#had to go through my spreadsheet to figure out what to rec

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Thank you so much for doing this! It's a wonderful idea to collect fic recs in one place, where authors can promote their own works as well!

Just a suggestion for the future! Could you tag the authors, or maybe add links to their fic posts, too? It'd be super convenient to be able to browse their blogs!

Hi! I'm glad you're enjoying the rec lists :)

I appreciate your suggestions. I agree that those additions would make sense, and they are definitely things I've considered including, but at the moment, I'm trying to keep everything as manageable as I can so that I don't feel overwhelmed by the size of the tasks -- I really want this to be a project that's sustainable for me, and having the spreadsheet with an extraction script for posting makes it really helpful (I click three buttons and 90% of the formatting is done for me!), but also does somewhat limit what is easily HTML-able.

I do have a space in the rec form to include a fic post, but at least on this first list I believe only three posts were linked. I don't know if that's because only a few had posts, or if most people didn't want/know how to go looking for the posts, but I also don't know that I have the time or ability to search for 20-odd fic posts, without knowing which ones don't exist. Posting the first list took me about 40 minutes, which might go down as I get more used to things, but even if I only spent a minute or two searching for each post, that could still double the amount of time I'm spending. So for the moment, I’ll be linking and reblogging the fic posts submitted in the form, but probably not hunting any down myself.

Similarly, I did name all the authors as they were listed in the form submissions, but I'm not sure if those are the AO3s or the Tumblrs -- sometimes they're the same but sometimes they're not (mine aren't!). Further, the original form was set up to not assume posting location -- it could be on AO3 but it could be on FF.net, or Tumblr, or Twitter, hell even Wattpad, and I like that open-endedness. Even if I did request Tumblrs separately (and if the writer has one/makes it clear what it is), I don't know if there's a simple way to embed user-tags into the HTML, so I'd have to do it manually (which is more formatting on my end, especially when there are a lot of fics) or hyperlink it (which would let readers click through at least, but wouldn't notify the writers)... there's just a lot of layers of complexity haha. The folks I borrowed this idea from do leave comments on recced fics, to let people know they've been spotlighted, and I'm hoping to add that to my process, but haven't fully gotten that sorted yet.

I didn't mean for this to turn into an essay haha but I hope that all makes sense and clarifies my thought process? I'm open to switching things up as I learn more about this project and what's feasible for me, or if I figure out ways that don't add much complexity, but I want to aim simple so that I don't overestimate my capacity and overwhelm myself and have to stop. But I appreciate your ideas and am definitely open to hearing suggestions, even if I'm not sure I'm able to incorporate all of them right now.

[shandian-go]

Hi! If you’re willing to share, I was just wondering what degree you have or if you could give a vague idea of what field you work in. I’m trying to figure out a new career path and I still don’t have a clue of what to do.

You’re so capable and smart at what you do in GOs so I was wondering if you have recs for stable career paths or if you have advise in being as good at management as you are. Sorry if this seems intrusive! (Please don’t feel like you have to answer if you can’t/don’t have time or if these feel intrusive. I totally understand. Otherwise, I am very appreciative of a tiny bit of advise or insight into a stable career path.)

ahh i can try to answer about my own experience but my knowledge of jobs outside my own industry is pretty limited so this may not make for the best advice just an fyi;;;

i majored in accounting in uni and worked a few years in public accounting firms. it's not exactly an experience i'd recommend to everyone bc public is pretty stressful and it's 60+ hr weeks during busy season, but i learned so much there so don't regret it. we mostly work with spreadsheets and numbers and the standards for accuracy and proper documentation are really high. so those skills def helped me set up this GO in a way that could let me track everything comfortably.

i personally chose accounting specifically for its stability and my job didn't really get impacted by the pandemic. there's def a misconception that you have to be amazing at math to go into accounting but as someone who's definitely not good at Real Math, imo you just need to know the basics and also not hate numbers n__n;;; and if you'd like to get your cpa, then it's more about case writing skills and reading through accounting standards/tax rules than actual math calculations (at least in canada).

i will say though that quite a few of my friends have left accounting to go into tech as developers/software engineers, which has much better pay and a lot more job opportunities overall. there's coding bootcamps online so you don't have to go back to school for a full degree. however i've heard that their interviews are more technical so requires more self-study. and depending on where you work, the hours can be pretty rough too;;;

i also have some friends who are acturaries that work for insurance companies, but from what i understand, it involves harder math and they had to pass for 6-8 certification exams (in contrast i only had to pass 1). i know of a few others who got their cfa designation and got finance/analyst-type roles at banks but i'm not as familiar with the process;;;

unfortunately i don't know much about 'stable' careers outside of business/tech so that's pretty much all i can touch on;;; since my experience is pretty limited and i kind of stumbled upon my own career path, i think my only general advice is that if you're not sure about what you want, you can start with figuring out what you dislike or what would be a difficult fit for your personality type.

for me, i knew in high school that i was bad at sciences so avoided all science programs when applying to uni. i'm also not a natural speaker so it was pretty stressful whenever i had to give presentations or interact face-to-face with clients. eventually i figured out that i was better at writing and also liked working with numbers, as well as researching/digging into details to solve problems on my own, and ended up where i am now ;u;

choosing a career is such a difficult decision and i hope that you have family/friends who have more insight on your situation and can give you better feedback/support than i can;;; hopefully some of this was helpful and i wish you the best of luck!

[swissmissficrecs]

Can you recommend fics which are fluffy but explicit as well? :D I have just read a super angsty fic and I need to see my boys happy. Thanks x

Reply: First off, I have these fluff-related rec lists, but not all of them are high-rated and some also have quite a bit of angst:

Fluff Master List

Fluff (more since the previous master list) + even more fluff and good feels

Then from my bookmarks, I have culled these E-rated Johnlock fics that should be fairly light on the angst and high on the fluff & romance:

A Family Trait by cumberqueer (12K, E, Johnlock) Set post-S4, John is back at home with Rosie in Baker Street. He's working on a lot of things, including building his trust with Sherlock once more. An emergency shift at the clinic jumpstarts the process, forcing John to leave Rosie at home with only Sherlock to watch her. Sherlock does his best and John makes a mistake, but everyone is happy in the end.

An Approximation to Perfection by TooSel (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock realises just how good the sex John had with his last girlfriend was. The solution is simple: he's going to do everything in his power to ensure that their own sex life stays interesting. Only that it's never quite that easy.

And if you say the word, I could stay with you by CaitlinFairchild (12K, E, Johnlock) What Sherlock thinks is, On the day I die, be it in a dirty alley at forty or in my bed at eighty, the last thing I will remember is tonight, the way you looked at at me on the snowy pavement, cheeks pink with the cold, breath puffing in frosty white clouds, your heart in your eyes and snowflakes in your hair. I will remember that single perfect moment in my life, that moment I knew I had everything I ever wanted, and whatever happens next, I will die content. What he says is simply, "Marry me."

Clutter-Free by MissDavis (13K, E, Johnlock) 5 times John made Sherlock clean up the flat and one time he didn't have to.

Full Circle by cumberqueer (13K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has noticed that his best friend and crime-solving partner John Watson is doing well - too well for what they've been through, if you ask him. Sherlock is worried John is seeing someone that is making him very happy, and intends to find out who. But first: data. Featuring a spreadsheet of John Watson's Smiles, a parentlock makeover for 221b, and John being charming af.

If There Were Any Time For A Miracle by Berty (31K, E, Johnlock) John and Sherlock are spending Christmas at the Holmes' family home. Sherlock has a plan that John doesn't know about. John has a wish that Sherlock doesn't know about. If there were any time for a miracle, this would be it.

I'll Follow You Into the Dark by fearfully_beautifully_made (19K, E, Johnlock) ...A story about two men who have had a very tough couple of years and are long overdue for a little tenderness and healing. Or four times that one of the boys wake each other up from a Nightmare and one time when it is not a Nightmare. ;)

In July of This Year by yaycoffee (12K, E, Johnlock) There is an oft-cited experiment discussed in classrooms and cocktail parties alike, a convenient analogy when one endeavors to make a point about not noticing the obvious until it is inevitable. Simply, if you place a frog on a hot plate, it will jump off immediately, but if you put that frog on a cool plate and turn up the heat slowly, slowly, it will simply burn. Or: How these two idiots melt together, finally.

Johnlock Advent 2018 by sussexbound (47K, E, Johnlock) A collaboration between @honeybeelullaby, @chained-to-the-mirror, and myself. @honeybeelullaby provided the wonderful prompts, @chained-to-the-mirror drew pictures based on those, and I wrote a ficlet for each one.

Merlot by Itsallfine (14K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays.

Put a Little Love in Your Heart by MissDavis (16K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes and John Watson will both tell you that they are not sentimental men, and that neither thinks the holiday season is anything more than a series of dates on a calendar. Don't believe a word they say.

State of Flux by Atiki (24K, E, Johnlock) John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

The Allowables by cwb (14K, E, Johnlock) Got your email. Your idea of whispering filth to me in public is genius. ALWAYSI thought you might like that. CBTM

To Feed Your Hunger by FinAmour (21K, E, Johnlock) What does a kiss say, after all? A kiss is a gift. A kiss is a promise. A kiss says, “You’re mine, and I’m yours.” John exhales. “Can I kiss you?” Sherlock is trembling in his arms. “If you don’t,” he murmurs roughly, “I may lose my mind.”

To Keep Quiet by Salambo06 (11K, E, Johnlock) Four days. In the end, that’s all it takes for Sherlock to accept the fact that there is a chance John might be feeling just as desperate for more as he is.Still, it doesn’t change the fact that they need to talk. Sherlock counts it down to four conversations in total, at least. He’s certain John is just as aware of this fact as he is, but still, Sherlock finds himself unable to think of any plan of action.

Undersea-Rainbows by agirlsname (11K, E, Johnlock) If John ever saw a picture of how Sherlock gazes at him when he isn't looking, things would turn around very quickly for them.

Winning the Goat by ArwaMachine (17K, E, Johnlock) The life that Sherlock and John have together is rather unusual. Sometimes they lounge about the flat with their daughter. Sometimes they flee for their lives from a band of organ-harvesting criminals. Sometimes they shag. Sometimes Sherlock insists upon arguing with John about the Monty Hall problem for weeks on end. Somehow, they love each other. Somehow, it all works. 

[everybodyscupoftea]

How about more pike jj? 😍

okay love this, it was honestly really bothering me that i only had one fic under that heading so i’d love to expand if possible

also if someone wants to send requests on what else they’d like to see in this verse (other than smut) i’d love to do that for y’all

(warnings: cursing, anxiety, school freak out, unedited)

you were sitting on your couch when you saw your friend’s snapchat that she’d gotten into grad school. which, good for her, you loved that and were so happy for her, but it gave you a stomachache. you’d been putting off your own applications for months, intending to start last october, but it was february and you still hadn’t started.

in your defense, you were busy and between work and school, you hadn’t had much time to breathe, much less do extra work with applications. unfortunately, that meant you were way behind everyone and application due dates for the fall were passing you by.

maybe if you did some homework, the anxious feeling clawing at your throat would go away. pulling the tv table in front of you, you plopped your laptop down on it and opened your email. you were waiting for a company to get back to you about an interview for a project in your sales class. it was due in about three weeks and they still hadn’t gotten back to you, and unfortunately, you had no backup plan.

sure enough, your email was still empty. with a loud sigh, you pulled up your student email to check and see if your selected professors for letters of recommendation had gotten back to you about your resume and transcript. of course, with the way things were going, no.

you sniffled, a wave of tiredness hitting you as your morning shift combined with afternoon classes caught up to you. pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, you took a deep breath and decided to try and see if your in-class group sales project had been graded. your group had done well, and you were thrilled with the final product.

to your horror, there was an 81 staring you in the face with the note presentation left something to be desired, make sure to make more eye contact with the audience next time. overall, interesting topic that was well-researched.

a fucking 81 for not enough eye contact. you wanted to scream, that seemed fucking harsh for an elective that you chose to take over another communications class because you were told “honestly, she’s super easy and lenient with her grading”. lenient with her grading your ass.

maybe schoolwork wasn’t the best idea for the time being, and you slammed your laptop shut in frustration. you pulled your knees to your chest and started sobbing into them, totally overwhelmed and overworked. just as it was getting hysterical, there was a knock on the door. fuck, you’d forgotten jj was coming over for dinner.

you wrapped a blanket around you and padded over to the door, tears still leaking from your eyes. jj’s wide smile dropped as he took in your pathetic state and he immediately pulled you into a hug.

he walked the two of you over to the couch and stepped away to move the tv stand across the room. sitting down, he patted the spot next to him, but you stayed standing, not wanting to sit down because of the pent up anxiety churning in your stomach. 

“can you talk to me, sweetheart? is there something i can help you with?” he asked, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.

you rubbed your hands on the blanket, trying to stop them from sweating and started venting, “no one will get back to me that i need to for a class project and i don’t know who to ask that’s a marketing manager that i can interview. it’s due in three weeks and i have to do the post-interview essay too. my teachers who agreed to right my rec letters either haven’t got my emails or are just ignoring me, and i got an 81 on a project because prolonged eye contact freaks me out.”

jj’s eyebrows raised higher and higher as your rant went on and you started quickly pacing to work out some of the anxiety. he laid back on the couch and held an arm out, signaling for you to come lay with him. with a huff, you tightened the blanket around you and sat on the edge. 

he squeezed your hip gently and said, “baby, you’re one of the smartest people i know. you’ll figure out what you need to for that project, and the 81 isn’t that big of a deal in the span of the entire class, i know you have a lot of assignments to mask that.”

you put your head in your hands, “i haven’t even started applying for grad school yet. applications are starting to be due in like two weeks. what if i have to apply for hard ones and i get rejected from every single one because i procrastinated.”

jj laughed, “you’re too good to get rejected from every school you apply to. i wouldn’t expect to get into all of them, but i’m positive within the next few months you’ll have to choose between schools. which, now that i’m thinking about it will probably be a whole new crisis.”

you laughed, a strangled noise through the tears that had started falling again, before placing your hand on top of his on your hip, “god, i hope so. that’s a much better problem to have. it’s just so overwhelming looking at my list and then looking at how much have to do for each application and it’s like maybe i should just put this off if it’s going to overwhelm me. then i always regret it.”

he sat up, “first, let’s hug it out, then we’ll figure out what you need to do and what order to do it in so that you don’t get overwhelmed.”

jj held his arms out and you moved to sit on his lap, legs going around his waist, and hugged him tightly, engulfing him in the blanket too. you buried your face in his neck and breathed in his regular scent, which helped calm you, and you stayed there until the tears stopped completely.

he loosened his grip and you pulled back. wiping your cheeks, he asked, “we good now?”

“as good as i can be right now.”

with a nod he asked, “okay, what all do you need to get done for each application?”

“it starts with a personal statement, a copy of my transcript, and then letters of recommendation. then, depending on the school, they might ask for gre scores after my original submission.” you paused, thinking back on your gre, “oh my god, my scores were a solid average, a 310, what if it’s not good enough, i don’t want to retake it, that was miserable.”

“okay, you need to breathe, over 300 is good, don’t stress about your score right now. some schools might not even require it.” he was right, so you took a few deep breaths, and when you finished, he continued, “i think you should definitely write up a very basic personal statement template that you can fill in and expand upon for each school in particular.”

you nodded and stood to bring your laptop back over. jj opened his booksack and pulled his own laptop out. glancing over curiously, you asked, “wait, what are you doing?”

he responded without looking at you, “i’m an elite spreadsheet maker, so i’m going to make you one to show exactly what you need for each school and so that you can fill in when you do it.”

you teared up again, this time as his thoughtfulness, “god, i don’t deserve you.”

he grinned at you, “sure you do, you deserve the best in the world, and i’d wager that’s me.”

with a snort, you ruffled his hair before getting to work on your blanket personal statement. 

[ofcamerasflashing]

i'd lowkey love to see an example of your spreadsheet like you just showed in the gif! idk if you have something up somewhere on your blog, but i feel like being more organized like this is always a good thing so i'd be curious to see what you do

I went into detial here with explaining as much as I could So aside from walking you through step by step making the whole thing?  You get all the information.  I broke down every section, explained why something is there and overall tried to leave nothing upturned.  If you have questions about organization or something?  I’m totally here to answer more questions.  If this helps you?  Or you like what you see like/reblog. 

Here is a large screenshot of my whole spreadsheet. And then here is an updated gif version of my spreedsheet.  This whole set up took me about 4 hours to do (three more days of constant tweaking).  This whole process was a learning experience so that was why it happened to be so long.  I really had no idea how to do this at all so I had google up and a friend on a call asking questions (they helped where they could).’

Right now,  Danielle only has one project where she is a major part in it and is in episodes where is is above the age of 18 so that is all that I can do when it comes to her and icons.  Now with a different fc?  That has more projects this set up would be different only because they have more.   I tend to only make resources for fcs that I’m currently using or for the fandom that I’m currently writing in when it comes to indie rping.  I’m an indie roleplayer and write mostly canon muses.

So let’s move onto me explaining everything !  This screenshot is a little small so I’ll also be telling you what it says  (I can’t do the whole screenshots of things because some of it is just information but where I can I’ll try).    EPISODE NAME,  AIR DATE,  EPISODE #,  # OF ICONS,  TUMBLR UPLOADED,  MEGA DOWNLOADED EPISODES.

Some of this you might not even need if you weren’t me.  Things could easily be changed as well.  So the episode name and number of the episode might seem like overkill.  One or the other could be fine but I wanted to know the exact name that I was iconing as well.    Number icons is really the biggest thing along with what is next to it which tells me if I’ve uploaded those icons to tumblr yet.  The mega download really has nothing to do with iconing but everything to do with gifing and the fact that I’m slowly trying to get every single episode downloaded to my new external harddrive.

So this is what it looks like.  Here are two examples.  If I type in anything below 100 icons done?  It stays soft red (unless there is 90/99. I’ll show you the coloring for that in a second).  So make my icons via a batch system that is partly styled by @/glitchkingdesign   (who was so kind to like help me find a style that works and was like my friendly cheerleader.  I adore their work and like I will constantly rec them on here because I am a fan).   There is nothing like typing in over 100 in this and watching it go from soft red to soft green.

At the base when I started this every icon spot went straight to 0.  So even if I had some icons made for it,  it would be a solid 0 until the template was finished and I went back in to change things.

So if you see this I have 90 icons there.  This means I should at a later date try and go back to this episode and squeeze out a few more icons.  This likely means doing some aestheticy icons.  So faceless / half face icons are a must.  Now I already know that at least ONE episode of season one is going to likely not make the cut of 100 icons.  Then there is the fact that I know one episode I’m gonna be cutting out half the icons because I don’t want to color correct so I need to figure out how I’m going to mark those on my sheet.

So this piece has nothing to do with iconing but that yes at the end is more for my gifing section.  I love making gif sets but quality wise? The episode file itself is the way to go for the best qaulity  (thanks my fansite source blog helper group for teaching me this one)

Okay so now I have another section color change for anything not in an episode.  So you might be going “She’s not in this episode just the twins. How do I mark that?”  here is how.  I put not in episode.  This changes to a soft yellow/orange color.

When I update an icon page?  the sheet needs to be updated.  I go ahead and go from n/a to updated.  n/a makes it a soft red color while updated makes it a soft green.  With tumblr being a pain it makes me not want to update pages as fast as I make icons.  I’m sure later when I have a lot to do?  I will regret not doing it by icon update but for now I’m fine with what I have going on.

This section was a struggle and had to be adjusted so many times as I had no idea how make it do what I wanted accurately.    (  my one class of technology in school didn’t help me at all ).  I finally figured out the code that would help me get it.  So first thing first was I had to have it say ALL SEASONS first so that way the code wouldn’t mess up.  So the first thing I see total wise is how many icons I have in total on my laptop.  I then have a code for each season’s worth of information icon wise.  This all updates by itself when I change a number in the # of icons section. 

This part is also a thing.  I wanted to keep track of exactly how many episodes I’ve iconed,  how many icon episodes I’ve uploaded to tumblr, and how may in total episode wise there are.  This is because I have friends that go “How many episodes have you done so far.” and I don’t feel like counting each soft green in my # of icons section.

This shows you exactly my settings and what it looks like of how I made things turn to a different color when I type a certain thing in.

So I have this little section because I’d love to be able to point people in direction of credits and things.  My screencaps are either from myself or @glitchkingdesign   (a friend of mine).  The coloring psd is tricky.  I can’t tell you exactly which one it is as the file maker didn’t name their psd folder with a number but I can tell you who made it as in link you to their account so you can scroll through psds.  I also thought it was worth noting the border size and the size of my icons as well here.  I can now tell you without opening up one to check that I made it in 85x85 px for the size and the border is a solid white in 2 px wide.

If you want an in depth look at my organization for my laptop / hardrive?  I can gladly show you! I would actually love to do it because I’m a neat freak and love how I have my system set up as a whole.  I find it easy and just exactly what I need for myself.  So like totally feel free to ask if you are a person that likes organization and set up.  I always love seeing how everyone else does their computers because it shows a lot about them in a way. 

So in the span of writing this tutorial I did one single change and did the thing I’ve been wanting to do since I made this.  I now have pretty colors in the middle of it so that every section has the alternating color.    This whole thing makes my brain happy and makes it easier on me to tell someone information they might need to know.

[unforth]

Hi there! I absolutely loooove the destiel fic collection and think that it's a genius way to expose fans to fics that might not always get as much attention on fic recs and when searching on ao3. I was thinking of trying to create a similar collection for another fandom and was wondering if you have any tips? Or if there's anything that you wish you knew when you started it? Thank you!

Hi!! Just for openers, sorry I didn’t reply to this yesterday, my mom’s basement flooded and took with it all my writing time, sigh. ANYWAY. On to the topic at hand. How to make a “faves survey” for another fandom, and have it resemble what I’ve made for Destiel? Well, here’s what I’ve done, hopefully some of it will be applicable to you...

1. This is the most important part: Do NOT let it become or be perceived as a popularity contest. Never release the raw stats (except perhaps to a small number of people who you trust to help you). Never announce a “winner.” Never share a ranked list. Never act as if more votes equals better. Never ever suggest in anyway that your purpose to find “the best.” Treat people and fics who get one vote with just as much fanfare as people and fics who get 50 votes. I do release a “top 20″ list just because so many people asked, but even then, it’s in alphabetical order, and meant more as a snapshot. Encourage people to vote for their favorites that aren’t already in whatever collection you end up making, and encourage people to vote for things they don’t usually see on rec lists. Aim for an expansive range of types of fics being voted for, and make it clear - no ship shaming (or secondary ship shaming, if yours is ship-based like mine, rather than being general to a given fandom) or kink shaming. 

2. Keep the survey super simple. People don’t read complex instructions, and they’re not going to want to rank lists or anything like that. You can see the one I use here. Feel free to emulate it, copy it, modify it for your own purposes. I used to just do boxes but people would routinely put in way more than 5/10, and while I didn’t really mind the extras, it greatly increased the amount of work I had to do, and since the survey routinely gets a couple hundred replies that I go through, I decided to make it a little harder for people to go over the limits. Don’t bother asking for people’s names or trying to validate the results. I’ve tried. People don’t want to put their names, and validation encourages people not to submit...AND doesn’t prevent cheating...so is really pointless. Just keep it anonymous, after four rounds I can say...that works best.

3. And, speaking of people going over the limits, and cheating...people will cheat. No matter how clear you are that number of votes don’t matter, no matter how much you insist that whatever data you’re collecting will only be used in so-and-so a way...you will spot people “cheating,” for various definitions of the word cheating. People who vote for their own works. People will submit multiple surveys. People will “ballot box stuff” for their favorite(s). People will list more than the maximums you’ve asked them to. People will submit works from other ships, and - though it’s never happened to me - if you make it fandom-general I’ll lay heavy odds at least one dumbass will submit for some other fandom entirely. It happens in different permutations every time, some more obvious than others, but it happens. And the conclusion I reached is...so fucking what? In the end, since the idea is to highlight as many different great works as possible...screw it. Let people vote for themselves. Let people ballot box stuff. Let people submit multiple surveys, or list more than whatever maximums you’ve set. In the end, since every work is treated as equal and one vote is worth as much as a hundred...if they’re cheating to up the vote count, it’s irrelevant, and if they’re cheating to vote for more works, then yay! more works to include! and basically the only thing I’ve found that reduces cheating is to make it absolutely clear to people that I’d really rather they not but ultimately I can’t stop them, so do their thing I guess? And it does help. I got less cheating each time I do it, or at least less that I’m able to catch lol. (as a side note - the one exceptions is the “works for others ships.” Those you can see listed on the “INELIGIBLE” sheet of the spreadsheet I link below, but I don’t add them to the AO3 collection.)

4. Spreadsheets are your best friend. You’re going to want some way to organize the data you’re collecting. I’ve got a public version of the sheet I use that you can see here. It’s pretty similar to my “private” version, except the private version includes actual vote counts, separated by which time(s) I did the survey that the work in question got votes. I mostly use that data so I can do comparisons over the years (“this year X works were added to the collection that were never in it before!”) and because I like numbers. However, depending on how exactly you plan to use the data, you may not even need to tally vote counts, and you could do one that’s more similar to my public version. Also, if you make an AO3 collection, you’re going to want some way to track which works you’ve invited, which have been added, etc., cause otherwise it’s just a nightmare to keep track of. (a little more on this later).

5. Decide how and where you’re going to share your data - as an AO3 collection? As a public spreadsheet? On social media? Maybe you want to make a side Tumblr just for it? Or a Discord server? etc. etc. Like, I’ve got a pillowfort group (though I hardly use it) and a channel in a Discord server (thanks again to the PB folks for making space for me!) with the AO3 collection being the main portal. You want to make sure that it’s advertised enough that people know it exists, and also be prepared that short term you’ll hear basically no feedback on whether people use it, and even long term it’ll be once in a blue moon and suddenly eight people will be like WAIT YOU’RE THE PERSON BEHIND THAT THING I LOVE THAT THING. In that respect it can feel a little thankless but I’ve definitely found that people do use it, it’s just that there’s no real way for people to let YOU know they’re using it (and, honestly...good? This isn’t really about us, after all, it’s about all these fic writers, the goal is to bring attention to them, not ourselves, we’re just a go-between for the writers and the readers.)

6. For making an AO3 collection, you’ll have to invite every single work individually. Some people have their accounts set to auto-accept invites, but otherwise whether the work actually gets added will depend on the authors. Some people will never accept the invite. Some people won’t know how to accept the invite. Some people will accept the invite and then subsequently remove their work. Some people have left these parts completely and will never even see the invite. That’s why it’s important to track who has added and who hasn’t, and periodically double check it (I double check every six months or so). For the people who don’t accept the invites for whatever reason, you can bookmark the item to the collection. HOWEVER, if you do this with your personal account, every single one of those bookmarks will be listed under your personal AO3, which is why I ultimately made the Faves survey its own account - it’s entirely to facilitate bookmarking. You can also use the “Bookmark External Work” feature to link to works that aren’t on AO3, and to tag them to whatever extent you want to. Here’s some examples of how I chose to bookmark external works.

7. Things will inevitably get complicated. Authors will change their names. People who do the survey will use shorthand you’ve never heard of for some fic you don’t know. People will misspell things and you’ll either recognize it even with the typo...or you won’t. People will vote for things that list eight different ships and you’ll have no idea which one is endgame. People will vote for things that have been deleted, or they’ll tell you it’s definitely on AO3 when it’s not, it’s on some other platform. The list of random things I’ve had to deal with is stupidly long and I’ve probably forgotten even more. Just...roll with it. Do your best. Ask for help (“Someone nominated a fic abbreviated as ABC to the collection and didn’t give the author and I have no idea what it is, help me Tumblr!”). And in the end, if you’ve done everything you can think of and you still don’t know...let it go. It’s just not that worth worrying about. And sometimes if you step away and look again in a few days you’ll figure out another way to search and it’ll pop up. But honestly I’ve got a handful of works I still haven’t been able to track down, and that one work that someone submitted that’s only available in Finnish and is explicit and behind a log-in wall on a small independent Finnish-only fic archive...well, I spoke to the author and confirmed the work exists, but otherwise...whelp, it’s not linked, and I did my best. That’s all you can do.

8. No matter what you do, someone somewhere will probably get upset about it. The first time I did the survey, when it got the most traction, I actually got a little hate, and I got some anons who were like “oooooo did you know that ~x~ is cheating” and I had a little “HOW DARE YOU NOT PLAY FAVORITES WHAT ABOUT MY PERSONAL FAVE?” and just...decide how you’re approaching the survey, and stick to your guns, and if anyone is a douche, hit the block button. And, related...

9. Transparency is most important imo. Not transparency for vote counts obviously, but transparency for what you’re doing, and why you’re doing it, and what you hope to accomplish. Make sure your goals are clear from the start (mine weren’t that first time, hence some of the problems I encountered) - if it’s to highlight as wide a range of works as possible, say that. If it IS to pick a favorite, say that too. Just be clear, and honest, and above board, and it should work out okay.

10. Side note...one of the saddest things about all this is that if you do it over an extended period you’ll see authors deleting their works. As such, I personally chose to download every work that gets a vote, that way it’s at least preserved. I then expanded that into a much larger archive that I’m still adding to all the time, trying to save as much Destiel as possible. But then, I’m an archivist at heart, whether you want to branch out in that kind of direction is up to you.

...okay, that’s everything I can think of. Hopefully I didn’t scare you too bad. I don’t know what fandom/ship you’re looking at but for perspective...first time I did the survey I got about 400 replies, and then the next two times it got about 200, and this most recent time it got about 300. I chose to do mine annually, on the assumption that gives some time for people to come and go for fandom and a lot of new works to get created, and I deliberately timed it for about a month after the biggest fandom event (the DCBB) that generates fics, to give people time to read those fics and consider them in their voting. For me, that means I happen to run the survey starting on January 1st, and I keep it limited to 15 days, since usually it tapers off anyway. But you could try experimenting with different schedules, or leaving it open all the time, etc., it just depends how much time you want to devote to monitoring and updating it. For me, I mostly want to do a big burst of work and then not have to think about it most of the rest of the time, lol.

So...questions? comments? thoughts? wanna tell me I’m dead wrong? I’m all ears, lemme know how I can help!

[jq37]

On a scale of 1-10, how difficult is it to make a podcast? I’ve been following ANA since you first announced it (I’m so excited for it) and the other day I came up with an idea that I think would make a good series

Hey, thanks for the message! And thanks for being interested. Absolutely No Adventures has been a lot of fun to put together and it's nice to see that people are looking forward to it.

As for your question I'd say maybe a 6? But that's a really incomplete answer and I did a lot of searching for help on how to get started when I decided to do this so I'll give you  more in depth breakdown of the steps and if you have more questions you can totally message me off of anon.

(1) Write The Thing

So yeah, no getting around it. The first thing you have to do is just write the podcast. For some people, this is the hardest part. For me, it was probably the easiest part because it's the thing I was most familiar with. You already have an idea, which is great. So now you probably want to sit down and figure out things like is this a limited miniseries or will it be on-going with multiple seasons? How long will each episode be?

You also want to make sure you write for the medium. For example, in a book, you can just say, "She hugged him." But if it's audio, you have to make there's some kind of indication for that (ie: Man: Oh, and now we're hugging).

Format doesn't matter too too much as long as it's consistent. I used film script format in Celtx (which is free) but people also use Google Docs. Just pick what's easiest for you and get going.

I also highly recommend you finish a full season of scripts (or the whole set if it's a mini series) before you move on. Some people write as they go and if you want to do that, cool, but it's one less thing to worry about once you're in production and you don't want writer's block to slow you down once you're already going.

(2) Casting

So this is where I left my comfort zone and had to learn to do things I was unfamiliar with. The good news here is, there are a lot of actors available to be a part of projects like this for varying amounts of money or no money at all if it's an interesting enough project. I will advocate for paying people if you can though because I wanna make money off of my art someday so I think it's only fair to reciprocate. If it is unpaid, just be upfront about that. It's common among indie projects so it's not scandalous or anything.  

Anyway, the basic process here is you write up a casting call that says what the project is, what the deadline is for auditioning, and has some audition lines for each characters (called sides). Then you post on Twitter which has a pretty active voice actor community plus some other places like reddit and certain FB groups and auditions will start rolling in. Casting calls tend to spread--people came to me from Discords I'd never heard of. Once you get a bunch you can pick who you like or, if you can't decide, invite back some people for callbacks and then pick.

I think 2 weeks is a good length of time to keep auditions open, longer if you're looking for something really specific.

It's also possible to simplify this step if you happen to know friends who have mics and wanna help or if you want to do a podcast with a very small cast--maybe even just one person who could be you. There are a number of podcasts with that format. I maybe should have mentioned this during writing but I'll mention it here instead. Anything you have to write, you will have to produce, so keep that in mind. Like, when you're writing, it's easy to have a bunch of extras and sound effects and crazy things happening, but remember that you have to bring that all to life later, so maybe a different character can give that exposition so you don't have to cast ANOTHER person as an extra.

(That being said, most actors I've worked with are chill with doing an extra voice or two.)

Oh! Also. Time zones are a thing. Keep that in mind. I do no regret casting an Australian, a Brit, and Americans across the country because they were all fantastic, but it was hell to schedule.

(3) Recording

So there are 3 main ways to record--in person in studio, remotely together, and remotely apart.

Option one is kind of a no-go right now because of Covid so let's talk about the other 2.

Remotely Together means you get all your actors on a Zoom call with you and they're all in their studios and you record as if you're all in the same room. I did this for ANA and I think it's the best way to do it cause people get to react to each other in real time which is great. The only thing is, it means you have to line up everyone's schedules which is a total bear. Still, if you can do it, worth it.

Remotely Apart means you give everyone their scripts and tell them to send in their lines in x weeks. I did this for some episodes of Secret Podcast Number 2 and it works fine. But for the more emotional eps, we still recorded together. This method is good because it gets rid of timing troubles which was necessary since we're doing a December release (which, trust me, is crazy quick for what we’re doing), but there are some things, you want people to be able to adjust their intensity levels for in the moment.

Either way, but especially in scenario 2, I'd suggest you do a table read first where everyone gets on call and reads through everything. It helps everyone get a feel for each other so they're not going in cold.

Wrt directing, it can feel a little weird to tell people how to talk or inflect or how much they should be crying, but, as long as you're polite, just go for it. They're actors. They can take the notes. That's what they do. All of my actors were always super great about it.

(4) Production

Alright so you have lines in from all your actors.

The next question is, how are you going to handle your production? The actual putting together of the lines and cleaning them up and balancing and adding effects and all that?

I specifically wrote ANA to have relatively simply sound design and it was *still* too much for me to handle so I opted to outsource for that and it was for sure where most of a budget went. If you happen to know how to do this or have the time to learn, you'll def save yourself some money. It is still very time consuming though. The one part that I did do--deciding which takes to use from the lines my actors sent (aka: picking takes) and putting them together to send to my sound guy--took super long as is.

If you're going to hire/recruit someone to do this stuff for you, I recommend you do it before you cast because they'll be able to let you know if the actors who want have compatible audio quality.

IDK what standard procedure is here but the way it works with my guy is I send him lines and then he puts stuff together and sends me a draft of the episode. Then I say what I want changed in an excel spreadsheet with time stamps and we go back and forth until it's done.

(5) Ancillary Stuff

Theme music! You probably want that! There are a couple of routes you can go here. You can get something from a music library--either totally free or for a relatively small fee. This is the most cost effective but will probably more generic and likely in use somewhere else if it's fully free.

You can write it yourself if that's a thing you're good at obviously. Or you can pay someone to do it which will probably cost you a couple hundred bucks but will be totally tailored and unique.

Cover Art! Also very important. People do judge things by their covers so I def rec getting a really dope one made. Canva is also your friend for like icons and stuff.

A Website! You'll want at least a basic one for like contact info, transcripts, stuff like that. I just use Carrd. You can get a pretty classic, website-like setup by using sections and you can link to a custom URL for only like 13 bucks a year which is great.

(6) Marketing

OK so, I'm gonna be real with you, this is the step I'm working on now so I'm still figuring it out!

Besides posting on social media and stuff, you also need to make a press kit which is basically a doc with all the info about you and the show. You can see mine on the ANA site.

I also have mood-board-y graphics I made on Canva to drop with each ep (or ahead of them. Haven’t quite decided). 

I will say, I’ve made friends in the community and a lot of them have hyped up my stuff without me even asking. Which isn’t me saying, “Make friends for what they can do for you.” Gross. What I’m saying is that just participating in the community can help.

Anyway, this is getting way too long. I hope this was at least somewhat helpful. Like I said, if you (or anyone else) has more specific questions, hit me up!

[gradschoolstyle]

How I prepped for the academic job market

I am by no means an expert on academic jobs just because I now (miraculously?) have one. But I have been told that I am organized, and, yes, that is because being an anxious person sometimes means having a system for everything. So before I totally bury all memories of the academic job market, I thought I would put together a timeline of some of the things I did to get ready to search for academic jobs…

My to-do list started very informally in the first year of my PhD program. I know that sounds over-the-top-early but the job market takes a lot of work. Checking things off one at a time helped me to feel in control. Here’s how I prepared for the academic job market as a PhD student:

Year 1

Do research that excites you: Enthusiasm for my research ended up being my momentum through a lot of the hard stuff that came later. Try to set yourself up to do the research that you want to do right away. This might include some trial-and-error and trying out different topics until you find the one.

Read The Professor is In: My MA advisor insisted I read this the summer before I started the PhD and, as always, she was totally right. When I told other grad students I had read a book about how tough the job market is they either said “I don’t need to read that yet” or “I don’t want to know how bad it is.” Ummmm…denial is not a good strategy. Knowing what you’re getting into is a good strategy. Even though the information about prepping job market materials was not yet relevant, having a framework for what would be evaluated helped me to define my grad school goals.

Year 2

Write papers that help you figure out your research area: I was pretty bad at this in my MA (I wrote papers about everythingggg). It’s ok to spend some time exploring topics, but once I had a topic area, I tried to use grad seminar papers to narrow in on that topic. This involved writing some papers that ended up being duds, and some that ended up being important parts of my dissertation. This leads to…

Ask about publishing: In seminars, I tried to have meetings with professors where I told them I wanted an academic job and needed experience publishing. They were usually willing to help develop seminar papers that had (somewhat?) original arguments in them, which is necessary for publishing. I was also not afraid to ask for lots of publishing help–how does it work? where should I submit this? can I use a cover letter you have written as a template? Publishing is confusing and took me a while to get used to.

Network smarter, not harder: This was the year I realized that going to giant conferences and hoping to meet people who did similar things was just not working. I reassessed and submitted to several smaller conferences that had the explicit goal of having senior faculty mentor grad students. It was amazing! First, these conferences were genuinely helpful, second, they were genuinely…genuine. I didn’t feel that I had to do any super fake networking anymore because I was really there to have conversations that developed my research.

Year 3

Read job postings: If your discipline has a listserv, subscribe, if not, check out the InsideHigherEd job postings. Note any trends in hiring. I don’t think you can totally pivot toward every job (duh) but you can think about how to make your application more friendly to what everyone seems to want. In my case, people who teach organizational communication were often also being asked to teach several other classes, so I made sure to ask to teach one of those so it would be on my record before the job market.

Submit, submit, submit: This is the year I got the most journal submissions under review. Some got accepted, some got (mega) rejected. Most needed several rounds of hardcore revisions that took 12-14 months. Submitting in year 3 gave me time to do those revisions so that I could use the articles as writing samples on applications.

Year 4

Prep materials: I drew on as many resources as possible to prep my job market materials–career services helped with my CV, our graduate teaching program on campus helped me writing my teaching and diversity statements, I asked recent graduates for example cover letters, my advisor read and edited cover letters, my DAD read and edited cover letters (what can I say he loves helping with grammar). It takes a village. Use the village. Oh, now is also a good time to reread TPII book for tips on writing decent materials.

Get organized: I had a spreadsheet where I put all of the relevant job information, especially deadlines, keywords, and information about each department.

Ask your letter writers: I did this in August. I also made them all a “job application digest”–just a word document with all of the jobs I submitted to and some notes about what I had said in my cover letter, so they could tailor rec letters.

Throw yourself at your dissertation: Every interview asked how I was planning to finish the dissertation. Making real progress made this question much easier. I definitely lost myself to the job market for a solid month in November. Then, I realized that my dissertation was the only thing I had control over. So I got back to work.

And here are some other resources that I also enjoyed reading:

Thoughts on diversity statements: What the heck even are they?, plus thoughts on the hidden curriculum of college and designing inclusive teaching on campus (Ps don’t just use these to write a diversity statement use them to actually do work in your classroom and campus environment so that what you write on your diversity statement is genuine).

A breakdown on cover letters

Another great post on the job hunt

Campus visit small talk

This post originally appeared on my WordPress

[doublel27]

All I Want for Christmas Is Mariah - T

So, I was driving to work this morning and heard about this Mariah Carey Christmas interview, and I had to write a bit of a shitpost fanfiction about David pestering Patrick for the Mariah Christmas of his dreams.   Read it on AO3

Wednesday mornings were one of the days Patrick liked to hole up in the back room and look over spreadsheets of sales and make notes for them to have sales report meetings and restocking lists made and deciding what to put on sale. David had managed to make it in only fifteen minutes after opening so Patrick could focus while David put out holiday product and helped customers. He had been heavily distracted by his Mariah notifications going off and the new interview she had done with Cosmopolitan UK was running through his brain. After he rang up the last guest in the store and the bell jangled, signaling an empty building, David hustled back to inform Patrick of the plan he was forming.

David leaned in the doorway of the back room to watch Patrick idly flip his pen while looking over the columns of numbers. Patrick’s navy button down was rolled to just above his elbows and very attractive forearms. David refused to let himself get distracted though. “What if...mmm...what if we took a little trip this Christmas? Like, to Aspen.”

“What?”

Patrick caught the pen neatly but otherwise stilled. David figured he was looking for more information.

“Yeah, like a long-weekend jaunt.” David’s hands began moving along with his explanation. “Enjoy the sights, do some outdoorsy stuff, if that’s your thing.”

“Hon, we’re planning our wedding and deposits are due to several vendors and we have currently stocked the with brand new, rather expensive, Christmas merchandise.” Patrick turned his head back to look at David. “Why would we go to Aspen?”

“Well, Mariah may have done an interview with Cosmo UK which is essentially a guide to having a Very Mariah Christmas Experience.”

Patrick’s eyes went soft around the edges and he managed a smile despite being interrupted when he usually made David promise not to bother him. “David, you may be my Mariah Carey, but you are not actually Mariah Carey.”

“So, Aspen...” David tried again.

“No.” Patrick turned back to his computer screen. He quietly added, “Unless we don’t need to spend eight grand on catering for a sixty five person wedding.”

“Okay,” David began, not wanting to rehash that detail. “Half of the guest list is your family and then there’s at least ten people in this town who I cannot name that somehow made it on the list. And that price includes very correct linens and settings.”

Patrick did not say anything but looked at the spreadsheet that he had once explained was about the bigger spreadsheet and took notes. David felt his lips purse at Patrick’s back.

“So, definitely no Aspen?”

“No, David.”

David decided that it really meant not this year and tucked it away for later. Thankfully, Aspen was just one part of the greater Mariah Carey Christmas plan.

“Well,” David said, glancing down at his phone to an easier item on the list, “How about we do some last minute Christmas shopping on the 23rd and 24th.”

David paused for dramatic effect and Patrick’s hand just came up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Clearly, Patrick did not have the vision of them bundled up in cute outerwear with spiked hot chocolate or cider, making their way through a quaint shopping center. David might have to paint it for him.

Patrick didn’t bother to turn around for this one. David watched as his very capable fiancé continued to prepare for their meeting tomorrow. Still, he was listening as he wrote notes. “David, as our store is hoping to capitalize on those very last minute shoppers, Rose Apothecary is going to need the owner and creative director in house. Also, considering we are shipping gifts to my parents and to the Galapagos for your sister, we are going to need to do some early shopping.“

“Well, we can at least do three Christmas trees,” David threw out.

Patrick didn’t even look at him as he commented, “You barely spend enough time at the motel to justify having one there.”

“I meant three in the apartment.”

This time the pen clattered and Patrick spun fully around in his chair. Flustered Patrick was a rarity and David found himself pulling his face backwards as emotions flowed. “What? Where?”

“One in the bedroom, one in the living room and then a small, Charlie Brown tree, also in the living room, because we do not have a rec room.”

“Well, considering the bedroom and the living room are the same room—“

“A problem I definitely pointed out when we toured it with Ray,” David reminded him.

“The point is, we only need the one Charlie Brown tree at the apartment, because that’s what fits. You can have your big one here in the store.”

David sniffed, “Mariah puts three in her Aspen house. They say two trees in the article, but when you read the interview she very clearly stated three distinct trees.” David was actually very insulted on Mariah’s behalf that the writer had misrepresented her words.

“Well, as we are not in Aspen, you can have Schitt’s Creek level trees instead of Aspen level trees.”

“Patrick!” David whined, as his head fell backwards.

“David, we are not getting smothered by trees in our own home. We have to actually live there.”

Patrick stood, wiping his hands on the new dark wash Levi’s that actually worked. “Give me the list.”

David was tempted to not give Patrick the list, considering how his Christmas plan had gone so far. However, Patrick had that serious look on his face with the little crinkle showing up on his forehead. David almost felt a little bad interrupting the morning routine with Mariah and in that spirit passed his phone with the open article over to Patrick.

David waited, nerves jangling slightly, because now, standing in the back of the store with Patrick reading the list, everything started to feel rather frivolous. Patrick however was regarding the list carefully.

“I really like number one.” Patrick glanced up and gave David a smile that bordered on teasing, “But as we are spending Christmas with your parents I am going to leave the ‘Zen Zone’ to you and your mom to sort out.”

David felt his face pull into some rather unattractive shapes as Patrick returned to the article, thumbing through the lines. “We discussed two and three. Four,” Patrick paused, his face forming into a smirk. David swallowed, as the smirk had traveled up to dance in Patrick’s eyes. “We don’t have kids to invite a Santa over in the evening but if you have some secret fantasies around Mr. Claus you haven’t mentioned yet, we could work with that.”

David made an utterly hideous sputtering sound and reached for the phone. “Give it-“

“Five is easy. We already open presents Christmas morning. We solved six. A nineteen foot tree, really, with what ceilings. Seven...” Patrick looked up at David and stared without blinking. “I have never seen you cook.”

“You would be the sous chef, in that situation. Obviously.”

“Ah. Noted.”

Patrick didn’t miss a beat. “We can host a game night with Christmas films in the background, so that’s eight. Alexis isn’t here to torture you but we may need to invite Ray to round out the numbers for game night. And nine, you already have a giant Christmas Spotify playlist with Mariah every fifth song, but if you want to keep working on it knock yourself out.”

Patrick handed back the phone and David clutched it to his chest, like the precious thing it was. “I just want to have a Mariah level Christmas.”

“I think we just established you will have as close to a Mariah level Christmas as the budget allows. Also, if you want to dress up in a Santa suit I think we can make it work.” Patrick’s non-eyebrows lifted suggestively.

David felt his own nose wrinkle and flair as his face journeyed through that horrifying image. “Eww, no. I am going to go look at gold lights and angel and butterfly ornaments for the store tree.”

“As long as we can sell them.”

The gasp slipped out of David’s mouth before he could stop it and Patrick chucked at him. David narrowed his eyes at Patrick. David found his voice to be exceptionally prim as he said, “We are not selling my rendition of Mariah Carey’s tree. I will see if anything is reasonable to stock in the store.”

“Sell some of the Christmas lights and ornaments we already have in stock first please,” Patrick called out, returning to his earlier task.

David stuck his tongue out at his fiancé’s back and slipped into the floor of the store, planning to use the front computer for some investigative shopping. The display tree was going to look fucking amazing. David also decided he would make the hot cocoa with butterscotch schnapps happen though. This Christmas he was going to work on making it the Most Mariah Christmas he could.

[feel199x]

to protect our district— 09

TO PROTECT OUR DISTRICT — CH. 09; THE DEVIL

I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX masterlist

♟ ceo!hwang hyunjin, mafia boss!hwang hyunjin, mafia!au

♟ summary: basically this vine

♟ warnings: trauma symptoms, minor character death, depictions of blood and fighting, angst, themes of sexism

♟ a/n: i’ve been gone for a while but!! as a gift, this chapter is twenty three pages long!! i promise i’m doing my best to update, there’s just been a lot going on! thank you for all the support, thank you for keeping my passion for writing alive!! ALSO trying out a new format!! let me know if u like it!!

♟ song rec: believe what you want, blue rose, & painting

 You gripped the side of your desk, inconspicuously shoving the slip of paper in your mouth. You weren’t stupid enough to throw it away, and definitely not stupid enough to keep it on your person. Were you going to go? You didn’t know, and you definitely didn’t want to have to make any more life-threatening decisions if you could help it.

 There was something sort of comforting about a monotonous life like the one you were pretending to live. Always knowing what was going to happen, doing simple things like organizing schedules, sending faxes, and making spreadsheets.

 You’d like to imagine you had lived the type of life and family dynamics that you had seen from time to time on television. It hadn’t occurred to you that this type of life wasn’t normal, not until very, very recently. How was it fair that most people’s problem consisted of what to wear, what they looked like, the drama between friends and what the latest text from their romantic partner actually means. You wanted that type of simpler life, you wanted more knowledge when you were a child. You felt stupid, you wanted to scold yourself and you want to yell and tell that child how stupid, foolish and utterly naive she was.

 But that child needs sympathy and protection, just like you still do.

 It was all getting too much the more you thought about, making your head spin.

 Your eyes were burning, and it could have very well been from staring at your desktop screen instead of actually doing anything. Something just felt wrong, and you didn’t know what. It was like a clock striking the final hour, and all it could say was wrong! with every chime. Your head was drooping, exhaustion lulling you even as paranoia consumed you. The sound of carousel music jolted you awake, making your desk chair squeak as several coworkers took a quick glance at you. And for a brief second, you swore you saw Sir Hwang and his record player. He was there, and then he wasn’t. Your sanity was slipping for you. You rubbed your eyes, shaking your head as your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Getting up, you smoothed your pencil skirt as you found yourself pouring yourself a cup of coffee, your eighth one in the span of two hours.

 You should’ve been off your rocker, being able to complete more than what was tasked to you that day. And you were- off your rocker that is, but in a different way. All this caffeine coursing in your blood made it impossible for you to sleep, even as your eyes drooped and your body begged. And yet, you were hyperaware. Every noise, the rustling of paper, the tapping of paper, the hum of the printers, all of it echoed in your brain.

 You watched as everyone leave for the lunch break, and you slipped into a leaving crowd of people who didn’t work on your floor. The elevator filled up with people and you crouched down, pulling a hoodie over your head and tucking your hair into the back. You moved your way to the front, your coworkers too invested in picking the restaurant that they should go to next. If they were suspicious of what you were doing, you wouldn’t have known. Not now, or later. You tagged along before swiveling into an incoming crowd, going back into the building.

 You’d never been in the surveillance room, and it was locked when you came across it. It was a lot better than having the guards actually in there because you had yet to come up with an excuse or more likely, distraction. You figured they must’ve been on patrol, but still, an uneasiness made your lips tight and chapped. You slipped in after playing with the lock for a minute or two, and you hurried to play with the security footage. Something felt off, definitely off, even if you were unsure of what exactly was wrong. You gave yourself some time to make it to Changbin’s desk, out and then into the building again as if you were returning from lunch with the rest of your coworkers.

 It took you longer than you had wished, and you knew that the guards would have been returning from their rounds. (If that was really, indeed what they were doing.)

   If anyone was to have information about the feds visiting, and more importantly, the trip that you were all soon about to take, it’d have to be him. Sure, he had said that he wanted to help. But you didn’t know if you couldn’t trust him. Hell, you didn’t even know if you could trust Hyunjin. You pulled your gloves on and went through his papers. Until finally, after looking over your shoulder more than a dozen times, you had found a few sheets of loose paper. And though some information was redacted, you rushed over to the copier. Glancing nervously at the ticking clock, there was a lump in your throat as you tapped your foot. Something was wrong. Something was clearly so, so wrong. And yet, you couldn’t make out what it was.

 The copier took forever, and with each somehow delayed second, you grew more and more panicked.

 To make matters worse, Hyunjin hadn’t even come in. You knew he couldn’t have been dead, his father was very adamant of securing his son’s place as an heir, even if that wasn’t what his son particularly wanted. You weren’t afraid that Hyunjin was dead, you were afraid that he was very nearly dead.

 It had only happened a few times before, but that was enough for it to stay lodged in your brain. A fervor hatred like gasoline to a forest fire. You’d never want to see you Hyunjin like that again, face swollen, his identity nearly shrouded with all the blood covering his face. His father had found out that he had skipped several lessons, to be in your company, no less. And he had still been smiling, crawling into your bedroom as you cleaned him up. He had made you laugh when he saw you cry at his pain, telling you not to worry as he winced from the alcohol as you cleaned his cuts.

 Later you had learned that his dad had challenged him to a fight, under the assumption that if Hyunjin had been skipping, it must be because he had surpassed the skill currently being taught.

 Looking back at it now, it made you even more resentful and anxious. So terribly, terribly anxious.

 Your bullet wound was beginning to stick to the inside of your blouse, and growing more uncomfortable as it began to wet your shirt, a growing humid and wet patch starting to grow on your blouse. But you ignored it, telling yourself you could stand it a while longer. Just a while longer until you could slip away and patch it yourself. This wouldn’t be happening if your first response wasn’t aiming to fucking kill you instead of you know, providing actual first aid. You pulled your shirt, swiveling your head to look for Chan’s desk. You couldn’t do much except for wipe the affected area off with tissues so that’s what you did, folding the paper into small squares as you tried to ignore the smell. You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last couple days as if it was some sort of fever dream instead of reality because it would’ve been much better if that was, in fact, the case.

 Before you could think- and sometimes you really wish you’d think your actions through- you found yourself walking to Chan’s desk with determination. You leaned over the wall that separated Chan’s cubicle from his coworker, an overwhelming itching sensation coming from

 “Hey, ____, how’s the wound coming? Do you want me to have a look at it later?”

 “Are you sure your boss is going to be okay with it?”

 He blinked, but didn’t miss a beat answering your question, even if he turned towards his computer. “I’m not sure what you’re implying, ____, we’re a team.”

 You placed your hand on his glass desk, sure you’d leave some fingerprints but you didn’t care- and leaned to face him, your face merely a breath away.

 “I’m not a fool, I know where your loyalties lie. But it’s tradition you know, district nine fights for answers.”

 “I’m not going to fight you, ___.”

   “Why not-?”

 He looked straight at you, teeth slightly clenched but his face otherwise blank, “Because you suffered a bullet wound less than a few days ago, and need I remind you- we’re-,” he paused with each word, “a fucking team!”

 “Some shitty team if you were ordered to give me fucking gangrene.”

 He clenched his jaw, furrowing his eyebrows at the computer. He tapped his fingers against his desk a couple of times, leaving behind oily residue from their pads.

 “You wanna fight? Fine. But not here. Have some fucking decency, ____.”

 He leaned back into his chair, pushing it away from you to continue whatever work he was assigned. He was right, in some sense, if you fought here- Sir Hwang would know.

 “But it’s not because I want to, or because I’m guilty of anything,” he said as he began to file a few sheets of paper, “But because I have a feeling you won’t leave until I agree to it. And maybe if you lose, you’ll finally understand that not everybody’s against you.”

 You walked away, dumbfounded. And sat in your desk chair repeating his words in your head until it was finally time to leave. You zoned out staring at Hyunjin’s office, your desktop going dark as your body was finally starting to give in. There was so much to be worried about, and it all felt like it was going to suffocate you. It would’ve been better if Hyunjin was here, just seeing him right now would give you an inexplicable type of comfort. Still, there was an air of guilt around the thought of Hyunjin. Should you tell him before it’s too late? You knew he was aware that something was going on, and you had never been one to keep things from him. It felt like you owed it to him, but you couldn’t be hasty. One wrong move and it’s all gone. It’s all over.

 Your body was beginning to shut down, your shoulder area throbbing and growing more uncomfortable by the second. You should’ve fixed it before everyone had returned from their break, it would’ve cost you this discomfort. But even the thought of someone seeing you walking out with a roll of gauze- the thought of someone seeing you vulnerable- that was too intimidating for you to even risk it.

 The office floor had cleared out without you noticing. Thankfully, you had gone somewhat on autopilot, typing up an email to another company the Hwangs wanted to collaborate with. Jisung leaned across the desk from you, a small smile as he took a peek at your screen.

 “Are you almost done? I didn’t want to leave without you.”

 “I’ll be right down, you can go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

 “Listen…”

 His voice trailed off and you looked up after you sent the email, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Jisung?”

 “I heard you were fighting Chan.”

 You grabbed your bag and rubbed your aching heels before slipping them into your flats. “And you think I shouldn’t do it.”

 He fluffed his hair nervously and looked to the side, “I’ve seen him train before, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Considering your condition and all.”

 “You’ve seen him train? You guys know each other?”

 “No- uh, not really? I’ve only sparred with him a couple of times before.”

 “How is that possible? The only other kid I’ve met is Hyunjin, I didn’t even know you guys existed!”

 He pursed his lips, “Listen, let’s talk about this another time. Just, don’t fight him, okay? He won’t think less of you.”

 “To the contrary,” you slipped under the strap of your purse, “he will. You will. Everyone will. There’s a lot I don’t know, but I promise I’m not as weak as you guys think. I’ll prove it.”

 He followed you anxiously, twirling the keys of the van. “I don’t think we should fight, especially not physically-!”

 “What’re you so worried about Jisung? Chan could’ve killed me, I deserve to know why.”

 He looked down, running his fingers along the grooves of the keys. “Just be careful, okay?”

 The tensions were high inside the car. Jisung and Changbin stealing nervous glances towards you and each other. You pretended not to notice. Chan, however, was as calm and poised as ever. He tapped the steering wheel along to the beat of the song. The sun was still to set as you looked out the tinted windows, the sky painted soft watercolors as day dripped into night.  No matter what happened, the world goes on. Everyone you see, holding hands with their lover and walking their dogs, their lives will keep on going. And you wanted to be like them, you yearned to walk a cute dog and hold hands with Hyunjin in a park. It was spring after all, and you’d had very few chances to enjoy it. Before you knew it, the flower’s petals would already have fallen. Summer would pass and the leaves would turn brown and the trees would become bare.

 And then it would come again, it would be spring then summer and winter all over again. Nature knew, nature was never changing and ever-changing all in one, and you? You didn’t even know what would happen within an hour from now. This was not what nature intended.

 You wondered, to yourself, if this was indeed a game. And if it was, were you winning? Right now, who had the upper hand? Who was making the smarter moves? At least in Chess, you could see all the pieces, but you weren’t even sure what your next step would really be.

 In the end, who would be saying checkmate?

 A surge of doubt came across you and you clutched the hem of your skirt, feeling the stitches on the underside. You bit the inside of your cheek. Was your goal in vain?

 The car came to a stop, the opening of doors and jangling keys taking you out of your trance. You didn’t have time to think about it, even if you wanted to. Jisung hurried off with Chan, giving you a nervous smile as he walked in. “We’ll see you in the training room in the west wing.” Changbin lingered behind, walking by your side. “You’ve probably never been by there, right? I’ll go with you.”

 You nodded, thanking him in your head. He followed you as you walked to your family’s small part of the estate, your hand was on the doorknob before you suddenly remembered.

 “Sorry Changbin, I just remembered I keep my training stuff in the North Hall. You ever been there?”

 He nodded, “Only a couple times, by accident. Do you really think you can win this spar?”

 The both of you hurried along, “I do. Or, at the very least, give him a hell of a time.” He gave you a small smile, keeping along with you as you broke into a run for the north hall. You reached the room where you were scheduled to train. Without having to ask, Changbin turned around as you stumbled around to change. You ignored the dizziness and nausea in you, chalking it up to repressed anxiety. “Aren’t you scared? Chan is quite big, and I’m sure Jisung has told you about his capabilities.”

 “Why is it that none of you are concerned about Chan’s well-being? How do you know I’m not stronger than him?”

 “Because, well-.”

 “Because I’m a girl right?”

 “That’s not fair, ___, he’s had more years of training and he’s just-!”

 “Just what, Changbin? You can turn around now, let’s go.”

 He sighed and put his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, sorry. But regardless, you still have a bullet wound. We’re in the mafia, we don’t exactly play by the rules.”

 You shrugged, fixing your shirt as the pair of you ran off to the West Wing. You ran, silently wincing with every jolt of pain that came when your heel hit the floor. Fortunately, Chan hadn’t arrived yet. You stretched for a few minutes, Changbin joining you in silence. “Bet you miss Hyunjin. Huh?” You kept a neutral face and nodded, you knew this was Changbin’s specialty. You felt so transparent with him, unsure if it was his demeanor and character or title and status within the group. “I’m going to check up on him after the spar,” you looked at yourself in the mirror, “Probably spend the rest of the night with him. I’m scared his dad hurt him.”

 You spent a minute or two in silence, abruptly broken by the opening of the door. Jisung gave you another nervous smile, throwing you a small hands up and Chan ignored your gaze. You got up slowly, pulling your shirt again. You had made sure to grab a loose, flowy one, but your wound kept sticking to it. Your legs were starting to feel weak, the floor seeming to ripple underneath you. Still, you were calm. Probably calmer than you should’ve been. You swallowed hard and faced Chan.

 He didn’t look at you, but instead, past you. He was a little less than neutral, a little more than blank. He seemed slightly annoyed, not angry- but instead gave you the sense that he wished he didn’t have to deal with this.

 “Let’s get this over with okay? Maybe I’ll knock some sense into you.” He finally looked at you, an intense gaze that could make anyone back down. And maybe it was the haze, maybe the lack of sense that had strung you this far, but you weren’t scared. Not agitated, or irritated either. Just calm.

“Thought you’d be above trash talking before sparring, Bang Chan.”

 “I’m not above anything.”

 “Lovely moral compass you have there.”

 “I wasn’t the one crying because my boyfriend would sacrifice me in a heartbeat.”

 You didn’t mean to, but you found his nose blood on your knuckles before you could give it a first thought.

 Now you were pissed.

 His eyes began to water, and he was startled, staring at you dumbfounded. He wiped his nose, the blood leaving a trail up the back of his hand. It was barely a second before he started swinging. You felt it hit your shoulder, a burst of sharp pain engulfing your shoulder.

 Dirty whore.

 You found yourself retreating, even though you had initially planned on staying on the offense. You needed a second, just one- to recuperate. But that wasn’t a privilege you had.

 You stumbled, struggling to keep a stance as the pain faded into an ache. He swung again and you slid next to him, and with both your legs you trapped one of his pulling his free arm down so he would fall. You kept pinned down, but you knew not to grow confident. He broke free of your grasp, using his leg to throw you over his shoulder. Your back hit the ground hard, but you rolled before he could keep you do. You were growing light-headed, the room beginning to spin but you went on. He had thrown you hard, and was not about to give you another chance to get him on the floor again. He hit you in the chest, propelling you back. He went in for the kill, but you countered, kicking him back and you struck him in the chest back. Taking advantage of the close proximity you tried to keep Chan in a chokehold, but he didn’t let you secure a hold on him.

 He aimed for your stomach next and then your throat, and you wheezed, but didn’t clutch your stomach as you stumbled back.

 You fell to the floor and slid between his legs, pulling one of them down and he stumbled, falling to his knees, but quickly spinning on them, and he lunged towards you again.

 Your hands flew to try and block his next punch, but it was too late. You ended up clutching his forearm as he hit you by your temple. You paced backward, straightening up, attempting to grow the space in between the two of you. He moved to close the space, and you feigned a kick, and as he moved closer to make it ineffective you turned and you pulled down his arm again, but instead of tripping him, you spun yourself up trapping his head in between your thighs. Involuntarily, he rolled, falling and following the motion of your force. You held his arm down, keeping him down between your legs. Your bad shoulder hit the floor and clenched your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut. Chan flexed and struggled to escape.

 “..9,10! ___, let go! Let go, ____, he can’t breathe!”

 Chan tapped your calves twice, and you nodded finally, unwrapping your legs from around his neck. You crawled away, limbs trembling from exhaustion. You spat blood, heaving as you clutched your throat. Your hair stuck to your face, you were a complete mess. Chan, by the looks of it, was too well off either, slumped up against the wall as Jisung cleaned up Chan’s bloody face. His eyes were closed, and his sleeveless shirt damp with sweat.

 “You’re bleeding,” Changbin said, pulling a tissue from his jacket pocket, “Wish I remembered to bring a first aid kit.”

 You threw your head up, squeezing your eyes shut as you sat in a more comfortable position. “I’m fine,” you muttered, “Don’t worry about me, okay, Binnie?” You looked back at him, and tried to give him a reassuring smile, throwing two thumbs up. “I’m peachy.”

 You turned your attention back to the two boys on the other side of the room. You stood, legs nearly giving out under you. “Chan?”

 At the sound of his name, his eyes fluttered open and Jisung backed away. Chan gave you a small dimpled smile. “I have to be honest, I didn’t expect you to win.” He straightened himself up, leaning himself up properly against the wall. He looked to the side, staring at the both of you in the mirror and chuckled to himself. He brushed the hair out of his face, “We look like hell, huh?” Chan sighed again, smoothing his shirt of creases, “Sir Hwang’s going to kill me.”

 You looked at him through the mirror, observing your kneeling position, looking into his eyes. There was a sudden weight of guilt that tagged along with his words, hiding in the letters and in between the spaces. “But tradition is tradition, right?” He looked down, and tossed his head back again. “Right, so-,”

 “You’re fine.”

 “What?”

 You stood up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears. “I said you’re fine. If you don’t tell me, he can’t hurt you. We’re a team, right?”

 He smiled at you. “Of course, we’re a team.”

 Changbin guided you back to your family’s place in the estate, not that you necessarily needed him. Still, it was nice to have someone alongside you. And then, after you could no longer see him, you collapsed in your front door. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, you couldn’t pretend anymore.

 You crawled, crying out for your mom like a small child, like so many nights before. But as you walked into the room, lifting your head up.

 You realized you didn’t have a choice.

 There wasn’t much you could do when you found the tipped over chair in the living room except cut the rope with scissors, you tried catching the limp body before it fell, but fell with it as the chair tipped over, the back of it hitting your legs.

 You didn’t know what to do, so you dragged her to bed and tucked her in.

 It was a desperate moment as you kissed her forehead, pulling the sheets up to her neck. You wanted to weep more than anything, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You sat at her study, staring at her for what seemed like hours, you were running again. You didn’t care who would’ve seen you, and most certainly weren’t going to stop. You let yourself in, Hyunjin was never one for knocking himself.

 He was down on the kitchen floor, the gas still clicking. You turned off the stove, cupping Hyunjin’s face. It felt like you were adolescents again. He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned into your touch, his shaking hand moving to hold yours. “C’mon,” you said softly, “Let’s go to bed, Hyunjin.” He fell into your embrace, going nearly fully limp. It took you longer than you hoped to get him to settle him into bed, he kept reaching out and insisting that you join him.

 “Come to bed, ___. Please.”

 “I have to clean you up.”

 Hyunjin wouldn’t be able to come in for several days considering the state he was in. You wish it was an exaggeration to say you had never seen Hyunjin in this bad of a state. His lip was busted, and his face entirely cut and red. He was all bruised up, wincing at the slightest of touches.

 “You gotta kiss me,” he pointed at his mouth, ”You have to kiss it to make it better.”

 “Jinnie, stop talking, you’re gonna make it worse.”

 “Will you kiss me if I stop?”

 “You’re such a dork,” you pressed your lips lightly against his, “But my dork, I guess.”

 “That wasn’t even a real kiss, it was a peck!”

 “I’m not gonna make out with you when you have a busted lip, Hyunjin.”

 “Coward. You only like me for my looks.”

 “You’re right. You’ve got me, I guess I should leave, huh?”

  He pointed his index finger, wagging it around limply in your face. “I’ve been gone one day and you get so bold, what happened to you?” You shook your head, throwing away the bloody wipes and putting away the first aid kit. “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” He reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Let’s just rest, you look like hell.”

 “Always such a gentleman, what a prince.”

 “Just for you. Now come to bed.”

 You sighed, crawling to his side. Without another word, he pulled you into his chest. Neither of you spoke for quite a while, and even though your eyes were on the clock, your body was starting to give in. Every once in a while, he would kiss the top of your head. The tensions in your muscles began to relax. Maybe you had lost your family, but at the very least you had your team. And most of all, you had Hyunjin. He had always been there for you, no matter how big or small the problem was. Things had definitely changed, even your relationship with him. You thought about the movies you would watch every once in a while. How the couple would hold hands in public places and go to coffee shops. They would fight about normal things. You wanted that, and it was silly, sure. But for some reason, that didn’t make you want it any less. You wanted matching outfits and to celebrate 100 days. You brought Hyunjin’s hand up to his chest, intertwining his fingers with yours.

 You wanted to be normal.

 You were thinking about not meeting up at the address, and maybe even skipping out on work when there was a rustling in the sheets. You felt cold, missing out on Hyunjin’s warmth. He sat away from you, head bowed and forearms resting on his thighs. You sat up, shifting your body weight and leaning to touch him when he shied away from your fingers.

 “Hyunjin-?”

 “You need to go.”

 “Why, what’s going on? Did I hurt you?”

 “Get out of my room, and stop coming to me.”

 “Hyunjin, I don’t understand-.”

 “You can’t even blame me, this isn’t my fault. It’s yours,” he paused, “Do you know how much trouble you cause. You’re not noble, ___. There is no greater good to fight for. You’re selfish.  All the shit that’s happened, it’s all you. I don’t want to be part of it anymore. It was just luck we met, I don’t even think I really like you. Even just as a person.”

 “Oh,” you slid over the opposite side, “sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll be going.”

 For a spring night, it was cold. There were no busses at this hour, and it’s not like you wanted to cry in front of a bunch of strangers anyway. You couldn’t pull yourself together. It wasn’t the fact that Hyunjin broke up with you, you weren’t stupid, his father obviously played a part in that. But he didn’t have to end it the way he did, nor did he have to say the things he said. What was the end goal here, what was the purpose of doing this?

 You got lost several times trying to find the address given to you. The people you came across were hesitant to answer the questions of a puffy-eyed and dried blood wearing stranger. It made you slightly angry, but you understood. You were just lucky that no one called the police. What explanation could you possibly give? Besides, you weren’t sure you’d want to help yourself either.

 You found yourself at the diner from a couple of days ago. The lady at the counter recognized you, and immediately bowed her head at you. To your surprise, she didn’t tell you to go away. Instead, she thanked you for helping get rid of the men and for your work in the police service. You weren’t sure why she thought that, but you didn’t question it either. It was better for her to think that instead of knowing the truth. Besides, you didn’t doubt that Sir Hwang had connections within the police force. You scanned the room finding no one you recognized, and no one that seemed like they were trying to meet you. So you just sat in a booth, unsure of what exactly you were waiting for.

 In the meantime, a waitress brought you some food. “On the house,” she said. You weren’t in any position to protest, and so you didn’t, silently thanking her for the food. You let your legs rest on the plush booth directly in front of you, silently musing at the nightlife when you felt someone slide in your booth.

 “C-?”

 He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling you to keep quiet and shook his head. He pulled out a pad of paper and started writing.

 I know you stole my files.

 Why would you say that?

 Your bag. He pointed. While you were fighting I saw the paper.

 Suppose I do have it. What are you going to do?

 I want to help. I want out.

 Who are you trying to fool?

 The question is, who are you trying to fool?

   Both of you left the diner, thanking the staff for their generosity. “Can we take a walk?” He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t you say you were going to visit Hyunjin?” You scoffed, crossing your arms and rubbing them. “I did.”

 “And something bad happened.”

 “Bad? To him, yeah. I guess you could say that. It’s not like I didn’t think something like this would ever happen.”

 “You broke up.”

 “Bingo.”

 There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and you sighed. You looked around, more out of habit than paranoia. “No one’s following us, I promise I checked.”

 “Then why didn’t you just come with me?”

 “Sneaking out is harder when you’re with anyone but yourself.”

 “Then why agree to the walk?”

 “You look like you could use a friend.”

 You knew he was particularly trained to observe people’s behavior, but it was scary and comforting at the same time to know someone was keeping an eye on your every movement. And yet, you didn’t deny him the role he wanted to play. You needed a friend, and he was willing to play one. Be one.

 You don’t know how long the fear of him turning against you will last, or if it will ever go away. And maybe it was your flaw, to be this human and succumb to this loneliness, but maybe that’s what separates you from this regime.

 Unexpectedly, you felt arms wrap around you tightly. You stumbled for a moment, and then fell into his touch. He held you for what seemed like a long time. He waited until you dropped your arms until he released you. There wasn’t another word said between the two of you, and you avoided looking back at Changbin.

 Admittedly, it was against your best judgment to return to the garden, but you wanted desperately to see the koi. The image of the apricot and pearl fish swimming in dark water kept fishing through your mind. You weren’t allowed to be up here, that much you knew, but it never quite registered in your brain. The gardens had always been your safe space, somewhere you knew that you and Hyunjin could always run to. Maybe Hyunjin was no longer here for you, but the koi still were.

 The smell of the elaborate garden was almost haunting, you could smell it long before you were up on the roof. It was always curious how you were never allowed to leave your side of the estate, but no matter how rich the Hwang family was- or was perceived to be, you’d never seen any signs of caution or security around these parts.

 Maybe it was the paranoia, maybe it was common sense- but either way, there was this undeniable, irrevocable feeling that you should run for it.

 You weren’t the most rational person, though.

 So you pressed on, finding yourself up on the roof. It was a bad night, a new moon and the stars nowhere to be seen. The clouds were dark, covering the sky in a blanket as it would just before a storm. You felt the air shift, tense.

 You could always smell the rain before a storm, and though you really couldn’t afford to get a cold- not in this state, you roamed the garden. You stilled, letting the pads of your finger caress the delicate petals of the roses. You could feel choked sobs bubbling in your throat, you wanted nothing more than to be able to cry.

 Everything changed that night.

 It took a deep breath and counting several times to ten to get you to move on from the rose bush. The path twisted and turned, it seemed to stretch out. Your eyes were drooping, burning. Every part of you hurt so bad, you wanted nothing more than to collapse right then and there. Finally, finally, you had reached your destination. Only to find a silhouette poised on the bench.  You knew better, you knew better so why did your breath hitch? Why could you feel the hair on the back of your neck rise? You knew that he knew you were there, so why did you freeze? Did you really think you could have run, that he wouldn’t have noticed you by some merciful god?

 No, god was never that kind.

 He raised his hand and motioned for you to come over. Biting the inside of your cheek, you complied, sitting next to him. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his gaze on you, his arm stretched across the back of the bench.

 “What god do you serve, ___?”

 “None.”

   He clicked his tongue, lifting up your chin with his fingers. “Pity, such a dirty mouth. What use did Hyunjin have for you?” He gripped the sides of your jaw, “Wrong answer, dear.”

  “Enlighten me then, almighty.”

 He laughed, “Don’t get cheeky with me now, girl. The answer,” he paused, “Is me.”

 “You gave that up as soon as Hyunjin became of age, he’s the leader now. You’re rotting, just biding your time.”

 He kept a neutral face, even as he pulled your hair, “I should get rid of you, have you join your parents. Things would be much smoother, that’s for sure.”

 “High and mighty but can’t smite me down? What a lousy god you are. Why don’t you just do it?”

 Despite his experience, you watched as jaw clenched and he pulled tighter. Your legs bowed as he made you look at him. His face was red, tight with an emotion you had never seen painted on his face.  “Because I promised your dad I wouldn’t, but fuck, dead men tell no tales now do they?”

 He sighed, letting go of you to smooth his suit down and straighten his tie. He cleared his throat, looking to the koi instead of you. “Starting today you’ll be working on both my operations and Hyunjin’s, do you understand?”

 He put his hands in his pockets, turning to look at you one last time. “You’re going to work until you realize your life is not in your hands.”

 You sat at the edge of the koi pond for some time. Fingers dipping into the cold green tinted water, the pond rippled under your touch. Instead of swimming away from the motion, fearing your hand, fearing your touch, they circled around the edge. Even in the moonless night, where even the stars were in a seemingly deep slumber, the koi seemed to glow. Through the murky water, you could see the floating spectacles of coral and orange bled fish. They were beautiful, and even though the koi pond was considerably much bigger than a pond, you felt bad for them. Such beautiful animals swimming around the same cage for years, kept as decoration instead of having a life of their own.

 You couldn’t sleep. You’d much rather sit on your bed, eyes bloodshot than be plagued with nightmares. Every part of you ached or throbbed. You would take care of your wounds, you really would, but you couldn’t will yourself to move. It seemed like an eternity before the sun peeked through the blinds.

 So, until that happened, you reviewed the file you had stolen, er, borrowed. It was against your better judgment, like so many decisions you had made recently, but you pulled it all out in the open. You figured, if they bust your door open and dragged you back to that white room from last time, you’d have an excuse. How am I supposed to fulfill my duties if I’m not aware of what is going on within my team? Was it the best? No. But would it make sense? Absolutely. Even if they decided to dig deeper, which would be protocol, you’d just say you had taken it from Changbin during a meeting. There were no cameras in the conference room- how could there be? And with frequent checks for bugs planted by the feds, the entire room was a complete blind spot. So left with no way to fact check, they’d be resigned to believe you.

 You stared at the rather thin file for a while before opening it. It all seemed so normal, deceptively so. Important information all stored in a khaki paper file. What loomed more over you though, was the reality of your situation. You sighed, goosebumps covering your body and chills swimming down your back.

 Shipment scheduled to move from Eclipse Bay to Blood Bay. Security should be kept the same, and ordinary item cargo should be moved at the previously agreed on time.

 Being moved are several thousand kilos of rewind (see: previous deals).

 At 0300, Hyunjin and his team should be flown to Hong Kong for the festival. Along with Hyunjin’s established bodyguards (see: Han Jisung and Bang Chan), multiple armed men should be ordered to see the liftoff.

 Hyunjin is on his own, no interference by anyone. Observation only. Expected to win 100 billion won over the week, and multiple alliances with other families.

[2]

 Allied cops with the Hwang Family:

 Kim Wonpil

 Park Jaehyung

 Kang “Young K” Younghyun

 Park Sungjin

 Yoon Dowoon

 Hwang Yeji

 Shin Ryujin

 Lee Chaeryeong

 Shin Yuna

 Choi “Lia” Jisu

   Look into got7, this goes without being said, and connections with Kim Woojin.

[3]

 Interrogation scheduled for 0100. Lieutenant Wonpil.

 Suspected 02 of being a double, here’s the link for his file.

[4]

 New families have paid their way into the festival. Goes by the names of TXT and Monsta X, here’s the link to their file.

[5]

 Stakes are now higher. Families betting their entire estates and fortunes, along with betting valuable information, set to a series of predecided games. Winner takes all.

[6]

 Bugs planted by the feds have been found in these locations. Watch the sensitivity of your issues. They have not been taken out. Doubles have been found applying to the company. Order to observe all workers, you’ve been assigned to the twelveth and thirteenth floor. Rewards to be discussed.

 Granted, there weren’t many things written in the email transcripts. But the importance lied in the things that were indeed, not written. You scribbled noted all over the copy, the original text almost omitted from view. It didn’t matter though, all the information imprinted onto your memory. You knew that there were a lot of blanks that needed to be filled in yet, and that meant asking Changbin to fill in the gaps. There was an air of anxiety around that, but even without the information that could be given, this was a start.

 And what a hell of a start it was.

 You decided, in those couple of hours before dawn pulled and scratched itself up into the sky, making it bleed blue, that your first two steps would be to find out all you could about the corrupt cops and specifically, especially, Kim Wonpil.

 You stretched out, your back cracking in all sorts of different places. You groaned, heaving your dense and getting denser body from your bed. It was hours before you were scheduled to show up at the Main Entrance for work, but you needed something to occupy your mind. Sitting and staring at the ceiling until your alarm snapped you out of your trance didn’t really fulfill that purpose.

 Your wound was getting worse, obviously so. Your eyebrows furrowed in the mirror, a look of pain and displeasure slapped across your face. You pulled out your first aid kit, which was really so much more, and got started.

 It was ghastly. Tears brimming in your eyes as you cleaned the wound with alcohol. You were clenching your teeth, letting out strangled groans and gasps. And the worst part wasn’t even over yet. Your shaking fingers meant that it was a while before the thread finally slipped through the eye of the needle. Your vision was growing black as you tried to stitch the gaping wound. Legs bowing and falling over the sink, you toppled down to the ground. The needle pierced the palm of your hand, a thin stream of blood coming down your arm. You sighed, the cool tile of the floor and the sharp pain in your back bringing you back to your senses.

 You were almost glad you were alone, so that no one could hear your almost inhuman cries. Almost. You felt alone, so, so alone. The inside of your cheek was beginning to bleed, and that’s when your teeth let go of the tender meat. If there was any time to cry, it would be now. But you couldn’t let yourself, no matter how much your body begged you. Your brain wouldn’t. You clutched the edge of the sink, now stained with messy prints of your palms. You heard your alarm go off, and you weren’t even halfway done with your stitches. You finished the third loop before cutting the thread.

 Man, you looked like shit.

 The shower was quick, more to fulfill the morning routine than to actually make an effort to get clean. You were angry at yourself, thinking you should’ve pushed yourself harder, but you just couldn’t. Your hair was wet, barely free of all the knots and still dripping onto your blouse. Your state was deteriorating, and you didn’t know how to redeem yourself.

 At the very least, you were the first one to arrive at the Main Entrance. If one didn’t think there was a need to be competitive, even about the smallest things, they’d be wrong. Your fingers threaded through your hair, a shallow attempt to make sure that there were no remaining knots.

 To your surprise, Hyunjin was the second to arrive. He looked great, perfect even, not at all in the state you found him in last night. He kept his hands in his pockets, only moving from his position to check the time in his expensive watch. He didn’t shy away from your gaze, either.

 “Problem, ___? Please refrain from gawking at your superior like that.”

 A wave of annoyance splashed across your face, one that couldn’t help. You knew he noticed when he smiled at you. “I said, is there a problem, ____? I asked you a question.”

 “No, Hyunjin. No problem. Sorry.”

 “Sir.”

 “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

 It felt so foreign to you, like you were haphazardly dropped into an alternate dimension. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve snapped entirely. But before Hyunjin, you seemed to sink into the ground. The back of your high heels pinching the skin around your ankle, your feet pressing into the uncomfortable sole of the shoes. The rest of your team arrived shortly after, but instead of being lead to the van, Hyunjin stayed where he was.

 Everyone stood around him, anticipating what was to come next. Hyunjin smoothed his hair, turning sideways and smiled.

 “It is my pleasure to announce that all of you, save one, have completed your individual missions to an astonishing degree, more than what was asked of you.”

   Your feet grew heavier, and you held your arms behind your back. Interlacing your fingers, you tried to self soothe. Usually, whenever you would tell Hyunjin about something stressful, he would always hold your hand. You kept your gaze level, refusing to look around even in your confusion. Your stare fell upon Hyunjin again, and he reached in the inside of his suit jacket.

 “Consider this a thanks from the Hwangs to you. To District Nine!”

 “To District Nine!”

 He gave all of the team members, excluding you, keys. Car keys. Luxury car keys. And you thought, you really thought that they’d be above this type of encouragement. They all chattered happily, jangling the keys and pointing at the logo embroidered on the black keys. You stood in the circle, albeit somewhat on the outskirts, and found your eyes falling upon Hyunjin again.

 He just smiled at you.

 And you decided, in that moment, that this was so much worse than his father’s signature neutral face.

 Hyunjin cleared his throat, and silence fell upon the boys. “I hope you find the car suits your tastes well. We have another meeting with Stray Kids today. Please prepare accordingly. In your cars, you’ll find another gift. Don’t worry about parking, you have your own spots.”

 He waved his hand, a gesture fit to dismiss the boys but you spoke up, earning a nervous glance from the boys.

 “And what about me?”

 “What about you?”

 “How am I expected to get to work?”

 “You’re a smart girl, ___. Aren’t you? If that’s too much to be expected of you, maybe one of your fellow team members would have enough pity to offer you a ride.”

 You bit the inside of your cheek again, feeling bits of metallic liquid seep into your mouth. “Of course, sir.”

   You just short of hissed the last word, and ignored Changbin’s calls after you as you walked out. You weren’t sure how it would be seen to prefer to arrive late rather than accept help, if it was petty or strong. But either way, you were still on a crowded bus to Central.

 You thought about the koi stop after stop, as people flooded the bus. It comforted you, somehow, thinking back to the bright orange fish in the murky water- how they circled around the rippling water. You felt someone bump into you, interrupting your mental image of the elegant fish but ignored it. You didn’t want to deal with this today, you didn’t want to make a scene. You were just so tired. So, so tired.

 You got off the bus the next stop, even if it was nearly a mile away from the building. The streets were busy, and as self-conscious as you were about walking bare feet for almost a mile, the blisters on your achilles’ heel couldn’t take it.

 You stared at the sidewalk even as you heard people whisper and stare at your feet. Your feet were dirty as you reached the doors of Hwang Headquarters. You walked quickly into the nearest elevator, almost forgetting that there was no ladies’ bathroom on this floor. It hadn’t helped that there was a light morning shower as you were walking here, and your wet clothes and the distinct smell of rain on you didn’t go unnoticed. As you reached your floor, the elevator had thankfully grown empty.

 With your wet hair stuck glued to your face, blouse sticking to your chest, and blackened feet, you stepped onto the floor. You went immediately to the bathroom, glad for once that you were the only female employee on this floor. You cleaned your feet, sitting less than gracefully on the sink counter.

 Man, you really did look like shit.

 You washed your hands quickly, the soap stinging the flesh your needle had pierced.

 “You’re late. Everyone’s already in the conference room.”

   You decided not to let Hyunjin get the best of you. Or maybe you were too tired, too exhausted to snap back. Still, you were never better to let a smark remark slip past.

 “Aw, look at the new secretary. Does that mean I’m the C.E.O now? About time, if you ask me.”

 You walked past him, and moved your hair out of your face. What you were doing was bigger than him, bigger than everybody in the room. You scolded yourself, you couldn’t let him get to you like that.

 You were across Jeongin again, he tilted his head slightly, asking you a question without words. You waved it away with your hand and shrugged. You could talk about it later.

 “Is there a reason you need to move up the meeting? We had one scheduled just hours later today.”

 “No, I just felt like being an asshole and calling you in earlier for the hell of it. It’s not like either of us have better things to do.”

 “Wouldn’t put it past you, Hwang. Could this have anything to do, by chance, with our alliance with GOT7?”

 Bang Chan sat up straight in his chair, hands folding over his lap. Hyunjin ignored the movement, spinning his pen around his fingers. This lasted for a few moments. “Always so efficient with time, Woojin.” He straightened, pulling his feet off the table, and put the pen in his pocket, all in one swift movement. You raised an eyebrow at the sudden use of first names. “You know, as part of our protection over you, we requested to know about all of your alliances.”

 “Protection? Is that what you call it, Hwang? Does your team not know about the things we’ve discussed? Pity. You’re more disorganized than your father.”

 “Oh, what we discussed? There are no secrets between my team and I, Woojin. Which is more than you can say.”

 Hyunjin walked to the other side of the long table, more leisurely than you thought a person could walk. His steps were slow and deliberate, and you watched intently. He placed a tape recorder in front of Woojin, pointer finger hovering over the play button. He whispered something lowly in Woojin’s ear and then turned to face everyone, a sweet smile plastered on his lips.

 “You wouldn’t want them to hear about that, would you?”

 “No, I wouldn’t. But you know what the feds would love to know? That their trusted Kim Wonpil is providing information about the investigation being held on you. Could you imagine the scandal? The media?”

 Hyunjin laughed, his hands slamming on Woojin’s shoulder. “Is this a game you want to play? Are you confident in the moves you are making?”

 “Does a fish swim, Hwang? But that’s not what we’re here to do. Your ego is suffocating everyone and everything, you’re no different than your father. Let’s get to the point shall we?”

 “Go ahead, Woojin. Fill in the blanks.”

 “GOT7 is up and coming, you know that, I know that. The best way to dismantle their current system is by alliance and infiltration, there are no losses here. They’re in no place to refuse.”

 “Then why not disclose that information?”

 “It wasn’t finalized at the time.”

 “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

 “I do. Especially if you want an alliance, and more so with the upcoming festival. You’re in no place to refuse.”

 Woojin stood up and smoothed his suit sleeves, ridding the luxury clothing of any wrinkles. He was almost imitating Hyunjin’s gestures, who was watching him amused back from his end of the table.

 “Seungmin, open the presentation. Minho, please distribute the files.”

 The rest of the meeting went until lunchtime, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be interested in financial talk. You wanted to contribute something, anything, but you were beginning to doze off. Your attention span was decreasing exponentially, and even as determined as you were to stay awake, your body was beginning to shut down.

 It was paused, briefly, giving everyone two hours for lunch. And you couldn’t be more thankful.

 “Let’s get coffee, Jeongin. Please.”

 For some reason, you had expected him to object. You didn’t even want to discuss your plans, you didn’t want to plan a huge dismantling of a system that went as far back as history could tell. You just wanted a friend. You just wanted to talk.

 “You seriously look like shit, ___.”

 “Hey!”

 “I’m sorry, and I mean that in the kindest way. You need some sleep. Maybe a couple of centuries.”

 “Justice never sleeps, Jeongin.”

 “Okay, Batman. I’ll go get us coffee and meet you in the park. Don’t run off into the night.”

 “I feel like you just want me to get out of your car.”

 “I do. Get out of my fucking car.”

   There was something about spring afternoons that you had never really noticed before. Was it risky to be here? Of course, it was. What part of your life wasn’t full of risk? But you didn’t want to think about that, you wanted to think about spring. The fresh breeze softened even as rose into the clear sky’s view. It felt good, calm. The older wood of the park bench pressed into the base of your neck as your head fell back against the top. It wasn’t long before you found tears escaping your eyes.

 “Jeongin.”

 “___.”

 “It’s good to see you.”

 He smiled and snorted, sitting next to you and handing you a warm coffee cup. He held his own cup in between his thighs, both hands resting on the lid as he looked up into the night sky. “How have you been doing?”

 “Shitty.”

 “What happened?”

 You found yourself jumbling your own words. Cutting off sentences short and running to a different topic as if you would run out of time or he would cut you off. “...things just haven’t been the same with Hyunjin since he got, er, promoted?”

 “Wow,” he said finally, “That fucking sucks.”

 You shrugged, suddenly embarrassed as you felt your face go hot. You hadn’t meant to tell him such personal things. You looked down, taking a sip of the latte. But to your surprise, Jeongin did the same.

 “Woojin doesn’t trust me,” he commented, “I mean, I get that he’s trying to protect me but I hate feeling coddled you know? I think he feels bad about the night at the warehouse, but it’s not like I’m mad about it.” He shrugged, and his voice trailed off before picking up in volume. “I’ve seen them kill people. It hasn’t even been that long and I’ve watched them do it. I’ve even helped-”

 “Jeongin!” Your hand clamped over his mouth as you looked around frantically. “Not here, never here.”

 His eyes widened, and he took a sip of his coffee cup.

 You sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the breeze and petrichor. “You should eat,” Jeongin stretched out his legs, “We can stay here for a while, but we’re going to a restaurant soon.”

 “I thought you wanted me out of your car?”

 “Charity for the poor. I’m a generous man.”

 “Man? With that squeaky voice?”

 “My voice causes earthquakes, fool. Get in the car before I leave you here.”

 “You’re so mean to me,” you faked sobbing loudly, earning estranged looks from passerbys, “And I treat you with such kindness.”

 “Get up, dumbass. People are staring. I swear to god-”

 “Alright, alright. I’m going. I need the ringing in my ears to stop.”

 “God fills me with enough power to purge you.”

 “Oh, no. I’m so scared. Someone, please. Help me. Mickey Mouse is coming for me.”

 “Get in the car before I drag you!”

   Jeongin kept raising the volume of the music every time you tried to talk to him, a playful smile on his face. Less than ten minutes later, the car stopped in front of a lush restaurant. You felt almost out of place being here. Even though you were always surrounded and exposed to signs of wealth, the exaggeration of it all never seemed to stop amazing you.

 “Isn’t this a place a little...much?”

 Jeongin shrugged, “I doubt this is going to cause a financial concern for Woojin. Besides, this is the only buffet I know that has high-quality food.”

 “We could’ve just gone to a diner.”

 “Live a little. You deserve it.”

 Those words swam in your mind for a bit, repeating themselves like a broken record. You and Jeongin talked and talked. About everything and nothing in particular. And for a while, both of you forgot about your life outside the restaurant. You forgot about responsibilities, even your paranoia, your hypervigilance was kept in the back of your mind. For now, you could pretend that everything was okay. Because that’s how it felt.

 Your stomach was full, and you had long stopped counting plates by now. Jeongin was no better, still going on even after you slumped over in your chair.

 “You’re a coward.”

 “Oh fuck off, Jeongin. My stomach feels like it’s gonna pop.”

 “I said what I said.”

 You groaned, clutching your stomach. “I don’t even know why we made this a competition. Jeongin. Jeongin. I think I’m going to die.”

 “Shut up. I’m almost done, we’ll go soon.”

 You hid your face in between your hands, and started to fake cry again, just as loud as last time. “Quit it, dumbass.”

 Your crying got louder, your shoulders shaking as he kicked you under the table. “Oh fuck-!”

 “If it were not for the laws of this land, I would’ve slaughtered you. Let’s go. I paid while you made a scene.”

 “I love you.”

 “I despise you with every inch of my being.”

   The rest of the day went on without anything memorable happening. You were feeling better, much more energetic and happy. You knew you’d have to meet Jeongin later that day to discuss what was actually going on, but for now, you didn’t want to think about that. For at least a couple hours of the remaining day, you could pretend all you did was work a nine-to-five job. You could pretend that all you did was have lunch with a co-worker.

 For now, you could just pretend.

   “Hey, I’m Felix.”

 You looked up from your computer, tilting your head and looking up at him quizzically. “Hey, Felix. Can I help you with something?”

 “Uh, well not really. I just never talked to you, and I figured I should introduce myself. Personally.”

 “Okay, well, I’m ___. What do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?”

 “Boredom. Listen, can I ask you something?”

 “Ah, there it is.”

 “No, no! It’s not like that! Look,” he sighed, “I’m friends with everyone here but you. I just wanted to know if you wanted to get coffee sometime.”

 “That’s it?”

 “That’s it.”

 You watched the freckled boy carefully. “Oops, looks like I overstayed my welcome,” he looked quickly to Hyunjin’s office, wearing a playful smile, “I’ll take you up on that coffee soon! I’ve been told I can be very insistent.”

 “I can imagine. We can go for lunch tomorrow?”

   “Can’t wait.”

 You’re unsure of any of the between the lines implications, if there were any. But really, wasn’t there always? It was naive to think there were any purely good-hearted people in this setting.

 But for now, you could pretend.

 Woojin and his team left a bit later, Jeongin gave you a polite head nod as he walked past your desk and Felix gave you a warm smile, waving brightly. You waved back, unsure of what else to do in that situation. It’s not like you’d had much practice, anyway.

 Hyunjin left after all the common employees, but before you. You watched him bluntly, but he paid you no mind. You wondered if he had been listening into you and Felix’s short interaction. It was the kind of wondering that you were sure you’d never get much closure for, but it kept your mind busy as you made schedules and faxed papers. You missed him, you concluded. It was weird, not being able to talk to him and having his warmth. That was the thing about all types of relationships, wasn’t it? You’ll never really find another person like that. Maybe that was the point, in order not to go through the same pain. But you still loved him, and you knew that only time and patience could heal this kind of hurt. But you did, that was the truth. For today at least. Today, it was today’s truth. Maybe tomorrow’s will be different. There was really no way to know except to get there.

 You thought about a million little small things, how soft his hair was or the little beauty mark below his eye. You thought about the way he smiled and how he always clapped when he laughed. And then you thought about your dad, and then your mom. And your heart ached in a way it had never. This was a different kind of hurt. You wiped your teary eyes, and throughout the stained paper. What good did this pain do? All it had done was ruin a spreadsheet, and now you had to print another one.

 You wanted to stay in late, you really didn’t want to go back to the estate. You had no idea what Sir Hwang had in store for you, but you knew that it would be no good. There was nothing you could do to prepare, you didn’t know what to expect. That much power, yes, he did have over you.

 And you were right, you had no idea.

 Going to the main building for purposes other than given orders was prohibited. Mostly because no one liked unwarranted visitors, but you supposed that you had an excuse. A half hour passed, and then an hour came and went, and you gave up. Your feet hurt, and you needed a good shower. If Sir needed you, then surely, he could come get you himself.

 Night came and the sky deepened, and you started to relax. Maybe it was unlikely that he would have forgotten, but he was a busy man after all. Plus, doing and managing illicit activities was tiring, he could just need rest. Maybe you were off for the night, just for today.

 After a long shower and eating a subpar dinner, you passed out on the couch. You hadn’t meant to, really, you just wanted to rest your eyes. You were really nothing but human in the error of your ways.

 But your rest was plagued with nightmares, and Sir was the rat that spread disease. You were on the living room couch, sitting upright and before you were your parents. And Sir. He sat in the middle, on a simple black chair. Your father began to bleed from his head and torso, but he did not move, his expression blanker than a sheet of paper. Your mother sat too, in the same way, a noose around her neck and the tail of the rope sitting curled on her lap. You too, began to bleed. But from where, you could not tell. Your hands held a mess of blood, and with your vision hazy, you looked up at Sir. And he smiled.

 You woke up then. Not screaming, not thrashing. You just sat up. Your mouth was unbelievably parched, a jackhammer heart pounding into your chest, you were sure your chest was going to crumble into pieces. You felt so, so hot. You pulled at the collar of your sweater that stuck to your body like you had run through the rain. You pushed yourself up, pressing hard on your numb leg as the static pins and needles seemed to prick your leg. It was late, and you knew you had to meet Jeongin soon. You had to go over all the new information you both had, but you hadn’t done it earlier.

 You were annoyed at yourself, changing out of your sweaty clothes into similar sweats. You bit the inside of your cheek, already sore from your previous assaults. Instead, you resigned to bite your lip, which probably wasn’t much better, but at least it gave time for your cheek to heal. It didn’t take you much time to get back to the abandoned cafe. Well, abandoned was no longer the right term, it seemed. Construction tape and a new name that hung upon the storefront. You were early, so it was no surprise that Jeongin hadn’t arrived yet.

 But your stomach grew more and more upset as more time passed. The file you had hidden away in the inside of your shirt would begin to crease, and it probably wouldn’t smell too great either. Realistically, you knew that a lot of things could’ve happened. Maybe he had just overslept, and wouldn’t be coming at all. Maybe he was caught sneaking out, or maybe he had just forgotten. All of those things could’ve happened before the worst of the worst- and you weren’t even sure what that would be. Still, something from the depth of your stomach crawled and clawed. You felt dread, anticipating what couldn’t be anticipated.

 “Sorry, I overslept. I’m so tired.”

 You sighed a breath of relief, laughing at yourself. You relaxed, tensions unraveling themselves in your back and in your chest. There Jeongin was, cheerily holding up to coffee cups. “I got coffee, it’s different this time though. It’s-.”

 He was interrupted by a loud bang, and the cups toppled to the ground. A mess of green foamy liquid stroked the air like a paintbrush, and then splattered onto the ground. Jeongin was on his knees, holding his chest.

 You ran towards him, holding his anguished face before you noticed the man behind him.

 You don’t know what took over you, whether it was a moment of self-realization, or anger that had consumed you like no other. His face was becoming unrecognizable, a bloody pulp and yet, you couldn’t stop. You kept going, your vision hazy and breath labored. Was it you? Were you really doing this? You wiped your face, only to make it more messy, more bloody. The blood on your hands, quite literally, wasn’t yours. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t you, that you were impulsive. What mattered is that you wanted him fucking dead. In that moment, he deserved it, and to you, that was your gospel truth. Written in scrolls and tattooed on your back. You didn’t need to play god to kill someone, you could be Cain for that.

 “You’re gonna fucking kill him, ___, stop! Stop!”

 “He’s not dead! ___, he has a pulse! Fucking stop!”

 You could feel them grabbing at you and you felt animalistic, kicking and screaming. Were you crying? You don’t recall, but your face was wet. You didn’t even know who he was anymore as they pulled you away. You thrashed like an animal caught in a net as all the members of your team worked to drag you away. You couldn’t see straight, abstract figures of color swirling around you. Struggling to calm down, your breath was erratic, palpitations so strong you felt as if you were going to throw up. You were positioned against a wall, poised like a doll. Sweaty, lips chapped, hair sticking to your face, and decorated in blood like you’d just won the hunger games.

 Shit. Shit!

 You woke up in a room you had never seen before. Stark white walls and a lone painting of the Hwang family in the center of the wall before you. You heard movement and swiveled your head to the right, finding Sir Hwang standing straight from his leaned position in the doorframe. His hand pushed the door lever, he was on his way out as he paused, turning to face you. With a satisfied smile, he looked down at you,

  “I knew you had it in you.”

[dictacontrion]

Hey for the ask thing F, I, and U ! Thank u I love your blog and your work !

Thanks, nonnie!! These have been a blast!! 

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Okay so I actually love writing dialogue, it is kind of my fave, and I don’t have one single favorite, but this one, from Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) came to mind: 

“I want you.”

“For—bed?” Harry asks, eyes flitting nervously upwards at the ceiling and, presumably, the bed above them.

“Yes,” Draco answers, “but not only.”

Harry takes another step towards him. “What else?”

“Dancing,” Draco says. “Champagne.”

“Yeah?” Harry prompts.

“Dinner,” Draco adds. “Letters.”

“Answered letters?”

“Answered letters. And…dates.”

“Public dates?”

“Yes. And…” Draco takes a turn at stepping forward, “breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Breakfast,” Draco repeats. “After…”

“Bed?”

“Yes.”

“For breakfast, you’d have to stay.”

“Yes.”

“And you want?”

“Breakfast.”

“Oh,” Harry breathes. “Breakfast.”

I like it because I think usually I’m drawn to snappy banter, and clever characters who are able to explain themselves, and when there’s lots of witty subtext, and this is sort of the opposite of that. It’s a very emotionally naked moment for them, and it felt like piling on the words wasn’t going to work. What matters here, for them, is how well they understand each other without words, that they know each other so well they don’t need further explanation to get what’s at stakes. Well, and that they’re able to create this space that works emotionally for both of them, such that Harry can be reassured while Draco doesn’t have to put himself so explicitly on the line that he recoils into defensiveness. But how to get them to communicate that when saying it would defeat the purpose? This felt like the really right solution - the economy of language, the repetition, the construction of the story so that the readers and the characters have to recall a lot of complicated history in order for this to have meaning, and (hopefully) that the simplicity of the actual words pushes the reader to be present alongside the characters in being attentive to the complexity of the meaning behind them. And I thiiiiink it does that successfully? Though readers would know better than I would! 

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

My writing guilty pleasure is 100% the banter mentioned above, which wouldn’t be a guilty pleasure at all, vs something very fun, except that I tend to do it when I’m stuck or stonewalling, so will occasionally feel a bit guilty when I notice that’s what I’m doing.

My reading guilty pleasure (though as a phrase, I prefer smug indulgence to guilty pleasure!) is probably 1D/BBC RPF AUs, which, there are just some really fun ones, and it’s in this fic space that I don’t write or rec or mod or really blog about very much, so it’s work-free pure indulgence. 

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

I take this question to ask what I like about three of my favorite fic writers’ writing but, if you’ll bear with me, anon, I am going to intentionally misinterpret this for a moment (and will do it over properly if you like!) and tell you about three of my favorite fic writers and why they are some of my favorite people (with the caveat that I could easily do this for a dozen more!) and #sorrynotsorry, hopefully these lovely individuals will be up for tolerating some tenderness.

1. I have had the extraordinary luck to be within driving distance of @firethesound​ for most of my fic-writing life, and while I’m sure many of you, like me, admire her writing enormously, I am here to tell you that it is the tip of the iceberg. I have lost track of the number of times I have been having a crap week, only to show up at fire’s house and find the kettle on and cookies waiting, or the number of times she’s listened while I talk through whatever’s bothering me, or the number of days that have been improved by her company. She can be very stealth about how funny she is, and how incisive her commentary is, and how thoughtful her views are, and how observant she is, and how creative and resourceful and resilient and patient, and how she cares for the people around her, and how curious and interested she is, and how good at figuring things out, and how determined, and how generally much of a stone cold badass she is when the situation calls for it, but it’s all very, very present and I am perpetually blown away, and so, so grateful to the universe that our paths crossed. It’s made my life more balanced and fuller and funner and funnier and inspired, and that’s very much par for the course when spending time with fire. 

2. @gracerene09​ is a brilliant writer who just knocks my socks off a little bit more every time I read her latest work, and also has been my adventure buddy across two continents, three countries, and two (soon to be three or possibly maybe four!) states, and holy fuck she is amazing. She is so thoughtful and so unbelievably on the ball and possessed of good common sense and feet firmly on the ground, and she is the rare human who manages to be all of that and imaginative and silly and hilarious and adventurous and game for flights of fancy. Like, we can have a spreadsheet and a plan A and a plan B and then get drunk and have a selfie competition and end up wandering some random places absolutely cackling our butts off. And having seen her in all of those contexts and done loads of fandom and RL stuff with her, I can absolutely say that she’s one of the few people in the world whose judgment I trust implicitly. Even when we disagree, I trust her process and her ability and willingness to talk it through and figure it out. I also have the hugest admiration for the way she approaches the world with an eye towards growth; if she notices something she wants to change, she changes it, and she does it in ways that are deeply reflective and considered and dauntless and principled, and it’s truly incredible and an honor to see how that’s played out, is playing out, over the years. 

3. When it comes to fandom, and to life, @writcraft has become one of my absolute favorite people to talk to. Writ’s approach to writing and thinking is so masterful and meticulous and smart, I am constantly in awe. I have endless appreciation for the way they’ve written queerness into fic, which takes it so seriously and pays homage to its history, and would happily listen to them talk about queerness and culture for hours, both as it has to do with fandom and as it matters in the world beyond. And alongside this phenomenal, blinding awareness and knowledge, they’re also so much fun. I often come away from my conversations with writ reminded that all things - fandom, politics, the daily business of life - are meant to have elements of joy and connection in them, that the object isn’t only to learn and work for change, but to remember what it is that’s worth working for, and to stop and enjoy it, and to change things, even when that involves taking risks, in order to build a more enjoyable, connected, intrinsically motivated life. Whether it’s a serious conversation about political commitments and practice, or a serious conversation about fandom, or getting drunk and sweaty and dancing till ready to drop, having writ around is guaranteed to make it richer and sweeter and better. 

Fic asks!

[kingsofeverything]

11/11/11

@chloehl10 @ham-palpert @reminiscingintherain​ @realitybetterthanfiction​ and @laynefaire​ tagged me in this. Thanks y’all! I’m sorry I’m such a slack ass and it’s been weeeeeeks since I drafted this half finished, soooooooooo....

 I’m going to combine and put everything under a cut.

The first 11 are from @chloehl10

1. What’s your favourite fic you’ve ever written, and why?

Don’t Want Shelter because it’s the first fic I put emotional effort into. That universe, that Harry and Louis, all of it are very vivid and alive in my head. I love them.

2. Pick three words that you think describe your works overall.

Long ass sentences 👀

3. How long does it take you to write a fic?

Depends. Writing doesn’t usually take me long but editing does.

4. What’s the hardest thing about writing?

Realizing that I’m probably never going to write some of the ideas I have

5. Do you listen to music or anything while you write? What’s normal for you when you write?

I don’t usually, but sometimes. Idk that I have a normal. I really prefer to be alone and quiet.

6. How do you come up with titles for your fics?

Songs usually. Sometimes they just come to me though.

7. What’s one piece of advice you’d give to a new writer?

Get a beta. But not just a beta. Get someone who can talk fic/plot/story with you as well.

8.  How important do you think tags are when you are publishing a fic?

Very in some ways, no at all in others. I tag mainly for readers so they know enough about the fic to decide whether or not to read. I don’t tag specific sex stuff usually though every now and then I’ll throw in ‘anal fingering’ just to mix it up. I don’t tag who tops/bottoms. I do tag with fic reccers in mind thanks to B’s @nottooldforthisship instructions!

9. Do you write for fests/exchanges? If so, do you enjoy them? If not, why not?!

I have and I do but not often. I like running them and I have done exchanges in the past but it’s not really my thing to write for them. Is that weird? I feel like it is but ehhh

10. Which work of yours are you most proud of and why?

An Unbalanced Force aka marold harold because.... idk

11. What’s next for you?

Currently working on a short pwp hiccup fic

These 11 are from @ham-palpert

1. Have you ever been burned by a WIP that never updated?  If so, describe that traumatic experience.

I have not! But more in a ehhhh I’m not too bothered way. I’ve definitely read WIPs that weren’t completed but idk I guess I love on quickly lol

2.  Speaking of WIPs, do you like writing (or reading) them?  Why or why not?

I don’t write them. As in even my fics that have been posted as WIPs (DWS and HFL) we’re completely finished aside from some editing before I started posting. I change too much when I write. That padlock in TSHU? Thought of it at the end and went back to add it to the beginning.

I will sometimes read a WIP but not often. Mainly because I don’t remember anything between updates

3.  Are you a dialogue person?  An inner-monologue person?  A heavily descriptive scene-setter?  

I think I’m gonna pass? I literally have no idea. I don’t think I heavily describe scenes but I guess that depends on the scene? This is when I send for help and ask Nic

4.  Is there a scene from a fic you’ve read that you wished you’d written/thought of first?

Not really

5.  Would you rather read a 150k angsty fic, or a 10k fluffy one-shot?

10k one shot

6.  Do you enjoy writing smut scenes?  Does it make you feel super awkward?  Do you need to have a cigarette afterwards?

Sometimes smut scenes are fun to write. Especially if there’s something different about it. Sometimes I have to be in the mood. Sometimes I feel like I need to shower after lolll

7.  Do you click through the recently updated list on AO3 or read exclusively fic recs? Or a bit of both?   

Neither. I don’t read nearly as much as I used to. I’m nowhere near caught up on Big Bang.

8.  How many words, on average, do you write a week?  Do you try to stick to writing goals?  

Oh wow. Idk! I could actually figure it out since I track my words per day. When I’m steadily writing, I’d say 10k a week is average? Probably more tbh

9.  Are you someone who comments on the fics you read (and liked)?

Yes

10.  Of all the fics you’ve written, which one came to you the easiest?

marold harold I think

11.  If you had to live in one of the AUs you created, which one would it be?

Marold harold and I’d be Kate McKinnon

these 11 are from @reminiscingintherain​ 

1. Has your writing changed now from the way it was when you started? If so, how? 

yeah definitely. more plot heavy and just better overall

2. Does anyone IRL know about your writing? If so, have they read it? 

yes, but no one’s read any of it. i almost sent tshu to my therapist lol

3. Is there anything you’ve written that you wish you hadn’t? 

no

4. Do you have a set location or setting that you have to write in? A favourite cafe? The only seat that’s comfortable?

no, i will write literally anywhere. on my phone or laptop. i like writing on my back porch when it’s not a million degrees outside 

5. What are you working on? If you can (i.e., it’s not on anon!), share five lines!

5 lines from the hiccup fic: 

When he opens his mouth to answer, Louis hiccups and flattens his hand against his chest, shaking his head. He points to his mouth, hiccups again, then again, snaps his mouth shut and pushes past Harry, who turns and follows him out of the club to the relative quiet of the street.

“You can stay, Harry.” Louis shoves his hands in the pockets of his faded jeans and turns to glance at Harry, who’s walking beside him. He hiccups and groans, kicking his foot out and stomping. “Fuck me, man. This sucks.”

6. Have you ever written something for a fic, but ended up removing a whole scene in its entirety and using it for something else?

i think so but tbh i can’t remember lol

7. Are you a linear writer? Or can you write scenes out of order and put them together at the end?

i’m a linear writer, but i will skip over parts of a scene like....... i’ll write a bunch of dialogue with nothing around it and fill in later

8. Betas/Britpickers… opinions?

always always always. i would literally not write if i couldn’t have a beta lol

9. How much do/can you write on average at any given time?

huh idk. i’m a fast writer, but i’d say like probably 1.5k a day is average for me?

10. How organised are you? Do you have lists and/or spreadsheets, or do you just wing it?

i’m the worst lol i tried to organize my google docs and that lasted like a week

11. What made you start writing? 

i was bored and i thought hmmmm wonder if i could write a fic. turns out i could!

alrighty these 11 are from layne :D

1. What is your favorite trope to write? To read?

EXES/ENEMIES TO LOVERS

2. What other fandoms do you write in/have you written in?

not a one

3. What’s one fic idea you want to read, but would never write?

i honestly don’t know because i write what i want to read

4. When do you do most of your writing - morning, afternoon, night? Which time of day do you find most productive?

i think i’m most productive in the morning, but i write when i find the time

5. Writing routine? What do you drink? Do you have a go to snack?

i don’t have a routine. i usually drink water or coffee, but occasionally vodka, wine, or beer. i don’t snack while i write but now i want to

6. Have you ever been writing something and had to get up and walk away from it? What was it and why did you have to step away?

i had to walk away from tshu because it was stressing me out that i couldn’t invent time travel irl so i wrote heading for limbo for a few weeks and went back to it lol

7. What is your most favorite scene you’ve ever written?

oooooooooooooooooooooh oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh this is such a good question and i hate it lol i absolutely HATE picking favorites of anything but i’ll say that the scene from tshu when louis shows zayn his tattoo and everything right before and after that

8.  Have you ever had an ending to a story, but couldn’t figure out how to start it? I don’t mean the typical -And they lived happily ever after - but a fully fleshed out ending with your usual writing pair, but you had no idea where to start? Did you ever write it?

nooooooope

9. What is the oddest thing you’ve ever drawn inspiration from?  

idk i think being stuck in a hurricane with no power turning into don’t want shelter was pretty odd

10. You’ve accepted a prompt to write a fic using a Whitesnake song for the title. Which song do you choose, and what is your fic’s summary?

here i go again - 70s trucker au (i’m not summarizing because i’m actually planning to write this one, though the title with be different. probably.)

11. Your most recent fic is being made into a movie. What would you change your main characters’ names to and who would you fancast to play them?

ok so i’m cheating here by picking tshu instead of my most recent fic because my most recent fic is canon pwp lol and i’m sorry but i’m so lame with actors and stuff idk anyone who’d play them. and idk about names either! SORRY LAYNE

last but not least!

these 11 are from @realitybetterthanfiction​

1. What made you realize you wanted to start writing fan fiction?

we were hanging at my parents’ house during a hurricane when they had power and we didn’t, and i was bored af and i think nic had just recently published her first fic and i was like....... huh i wonder if i can do that?

2. What fic changed you as a reader or a writer?

nic’s 5 times fic called fire and ice! i remember reading it and thinking WOOHOO PWP!!!! and then crying because she snuck all these FEELINGS in. so it made me think about writing in a different way, i guess. it can be fun and emo lol

3. What is your best writer’s block buster?

idk. haven’t really tried anything.

4. What’s the last non fan fiction book you’ve read?

uhhhhhhhhhhhhh a book about physics and space science (fic research lmaoooooooooooooooo)

5. If you had or have skills like our talented artists in the fandom, what’s one scene you would like to illustrate? (Can be your own work or another’s work)

THE JUGGLING SCENE FROM STRANDED IN A DREAM

6. What’s the best piece of writing advice you’ve ever gotten?

just keep writing! you can edit later! 

7. What’s one genre you’re hesitant to write but really want to explore?

idk i don’t think i have one? maybe aliens?

8. Would you ever cowrite with someone else? And if you have, how to you divide the work?

nic and i are trying BUT IT’S HARD AND WE DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE DOING 

9. Do friends outside the fandom know you write? Are they supportive? (I hope they are!!!)

no but my husband does and is

10. What is your favorite fic Niall? (give me all the Niall!)

niall and his churros!!!!! 

11. What is your favorite supernatural category (examples, vampires, ABO, werewolves, angels, aliens). And can you give a girl some recs?

vampires!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i don’t have any recs because my faves are old and everyone knows them: madalynn_bohemia’s vampire series

[greenishbucket]

Autumn Serenade

Ford, summer, and hockey. 1.8k, also on ao3.

For Day 1 of OMGCheckPlease! Women Week 2017

Here’s the thing: Ford loves playing hockey.

Her brothers had balked when she’d told them happily over Skype that she’d joined up for the local rec league, no real training but enough vague knowledge and passion to power through. She’s hardly expecting to be on the first line or anything, it’s just fun and exciting and a way to get to know people. Ford’s been involved in local theatre for as long as she can remember – and it’d been the first place she’d looked at when she moved into the area – but stage managing is her forte and it’s a lonely task, the gratitude and respect warming but the responsibilities endless.

Ford can let go in hockey. It’s no contact but there’s the same satisfaction in using careful moves to snatch the puck from the opposition as there is in watching the curtain fall on a perfect show. Only the satisfaction is several times a game rather than a few nights preceded by weeks of organisation and she has a whole team to burn with the satisfaction in time with her.

Her parents had been worried about injury but were easily comforted by the assurance she’d have a full face cage and enough ragtag gear to keep her safe (though she didn’t share how the league had probably had since forever the way it stank). Both her brothers played football well into their college days; her parents are no strangers to accepting their kids playing dangerous sports.

She’s under no misapprehensions about the level of acceptance in the league compared to her usual theatre crowd as her mother suggested, either. Ford knows how hockey is. Besides, theatre kids are so, so far from perfect and Ford’s been black and a lesbian her entire life; she’s not going to let some jackasses stop her from expanding her horizons, especially since she seems to have lucked out massively with her teammates. Lardo, as both her team captain and one of the founders of the league, is both one of the coolest, chillest and one of the most unflinchingly assertive people Ford has ever met.

Ford wouldn’t have let her parents stop her anyway. She’s an adult now, free from college and just about managing to live away from home by sharing her apartment with a squirrely PhD student and a midwife-in-training and carefully budgeting every penny. So what if she wants to portion some of the careful budgeting to the rec league fees, to going out for drinks with the girls after a game? It’s fun, it’s new, it’s giving her thighs to die for.

Here’s the other thing: so far she hasn’t actually played in a real game.

Ford signed up as part of the rec league after coming to watch their final two games before the long summer break. Rec league never really breaks –  or so Lardo and Farms both remind anyone who dare use the term ‘break’, five timetabling spreadsheet tabs open and four group chats pinging continuously on three laptops between them – but summer means people vacationing with family and wanting to be outside in the sun rather than holed up in a scruffy ice rink no matter how hockey-loving Ford knows the girls to be.

There are a couple of games for fun over the months and plenty of street hockey and people can practice as often as they like in twos or threes – plus Heaven knows Ford is busy enough with the local theatre summer production, she couldn’t resist – but their first real league game isn’t until the very end of September. Ford has it circled in red marker on the calendar in the kitchen and every morning she looks at it with a mix of burning hot excitement and sick trepidation.

Until now, Ford has always been a summer girl. Every year as school or college started the transition ached, the first few days spent forcing herself to look away from the windows and focus on work again instead of grabbing hold of the last stretches of real warmth, the sunlight golden and the leaves just beginning to turn brown. She always feels weird and mismatched pulling on her jeans and socks and fall sweaters again, the layers and weight a trap compared to her light summer dresses and skirts and shorts, the ease of simple flats or sandals. Ford loves summer. Everything feels possible and endless on a bright summer’s day stretching out into a warm summer’s night and it revitalises every part of her that gets worn down and exhausted in the decay of fall and the long, cold winter. Spring is a start but nothing gives to Ford like summer does.

This year Ford feels like summer has passed at half the speed it usually does, even now in mid-September the weather reflecting a September dragging its feet on leaving summer behind, and she’s impatient with it. The rush of playing what few games ran during the summer was a wonder but Ford can’t help but think what it could be like in a real game, in something that doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things but counts to her and her teammates in this rec league among rec leagues. She can’t help but see her experiences now as a pale imitation.

Ford is already half in love with hockey and now she wants to play it.

This year each browning leaf and pumpkin-themed Pintrest board and knitted scarf means moving closer to the rec league getting under way for the season. Fprd finds herself watching the transitions with anticipation rather than her usual sadness and the thought of her summer clothes being replaced by the weight of her gear, disgusting though the pads may be, doesn’t have the usual quasi-claustrophobic panic.

“Last day of summer today,” her brother says, eye on his own calendar as they try and figure out a time to meet up over FaceTime. “Always makes me think of you.”

Once when Ford was seven she’d cried inconsolably on the last day of summer even though the weather hadn’t been truly summery in weeks, confusing and worrying both her teacher and parents. It had just been the finality of it, the confirmation that all the opportunities of the summer really were passed. This morning she’d spotted the tiny note in the day’s square and felt a twinge of something, a sadness that it was over for another year and a weariness at the prospect of the aches and pains and boredom of winter, but nothing like when she was seven. Ford’s pretty sure she’d even been a lot more upset the year before, too, wearing summer clothes in protest even when it was cold enough that she was shivering all day.

“I know, I saw,” she says, “and like it sucks, my God fall is boring and winter sucks, but I’ve got my first hockey game tomorrow. Which is pretty cool.”

Her brother is silent for long enough that she looks over at the screen to make sure he hasn’t been cut off. He’s still there, face up close to the camera like he’s trying to get a better look at her.

“Who even are you?” he asks, phone so close all Ford can see is one eye.

“Quit it, your eye is freaking me out.”

“You’re freaking me out. What happened to ‘summer is all that matters, all other seasons are a capitalist cage, I want ice cream but I’m too cold, football can kiss my ass, all my theatre nerds are sick with flu’ blah blah whatever the fuck?”

“I never said any of that!”

“You know what I mean,” her brother finally pulls his phone back a little but the look he’s giving her is still alarmed. “You’re always complaining that summer is over until, like, April. It’s part of my routine.”

Ford shrugs. “I don't know. I guess the game is taking precedence over mourning summer. Fall is so depressing and winter is so cold I can’t go anywhere – I’m looking forward to having enough to do that I'm too tired to miss the sun but also, like, getting to actually hang out with people instead of just bossing them around.”

Her brother considers this then laughs. “Well, shit, if you say so. Maybe we should have tried to get you into hockey when you were younger if it was gonna make you this okay with seasons passing. Remember that time you cried all day? How old were you, twelve?”

“I was seven, you asshole.”

His voice goes high pitched and whiney, a horrible impression of seven-year-old Ford: “Summer’s gone and I don’t want to learn more math I want to go swimming and eat bugs and I hate school and–”

She hangs up on him. A minute later he texts a suitable time to meet up and good luck for the game tomorrow. Seconds later her other brother, probably prompted to do so, texts a reminder to keep her teeth intact if possible. Ford sends both of them back a heart, smiling and genuinely touched in spite of herself, then sets her phone aside to make dinner.

Outside, there’s rain lashing against the windows and the weather report last night had confirmed it was unlikely the weather would pick up again before temperatures started sliding for real. Ford listens to her phone buzzing while she cooks and knows it’s probably one of the girls getting chirped to hell and back in the group chat, checks neither of her flatmates have disturbed the gear bag she’s left by the door for tomorrow.

Spring and summer have always been Ford’s time, the pressure pleasantly on with shows to polish up and perform and the long days to fill, with fall and winter at a pace too slow and unfocused to be satisfying. Ford knows herself and she knows needs to be challenged and kept driven, anything else feels draining. Hockey is giving her direction, not to mention friends she so desperately needed in a new place, and Ford thinks she could love it for that alone.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to. The next night she gets a messy assist and even their team losing in the final minutes after a close three periods doesn’t soften any of the thrumming delight under her skin, doesn’t stop the helmet-taps she receives for getting an assist in her first game (her first game!) or the exclamation marks her family text in response to the news. Not even the cold wind that’s icy against her neck as she stands outside the rink and answers three separate emails on set production can ruin her mood. It's fall and she's still busy enough with things that excite her that she feels the pressure of it, feels the tiredness in her muscles. It's amazing.

Ford loves playing hockey.

Feeling charitable, she gets herself a pumpkin spice latte on the way home. It’s not quite her usual cold vanilla sweet cream, a flavour that’s like a mouthful of summer to her, but Ford thinks perhaps it’s something she could learn to like.

[oulfis]

2016 Reading Review

In my ongoing quest to make as many spreadsheets and graphs as possible, I pulled my reading history from Goodreads for 2016. Last year saw me through my last semester of coursework, and the entirety of my comprehensive exams, both of which I expected to have a pretty substantial influence on my reading habits. I’ll be curious to compare the stats to other years some time, but for now, let’s dig in to the 60 books I read last year!

Far too many graphs await you below the cut!

What’s in here?

What did I read, and why?

I mostly read prose, and I mostly read for fun! Comps had a smaller impact than I’d expected, probably because most of the things I was reading weren’t “books” in the sense that could be tracked by Goodreads, but poems and short works. I read or skimmed all of the Norton Anthology Volume A for comps (on Medieval literature – the shortest volume, and early in the process when I had maximum enthusiasm), but that only appears as one “book”!

Who were these books by?

I was worried that life in the ivory tower was going to lead to a more male-dominated reading list, so I’m quite pleased with those gender numbers! I’m… less pleased with those number on race. Kinda some textbook White Feminism TM on display here. I’m even more embarrassed that my one work by a nonwhite author, The Autobiography of Frederick Douglass, was not of my own choosing (since it was for comps). If I assume that “Clorinda Cathcart,” the pesudonymous author who constitutes my “?”, is also white, then things look even more dire:

Yikes. Um… anybody have any book recs to help on this front…?

When were these books written?

This question turned out to be much harder to answer in Tableau than I expected, since Tableau thinks 90% of what I read is too old to really care about. Seriously: Tableau counts dates forward from 1/1/1900, so you have to use negative numbers to input dates earlier than that! Thanks to this helpful post, I figured out how to fake it by just using the years as numbers, which yielded the following:

This seems like a remarkably even chronological dispersion! I suspect my comprehensive exams are responsible. 2017, my special fields year, is likely to look much more clustered.

How queer were these books?

This is the only metric of the books' content that I decided to explore.

…I have no idea whether this is a lot of queerness or not a lot! I was faced with a classification problem re: books that predate contemporary ideas of queer sexuality (i.e., most of the books I read). When a book is classified as having “interpreted” queerness, what I mean is that I described it to my friends with anachronistically queer vocabulary, i.e., Venice Preserv'd is about a man named Jaffeir and his wife Belvidera and his boyfriend Pierre, and so Venice Preserv'd contains “interpreted” queerness. The “?” means I can’t remember now (or never read the book closely enough to determine for sure) whether there is anything a bit queer in there – it seemed unfair to guess. The “teased” queerness is the TRAGICALLY UNFAIR murder mystery The Ice House by Minette Walters, which ostensibly opens with a polyamorous lesbian triad, but turns out to contain no such thing. (I spoil this plot development for your own benefit.)

How does this stuff correlate?

This is the exciting stuff!

Author gender & motivation for reading

These are still a bit “in progress” – for one thing, I couldn’t figure out a good way to add a legend, so I have to tell you where that male is blue and female is yellow. These graphs both show the same thing, but I’m not sure which is more useful as a way to display it. The bars make it easier to see that, for example, I read more books for comps than I did for class – but the dots make it easier to see that comps were more gender-balanced than my coursework.

Book queerness & motivation for reading, author gender

Refreshingly, the queerness was not confined to my “fun” reading, but showed up in class and comps too! It makes complete sense that “skills” books, like “How To Write Your Journal Article In 12 Weeks,” do not include queer content.

However, it looks like the author’s gender does have a big impact on queerness! This is probably in part the outsized influence of all eight volumes of Clorinda Cathcart's The Comfortable Courtesan, which is sort of the literary equivalent of lying on a chaise longue wearing fuzzy slippers and eating bonbons (all of which, incidentally, I often did while reading) – the story has all the pleasures of 18thC literature with none of the often-distressing 18thC attitudes.

Date published & form, author gender, motivation for reading

Poetry seems pretty evenly scattered, but you can sure see the influence of my class on 17thC to 18thC drama! Or, perhaps, the increasing prominence of prose over time.

Old books mostly by men, except for those women at the turn of the 19th century… which also constitute my old books that are for fun. It’s interesting how these three ways of colouring the identical graph encourage different mental ‘splits’ – looking at form makes the turn of the 19th century seem like a major transition in literature, from drama to prose, but that fulcrum is invisible in both the other graphs. The more I look at it, the more hilarious my idea of “fun” turns out to be: it’s mostly variously recent literature (probably sci fi and murder mysteries), but with a precisely focused interest in two specific decades 1790-1810. Which I freely admit already, but haven’t seen represented so starkly!

Date read & author gender, motivation for reading

Apparently, after I finished my exams at the beginning of September, I read almost exclusively books by women for the rest of the year. This is also here just to be a general purpose graph of when I read everything – I didn’t finish my first book until January 19, and then had some fluctuations throughout the year. May was ostensibly my first month studying for my comprehensive exams, but all those early texts must have not been “books” – December was much, much busier!

All right, one last graph, to wrap things up with a look at my experiences over the course of the year.

I think this captures my year of reading remarkably well! I like how the “fun” books on either side of the “class” books mark the start and end of the busy parts of the semester… and you can also see me finishing up the last of my seminar papers in April. Then comps is another big uninterrupted stretch of focused reading, also bookended with “fun”. And since then things are a big colourful jumble! This was a somewhat deeper dive into the data than I really expected to do, but it also barely scratches the surface. After all, I haven’t even gotten into the matter of comparisons! I have some ideas to shape my next year of reading, and am excited to see what it will look like.

If you made it this far, I am pleased and impressed, and would like to know: what other graphs should I make? What metrics should I track in 2017?