a little because of the cottage cheese. Can’t imagine that’d be healthy. But, of course, it was a shitty salad. You’d think they’d make a salad out of something that isn’t lettuce. It’d be healthier. And lettuce just… is boring.

I miss you. I’m missing you. I regret what happened between us. I wish we could just… talk. Not about us, just talk. I want to hear your opinion, even if I don’t care for the subject. You don’t know how this situation has made me feel. I guess I don’t know how it’s made you feel, either.

Anyways, since I went vegetarian I noticed my poop has been super green. It’s a good thing. :D

Yeah, I know. I can’t get too serious. Except I was sort of serious. With both. My poop has been super green. But still, I’m missing you right now. I don’t know why. Just… with Adela and Max, I feel like you could really help out and they’d appreciate it. I know Max would. He loved you.

I feel… terrible. I can’t help but think of you. Something is going on. I feel like I’m reliving our entire relationship in a single second every second. A lot on my mind.

Oh… would you look at that? They added two stages to the five stages of grief. Placing a lot of faith in older psychological models tends to lead to failure. These stages often have their own twists and biases, leading to heavy criticism and debate. Maybe… all this. All I’ve done was just bargaining. Assuming the model is true. I’m not sure I’ve accepted everything, but I’ve felt the depression. I tried moving on. Perhaps the journal isn’t helping. Perhaps I can’t move on while I’m still writing in this dumb little word document.

It’s helped me though. It gives me a chance to talk about how I feel, though I think I’ve just been using it for food updates lately. I can work on expressing my own feelings. So what if I haven’t accepted the end? It’s wrong of me to try to force emotions. I’m not going to fake how I feel just to satisfy you or anyone else. Especially not myself.

I love you, Esther. I really do. I sincerely doubt we’ll ever get back together, but I hope we do.

That said… I intend to delete the letter I wrote you. That was early on. Before I even began this journal. That contract? Delete that two. Why bother with it? You’re not coming back and that sucks. Right now, it’s just a waste of memory. And if you DO come back? Well, I wouldn’t agree to it.

The thing is, I’ve learned to respect myself a bit more. I’m not going to give you everything just because you say, “I want it” if it’ll hurt our relationship. So, if we got back together? The contract would favor me more. You said it yourself. The contract I wrote was hard on me.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll break up with me again when you discover the contract is no longer valid and you won’t get half the things I would have agreed to. You had your chance to exploit me but you didn’t. If you manage to overcome your distaste for me and we begin to talk more and somehow decide to give it a second chance but you ask for the contact I’d written a month or two ago and hear no, maybe you’ll be fine with it. Maybe you’ll be willing to give it a chance despite no guarantees.

Ugh… if this is on Tumblr, I’ll have to explain the contract. Gross. If I don’t, people will think we had a financial agreement or something. I’d rather not right now. If this is on Tumblr and someone who isn’t Esther is reading this, then know that the contract wasn’t good or bad. It was fun and more an educational tool to get Esther to read the fine print and notice specific wording and shady legal practices. The contract I wrote was something that’d ensure the integrity of our relationship in the event that we got back together. It was mostly to show I had yielded and I’d do anything to get her back, regardless of my personal feelings.

I disregarded myself. It was easy to. Easier then, at least. Now? I may be moody now, but I feel more confident (on average, at least). I’ll overcome this feeling and get back on my feet.

One of Esther’s problems was that I was always on my computer. Admittedly, it wasn’t only when I was miserable. I was on it a lot and I neglected her. That’s one of the things I regret, not only because Dennis filled her head with the idea that I HATED her as well as himself and Daniel but because it was wrong of me to do. Shitty move on my part.

I wasn’t the best boyfriend. I should have been. Esther deserves the world. She’s such a sweet, caring soul. But now… I know better.

I wanted to prove to her when she moved out that I would change. I uninstalled ALL my games. All of them except for Town of Salem. It was more symbolic than anything else. I offered to destroy my computer later on if that’d make her happy but that just annoyed her. At that point, I was very low. Not as confident.

Now, I wouldn’t make that offer. If I ever write a book, then I’ll need the computer for writing. I could potentially make money off through this old laptop. However, I’d uninstall ALL my games again. It really doesn’t matter to me. They’re material goods and bring me only amusement but not happiness. With the exception of rewriting the naval battle in my book, I haven’t played very many games as of late anyways. I guess since I stopped talking to Esther and started talking to… future Tumblr, I guess? Whatever. Since I started talking to future Tumblr, let me confirm this now.

The Naval Battle in my book is from Napoleon Total War. It was unscripted, a match between five people with myself being among them. If my book takes off, maybe I’ll show the battle sometime. But, that’s not very likely. I know my odds and they’re stacked against me.

Then again, I had a one in 400 trillion chance in being born. Not sure how accurate that estimate is but if there is any truth to it, then I’ve already finished the hard part. ;)

Honestly, my chances are pretty good all things considered. If I need a source, my existence is proof enough.

Back to you, Esther. You’re beautiful. I just wish you could see me now. You’ll see the difference. You’ll see how I changed and how I’ve rebuilt myself. I still get the odd fit of depression, but it doesn’t linger. I don’t hurt anymore.

Anyways, it’s almost 10 and I promised Adela I’d do the dishes. I love you, Esther. I hope you’re safe.

Esther!!! I discovered something called a poet’s collar. It’s longer, pointed collar. Like a regular shirt collar… but longer. That’s it. The keyword is “poet” though. It’s perfect! I have some ideas for it and I’m super stoked. I know just the shirt that’d work with it but it’s in California.

DAMMIT!!!

#breakup #slice of life #frustration #depression #getting over it #moving on #journal #a year ago today

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shalegas34 · 7 years

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bizarre love triangle chapter 4

I tried really hard on that report. I put my fucking soul into it. I skipped lunch on Tuesday so I could finish drafting a cool bit of maths (likely rudimentary to Macquarie) on the proposed Northstar interest rate swaps.

“It’s looking good,” he said early afternoon. “The main deal is Sundance though, don’t forget that.”

He was in a rush so elected not to say anything else. He was fully right though. I’d neglected Sundance pretty badly, so I opened up Jule’s papers and filched a few more of the key cash flow and oil price forecasts, following what Macquarie had thrown together in April.

“The structure’s no good, I can’t follow it,” he said, handing my laptop back to me later that day. “Just an idea, combine the two sections and make a comparison. It’ll be easier reading. I’ll send you the returns on our blue chips, you can use those to make anything look good. Just make it really convincing, all right, or these people will take their money and run.”

Had he actually forgotten I’d only been here two days? I was starting to regret all my life choices.

On Wednesday, I finished what he suggested, and he left early (early as in 7pm) to meet his daughter’s teachers. He didn’t even seem pissed about it. He really had changed.

‘It’s starting to come together,’ he emailed back close to midnight. What else did he want? I found Northstar Copper’s website and took some mine site photos from their annual report.

‘Leaching cleanup,’ I saw hiding in size 11 font at the bottom of page 35. ‘Northstar is committed to sustainability, which is why we are investing $14.4million in heavy metal cleanup at the Stokes River concentration facility.’

I’d seen that number before. I pulled up the front page of Sally’s prudentials report. NST60, total principal: AUD14.4mn.

I was too tired to care. So the company was issuing stock to finance an environmental cleanup. That was good. I put in a quick detail about it in the report; maybe rich people cared about rivers these days, I didn’t keep up with trends.

On Thursday, Princess Monster Truck fell sick. It was probably the long journey and stress of a new home. I turned on one of the radiators for her to drape herself over, then left to go to work, hoping that the low setting would stave off any fire hazard. I’d check in on her at lunch.

Except Macquarie chose that day to schedule lunch with Sally Zhou, and invited me along, now it seemed I was going to survive as a long-term fixture.

We hit up a hipster café near the railway station. Macquarie introduced me as his new secretary and partner (which was interesting) and showed Sally my report on Northstar.

“Not bad, what do you reckon?” Macquarie asked.

“Didn’t even realise it wasn’t yours,” Sally admitted. That was flattering.

I noticed this wasn’t my latest draft, and was missing the detail about Stokes River.

“I’ve added a bit about Stokes River,” I said.

Two heads turned to stare at me. “What?” I said, laughing nervously. “I read it in the annual report.”

“What did you write?” Macquarie asked, after Sally gave him a look in turn. He looked like he was sweating, but the food was a bit spicy.

“Just a note that the funds are going to environmental cleanup. I thought it might appeal to people’s… conscience…” I trailed off when I realised neither of them was about to agree.

Macquarie smiled. “That isn’t quite right. The equity issue is funding expansion at the mine. They discovered a new deposit slightly to the east of the existing orebody.”

I must have missed it. “Sorry,” I said. “Just use what I sent you then, I didn’t add anything else.”

The conversation turned to Sundance Energy. Macquarie’s fund was buying approximately 5% of stock on the secondary market, plus almost 100% of a new issue, discounted through Sally’s bank. Turned out she regularly went to Macquarie with special deals on risky equity the bank underwrote then failed to sell. A win for both parties.

I asked Macquarie for the afternoon off to tend to my cat.

“Yeah, you’re good. Just have a last look over that report; I want it out by 10am tomorrow.”

“No problem,” I said.

Princess Monster Truck still wasn’t eating, but at least my document was looking on point. I deleted the Stokes River details and kept the photos.

I could see a protest march winding its way down a wide street form my window. I’ve always loved a good protest, like marching against climate change could absolve me of my decade-long involvement in its most perpetuating industry. I decided to check it out to take my mind off things.

The rally was a petition to close the ageing brown-coal power stations in rural Victoria. Exactly my scene. Solar thermal was up and running in SA by now, and the people were bemoaning Victoria’s apathy on the matter. The Premier was yelling about how we’d be the ones borrowing power from SA if the plants closed.

My phone was ringing. It was Macquarie.

“What is it?” I shouted over the row of the crowd.

“Where are you? I can barely hear you. I just talked to Sally about the report,” he said. I turned my phone’s volume up to maximum.

“Everything good?”

“I know you worked hard on it, but she’s made some suggestions and I agree. There’s too much about Northstar in there. We don’t want to overwhelm the investors. We’ll feed them more about Northstar closer to the deal; I think we should take out all the stuff about interest rate swaps and business plans and just leave an expected return, if that.”

I could feel blood rushing through my head. I’d pulled two all-nighters to finish that report.

“Don’t worry though, what you wrote won’t be wasted. Keep it, and I’m sure we’ll be able to use it. Can you do something about the Sundance section though? We need way more detail. Seems like you put all the effort into Northstar, and I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

“I... Yeah…” I said, but I wasn’t even hearing myself talk anymore. I glared at the innocent Premier to try release some of my frustration.

“You want this by 10am tomorrow,” I suddenly snapped.

“It shouldn’t be a problem…” Macquarie began.

“For you maybe,” I shouted. Oh no. My blood pressure was rising. After all these years, I still hadn’t learned how to control myself.

“If it’s too much…” Macquarie started again.

“My cat is dying,” I bellowed. “I’ve had this cat for ten years. Princess Monster Truck is my life.” I was seeing red. People were starting to move away from me. “I can’t work like this,” I dramatically roared for emphasis.

Macquarie seemed to shrink away from the phone. I knew I was being unreasonable, but I couldn’t stop. “Why now,” I yelled at him. “Where was Sally yesterday? I won’t be able to produce anything good for you in 12 hours. You might as well fire me already.”

“Can I call you back later?” Macquarie said, sounding distant.

“Or don’t,” I shouted like a fourteen-year-old girl.

I stayed until the end of the protest, but I was simmering beneath the surface. I still felt like shouting when I got home, so I went ahead and did precisely that, hammering my cats’ eardrums with profanities and getting shamefully angry with Princess Monster Truck when she refused to rise to the bait.

Because it wasn’t enough, I got out my phone and drafted a voluminous text message to Macquarie, paying him out for being disorganised and talking too much and taking me for a fucking ride. I was angry enough to hit send.

Silva, my other cat, was in my line of sight so I dragged her yowling out onto the balcony for some therapeutic stargazing. Fifteen minutes later I was back on my laptop, editing my report, and starting to feel really bad about the baseless insults I’d thrown at Macquarie.

He called me back at eight.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” was the first thing he said. I was kind of taken aback. “I was just saying to Sally, I couldn’t have done what you did a week after starting my first banking job. None of us could. That being said, I don’t feel much sympathy for your stress… that’s just how corporate life goes. You have to learn to think fast, or you’ll be spun out. I bet you’ve started editing already.”

“Yes,” I said.

Macquarie laughed. “Didn’t peg you as having a temper. I’ll have to watch out for you.”

“You’re not firing me?”

“Why would I fire you?” He sounded genuinely confused. “You’re already an asset. Wait till you’ve been around a few more months.”

I took a deep breath. I had to say it. “Sorry, Macquarie. I didn’t mean to roast you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, and we left it at that.

The investor update went out at 10am on the dot on Friday.

Macquarie booked Princess Monster Truck in for a vet visit, where I wrote her name down as Pia. Turned out she’d swallowed some shit – the vet suspected Styrofoam peanuts from the moving boxes – and needed an operation to get them out. Macquarie footed the bill. I couldn’t even describe how much that meant to me.

“How about we call that a week,” he said to me with a wink on his way out on Friday night. “I need to talk to you sometime about our investor presentation end of June. I want you to be part of it, but we’ll have business in Adelaide before that. Have a good weekend, Aurizon.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened at the wedding. Was that it? Was that all I’d done to receive this sort of kindness?

I received my first paycheck the next Wednesday. The day after that, Sundance Energy filed for bankruptcy protection.

#special tag 4 #you can see approximately where we're up to in the timeline lol #about halfway to now #i still have heaps of content on the kids coming though <3

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