#i was checking my barnes and noble like twice a week

[kyolypso]

GUYS I FINALLY GOT IT

I'M SO EXCITED OMG

[thelastspeecher]

D&D AU - Elf Kid Adventures, Pt. 2

Electric Boogaloo

I actually have two more scenes planned to tie up this little story arc in my D&D AU where Stan is half-orc and half-elf.  I originally was going to include those scenes in this post, but then these two scenes on their own were much longer than I expected.  So, uh, here’s some awkward stuff, some angst, some “aww” moments, and most importantly, a whole mess of Stan being head over heels for Angie.

Enjoy.

——————————————————————————————

              Stan couldn’t decide whether the expectation he did chores was the worst part or the best part of staying at the McGucket farmstead. On the one hand, he had to get up when Ole Tinbeak – the earliest rising rooster – crowed.  On the other hand, the praise from Mr. McGucket never seemed to end.

              “Excellent!” Mr. McGucket said cheerfully, watching Stan lug a bale of hay twice his size.  “I must say, Stanaximus, yer the strongest elf I’ve ever seen, and yer only a child right now!”  Stan grinned despite the straws of hay poking his face.  “Would ya consider employment as a farmhand?”

              “Thanks,” Stan said, slipping into the manners that Mrs. McGucket had insisted on drilling into him.  “But I like being a ranger with Angie and Lute.”

              “Fair enough,” Mr. McGucket said.  Stan set down the bale of hay.  His vision now unobscured, he spotted Lute standing a few feet away.  Lute had never seemed that intimidating to Stan before, and his new age (and matching immature wardrobe with many pairs of shorts) only served to hinder his continued attempts.  He was in his thirties, according to Mrs. McGucket, which made him like a human five-year-old.

              “He’s only bein’ nice to you ‘cause yer a guest,” Lute hissed.  Stan snorted.

              “If you could see through all that hair, you’d know that’s not true,” he replied.  Lute lifted the dark bangs that covered his eyes to glare at Stan.

              “I can see just fine,” Lute snapped.  Stan grinned.

              “Aw, is someone grumpy ‘cause he’s overdue for a nap?” Stan teased.  Lute blushed fiercely.  The McGucket parents had insisted Lute have at least one nap a day at this age.  Something about the extra rest being particularly important for growing elves.  “Maybe you should go sleep.”

              “You-” Lute started.  Mr. McGucket came over.  He took his youngest son’s hand.

              “He’s right, Lute.  Stan, think ya can finish the chores if Angie helps?”

              “Uh, sure.  But I don’t know where she is,” Stan said slowly.  Someone jumped down from the barn’s loft, landing lightly in front of Stan.  Angie beamed at him.  “…How long were you up there?”  Angie shrugged.

              “It’s startin’ to get a bit dark, so ya best check the fence fer breaks first, ‘fore night falls,” Mr. McGucket said, leading Lute out of the barn.  Stan and Angie nodded.  Once Mr. McGucket was gone, Stan turned to Angie.

              “We’re supposed to check the fence?” he asked.

              “Yep!  Follow me.” Angie walked out of the barn. Stan followed.  They went to the enclosed cattle pasture and began to follow the fencing.  “Luckily, breaks ‘re pretty easy to spot,” Angie said cheerfully.  “And easy to fix, too.  Just a quick Mending.”  Stan nodded silently, trying to ignore how the setting sun made her golden hair turn a fiery orange.  They continued to walk in silence for a few moments.  “Don’t let Lute get ya down,” Angie said in a low tone.

              “Huh?  Oh, I’m not.” Stan shrugged.  “I actually kinda like being a kid again.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.  I’m-” Stan rubbed the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly.  “I’m not in that big of a rush to get this curse removed, to be honest.”  Angie came to a stop, leaning against the fencing. Stan did the same.  His hands gripped the wooden slats.  Angie turned her head to face him.  A few long golden strands of hair loose from her braid bounced with the movement.  The sun cast her form in a brilliant halo.

              “Why’s that?” she asked.  Distracted by how she looked in the fading light, Stan didn’t hear her question.

              “Huh?” he mumbled.  Angie rolled her silver eyes.  As dusk encroached, they began to glow with a faint foxfire.

              “Why are ya not in a hurry to be back to normal?” she asked.  “I thought ya missed yer tusks.”  Stan sighed.

              “I mean, I do.”

              “Then what’s goin’ on?”

              “I…”  Stan trailed off.  Angie scooted closer to him.  Her hand rested next to his, their skin touching.  Stan’s heartrate picked up.  Unable to stop himself, he blurted out the truth.  “I forgot how much better people used to treat me.”  Angie’s eyes widened.

              “…Pardon?” she asked.

              Shit.  Way to go, Stan.  This is what you get for being so easily distracted by pretty girls.

              “I grew up in a mostly human settlement,” Stan said quietly.  “The only elf who lived in town was my mom.  Looking like her, I got attention.  But it was good attention, ‘cause a lotta humans are obsessed with elves. Even travelers passing through would sometimes stop and talk to me and my twin brother.  I think…”  Stan furrowed his brow.  “I think my mom said that, if we had grown up in a proper elf environment, we wouldn’t be allowed to interact with visitors.  I guess elf kids are considered really important, so they get kept away from outsiders.  At least, that’s how it was where my mom grew up.”

              “Ma says things were the same way where she came from,” Angie said.  “She ‘n Pa had some disagreements ‘bout it when we were little.  So it’s probably a high elf thing, not a specific place thing.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan took a breath.  “I liked getting all that positive attention.  But then my tusks started growing in, and my hair got darker, and I got bigger in a way that elves just aren’t.”  Stan looked down at the dirt.  He nudged a clump with the toe of his borrowed boot.  “I stopped looking like my mom and started looking like my pops. And I don’t have a lick of human in me, so I don’t look like a proper half-orc.  By the time I was sixteen, I looked full orc.”  Angie made a strangled sound.  Stan looked at her.

              “Sixteen?” she choked out, shocked.

              “Orcs don’t live that long.  Until I became an adult, I aged close to the same rate humans do. I think I was about twenty when my elf side kicked in to slow it down.”

              “Oh.  Right.” Angie nodded.  “You told me ‘fore that you were in yer sixties.”

              “Yep.  Haven’t aged a day in the last forty years, thanks to Mom.”

              “Yes.  Okay, continue yer story.”

              “Well, I dunno how much there is left to tell. I looked like an orc, and you know how people treat orcs.  Visitors stopped giving me treats and started putting their hands on their weapons when they saw me.  Since that’s how it’s been for the last few decades, I forgot that people didn’t always look at me like I was about to kill them.”

              “Even if you don’t get the curse reversed, you’ll start agin’ on yer own,” Angie pointed out.  Stan’s stomach twisted into a knot.  “Sooner rather than later, you’ll look like yer father again.”

              “Yeah.  I know.” Stan’s head drooped.  “It’s just-”

              “No need to explain.  I understand,” Angie said firmly.  She placed her hand over Stan’s.  Stan’s heart skipped a beat.  “It’s easier to be an elf than an orc.”  She quirked a half-grin.  “Though, just so’s ya know, I prefer yer orcish self to yer elvish self.”

              “R-really?” Stan stammered.  Angie nodded.

              “Tusks ‘n all.”

----- 

              Stan had just finished his breakfast when Mr. McGucket entered the kitchen.

              “Stanaximus?” he said.  Stan looked over.

              “Yeah?”              

              “Walk with me, son.”

              “Um.  Okay.” Stan deposited his plate in the sink and followed Mr. McGucket outside.  “Did you need me for something?”

              “I just need to have a lil chat with ya,” Mr. McGucket said airily.  “But I think you’d prefer the chat happen where there aren’t ears to listen.” Dread began to build in Stan’s gut. The two walked off the main, cleared area that constituted the farmstead, and into the surrounding woods.  Mr. McGucket moved through the trees like he was one with his surroundings, effortlessly silent and graceful.  It was actually almost difficult for Stan to keep track of the man, as he blended in so well.

              I mean, he is a wood elf.  Makes sense.

              “What did you wanna talk about?” Stan asked. Mr. McGucket smiled.

              “You courtin’ my youngest child,” he said simply. Stan stumbled over a root.  Mr. McGucket caught him.  “You all right?”

              “Yeah, I’m- I’m-”  Stan swallowed.  “What makes you think I wanna court Angie?”

              “I see the way ya look at her.  Like she’s the sun, moon, ‘n stars.  There’s no mistakin’ what that means.”  Mr. McGucket looked at Stan.  “You can deny all ya want after this conversation, but I want ya to be truthful durin’ it, okay?”

              “…Fine,” Stan mumbled.  He clenched his hands into fists and ground them into his eyes.  “I…I really like Angie, and being a kid again has made it a lot worse.”

              “Makes sense.  Children have lesser control over their emotions, after all.  Thank you fer bein’ willin’ to talk blunt with me.”

              “Yeah, whatever.”

              “Now, I encourage ya to court Angie, once you’ve all been returned to yer proper ages.  But I needed to warn ya that a courtship with her won’t go without difficulties.”

              “What- what do you mean?” Stan asked.  Mr. McGucket sighed.

              “Politics.  Yer a noble, and my wife, she…she was somethin’ sim’lar ‘fore she left her home to be with me.  I don’t know whether she still has her title or not, and our children certainly don’t have any titles, but they do technically belong to a very powerful sun elf house.  If you were a wood elf, or even just a reg’lar sun elf, I doubt it would be a problem. As it is, it might not be.  But it could be.  So I figured I’d warn ya.”

              “But I’m not noble,” Stan said.  Mr. McGucket frowned at him.  “You guys keep insisting I am, but I’m not!  Maybe my mom is, or was, but my pops, he was about as far from noble as you can get.”

              “Was?”

              “…Pops passed away a few decades ago,” Stan said quietly.

              “My condolences.”

              “I don’t need ‘em.  He was a kinda shit father.”

              “Hmm.”  At Mr. McGucket’s thoughtful, though noncommittal, sound, Stan looked up.  There was a troubled look on the man’s face.  “Would that be related to the scars on yer back and arms?”

              “How- how do you-”

              “Harper saw when he took ya to the lake to swim last week,” Mr. McGucket explained.  Stan stifled a curse.  The oldest McGucket son, Harper, had showed up unexpectedly with his adopted children, then insisted on them all doing activities during his visit.  Harper was an incredibly odd person, but Stan thought he was at least tolerable.

              At least, I used to think that.  Now that I know he’s a snitch?  Nah.

              “I want to revisit this at a later time,” Mr. McGucket said after a moment. “Right now, we need to talk about you courtin’ my daughter.”

              Do we?

              “There’s no doubt you have noble blood, Stan.  Just yer full name is one that’s indicative of high status.  Even if ya don’t have a noble title or upbringing, ya have it in yer heritage.”  Mr. McGucket cocked his head thoughtfully.  “Though not havin’ a title will prob’ly make it so Angie’s own royal blood ain’t a factor.”

              “Did you say ‘royal’?” Stan croaked.  A twinkle entered Mr. McGucket’s eye.

              “Yes.”  Stan’s jaw dropped.  “Now, I will say- wait.”

              “What?” Stan asked.  Mr. McGucket now looked at him with visible concern.

              “Open yer mouth, son.”  Before Stan could comply or refuse, Mr. McGucket carefully pried his jaws open, looking at his teeth like he was determining a horse’s age.  “Oh, no.  Are these…fangs?”  Instantly, Stan broke into a cold sweat.

              Fuck!  My tusks! They started coming in!  Mr. McGucket released his hold and took a step back, worry etched on his face.  Stan closed his mouth.

              “It’s okay,” Stan said quickly.

              “Son, you have two teeth what shouldn’t be there, and what look awful dif’rent from yer other teeth.”

              “It’s, um…”  Stan’s mind raced.  “My pops, he got cursed when he was younger, and it got passed down to me somehow.”

              “Really.”

              “Yeah.”  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.  “It’s not a problem.”

              “Maybe.  But when we get this main curse off ya, we’ll take a look at this one that made ya grow fangs.”

              “Maybe…”

              Gods, no, there’s no way in any of the planes that I’d let some elf take my tusks away.  Stan and Mr. McGucket entered a large clearing.  Stan blinked at the farmhouse before them.  Without him realizing, they’d walked back to the McGucket farmstead. Mr. McGucket put a hand on his shoulder.

              “Yer a very interestin’ young man,” he said.

              Damn, and he doesn’t even know I’m half-orc.

              “I’d like to have many more conversations with ya.  But since yer likely to woo my daughter, I have no doubt I’ll have plenty of opportunities to chat.”

              “I might not court her,” Stan said quietly.  The second he spoke, he knew it was a lie.  There was no chance he wouldn’t shoot his shot.

              “It’d be a shame if ya didn’t, since ya have not just my blessin’, but that of my wife, too.”  Mr. McGucket squeezed Stan’s shoulder.  “And not to mention, we wouldn’t push ya to court if we didn’t think it would go well.” Stan swallowed.  “All right, ya can go back to denyin’ now.  I have to go run a few errands, and you have some chores.”

              Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Stan headed for the barn. As he approached, Angie emerged from it. She caught sight of him and waved. Stan’s heart did yet another backflip upon seeing her.  She came over to him.

              “Were ya in the woods with my pa?” she asked.

              “Yeah.  Don’t worry, he didn’t try to hunt me or anything.  He just wanted to talk.”

              “What were you talkin’ ‘bout?”

              “How you’re actually a long-lost elven princess,” Stan said casually. Angie gasped and punched his shoulder. “Nah, it was just weird stuff where he called me ‘son’ a lot and wanted to know about my family.”

              “He called ya ‘son’, huh?”

              “Yeah.”

              “Sounds to me like he was askin’ ‘bout yer fam’ly ‘cause he considers ya part of ours.”  Angie winked. “Good luck with that.”  Stan grinned confidently.

              “I think I can handle your family.  I mean, I handle you all right,” he said.  Angie threw her head back and laughed.

              “I’ll let ya continue to think that.”

[doubleshotofsomething]

Publicity Stunt

Publicity Stunt | Part Five

Warnings: Swearing. Fluff?? Idk man just like a bunch of mushy mushy feely stuff

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader is a Fixer/PR and longtime friend of Pepper Potts. There’s literally two parts left and thats just sad.

PS: So i was sick the past week and i decided to google my symptoms (even though it was literally a cold), and i found out that there was a US President that died of a flu shortly after his inauguration and i have never valued modern medicine more in my entire life. Idk why im telling you guys this, it was literally in my head and i just felt like “hey. maybe they wanna know??” and here we are. we have a strong immune system that can withstand the illness that once killed a president. now thats a superpower. pow pow. 

PPS: please ignore the PS

Scroll to the bottom for the next part

---

 Bucky hated your assistant.

He loathed the poor guy more than he should have, more than he thought was possible. The random resumes that found their way through the slit at the bottom of your door, each one containing a female graduate far more qualified than the other, were just a small indicator of that.

You practically rotated around Jonah; wherever he was, there you were a few feet away and visa-versa. You had skipped morning jogs, always starting and ending your days in the boardroom amongst paperwork and your assistant. You were watching less Disney movies, spending less time with Morgan and the team, even Wanda had to drag you out of the boardroom just so you can drink coffee with her in the morning.

“You know, he makes her coffee now,” Wanda had said bitterly to Bucky, glaring at Jonah as he walked out of the kitchen with a fruit salad. “And he doesn’t even make it the way she likes it.”

Bucky frowned, turning in his bar stool to look at her, “you don’t make it the way she likes it.”

Red eyes glowered back at him, daring him to continue. “You starting to sound a lot like that walking lump of meat.”

“I’m not trying to offend you,” he raised his hands in surrender, “I’m just saying, she only drinks your coffee because she likes you.”

“Bullshit.” Her nose flared, “Bullshit and I’m gonna prove it!”

You had drunk her coffee and assured her that you liked the way she made it, told her not to listen to Bucky because you never did. Then your phone rang and you bolted out of the room before he could even say anything.

 You weren’t you anymore, not the you that he was getting to know these past few months. You weren’t cooking with him anymore; your nights were strictly takeout nights. You weren’t scolding everyone like you used to, too occupied with whatever Jonah was saying or with whomever you were on the phone with to even cringe when Morgan clung to. You weren’t calling him a monument anymore and he was hating Jonah for it.

It was past midnight when he found you. You were sitting on the floor, barely awake, with papers scattered all around you and the TV on that news channel you always played in the background.

You jumped slightly when he sat down next to you, and that bugged him.

You let out a breath and laughed softly at your racing heart, with your hand on your chest, and that annoyed him.

You barely glanced at him when you said you thought he was sleeping, and that tipped the boiling pot.

“I made a list,” he said, one leg bent under the one stretched out behind you.

You nodded, focusing back on your laptop and the papers in front of you. “Are you gonna check it twice?” You retorted, “find out who’s naughty and nice?”

Your heart hadn’t stopped racing since he sat down. It had been days since your last encounter alone with him, you’d like to think that was the reason your stomach was knotting –given that your last encounter wasn’t a fond memory of yours – but you’ve known that sensation since his sea blue eyes met yours. Your heart had since forgotten its rhythm, beating at rates you couldn’t understand but accepted, nonetheless. The only problem now, was that you don’t remember how you smothered, how you ignored, those feelings before.

“I already checked it, and had Jarvis check it,” he said, his head tilting to the side a bit to get a clear view of your face, “but you haven’t interviewed them yet.”

“Jonah is irreplaceable.”

“The five years and three assistants you had when he dusted say otherwise.”

“Barnes—”

That’s not how you used to say it, he thought as he stared into the side of your face.

It used to sound so beautiful when you said it; so natural, so fluent. He couldn’t remember how many times he told people to call him ‘Bucky’, it was already an automatic response to being called anything else. But his tongue felt heavy every time you called him Barnes; his frostbitten heart warmed just a little, just enough to let him breathe again – live again. Suddenly, he didn’t want to correct you, to ask you to call him Bucky, because his last name had never sounded so good, so right, cloaked in your voice.

It would sound so much better, next to your name. He almost smiled at the thought.

Now, though, it sounded… worn. Like a part of it died when he fell of that train. Like it somehow survived the fall but wasn’t fully itself – in and out of consciousness – with only glimpses and fragments of what it used to be, pieces that were only scraped away with a rusted knife every moment they occurred.

“You might as well call me Soldat, if that’s how you’re gonna say my name,” the words left his lips before he could even stop them, acidic in their true form.

Because you said it in the same way you had once said Winter Soldier.

You visibly tensed, slowly turning to face him. You weren’t sure what to expect when you eventually looked at him, hostility perhaps – even blankness would have been acceptable. You certainly did not expect a sea of emotion staring back at you.

You glared into the kind of blue you never thought you’d like. “Don’t,” you began through gritted teeth, “don’t you ever say that to me, ever again.”

You didn’t want to feel the way you did whenever he was around, or whenever you thought of him. You had tried, countless of times, to rationalise it, make it into something you could understand. He was a monument of a man, you had tried to justify to yourself, a legend in the making. That had to be why you felt like your chest was going to explode with rage, why you couldn’t stop seeing red when you finished reading his files. It had to be because those timid blue eyes and that cheeky grin were forced behind a wall of ice, that the government was planning on putting him behind another inhumane wall, right? You were all sorts of angry because of the violations made by others, not because of the horrors suffered by him, right?

His blood was bluer than blue, because he was a war hero story waiting to be told. Not because you thought he was worth far more noble, far more royal, than any monarch.

He was Celestial-like because he lived through things no other human could, he survived terrors that people couldn’t even imagine. Not because he was the first person to ever make you believe in something… believe in him.

He was a monument, because… because, damn it, you had a thing for monuments and that had to be the reason you felt the way you do.

“Then don’t say it like that,” he fired back, moving an inch closer to you. “Say it like you used to.”

“I’m—”

“And get rid of him,” he interjected, reaching for your laptop and closing it.

“Jonah is not leaving.” You accentuated every word, glowering up at him. “That’s not even up for discussion.”

But you are, he wanted to say, you’re leaving me.

He shouldn’t feel like this about you. He wanted to believe that this, the feelings, was only temporary, was only one-sided. But he couldn’t. Not when his every decision, since he met you, revolved around whether you would approve. Not when his every thought, every word, every idea seems perfectly crafted to fit you in any and every way. Not when you let him rile you up – he’s watched your previous press conference; nothing gets under your skin. It couldn’t be one-sided, this unrelenting pull he feels towards you had to be reciprocated, especially when you’re staring at him like you just read his mind.

You weren’t Wanda, you couldn’t read minds, but you would have liked to. Especially when you swear you just witnessed an entire ocean dry up in those moody blues of his.

“Then what is?” His voice is softer, the knee of his bent leg laying just beneath you criss-crossed legs.

“What?” You breathed out, wondering when he had gotten so close so quickly. Was his file the one with super speed?

“What is up for discussion?” He clarified, removing the supporting hand to pluck the out of your hand and tossing it behind him. “Can we talk about how you’ve been avoiding me, since you passed out in the woods?”

You were staring into a filling ocean now, one that was filling rapidly and with hush waves you had never seen before.

“Can we talk about how you scared the shit out of me that night?”

They were relentless as they stared back, crushing into you so mercilessly that you thought you might drown.

“Can we talk about—” he swallowed, fighting to find the right words, “—what I want, for once?”

His hands were hot on your cheeks, your hands felt soft and delicate as they rested on his shoulders, your legs on either side of his. When had he moved you onto his lap?

“What?” You rasped out in confusion, unsure of how you ended up on his lap, unsure of why you wanted his hands back on your waist but still on your cheek.

Your chest was pressed to his, close but not close enough. “I wanna go back to that night,” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours. “I wanna go back to that moment, when it was just you and me. When you held onto me so tight, like you were scared I’d disappear if you let go. I wanna hold like that—”

“Ba—”

“I wanna hold you like that, every morning, so fucking close, so bloody tight—” his metal arm moved to wrap around your waist, hugging you closer to him, “I wanna wake up to you, in my arms, every time. Not just in the morning, in the middle of the night too, when you’re turning or when I just wake up because—” his right hand moved to cup your jaw, his thumb gently treading below your bottom lip, “—because I… I wanna give you my last name, make it yours, put a ring on every one of your pretty little fingers. Maybe give you one or two of those babies you pretend not to like, fuck, sweetheart. I wanna know what you feel like—”

“Bucky,” you tried to warn him to stop, but it came out as more of a whine than a scold.

“I know,” he breathed out a short laugh, pressing his forehead against yours and shutting his eyes. “I just—” he swallowed, “—I wanna love you so fucking bad, give you everything, give you all of me and more. Because, fucking hell, you deserve it all. I wanna build you that monument you never shut up about, wanna make an honest woman out of you—”

His lips brushed yours accidently, at first, then tentatively – as if checking to see if you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you – and when you didn’t pull away, he went all in. And, damn it all to hell, your lips were softer than he had imagined, better, intoxicating. He didn’t want to stop, he kept pressing closer into him, even though there wasn’t a breath between you both. You didn’t think you could stop, not when it felt like this; like something you couldn’t place, but somehow knew what it was, and it was exactly what you had been lacking all these years.

“Lemme—” his right hand tangled into your hair, his attempt to bring you closer, “—love you, darling, I can love you good.”

Next part

[tomhollandish]

Always Like This

A/N: After maybe two years of never writing anything, I’m back for @pparkerwrites writing challenge! This is my magnum opus, clocking in at 14k, and it’s inspired by Studio Ghibli’s Whisper of the Heart, The Louvre by Lourde, the prompt “I wish we could stay like this forever”, and my own anxiety about finishing college and growing older.

Summary: As you begin wrapping up your final year in college, you have some wishes, fears and regrets. This is the story of how you overcame all of them, with a little help from your friends. Platonic!Avengers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, mentions of past Bruce Banner x Reader and Quentin Beck x Reader (Yeah, I know,)

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of (public) sex, and the reader being an anxious wreck

Word count:  14k (my bad)

                                         *            *            *            *

There is a tap once, twice, three times against the plastic cubicle, but your attention is elsewhere. As you breathe heavily, you can still see the black and white pages of your latest research endeavor printed underneath your eyelids. You swim in the words, trying to pick out what you can even comprehend when the rapping becomes less gentle.

“’Tis some visitor,” you recited, mumbling out the lines of a poem you’d once memorized. “Rapping at my chamber door.”

“It’s campus police,” the visitor said, and you fumbled to sit up properly. The harsh florescent lights made your eyes bleed, and the ugly khaki uniform of the man hovering over you was just as terrible a sight.

“Fuck,” you cursed, and then upon realizing that you just cursed in front of an officer (a glorified security worker, but you weren’t about to take pot shots right now), you covered your mouth. “I’m sorry, I just–”

“I just need your ID.” He smiled politely and you squirmed under the gesture.

“Right.”

You found it wholly ridiculous that this man was carding you in your campus library at—what time was it? —three in the morning as if you could be anyone other than a student. No sane person would be doing this without reason, and even so your reasons were wearing incredibly thin as your shitty bachelor’s degree grew closer into your clutches.

A bachelor’s degree in English? What will you even do with that?

Doesn’t matter what it’s in. It just matters that I’ve got it.

You didn’t want to spend four years doing something you hated. (With your bullshit Liberal Arts Program, it was really only two years of English, but who was counting?) You thought it would be easy to just pick up some desk jobs that would pay the bills once you graduated. But then you decided to grow noble and have an ambition and things rapidly changed.

The officer handed your card back to you. His eyes flitted over to the mess of a work station you had, before giving a pitying smile. “Long night huh? Haven’t seen you stay here this late in a while.”

Goosebumps ran up your arm. You tried to play it cool, painting on a smile as you wracked your brain for familiarity. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“No, not really. I’ve been working this shift for maybe two years, and you’re on this floor a lot at night. I just, uh, remember you.”

“Uh,” you blinked, unable to answer. The odds of this guy remembering you were like, twenty thousand to one. And while you were a regular patron of the third floor (it is the film section after all) it seemed unlikely that someone could pick out your face.

The guard seemed to understand that he’d stumped you, so he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and moved on. Still stunned, you stared back at the pile of books across the table and groaned at the thought of continuing. It was late, and you had class at ten the next morning. The very class you were doing all this work for.

You sighed deeply and pondered whether or not to call it a night—it was only the third week of the fall semester and you were already working like a dog. There was a terrible feeling in your gut that if you didn’t save your energy for later, it would bite you in the ass.

Settling for checking out one last book, you scribbled down its call number and pulled yourself out of the mini cubicle, heading for the stacks. As you made your way you noticed that there were really only a few other people with you, many of them with their heads ducked into textbooks or laptops, engrossed in their own worlds.

The people began to fade away as the rows and rows of books dominated the room. You looked up and down between your notebook as you stomped through sections, passing anatomy, then biology before glancing at American literature. You ducked down one row, fingers grazing every book as you mumbled the call number under your breath, afraid it would escape you.

Finally, you knelt down, wincing as your knees cracked audibly in the quiet library. Sitting on the bottom shelf like it had been waiting on you for eons was the book in question; an innocuously black bound book, the title in plain white letters on the spine. A library reprint. You opened it, just be sure it was the exact copy you were looking for, when you realized something.

Someone had annotated this copy. Your school didn’t charge damages for writing in library books, but this person seemed to have written paragraphs worth of content between margins and on blank pages. It was the kind of analysis that could only belong to someone taking it very seriously; perhaps a fellow film studies major.

But the writing wasn’t mesmerizing because it was insightful, rather, it was because you recognized it. You stomped your way back to your seat with purpose, looking for the other companion novel; a newer, cleaner, bigger book and yet, as you flipped the pages you caught glimpses of the handwriting—legible, but obviously a quick scrawl. The e’s were always connected to the letter after it, and the m’s were hardly definable squiggles, but it was still nice to look at.

As you’d combed your way through these books, you’d found their handwriting more than once. They usually echoed the sentiment you’d been trying to capture, but they had done so first. It had discouraged you at first, thinking yourself a simple copy-cat, but it later comforted you that someone shared your ideals.

It was wishful thinking to wonder about them. Useless and distracting.

You still entertained the thought.

The whole trip back to your dorm, you busied yourself with thoughts of them–their major, if they had graduated already or if they were still here; what if you shared a class with them, or better yet, if you knew them? Your mind filled with romantic possibilities as your body took you through the process of getting you home—a maneuver you could pull in your sleep.

Once at home, you forgot all the formalities of bedtime routines and simply stripped down, crashing straight into bed. Sleep would overcome you in any moment, but in your last fleeting moments of consciousness you dreamed of flipping pages and handwriting.

                                           *            *            *            *

If college were a racket, you’d be fucking rich.

You’ve been at the same shit for nearly two decades, and still you felt like you were the absolute best at it. Sure, you weren’t top of the class (probably not even close) but your professors loved you and other students made the effort to know your name. You weren’t the obnoxious teacher’s pet, nor were you class clown, but people acknowledged your existence, which was honestly more than you could ever ask for.

It was moments like these when you thought twenty thousand a year (all in loans!) might have been worth it; you were talking with your professor—whom you called Kyle with the ease of an old friend—after class about some nonsense that had happened over the weekend, about the movies you had watched recently, and about school.

You felt a strange bittersweetness as he began to talk about your undergraduate thesis again, bringing up all the regalia that your presentations entailed. Maybe he noticed your sudden hesitation at the topic, because he stopped speaking and hummed.

“You’ve already started working on it, haven’t you?” It was a confirmation, but there was still a layer of trepidation to his voice you couldn’t decipher. You nodded, but it didn’t disappear. “You’re far more prepared than the others.”

“I’ve been thinking about this since sophomore year,” you confessed. “It’s nerve wracking, thinking about the presentation, but I like the topic.”

“When you blurted out your thesis during the first meeting, I think everyone wanted to kill you,” he laughed. “But as I’ve gotten to know you, I’m not surprised at all. You always know what you want.”

There was a lull then—a moments hesitation where you wanted to bluntly correct Kyle and tell him that you didn’t actually know what you wanted, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead you smiled, and took that silence as a good place as any to end the conversation and quickly walk out of the room as the reality of your situation crashed back into you.

Staring at the tiles beneath your feet, you tried not to trip over your own mental leaps. Everything came folding in on itself as you thought of the upcoming semesters like the end of an era; the last of your eighteen years of education. Anxiety crept up your spine like a chill, and you felt yourself gripping your books tighter to keep from shaking.

And them something jammed into your shoulder, hard, the books in your hand spilling all over the floor. You grumbled to yourself, thinking you’d clumsily walked into a wall, but then you heard “Um, hello?”

Fear struck your heart as you turned to face someone: a boy, looking at you with knotted brows and his arms open with the expectation of an apology. Your fear turned to annoyance as you studied details like his tiny, low ponytail, his navy-blue blazer and the copy of The Sound and The Fury clutched in his hand.

You looked back at his face, painted with clear annoyance and spat out a half-assed, “sorry,” topped with a fake smile. His animosity was near palpable as he heel turned and kept walking, leaving you to pick up your things alone. You muttered under your breath angrily.

“Asshole, English Major Prick.”

                                          *            *            *            *

It was ironic to call the boy you’d bumped into earlier an asshole, considering who you spent your time with.

Your Monday/Wednesday afternoon schedule ended with a late as hell lunch with some old friends. Emphasis on old, because you were pretty sure after your major switch you had nothing in common with these men anymore.

“And what I’m telling you,” Tony Stark punctuated with a wave of his hands, “is that there’s no way Beck’s design would even theoretically work, let alone should Dr. “MIT graduate” allow him to continue with this completely doomed to fail idea.” He pointedly took a bite of the (likely now cold) pasta he’d spent ten minutes raving over before spitting it out onto a napkin. “God, what the fuck is up with this cafeteria?”

“Maybe if you would shut up for ten seconds, your food would still be warm.” You never had any clue what the self-proclaimed genius was ever talking about. It was a wonder you considered him a friend still, but even his annoying tendencies couldn’t break the brotherhood you all had from sharing the shittiest dorm on campus freshman year. You felt like you still owed Tony a debt for killing that roach in your shower all those years ago.

“I agree with Y/N, for once.” You side eyed Strange, wondering if there was some sort of punchline, but then he gave a nod of solidarity. “You’ve been complaining about this guy non-stop.”

“Beck is just,” Tony banged his fists on the table, shaking every one of your trays. “So infuriating. Y/N, how did you ever fuck this guy?”

“Stop,” Bruce says, his arms hovering over his drink and other objects that might fall over. “Tony, I’m begging you to let this go.”

“See, even Bruce admits he’d tired of this. Can we move on please?”

“Oh? Tired of me bring up your ex in front of your ex?”

“Tony, knock it off,” Bruce warned, but there was no threat in his voice. Tony dropped the subject, but still looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.  

“Or do you have any exciting developments in…what is it you do again?”

You threateningly held out your fork towards the engineering major and he flinched. “I’m about to major in murder if you don’t Shut. Up.”

The three science majors stopped their babbling and hurriedly shoveled their food into their mouths. You sighed into your cup of powered lemonade. While you were used to Tony’s jabs, he was right: your future felt inconsequential next to their aspirations. But you would be damned if you let either him or Stephen Strange know that you felt that way.

Bruce laced his fingers together and fidgeted for a moment. You turned to him, and he smiled nervously. “So, how’s your paper coming along?”

There was another awkward pause as you sipped your drink, trying to come up with something impressive or dramatic enough to hold their attention. And then you rolled your eyes at the thought. “Well, I’m at the part of the process where I sit in the library until my mind goes numbingly blank from staring at an empty word document or director interviews or companion books and then I go home and never sleep.” You said honestly. This earned a laugh out of Tony.

“English Majors: They’re just like us!” he joked.

“That fact that you think college majors are equivalent to high school cliques is very telling of your immaturity,” you sneer at Tony. He throws a fake smile at you—not that any of his smiles are ever real.

“Psychoanalyze me all you want, Dickinson,”—his habit of calling you whatever writer came to his mind was also telling— “But the fact is, the three of us are more like each other than we are to you. It’s just facts.”

You looked to Bruce for a moment. Like always, he was on the same wavelength as you—he averted his gaze the moment you two locked eyes. “Be that as it may, we’re still friends somehow.”

“‘Somehow’ being the operative word,” Strange spoke under his breath. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Not my fault the three of you are giving into society’s capitalist ways and are only in it for the money.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Tony says, dropping his fork in his barely touched food. He purposefully scoots his chair back with a grating noise and you wince at the sound. “Y/N, I can’t handle you when you’re like this.”

You huffed. “Now you know how we feel about you all the time.”

“I’m done with this discussion. Strangelove, Brucey,” he acknowledges his friends by their stupid nickname before rolling out. Strange sighs before following his lead, but Bruce stays put.

“He’s sensitive about that.”

You shrugged. “Then maybe he should try going into a career that helps people instead. No ones making him become a money mongering executive.”

“You know what his dad is like.”

“Yeah, rich.”

Bruce dragged his hands down his face, but there was a chuckle underneath his exasperation. “Your coldness is honestly so incredible. Aren’t writers supposed to be compassionate?”

“I am compassionate,” you stated defensively. And then, more flippantly, “Just not to rich industrialists who steal from the middle class.”

You laughed when Bruce shook his head at you. “You’re unbelievable.”

“So are you,” you said, nudging his shoulder with your own. There was nothing in the gesture, not like there used to be. “I mean, you want to be a nuclear physicist, or whatever. Ain’t nothin in that but prestige and your name on same wall.”

“You know that’s not what I want.” He used that voice, the one you’d become intimately familiar with towards the end of your relationship. “I just want to pursue something I’m passionate about. Isn’t that what you want too?”

The fruit under your fork slid out and rolled across the table. Both of your eyes followed it as it fell out of sight, and then you said nothing. Bruce sighed.

“I didn’t mean too—”

“Yeah you did.”

The buzzing of your phone jolted you two out of the tense moment. You lifted it up, seeing a message from Steve. You felt Bruce’s eyes peering over at your phone.

“You got to go?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll walk you there.”

“No, Tony’s probably waiting for you outside. He’ll just follow both of us if you don’t go with him.”

He pursed his lips, caught between a rock and a hard place. He looked up at you as you prepared to leave.

“I really didn’t mean it.”

“Even if you didn’t, you’re right.” It wasn’t hard to admit anything to Bruce, even after everything. “You’re damn good at it too.”

He tried to swallow back his bashful smile, but there was still a shimmer of it in his eyes. “You’re good at what you do, too.”

“Well, after four years, I’d fucking hope so.”

Bruce laughed through his goodbye, and you reveled in that small victory as you booked it to the art building.

                                        *            *            *            *

Perhaps it’s the creative part of you, but a piece of your heart fully adored that decrepit, godforsaken building. The elevator was broken, the hallways were a rotating gallery of amateur and professional projects, and it always smelled like some sort of chemical, but the building has charm.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Steve stopped in his tracks to look at you when you said that. He’d been guiding you through the labyrinth known as Bauer Hall with a well-trained quickness. He resumed it after the initial shock of your statement wore off. “You’re a real romantic, you know that?”

“I do,” you said, knowing there was no way to defend yourself from such a true statement. “But so are you.”

“There’s only so many things I can romanticize, and I have to say, Bowser Hall ain’t one of them.” You laughed through your nose at the ridiculous nickname. “Besides, I’m all romanced out.”

Steve walked through a room lined with canvases bigger than the both of you. In different corners students painted in different styles, with different elaborative brush strokes that revealed their subjects in a matter of moments. Someone’s music played from a wireless speaker, but you imagined everyone had tuned it out.

Steve lead you to his station, which was currently covered with photos of you. It was embarrassing to see yourself plastered all over his desk, but as you studied to pictures closer, you became enthralled.

“Is it narcissistic to compliment how awesome these looks?” Awesome didn’t even encapsulate the emotion. Not by a long shot. Over the summer Steve had approached you about featuring in his senior art show pieces, and you’d shot preliminary photos. He couldn’t guarantee that he’d paint you given the complexity of his idea (as well as his own perfectionism) but now he was promising that he would paint you.

So, you stared down at the photos, remembering the how he’d climbed onto your roof at night and shined a flashlight taped with blue gels through your window and you tried not to laugh. The fruits of that night where in your fingertips, and you were struck at how much more somber your face looked on a physical photo than it had on the camera that night.

“It’s not narcissistic considering Nat took the photo,” he said, leaning over your shoulder. He rummaged through the stack before he pulled out a specific picture. “I think I’m going with this one.”

“Of course you are,” you poked fun at him, but you actually did like that photo. The light that shined across your eyes was blue, but you were shrouded in a hazy purple. It was a close shot, with your hands framing the expression on your face that was equal parts haunting and beautiful. Steve had been trying to capture those hard-to-explain moments that crossed people’s faces, and yours had been the most agonizing. In his words.

“With most people it takes forever to get the shot. You got it in one.” There was veiled concern in his statement, but you’re a master of words. You drop the photo and step back from it all, looking at Steve.

“Wasn’t hard,” was all you told him. Steve took the photo and tacked it up to a ready to paint canvas.

“I’m thinking about using these two as well.” Steve handed you two other photos of different subjects, only one of which you really know.

“When’d you take this?” You flipped over the photo Sam, his face caught precisely between elation and realization. Steve took it gingerly before sitting back on his stool. You wished he could paint the look of utter longing that plagued his own blue eyes.

“He got the deployment letter that morning,” Steve explained. His voice was low as he talked through the lump in his throat. “I asked him to pose for me, because I knew when I saw his face that I wanted to capture whatever the hell it was I just saw.”

“He’s used to being your guinea pig. I’m sure he liked knowing he’s the inspiration for your project.”

“He’ll probably hold it over my head ‘till I die,” Steve managed a laugh, but it was hollow. The sigh he took afterwards could have cracked his ribs.

“It’ll be a great gift, you know? A huge photo of his favorite thing—himself.” His laugh this time was slightly more genuine. You’d have to take it.

“Who’s this?” You showed Steve the second photo, one of a man whose face was marred with the shadow of blinds, his eyes looking back as if it pained him to. Nat was a wonderful photographer, and Steve had an amazing vision, but you knew Steve well enough to know that whoever this was, the look was all his own.

“Oh, that’s Buck,” he said easily, and you lean forward as a gesture to elaborate. “Bucky, my best friend?”

“Not ringing any bells.”

“Hmm. You probably don’t know him because he was in Prague the semester we became friends.” Steve had been part of your freshman dorm nightmare, but he lived on a different floor than the rest of you. You didn’t get to know him until you realized Nat was a mutual friend.

“Did he spend a whole year there?” You leaned forward and stared at the picture, trying to find any recollection of this guy. “Cause it’s been like, a year since then.”

“No, but he did have an internship when he came back, I’d forgotten about that.”

You dropped the photo, feeling jealousy prickle down your arms. “Wow. Busy guy.”

“He tries to keep himself busy. Otherwise he looks like that all the time.” You understood the implication. You pinned the photos next to each other and contemplated just how Steve was going to recreate them in all their glory. He seemed to have the same thought, because he ran a hand through his hair.

“It really will take me all semester, but I’m excited.” He bounced on his feet. “I think I’ve found my thing.”

“Your thing?”

“Yeah, my niche, I guess,” he shrugged, but his excitement was contagious. “It’s good to be excited about something again.”

“I’m glad you love your project, because it’s going to turn out amazing,” you assured him.

“Thanks. I started Sam’s painting already and it wore me out. I think I’ll start on Buck’s next. Sorry,” he shot you an apologetic grin. “I’m just tired of looking at the same colors.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me for anything,” you said earnestly. “I totally get it. In fact, I think I’ve taken a long enough break on my own work.” You backed away from the blank canvas and glossy photos, feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden. “It’s no masterpiece, but.”

“Hey, your writing is always incredible. I read that paper you wrote about the mis-en-scene of Art Cinema.” He recited with your work with such ease, it made you blush. “You’re really good at writing., Y/N.”

“You remembered.” You tried to laugh off the little swell of pride in your chest. “You’re sweet, Steve, but this is a lot more than a three-page writeup.”

“If it’s yours, it’ll be great. What’s your thesis again?”

“The politics of monster movie horror films.” When you told him, Steve shook his head with a proud grin.

“See? That’s brilliant!”

“It’s been done before—”

“Everything’s been done before. But you haven’t done this. You’re smart, you love movies, and you’re the most well rounded, analytical person I know. You’ve got this.”

You wanted to run back and give him the clingiest hug of your life, but instead you swung bashfully on the doorframe. “Thank you for your support, Steve, but I have to at least write it first.”

He waved you off. “Fine. Go, be great.”

You felt something unidentifiable rise in your stomach as you left, the knot only growing bigger and bigger until you reached the library. You wanted to exhale it out of your chest as you pushed the up button in the elevator, but it stayed stuck in your throat instead. You decided to leave it be as you settled into one of the plastic cubicles on the third floor, your home for the foreseeable future.

                                           *            *            *            *

Anxiety. That had been the feeling.

It gnawed at your stomach and in return you gnawed at your lip, thinking about Steve’s success as an artist and Bruce’s summer spent applying to grad schools. The future was in sight for both of them while yours was blocked by your laptop screen, showing you the three pages you had done out of the twenty you needed.

Angrily, you slammed the computer screen down and shoved it into your bag. The buzzing overhead light made red spots dance in your eyes even when you closed them, so you figured it was time for a break.

And by “break”, you meant spending the fifteen minutes between your apartment and the library trying to reword the sentence that had been bugging you over and over again. You were so out of it that when you opened your apartment door you were in shock of all the people sitting in your living room, despite having seen all their cars parked out in front.

Someone’s greeting went whizzing by you, but it’s only after the door slammed shut did you piece together that it was Pietro. The rest of the group chorused “Hi Y/N” with varying levels of enthusiasm.

“Hey, sorry they’re so loud,” Wanda pulled her cardigan close when she crossed her arms, smiling uncertainly at you. “I won’t have them here too late.”

“Nah, they’re fine,” you brushed off, slipping out of your uncomfortable shoes. You hated the fall—it always encouraged your terrible habit of style over function. “I’m just here for a quick costume change then it’s back to the ol’ grind.”

Normally Wanda would chuckle at your ridiculous phrases, but she creased her brows when she continued talking. “Actually, we were thinking of grabbing some food. Pietro’s bulking, or doing some other stupid diet and Viz thought we could go back to the diner. You know, the one on the corner of 11th?”

Oh, you knew the 11th street diner. It was the premier spot; you’d been there on dates, 21st birthdays, celebrated there after long arduous projects, and gorged on fries after movie marathons with Peter. The sheer mention of the diner was enough to make you swoon, and Wanda was likely exploiting that weakness.

So, when you sighed, her eyes lit up. “I’m sorry,” you said, watching as her shoulders deflated. Your heart broke at the sight. “I have to work on this paper. It’s—”

“Your senior thesis, I know, but. Y/N when was the last time you ate?”

You had the audacity to look defensive. “I ate with Bruce and Tony earlier today.”

“I saw Bruce and I asked him. He said you only ate a bowl of fruit and some lemonade.”

Snitch. “I wasn’t hungry.”

“You need to take a break from your work or you’re going to burn out.”

The sound that came out of your mouth was harsh and condescending. “I’m already a burnout, Wanda. I’ll be fine. Have fun at the diner.” You dodged the rest of her questions by slipping into your room and closing the door. As you hurried into a sweatshirt and old jeans, you heard the gang walk out of the house and leave you in silence. You checked to see if the apartment was empty before grabbing your things and locking up.

You planned on daydreaming the rest of the way back to the library, but the sound of a bicycle following you made your hair stand on end. When you turned to see who it was, you relaxed the grip on your pepper spray.

“Fucking hell, Parker,” you chastised as the teenager as he hopped off his bike and came up to walk beside you. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“You looked like you were going to shank me,” he laughed, falling into stride with you. Regardless of his own destination, Peter would always ditch his own path to walk with you, day or night. The night part was incredibly sweet and chivalrous. “Where are you going anyways?”

“Library,” you said curtly. You were tired of explaining yourself. “You?”

“Came back from MJ’s, I’m heading home.” Peter still lived on campus due to his scholarship, and frankly, you were a little envious. It would be amazing to live seven minutes from the library again.

“How is the new girlfriend?” The smile in your voice made Peter roll his eyes.

“MJ’s fine. She’s in abnormal psych and she hates it because it’s too basic for her.”

“Ugh, yeah I took that class. But it’s a prerec for—”

“Psychopathology,” you two said simultaneously. “She told me.”

“If she wants, she can have my old notes from the class.”

Peter quirked his brow. “You still have them?”

You shrugged. “I keep all my old notebooks.”

“Why?”

The question was simple, but you felt yourself pondering the answer for longer than you’d care to admit. Why did you keep all that old stuff? You never went back and studied any of it, so it was essentially junk. Yet you treasured it like a childhood keepsake.

“I don’t know,” you lied, completely aware that you felt exposed by Peter’s question and embarrassed by the real answer. “I thought they’d come in handy one day. Looks like I was right.”

Peter looked at you, and it struck you how similar the expression was to the one Bruce had given you earlier. When he’d asked you about passion and doing what you wanted.

He seemed to drop the topic, because when he opened his mouth again, he said, “I don’t think she needs it, considering how much she loves that kind of stuff, but thanks for offering.”

You only hum in acknowledgment, spending the rest of your walk together listening to the cars passing by and the soft clicks of Peter’s bike chains; sounds that had plagued you since sophomore year.

After this year, you’d never hear them again.

You bit your lip to keep from sighing. Peter would surely ask you what was wrong, but you couldn’t admit all this to him. He had way too much on his plate, between his honors scholarship, his biochemistry major and his job running the Photo Lab, it was a wonder he even spent time with you.

There was no way to tell Peter you missed him without spilling your guts, and you were too tired and too scared to say it. So instead you made a joke when you parted ways, and spent too much time in your head worrying about what you should’ve said.

And if you’d been paying attention instead, you wouldn’t have bumped into someone for the second time that day. This time the person had spilled all their books, a large stack of hardbacks that scattered in the doorway.

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” you said, not looking them in the eye. You crouched down to help them pick up their books, but when you placed The Essentials of Faulkner into someone’s hand, you looked up.

The blue eyes were soft on yours for a brief moment before recognition sparked in them. The man furrowed his brows before standing to his full height, which towered over you even when you stood too.

“You again,” he said, arrogance still pronounced. The English Major Prick.

Your blood pressure seemed to spike with anger. “Hey, I said I was sorry.”

“I’m mostly just shocked at my odds,” he said. “I must be the unluckiest person in this whole university to get knocked over by the same spaced-out girl twice.”

“One,” you glared, “I didn’t knock you over, my shit fell the first time. Second of all, you could also avoid me, ya know.”

“Oh, so this is my fault?”

“Hey,” a third party cut through your arguing. Someone walked around you two, flicking his middle finger at the both of you. “People have to fucking walk here.”

“Mind your business, asshole!” you whisper-yelled, and at the same time the English Major Prick said “Take a fucking hike, buddy!”

You were about to stare at him, but he was already disappearing into the pitch blackness. You shook off the encounter and headed back up to your regular post on the third floor.

Determined to actually get farther than before, you treaded through the floor stacks, searching up and down for the theory books you needed. One such book you found on your first stop, flipping through the index to find the pages you were looking for. A flash of blue caught your eye, and marked all over the page was the mysterious handwriting, like in the books from before.

“Huh,” you said, wondering what the odds were that you had checked out the exact same books as this person. It was unbelievable, and quite fantastical, if you were honest, but here it was; their handwriting in your hands once again.

“I wonder if I’ll find you, mystery person,” you lamented, before closing the book and carrying on.

                                           *            *            *            *

Weeks passed by in a similar haze: you would spend your days pretending to take notes while in reality you were highlighting sentences in articles, re-wording paragraphs and rearranging structures in your head. Mid-terms came and went, stringing you out even further. Time was unraveling at the seams, only stitching itself together when you needed to know what day it was or where to be.

Everyone around you seemed to be planning for something though; whether it was grad school or lining up jobs, or even something as simple as graduation, their eyes were on some far away prize while you could barely visualize waking up the next day.

Kyle noticed this. “You look awful,” he’d said, after he begged you to stay and talk after class. You rolled your eyes.

“Is that all you wanted?”

“No,” he said pointedly. “But it is concerning. You’ve been working on your paper?”

‘Working’ was both an understatement and a gross misuse. “I’ve been staring at the screen wondering why it doesn’t sound like I know it can.”

“That’s the dilemma of the author,” Kyle chuckled, but you were too numb to respond. “Tell you what. When you come in for your advising,”—he put emphasis on the word because he knew you hadn’t signed up for a time slot yet— “bring your essay and I’ll edit it. Sound fair?”

“You know it’s still a first draft,” you whined, mostly to hide the dread that bubbled in your throat.

“I know, and I expect it to be rough. But I know you’ve been working hard, so let me help you out. Please.” He added the extra please to sweeten the deal, and it had worked. Which is how you ended up outside of his office, contemplating which spot to take when something caught your eye.

It was blue ink, the m’s and n’s nothing but little scribbles, the capitol J hanging well below the line. It was familiar, so familiar that you fumbled around in your backpack for the research book you’d been carrying around with you, the one that held mystery persons notes.

You held up the defaced text, looking between the scrawl on the page and the name written on the line. It was exact match down to the ink, and you gasped in elation.

“I found you,” you whispered, making a squeal of delight. “I actually found you, James Buchanan.” You squinted, reading the name in the slot. Your excitement died down as you tapped your finger to your lips.

The name didn’t ring any bells. You didn’t expect that you would know the mystery writer, but the fact was, you shared an advisor. You pressed your fingers to the name as if it would disappear before your eyes.

“You complicate things,” you told it, as if somehow, they could hear you, feel you. Maybe they could.

“I’m no shrink, but talking to pieces of paper is definitely on the spectrum of insanity.”

His voice couldn’t scare you, even if it was so sudden. An office door closed, and Thor looked at you in amusement. He looked better than you last remembered, considering you hadn’t seen him since he had told his father—the college professor—he was dropping out.

“What are you doing here?” you straightened up, facing him with a beaming smile. He mirrored the expression.

“Talking to dear old dad about some things,” he took a few steps way from what you presumed was his father’s office. “Checking in on Loki.”

“How is the snake these days? Haven’t heard from him since you left.”

“I suppose there really is no reason for Loki to speak to any of you anymore.” Thor side eyed you. “Not that he shouldn’t.”

Thor’s departure had been a curveball in your sitcom-esque life up until that point. He was the connective tissue in your helter-skelter friend group; smart, compassionate and charming, he’d taken all of you out of your fussy shells and made you relax in ways you didn’t even realize you needed to.

And then, just like that, he was written out, and in his absence the void grew and grew until you didn’t feel like friends with anyone anymore.

It hadn’t been Thor’s fault. He’d done it for himself, and you were proud of him. You just wished it didn’t make things so goddamn complicated. So different.

You couldn’t dump that on Thor. “Yeah, well, he’s probably busy freaking out over the LSAT to even remember we exist.”

“God, it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!” Thor laughed. “I have all these videos of him cramming and falling asleep on the dinner table. I once picked him up and put him back in bed and Hela filmed the whole thing.”

“Shut up,” you said, a maniacal grin forming on your face. “Odinson, don’t lie to me.”

He wasn’t lying. The two of you laughed loudly in the hallways as you watched Thor lift Loki like he was a little girl into his arms and proceed to walk through their house, Hela snickering behind them. You were bracing yourself against a wall trying not to howl, while Thor held no such qualms about letting his booming laughter fill the silence.

It registered somewhere between your fourth gasp for air and Thor’s winding down laughter that someone had opened a door. And then, in a low, pointed voice they said, “Hey, people are trying to study in this lounge.”

You tried to hold back your laughter, but Thor’s insistent giggling kept a smile on your face. “Sorry,” you said behind your hand. “We didn’t realize—”

The smile slipped off your face when you looked up, seeing the angry pout of the English Major Prick staring back at you. His eyes glanced between you and Thor, leaned cozily up against a wall and laughing at something private. Embarrassment coiled in your stomach.

“Didn’t realize the lounge was right there. Sorry.” You averted your eyes. Thor had stopped laughing at this point, turning to you with an expectant look. You nodded and waved goodbye, noting the look he gave the English Major Prick as he walked past him.

And then he turned his accusatory stare back to you. “Was that Thor Odinson?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought he dropped out.”

“So what if he did?”

“What’s he doing hanging around the English department?”  

You crossed your arms. “His father is a professor here, smartass.”

“Oh.” All his malice seeped out as his shoulders deflated. The two of you stood awkwardly facing one another. It had been a long time since you’d bumped into him that day (twice), but you’d started to see his face everywhere. Out of the corner of your eye in the stairwell or sitting on a table in the school café you’d catch brunette hair and distant, sad eyes.

They were never that way when he looked at you. It was probably the anger.

“Read any Faulkner, lately?”

You wanted to fucking die. It was lame as hell, but he didn’t seem like he was leaving anytime soon and you just had to break this tense air.

“What?”

“Every time I see you, you’re reading Faulkner.”

He looked away for a moment and you banged your head against the wall when. You muttered stupidstupidstupid to yourself while he chuckled.

“You’re paying too much attention to me, mystery girl.”

The nickname made you perk up you head. “Mystery girl?”

It was his turn to look embarrassed. “Uh, yeah,” he stammered. “That’s what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

He seemed to realize what he’d said too late. You sucked in a breath to calm down the nerves that felt like they were frying all over your body. “You think about me, huh?” It didn’t sound cheeky like you wanted it to—it sounded almost hopeful.

“You left quite an impression on me. Literally, my shoulder is bruised.”

You hummed. “Better than what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“Oh, you really don’t want to know, buddy.”

He was out of the lounge now, leaning on the door frame and fully facing you. “But I really, really do.”

You smiled down at the ground, partly because you were about call this boy a prick to his face, but also because he was smiling at you for once, and he looked rather sweet when he curled his hair behind his ears.

“English Major Prick.” His eyebrows shot into his hair and you had to put your hand over your mouth to stop laughing. “I told you you didn’t want to know.”

“No, no, it’s—” he scuffed his shoes against the ground. They were well shined oxfords with scuff marks on the very tips. “I deserve that.”

“So, we finally agree on something.”

The bashful smile he gave was infectious. “Well, I’d prefer you not refer to me as that.”

“Who says I’ll be referring to you at all?”

“Well, you do think about me.”

It shouldn’t have affected you as much as it did, considering you knew he did the same. And yet your reaction was textbook flustered. “I mean—”

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“My name,” he continued. “It’s Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”

Oh shit. Oh no. “You’re Steve’s friend?” It came out as a question because you were suddenly terrified. You had been off-handedly telling Steve about this guy for the better part of the semester and now you knew he was his best friend but you were also—no, you were not falling for this guy you barely knew.

But you did feel something in this stupid little interaction. Especially when you saw a new expression on his face—surprise.

“You know Stevie?” Stevie. Cute.

“Yeah, he’s—I, huh.” You took a minute to gather your thoughts. He was patient about it. “I modeled for him? You know, for his senior exhibition.”

Something crossed his face before he said, “Oh,” in a tone that was supposed to be surprise, but sounded like something else. “You’re the girl he’s painting.”

God, this could not be any more complicated. “Yeah, I am.”

The conversation came to a full stop, and from behind Bucky a familiar bearded face popped out, looking for him. “Hey, Barnes, don’t leave me hang—” Quentin Beck’s entire face went pale when he saw you, muttering out a “sorry,” before disappearing into the lounge.

Bucky whirled around, and you didn’t expect the wide eyes he gave you. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Get Quentin to shut up?”

You snorted and he shushed you, but it was no use. The two of you broke into suspicious giggles, trying desperately to be quiet.

“It’s a long story. One you don’t have time for. Quentin will set this building on fire if you don’t pay attention to him.”

Bucky bounced his shoulders against the wall. “You’re probably right.”

You stood there dumbly for a moment, not meeting one another’s gazes until Bucky cleared his throat.

“I guess, um, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” You turned around on your heels so you wouldn’t have to see him anymore, but also to hide the stupid, childish grin you got from thinking about bumping into him again.

                                          *            *            *            *

You found yourself thinking about Bucky Barnes at the most inopportune, and rather inappropriate times.

You were never going to make a move on him; he was smart and well rounded and Steve’s best friend, three things that intimidated you into only confessing your feelings in drawn out day dreams. In your head he would always say yes, but there were many other discrepancies between your head and real life.

For example, in your head your essay was a masterpiece, but on paper you weren’t so sure.

A strange assembly of people sat around your table to read your magnum opus: Nat, Bruce, Wanda, MJ and Pete all flipped through the copies of your first fifteen pages, highlighting and scratching in notes. You had decided to stay with them and answer any initial questions, but it got very quiet very quickly as they became absorbed with your writing.

To keep from bursting with anxiety, you’d let your mind drift, thinking of the earlier days when this might have been a dinner party, or maybe even one of Tony’s house parties. And then you remembered that Steve had been to those too, but on the peripheral of everyone else. And if Bucky was his best friend, he must have been on the fringe as well. What it would have been like if you’d known him then…

Their insistent chittering interrupted your daydream, so you engaged them by saying “Something you want to share with the class? Peter, MJ?”

Peter shrank back at your raised eyebrows while MJ’s bored look persisted. “I was just telling him that I think your topic has been done before.”

You instantly remembered why the younger girl intimidated you so much. MJ seemed to read your face, because she continued: “I like your take on it though. You break it down in new ways, but you don’t dumb it down for your readers.”

“Okay, okay,” you repeated. There was nothing you could do with praise except keep your paper the way it was, but that wouldn’t help you write the remaining pages. “Everyone else? Thoughts?”

Nat kept scribbling down something in the margins while she spoke, never looking at you. “Your argument is well thought out, and your choice of movies reflects it really well.” She added one last embellishment before smiling up at you; small and genuine, but gone in a flash. “I might even add in one more film if you can.”

You breathed out to keep your elation under control. Had you seriously pulled this off? And so far away from the deadline? “You think so? Like the theory doesn’t feel like an afterthought?”

“Not at all. It feels like you’ve developed it pretty well. It’s solid.” Bruce complimented. His smile was warm and there was a twinkle in his eyes when he slid your paper back to you. “It’s a pretty good paper.”

The elation disappeared, replaced with a cold rush of fear. “Is that all? It’s just good?”

Your panic must have been alarming, because everyone tripped over themselves to console you.

“I like the part where you call the films low-key racist.”

“Thanks, MJ.”

“Yeah, you picked some good movies. You should use Jurassic Park.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a monster movie,” Peter explained this like you were stupid, and hadn’t just write fifteen pages on the ethics of monster movies.

“It doesn’t, it’s not—”

“It doesn’t work. No one wanted to fuck the T-Rex, Peter.”

“Can we focus on my theory and NOT on fucking T-Rex’s?”

Wanda came to your rescue. “Y/N, the theory is sound. It’s a well-constructed paper, with very minor issues—”

You wanted to tear out your hair. “What issues? You guys haven’t said anything!”

“Hey, hey,” Bruce came out of his seat and walked around you, placing his hands on your shoulders. Your short breaths became a sigh as you let him soothingly rub out the tension. You hadn’t been this close to Bruce in a long time, not since you two broke up sophomore year. But he could still read your anxiety like a book.

“Calm down. We know this paper is important to you.”

“I won’t graduate without it.”

“But you did a great job.” The occupants of the room smiled at you, and they felt honest. “You picked us to read it because we wouldn’t lie to you, right?”

You nodded. Bruce really did know you well.

“This is a great paper. Your teacher will love it.”

Bruce had never lied to you, but it didn’t mean he was infallible.

Kyle had a strange look on his face while he read your paper. A couple of times you’d broken away from your daydreams (usually about Bucky—you really did think about him in your worst times) and caught him whispering questions to himself or underlining furiously. You caught words being written in bold red ink and your heart dropped out of your stomach.

“Y/N this is,” he started, but was unable to finish. “It’s rough.”

“It’s my second draft, Kyle.”

“I know,” he was trying to use a calmer voice, but he was strained. “But it’s very early, and if you go back and fix some things, I think it’ll make more sense.”

“It doesn’t even make sense?!”

“Hey.” His tone was firm against your hysterical whine. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

His hands were laced across his desk as he looked to you pointedly. Your words died in your throat. There wasn’t anything you could tell him, there was no reason your draft was shitty. It was all you, all in your head, everywhere except on the page where it needed to be.

When you didn’t answer Kyle sighed. “You know you’re one of my favorite students, right?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“No, it does matter.” He was offended, you could hear it. Offended, concerned, and angry.

“You’ve never gotten higher than an A- on your papers. Not in my class. But you’re extremely smart and I know you can read my comments, so I’m just wondering why you think it’s okay to waste my time—and your hard work—not changing your essays when I tell you to.”

You felt like a scolded child. Tears pricked in your eyes, but you held it together. Just not enough to speak.

“Everything is here, but it feels like you’re holding back. Like you can’t see the bigger picture, and that’s not like you. So, I’m asking you, right now, why you’re afraid to put everything in this essay.”

“I—” your voice was thick with emotion. He knew you were on the brink of collapsing, and he sat back, defeated.

“This paper isn’t the same as all the others. You can’t get an A- and go. As you go farther in academia things change, and you have to step it up. You’re a senior, Y/N.”

“What if I don’t want to be?”

You weren’t sure how that thought slipped out of your mouth, but Kyle sat up when it registered to him what you’d said.

“That’s just how it is. Are you…are you scared of that?”

Your heart rattled in your chest. The obviousness of his accusation hit you like a freight train, and Kyle could tell he was right.

“Y/N,” he started, but you stood abruptly, snatching the paper off his desk. “Y/N, wait.”

“I’m sorry, professor, Kyle, I just—” you left it at that before bolting, shooting down the stairs and storming out of the building. The tears came dripping down your face and you crumpled, breathing heavily like you’d never had air before.

It was utterly humiliating. Passerbys would look at you and remark in hushed tones, avoiding you like the plague. You wanted to scream about how normal this breakdown was, but it didn’t feel normal.

He’d seen through you like glass and shattered you twice as easily. Everything was raining down too fast, and there was no way to stop it.

You were shaking so hard that when a hand came to rest on your shoulder you hardly felt it. “Whoa, Y/N?” came Peter’s warm, boyish voice. “Hey, hey what happened?”

He slid next you, curling his arm around your back and forcing you to lean on him. You did so with very little protest. His heart beat was steady as he coddled you, and through bleary eyes you could see Ned Leeds squatting to look you in the eye.

“Hey, do you want to talk about it?” His voice was so soft, like he was talking to a baby. The thought made you laugh.

“I’ll be fine in a minute. I’ll just, bounce back up and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

“You don’t have to pretend, Y/N.”

“Yes, I do Peter,” you sighed, feeling another round of tears prick at your red rubbed eyes. “I have to, or else everything will come fucking crashing down—”

“Hasn’t it already?”

The statement pierced through your sobs like an arrow and you glared at Peter. Even through watery eyes you managed to take him aback.

“I’m not going to sit here and have you fucking patronize me, Parker!”

“Fine then, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

Peter didn’t exactly smile, but his mischievous look was enough to ground you. “Somewhere the entire campus can’t see you have a breakdown.”

                                          *            *            *            *

Now that winter was approaching, the sunsets crept up earlier and earlier until by 7 pm the sun was already set, and twilight brought out the first twinkle of stars. Peter led the way up the scaffolding stairs to the sloped roof of the creative sciences building, despite having the afterhours key.

“I wanted the nostalgia of sneaking up here,” he told you, tossing his backpack over the highest point of the building and hauling himself up. The two of you helped Ned and the walked over to the best vantage point on the entire campus.

This far from the city, and with the lights out in most of the buildings you could see the stars wink into existence. It felt like lifetimes had past since you were last up here—it was Thor and Valkyrie who’d imparted this knowledge on you and you’d kept it confined within your friend group ever since.

The three of you laid down, backpacks under your heads like pillows. The only sounds were of the wind in your ears or the cars down below. You breathed deep to clear your lungs, and you hiccupped out your last sob.

“My professor says I’m afraid of change.”

There was a shift on either side of you as Peter and Ned simultaneously sat up and stared.

“He said that?” Ned asked incredulously. “Like, to your face?”    

“No; he kind of asked me, I guess? I don’t know. He fucking read me.”

“Are you scared?”

Peter’s voice was as uncertain as you felt. No, that was a lie—you’d know this for quite some time now. You closed your eyes, letting it all wash over you.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“You mean crying over a paper that’s worth all of your grade and contemplating jumping off a roof?”

You laughed outwardly and loudly at Ned’s response. “No. Well, Maybe.”

“Elaborate.”

“I want to always be in college. It’s been the most stressful, chaotic, stupid crazy time of my life and I just,” you opened your eyes to face the truth. “I don’t want to give it up. I don’t want to leave all of you, some of us scattered in the wind, the rest of you left behind. I want us to stay like this forever: sitting on the roof and counting the stars and pointing out constellations we don’t even know the name of. Laughing in the diner until midnight and screaming on the streets every time we jaywalk. Drunken house parties, movie marathons. This era, forever.”

There was a moment of silence after your confession, and you dragged your hand down your face. “Sorry, that was—”

“That was sooo poetic,” Ned told you, reveling in your embarrassment. “How long have you been holding that in?”

“Y/N,” Peter said seriously. “You can’t just fail your classes and bomb your senior thesis and stay in college forever.”

“That wasn’t the plan.”

“You sure? Because it’s all going according to plan.”

“Peter, what if I’m not ready to leave?” You sat up to face him. “I’ve been going to school my entire life, and now I’m just supposed to walk out and be an adult? I never thought I’d even make it past the age of sixteen, let alone do all this! What if I can’t do it?”

“You think any of your friends are ready? You think Bruce, or Wanda or Steve are just, full fledged adults, ready to take on the world?”

They hadn’t even occurred to you. The mention of them felt like a slap in the face.

“God, for someone so smart, you’re really stupid. None of us are ready for whatever the hell is out there. We never were!” His voice had that pain in it, the one that shouldn’t belong to someone so young. “We all wish it could be crazy fun teen shit all the time, but we have to move forward. And we have to do it together, so we don’t leave each other behind. That means you have to move on.”

“Damn,” you let his words sink in. “When did you get so wise?”

“Sophomore year,” he said precisely. “When I had a mental breakdown over chem class and you told me the exact same thing.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You told me that the crying and the failing happened to everyone, but that I couldn’t dwell on it and stay stagnant. I had to be the best version of my myself, and that included moving forward from my mistakes.”

You remembered that moment. Peter had been curled up against the wall of his tiny, dirty dorm room and you, Bruce and Tony had coaxed him out with the promise of ice cream and you knew for the first time in your life that you always wanted those boys in your life. You smiled at Peter.

“Sneaky trick, Parker.”

“I learned from the best.”

Your phone buzzed against the roof and you picked it up before it rattled off the edge. Wanda had called three times, and she was calling again.

“Hello?”

“Where are you? Peter said you were crying?”

You shot a look over at the brunette and he played dumb. “Yeah, I was.”

“Well I was worried about you! You usually come home and change by now, or at least tell me you’ll be late but…” her voice morphed into concern. “What happened?”

You didn’t want to be at home right now. In fact, you didn’t want this night to be like all the others—with you laying in bed until your mind finally shut down. You turned to Peter and Ned and mouthed a question, to which they nodded vigorously.

“Hey Wanda, I was thinking we could get some food and catch up. Say, 11th Street Diner?”

She grappled for words before giving a snort of disbelief. “You’re a heart attack, you know that?”

“Meet me at 8.”

                                          *            *            *            *

Wanda had brought everyone—and by everyone you meant her usual motley crew of Clint Barton, Nat, her boyfriend and her brother. They were all wreaking havoc in different sections of the diner: Pietro, Peter and Ned were outside filming skateboarding tricks while Vision was taking his sweet time picking something at the jukebox. Nat and Clint had taken seats at the bar to get their food faster, leaving you and Wanda sipping your shared milkshake. Strawberry, like you both liked.

“Wanna hear a secret?”

“Tell me.”

You two used to do this when you realized you hadn’t talked in a while. You’d tell her something no one else knew, because she was both your roommate and the best at keeping secrets. So, you leaned over and whispered into her ear about the time you gave Quentin Beck a hand job in the corner booth of this very diner, and she sucked down her drink to keep from screaming with laughter. Or possibly disgust.

“How long have you been keeping that in?” Pink liquid still escaped her mouth and you handed her a napkin.

“Since we dated.”

“Do you regret it?”          

“While I never want to do it again, no, I don’t.”

“It’s breaking the rules, but can I ask for another secret?”

You tilted your head. “‘Fraid I’m all out.”

“Not quite,” she said coyly. “What happened, when Peter said you were crying?”

You watched the ice in your drink while you swirled your straw and monotonously recounted the events of your disastrous advising meeting and the roof with Peter and Ned. Wanda’s face fell into its usual pensiveness.

“Is he right?” The question was leading, but you fell for it regardless.

“Yup. Peter and I have established that my subconscious is sabotaging my paper.”

“I always knew you’d be your own worst enemy.” She wasn’t not smug when she said it, but the sip of her milkshake is. You snatched the glass yourself and she pouted.

“You’re right, I just hate hearing people say it.”

“Well, it’s because you’re always in that big brain of yours.” She prodded her finger on your forehead, like fuckin E.T. “And your overly romantic heart.”

“God, you’re like the fourth person whose told me that.” You counted them on your fingers. “You, Bruce, Q, and Steve. That’s entirely too many.”

“Five,” Nat interrupted, walking up to your table with Clint in tow. “I’m saying it now. Also, Bucky Barnes has been staring at you for ten minutes.”

A shot of adrenaline went through your heart. “Bucky Barnes? Where?”

“He’s at the bar, alone, so I suggest you do something about it.”

Wanda looked at you expectantly, then leaned out of the booth to get a look at him. You hissed at her to stop, but her mouth curved into a satisfied grin.

“Well, he sure is handsome. I wouldn’t mind if you ditched us for him, but you’ll have to tell me the details of this later. After you properly explain the Quentin hand job thing.”

“The what now?” Nat’s stoic face broke into one of pure shock, so you found it a good a time as any to escape the tension and enter…new tension.

Bucky turned his head to act like he wasn’t overtly staring at you, but you’d caught the sight of his eyes going wide. You sat on the stool next to him and waved off the server before leaning over the counter.

“You know I can see you even though you aren’t looking at me, right?”

He seemed to be ready for the confrontation now, because when he swiveled around there was confidence painted on his face. He opened his mouth but you stopped him in his tracks.

“Actually, before you say anything, do you want to get out of here? We have an audience.”

He looked behind you to see three sets of eyes peering over the booth you’d just left. He huffed before placing exact change next to his plate and standing up. You followed suit, snatching a few fries off his plate and flipping off your friends.

When you two stood on the curb of the diner, he confessed, “I walked here, so, there’s really nowhere for us to go.”

“Oh.” You realized it was the same for you, but you tried to hide your disappointment with a smile. “That’s okay. We can walk.”

So, you did. When you told him you’d go anywhere but the library, he seemed surprised. “You like, live there.”

“So it would seem. I’m just not really in the mood to do any work tonight.”

“Oh, so it’s one of those days.” He said it so knowingly, and you realize that he is also an English major, and a senior.

“Yeah, I’ve been working on my senior thesis.”

“No shit,” he said, but without the condescension. In fact, he’d been perfectly civil. “Same here.”

He talked about how he was taking Southern Literature because it was dark and surprising. His paper was on the Southern Gothic, and how that idea had moved on to other aspects of modern American ideology. Bucky moved his hands when he talked, his broad shoulders going up and down. He was wearing a blue bomber jacket that you liked because it caught the light from the street lamps nicely.

“What’s yours on?”

“Oh,” you came out of your thoughts abruptly, unsure of what he’d said. “Well, I specifically study film—”

“That makes sense.” He blurted out, and you creased your brows.

“What do you mean?”

He hissed out something to himself. “Nothing, it’s just when you’re on third floor sometimes I see you watching the weirdest shit and I wonder ‘why is she doing that in the library?’”

It took a minute for you to fully understand the implication. “You’ve seen me around?”

He rolls his head with a laugh. “You’re hard to miss.”

This was news to you. You’d flown under the radar for quite some time, never having joined any clubs or sports people could recognize you from. You’d gotten a few compliments on your outfits in the past four years, but nothing you thought could make you known.

He was very good at making your stomach turn into a mosh pit of butterflies. You felt not exactly vulnerable, but strangely delicate around him. Like you were floating on air.

So, to quell that feeling, you replied. “I’d beg to differ.”

“I’ve seen you around the library since, what, sophomore year? You’re always on third floor, you walk in like you own the goddamn place.” He smiled down at the ground when he talks about you. It was the cutest thing in the world to watch him curl his hair behind his ear and smile at you sideways.

“You never noticed me.”

It was true, you hadn’t. “I try to pick through my memories and find you. I feel like I’m retroactively learning about you.”

“Thinking hard?” It’s an accusation you’re okay with, because he was bashful, not arrogant when he said it.

“Maybe.”

You swayed when you walked beside him, thinking you could listen to his stories for hours. At times you felt like you were boring him, because the stories of Austria and internships were large compared to your freshman dorm party memories, but he laughed like he’s never been more entertained in his life.

“I wish I’d talked to you earlier. Gotten your name from your lips before anyone else had said it to me.”

Your eyes widened. “I never told you my name?”

He shook his head, and the hair came out from behind his ears. “No. that day I told you mine, was it the first time you’d heard it?”

“Maybe. I think Steve just calls you ‘Buck’.”

“Steve talked about you first. And then when I became friends with all his adjacent buddies, they talked about you too. And then, of course, when I went back to Quentin that day, he told me.”

“God,” you groaned. “What did he say about me?”

“That you’re smart and crazy and kind. He would say your name like it was cursed and enchanted all at once.”

“And my friends call me romantic,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ve been branded that too. But I don’t mind it so much. There’s worse things to be.”

“Like what?”

“Like an English Major Prick.” He emphasized that last consonant and you hid you face in your hands.

“You won’t let me live that one down, huh?”

“Maybe. If I like the way you say my name, I might consider it.”

There was a split second where you realized how fragile the moment was; one wrong step and it was broken on the floor like humpty dumpty. You thought of your professor pegging your fear of change. Peter’s words echoed in your brain and you felt like you were jumping off the roof when you said:

“Bucky Barnes, you smooth son of a bitch.”

He smiled, brighter than the moon. All at once, everything that was ever certain was shattered, but you leaped over it and left it behind.

                                           *            *            *            *

Steve called you in one last time about two weeks before the showcase. You were scribbling over the words written by the mystery writer (James, you affectionately called him) while Steve wiped sweat from his brow. And incidentally, paint in his hair.

Tapping your leg to the beat of whatever pretentious song, you were too engrossed in your ‘work’ to hear Steve say “You look happy.”

“What?” you screamed over the music.

He turned it off and sat next to you with a smug look you disliked. You pushed his face away and he only laughed, that big almost fake sound you knew was real.

“Seriously, you’re so empathic that whatever your feel, I feel. And today’s goin’ great.” He gestured to the painting that was supposed to be you, but all you saw were swirls of paint. You took this to mean things were going well.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I had a rough week last week, but things are getting better.”

“Did you talk to your advisor again?”

“Yeah.” Kyle had spent the better part of an hour picking apart your thesis in ways you couldn’t have even imagined. By the end of it you’d had at least three pages worth of new material, but still a hell of a way to go. “Kyle and I worked it out.”

“That’s good. You know my advisor’s freaking out about my work? He thinks it’s too complex.”

“It’s just faces.” It sounded dumb to say, but that was the way you saw it.

Steve picked up your chin. His fingers were wet and cold with paint. “You’re not just a face, Y/N.”

“Ah!” you screamed as lilac rubs off on you. “Let me go, paint monster!”

You dropped your book into his lap as you ran around looking for the sink. Steve’s laughter subsided as he looked down, puzzled at the writing that swirled around the pages of the library book.

“Hey, Y/N?” he called out, but you’re preoccupied with wiping paint off your neck. “Y/N?”

“What?”

“Where’d you get this?”

“The library, doesn’t it say that on the spine?”

“But this hand writing,” His voice tapered off.

You exchanged the book for the rag and assessed James’ words. “I’ve been curious about it too. It was in like, all the books I checked out, isn’t that wild? And—get this—it belongs to some guy named James Buchanan, and we have the same advisor. Isn’t that crazy?”

Steve looked like he was trying to say something, but he eyes turned towards the door as someone knocked twice.

“Yo, punk? You in here?” Bucky’s voice carried into the room. When he walked in, he immediately paused, taking stock of the two of you staring at him.

“Oh,” his voice wavered and a nervous smile appeared. “Hey.”

Steve’s eyes cut to yours, and you feel immense pressure. “Hi, Bucky.”

“Hey, Buck.” Steve’s voice is a bullet, and Bucky turned to him, automatically annoyed. “Y/N has this book I think you’ve read.”

“Oh, which one?” He crossed the room in easy strides, and you were helpless in the situation you thought Steve was orchestrating. When you handed it to him his eyes lit up in recognition as he flipped through it.

“Holy shit, I really wrecked this one, huh? Good thing the university really doesn’t give a shit.”

You were having trouble processing what he’s said. Steve had gotten up wordlessly, but there was a particularly blank look on his face as he avoided your eyes. You turned back to Bucky, who was fondly reading over James’ words.

“Though Scott himself does not adhere to Weaver’s interpretation, the fact still remains that the tension between the Alien and Ripley,” he trailed off with a stunned look. “I was a regular old critic, huh?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull. “You wrote that?”

He was startled at the way you raised your voice, and answered cautiously. “Yeah, like, years ago. For a film class I took.”

You reeled back at the information. You fought the urge to open your backpack and ask him if he’d written in all the other books, but that couldn’t—how could he be—

“I checked out, like, seven books from the library this semester and they all have the same handwriting in them. And then, I found out that it matched to a guy named James Buchanan—”

“Barnes,” He finished.

“What? No. That’s not what I saw.”

“That’s my name. James Buchanan Barnes.”  

You sat there dumbly, your eyes narrowed in thought. There was no fucking way that he’d written in all these film books. In every single one you’d painstakingly read with romantic ideals and dreaming of who it’d belong to and how you’d meet. The fantasies were crumbling around you, leaving you in the dust.

Bucky’s face was earnest though. Steve was silent behind both of you, painting away like your worlds weren’t colliding.

“You. Okay,” you restarted. “If your name is Bucky,”

“Doll, it’s a nickname—”

“Let me finish.” You ignored the ‘doll’ part and tried to Sherlock your way through this. “If everyone you know calls you Bucky Barnes, why did you write ‘James Buchanan” on Kyle’s sign-up sheet?”

Bucky settled into the stool Steve had been sitting on. “It’s a joke between the two of us. He thinks it’s funny, so I humor him when I can.”

“Okay but, the books are companion pieces for films, I thought you were an English lit major?”

“I am, but I took Intro Film sophomore year.”

“What? With who.”

“Kyle.”

You thought back to two years ago, when you’d been new to the world of film, and you’d met Kyle for the first time. You’d aced that class with flying colors, quickly becoming one of his star students. Coincidentally, so was Quentin Beck, a cock sure boy who got into arguments over any little thing with you. The two of you were the most outspoken in the class, and you never paid much mind to anyone that wasn’t him. But there had been other people that would wait after class for a moment with the professor, and it was in those memories that you recalled him.

Brunette hair, but far shorter. Crystal blue eyes and impeccable clothes. Bucky.

“That…you were in that class? But I never—”

“You never noticed me.” His voice was resigned and so was his smile. He’d told you this before, that he’d seen you around before, but you never imagined he’d known you since sophomore year. “I remembered you from all the way back then: you had long, shiny, impeccable hair and this glint in your eye whenever you talked. Which was a lot. You could dazzle the class just by breathing. And I sat rows and rows behind you, and never spoke. There was no reason you would have ever seen me.”

There was a wavering sadness in his voice, and for a moment, Bucky looked exactly as he did in Steve’s portrait: haunted by the past, unable to fix it.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I just now figuring out that you’re the boy of my dreams?”

There was music playing in the background that hadn’t been there before; a cozy, soft melody by one of Steve’s favorite artists. It matched Bucky’s breathlessness as he gazed at you with a tilted head and eyes full of hope. A far cry from just seconds before.

“What did you say?”

“I’ve been thinking about this mysterious ‘James Buchanan’ who’s written exactly what I think, and has seen all the same movies as me. And I’ve been wondering what he’s like, or if he’s nice, of if he’d ever even like me if I met him.”

A coy smile stretched across his face. “Well, what is he like?”

“He’s,” you blanked for a moment, trying to tone down all the wildly romantic thoughts you’ve been having ever since you’d met Bucky Barnes. You decided to risk it all and tell him the truth.

“He’s very smart; he reads Faulkner but think Hurston has more heart. He dresses like he already has his PhD but it looks good on him. He’s sweet but extremely romantic, which is okay because I could listen to him talk for hours. He’s a bit of a prick, though.”

He hung his head back when he laughed at the last part, and you felt your heart swell tremendously. He wasn’t mocking you. He was agreeing with you. You knew this to be true.

“Well, do you think he does like you?” Bucky suddenly became serious. He was nervous.

“I don’t know, does he?”

“Can you two just fucking kiss already?”

Bucky threw something at Steve, but you couldn’t tell what. In the moment he threw it you were laughing, but once it’s over his hand slid onto your face and pulled you into a kiss. Your eyes closed when you felt it, and he tilted his head to keep you occupied. Otherwise you would have heard Steve triumphantly yell “yes!” behind you two.

Bucky rested his forehead against yours. His blue, blue eyes were so much lovelier this close. He whispered, “I think he does.”

You kissed him quick, once, then twice, then sighed contentedly. “Good. I like him too.”

“Well I for one am happy for them.”

This time you see a wet paintbrush beam for Steve’s eye. “Less talking, more painting, punk!”

                                          *            *            *            *

Bucky is lost in thought when the door to Kyle’s office opened. There was a low chatter between two people and he looked up to see Kyle propped up in the door was as you spoke to him. You were dressed up nicely in a tweed coat that matched his own.

Kyle’s eyes rested on the chair Bucky sat in and he perked up in recognition. “Oh, James,” he said, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, were you waiting for me?”

“No, not you.” He stood up and brushed out the wrinkles in his shirt before coming to your side. You gave him a quick smile before turning back to your professor, whose face was openly shocked.

“Oh,” he said in a dubious, but delighted voice. “So, this is happening.”  

“We’re going to the senior art exhibition to see our friend’s graduation project,” you explained, looking rather annoyed at the two men. “We’re both in one of his paintings.”

“Together?” he asked, a bit of scandal in his voice.

“No,” you droned, shutting it down. “Mind your business.”

“You’re both my advisees, this is my business.”

“Good night, Kyle,” you said pointedly, turning around and marching down the hall. Kyle sent a congratulatory wink at Bucky, who acknowledged it with a salute.

As he caught up with you, he handed back a thick essay, riddled with blue ink and yellow highlighter. You added it to another similar essay, one with exclamation points and significantly less marks.

“How’d he like it?” Bucky made conversation as you two trekked across campus. Winter made the nighttime seem even darker, but the two of you glowed underneath the street lamps.

“He loved it. Said it was infinitely better, and then apologized for the millionth time for making me cry.”

“What did he say about the part about Ripley and the Alien?”

You shot him that crazy grin, the one that looked unbelievably beautiful as you approached the traffic lights. Your face was highlighted in red and Bucky thought of the painting you two were about to witness.

“He didn’t say a thing. I should have cited you on that.”

“I’m not a published writer.”

“I know. But one day when you are, I can tell people I gave you your start.”

Bucky laughed, mostly to keep his heart from beating out of his ribcage. Crazy, crazy girl.

You two entered the exhibition hall and traded your backpacks for flutes of fake champagne. The room was lighted lowly, the works of art brandished with bright lights to show off their artistry. You two walked through still life paintings and abstract canvases, marveling some he understood and other’s that made him think.

“Art’s not my forte,” he confided. You hummed, taking a lofty sip.

“Mine either. But they’re gorgeous.”

You floated down the hall as if pulled by a string, and Bucky noticed what you were hung up on.

Steve’s paintings were hanging in a trapezoid shape, and when you walked closer, they seemed to engulf you in color. To your left was Sam and to your right was Bucky, but you stared dead ahead at yourself.

Bucky had seen the painting early, per Steve’s request. He’d helped him move them from his apartment, and had seen the three of you looking very somber and one another.

You were silent as you examined the pieces, and Bucky strode right up to your side.

“So, what do you think?” you started. “I know art isn’t your forte.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

You hummed, pointing to your right. “I like this one better.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you like about it?”

“His eyes; they’re so expressive. I remember being moved when I saw the reference picture. It’s haunting, but ethereal.”

This wasn’t poking fun now, you genuinely meant it. Bucky tilted his head.

“I was thinking about the future.”

“But you’re looking back.”

“Isn’t that ironic?” There was no humor in his voice. “I was thinking about how it could be the last time I ever modeled for Stevie, done everything at his beck and call, whatever the fuck he wanted. How it was my last year to do something impressive, something memorable. How I had,” he eyes looked to yours for a flash, but you caught his meaning. “Wishes. Regrets.”

Your hand snaked up his back and rested on his shoulder. The touch burned and comforted him all at once. “Do you still have them?”

“Some of them. Not all of them.” He gave you a smile and a quick kiss. Not you.

“Good. That’d be a shame. These three deserve to be happy.”

“They look so beautiful when they’re upset, though.”

“Don’t they?” you sighed and laid your head on his shoulder. “They should hang them in The Louvre.”    

“They’d shove me in the back.”

Steve’s voice echoed from your left, and Sam strolled up with him. He stared at his own giant face, all mellowed out with blues and pinks.

“This face deserves to be in every museum. Front and center.”

“God, I did not miss the sound of your voice,” Bucky groaned.

“And I didn’t miss your sour attitude Barnes, and yet here we are. Y/N, remind me again why you’re with this loser?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. He’s had a crush on me for a looong time,” you drawled, lacing your hands together when Bucky rolled his eyes. “Decided to give him a shot.”

“I’m glad you did. Now he can finally stop talking about you with that look one his face.”

“What look? You mean that one?” Sam pointed to the portrait.

“That same exact one.”

“I’m leaving.” Bucky marched back the way he came, with you, Sam and Steve laughing at his heels. He tried to turn away and hide his smile, but everything was falling into place very nicely. All those wishes and regrets withered when he walked back to the entrance and found all their friends gathered loosely on the street.

Bucky had never been part of a friend group so large, but they cheered at his arrival. You greeted everyone in different ways; shoving Peter light heartedly, hugging Bruce and telling Tony to fuck off. They walked as a pack down the street to the 11th street diner, stupid, young and infallible as they all jaywalked, hollering like they were committing murder and not a minor traffic offence. In the hilarious chaos your hand found Bucky’s and you ran like hell, racing Pietro though you two knew you would lose. He kissed the back of your hand. Tony gagged.  

He wished they could always be like this.

[christinaengela]

Hello friends and fans!

Welcome to my 34th newsletter – and this time, I think you’ll notice right away that there’s something different about it!

In Brief:

October already? Wow! One of these days it’ll be December and Saturnalia again! 😉 Oktoberfest is on its way – and of course, our favorite festival of the year: Halloween!

In last month’s newsletter I said that this has been one of the busiest, most productive years in writing I’ve had in a long time, and it’s only right that I emphasize that!

That said, this edition of my newsletter also has to be the most intensively updated and detailed one yet! It even has a gorgeous new header image – and lots of extra information!

Let’s carry on, starting with some of the technical background stuff related to my writing!

Discontinuation of the .net website

As I told you last month, the .net website has been discontinued as of mid-September, so please don’t use the christinaengela.net url/link as the redirect to christinaengela.com isn’t expected to work much longer!

I opened the .net site in September 2018 as an experiment, and set up an array of onboard selling tools – but although I finally had just three direct sales from that website during the past year (amounting to a whopping $6 in all that time!) the cost of renewing the service just didn’t justify the expense. I have no intention of renewing the .com domain either when it expires in 2020, since the cost of that via WordPress would be actually three times the renewal cost of the .net through GoDaddy! I will nevertheless do my best to keep all my url mentions updated – hence this reminder!

Updates On Lulu AND Amazon

As you probably are aware, one of the two main service providers I publish through is Lulu.com (the other I use is Smashwords). While both have their fans and their pro’s and cons, Lulu is the only one of the two that distributes to Amazon straight-off – Smashwords wants you to sell a truck-load of a title via their own site, or Apple, or Kobo before they will even consider forwarding it to Amazon! Also, as I mentioned in last month’s newsletter, I’d updated quite a few titles incrementally on Lulu over the past few years, and noticed that inspite of everything I did, Amazon was still displaying some quite old versions of my books that were no longer available, and not updating to the newest versions!

Upon investigation, I complained to Lulu’s help department, and they clarified: it turns out that while I may have updated a project file on a particular book, those changes didn’t reach Amazon. I’m still not sure if this means the process of “revision” on Lulu is automatic and it didn’t work properly in this case, or if the process is not automatic and I’m supposed to notify them to send updated files to Amazon after making changes – they simply didn’t clarify that part – but in the meantime I found a workaround of my own! By that I mean that I undertook the gargantuan task of republishing my books on Lulu not once – but TWICE in the space of a single week!

Let it not be said that I don’t put enough effort into my books! Whew!

The process involved taking down basically ALL my books that are on Lulu, “retiring” them one by one, and then manually republishing each one again – from the beginning, getting new ISBN numbers in the process! As if that wasn’t stressful enough, a few days after completing the updates I received an email from Lulu informing me that this still wasn’t good enough and that I would have to make changes yet again! Hang on a sec – I thought Smashwords was supposed to be the pedantic nitpicking one?

I decided I’d be damned if I was going to change all the covers again to suit them – I wanted the series names on the covers as well, so – groaning and grudgingly, I took all of Galaxii and Quantum down a second time in the space of one week – and republished them again, this time with titles matching the covers EXACTLY! Fortunately, the next morning I received notice that this had done the trick and all Galaxii and Quantum titles had passed Lulu’s evaluation for distribution and had been forwarded to Amazon, Kobo and Barnes & Noble!

I heaved a huge sigh of relief once that was done!

In the meantime, all the titles concerned were still directly available via Lulu’s own shop page, and of course, everywhere else they’re distributed to – Kobo, Barnes & Noble, iBookstore, Smashwords, etc.

All that legwork is now finally behind me, and the newly updated titles that were supposed to have reached Amazon months ago arrived there by the 20th September! But at least, they’re finally there! I was finally able to claim them by clicking “This is my book!” and added them to my Amazon author page! Only then was I able to ask Amazon to link the new editions to previous editions, which will solve the knotty problem of having multiple editions showing side-by-side there!

Still, the drama isn’t quite over yet, as only once this has been done will I be able to update my GoodReads book listing, since their system allows only ISBN/AISN numbers of books being sold on Amazon, and nowhere else!

To make matters even more complicated, somehow in the publishing process over the past couple of years, a duplicate GoodReads author profile got created automatically by some system gremlin or other, and all my current titles are already listed on that site under “Ms. Christina Engela” in duplicate – as they are on Amazon itself – and I can’t claim or add or merge them with my existing GoodReads author user account either! *Head desk!* Perhaps this issue can be resolved if I create a new user account on GoodReads and claim that account… but I still have to get around to it!

I often wonder if aspiring indie authors out there actually knew the amount of work, admin, research, learning, trouble and frustration lying in wait for them, if they’d just give up and not bother! But then, this is my obsession, so it’s not as if I actually have a choice in the matter!

Reviews

“Dead Man’s Hammer” received an amazing 5 star review from UK writer and reviewer, Lee Hall on September 9! I’m not sure how other writers take it, but when I see glowing reports of something I wrote, containing statements like: “As the Quantum series unfolds, it grows more and more impressive“, “Dead Man’s Hammer is proof that Christina Engela can build an established world and insert so many genres into it along with retaining a unique style of writing that not only tributes her influences but has a way of confiding in readers” and “Throughout Engela’s writing style naturally flows and is fun to read“, I feel like breaking out the bubbly and inviting people round to celebrate!

It’s truly gratifying to realize that the reason a reviewer is saying these things, is because they took the time to read something I wrote. It’s also humbling, and I’m very grateful!

It’s probably worth mentioning though, that “Dead Man’s Hammer” has been available since 2006, and this is the very first review I’ve had of that particular title! That alone should serve as an indication of how difficult it is to get reviews as an indie or self-publishing author!

Theo & Yvonne Engela’s Books – New Covers & Formatting

As part of the revision process I told you about in the previous section, I took the opportunity to fix a few things and improve upon the presentation of my parent’s books! I know, I know, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? Still, I couldn’t help myself! At any rate, what I did was create new covers for my parent’s books to make them stand out more, and also to make them look similar and part of the same series, while also reformatting the interior of the eBook into a more uptodate and modern format – the same as the one I use on all the Galaxii and Quantum books! I think they really pop, don’t you?

Poetry by Wendy K. Engela

A couple of months ago my wife and partner in all things wierd and wonderful, Wendy, published her first book – a collection of her gothic poetry! “Season’s Change“. The collection is now available as an eBook via all the expected places, Amazon, Lulu, Smashwords, and all their distribution partner sites.

Sales & Downloads

Since I made a host of new free promotional items available on Lulu and Smashwords, interest towards the end of July – particularly on Smashwords has been gradually showing signs of improvement. Let’s just say that at least I can detect a pulse! Downloads of my free items are happening, and I feel a little encouraged. On the sales front however, things are still pretty dire. Hopefully they will pick up soon.

Current Writing Projects 

Book 7 in Quantum – tentatively operating under the working title “Underground Movement” – is still under way. Just slowly. At the time of last month’s newsletter I told you I’d just reached over 29000 words… and then I peeled some of those off and shifted them to the next title after that’s draft… so “Underground Movement” is currently sitting at just over 21000 words again! Still, it’s all part of the creative process, isn’t it? Right now I’m pondering whether I shouldn’t just merge the next two title’s stories? The story’s finer detail is still evolving and unfolding, so sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of the path while I’m distracted by all the scenery! Anyway, when I make my mind up, I’ll let you know!

Translation

As some of you may recall, in 2016 I released Afrikaans translations of “The Thirteenth Ship” and “Wiggle Room“, which like the English originals, were made available as free downloads. These have been updated and made available once again!  I also made it a goal back in the day, to get all my fiction works translated into Afrikaans for the local market, but also into a couple of other languages – as far as that was possible! Translation work isn’t easy, as I’m sure you can imagine – translation apps can really mangle the works up, and without a native language-speaker to check these translations I’m still up the creek without a canoe!

That said, I’ve had to rely on volunteers to do it out of their own good will rather than to pay top dollar for paid translation services! All I’ve been able to offer people willing to assist me in this task, is mention of their name in the credits and perhaps to give them a free eBook copy of any one of my paid books upon completion of the job!

Now, before you accuse me of being a skint old duck, please bear in mind that the items I wanted translated were all free sample works for which I wouldn’t get paid anyway! It doesn’t make sense to spend thousands of near-worthless Souf Efikin ronts on something that gets given away for free, does it? That being said, some time ago, a few people volunteered eagerly to translate a couple of short stories, and quietly disappeared, never to be heard from again! This recently was the case as well, with several apparent eager-beavers silently vanishing into the mist! Hopefully, in the long-run I can get some of the novels translated. This is a long-term goal, so I expect progress to be slow.

Communication

I’ve also done my level best recently, to start making a post via my website blog daily and then sharing that across social media instead of posting directly to Facebook, Twitter et al. The goal I’ve kept in mind is to post informative articles about various different characters or elements of my stories – and also to come across to readers as more personable… that is to day, less businesslike and less intimidating. After all, I is human too, and I don’t bite… much! So far, that seems to be helping! Below are links to a few of my most recent posts on The Crow Bar:

The Tech Side #1: A Broad-Spectrum Approach To Sci-fi Storytelling

LGBT Heroes in Galaxii & Quantum – the “G” in LGBT

Secret Weapons of the Resistance: Time Travel, Beck the Badfeller & Cindy-Mei Winter

FAQ’s Answered #13: Who Is Sona Kilroy?

FAQ’s Answered #12: Who Is Cindy-Mei Winter?

FAQ’s Answered #11: What Is The Time Saving Agency?

Storm Area 51! Let’s See Them Aliens! Etc!

FAQ’s Answered #10: Who Is Marsha In “Dead Beckoning” to Blachart?

FAQ’s Answered #9: What Inspired “Prodigal Sun” & “High Steaks”?

Secret Weapons of the Resistance: Fred (the Arborian)

Secret Weapons of the Resistance: Bovine Torpedoes

FAQ’s Answered #8: What Inspired The Akx?

Preserve The Past… Save The Future!

Another Round At The Crow Bar #33 September 2019

FAQ’s Answered #7: What Do I Write About (& Other Questions)

Anyway, let’s move on to some more new releases!

New Releases

Some of you may recall that in 2016 I released Afrikaans translations of “The Thirteenth Ship” and “Wiggle Room“, which like the English originals, were made available as free downloads. These have been updated and made available once again!

  Currently Available Titles:

I currently have 22 unique titles available in 4 series (not including the 15 free promotional items).

Alternately, you can view Christina’s books at Amazon, Smashwords, Lulu or Payhip.

Some of Christina’s titles are available in other languages: Afrikaans.

The Galaxii Series

(Click on the cover images to view product pages for each title.)

The Quantum Series

  (Click on the cover images to view product pages for each title.)

Panic! Horror In Space

Space Sucks!

(Click on the cover images to view product pages for each title.)

Other

  (Click on the cover images to view product pages for each title.)

Non-Fiction

(Click on the cover images to view product pages for each title.)

Edited by Christina Engela

  (Click on the cover images to view product pages for each title.)

FREE Promotional Items:

     (Click on the cover images to open free samples.)

On A Personal Note

As I related to you last month, I have opted to sell via Amazon again. Not that I like them, but there’s simply no other way to make any headway as an author – especially an indie author – without making use of their platform.

The two different earlier editions of my dad’s collection of short stories “African Assignment” I mentioned last time as listed on my Amazon author page have finally – after another round of emails, been merged. At this stage, I’m just waiting for the current version to reflect on Amazon’s database before adding it to my listing and then getting those merged with it as well.

Hopefully some headway will be made soon in this regard, and I will as always, keep you posted.

Fan Mail, Reviews & Honorable Mentions

I found the following items to display in this months issue:

Medium.com has shared my article “No LGBT Stereotypes Here!” from last year on their website.

“Dead Man’s Hammer” received an amazing 5 star review from UK writer and reviewer, Lee Hall on September 9, 2019 – the very first for this title!

My favorite reviewer also tweeted THIS about “Black Sunrise” on the 12th!

I got this review on Smashwords for “The Thirteenth Ship“: “Started average, but the ending was different. 4 Stars” – James Jenkins September 12, 2019.

I was quoted by Stephanie C. Odili on Aug 13, 2019 on an article at Medium.com “The patriarchy longs for the days ‘when men were men’ and women were oppressed, subservient — and they can see no wrong in it. It justifies its former power and lust to hold on to it — and if possible, to regain it…How can oppression and power over another person’s life ever be ‘love’?” ― Christina Engela.

A short story project I collaborated on with fellow author Alex S. Johnson “Negative Wonderland” appears on Pintrest.

CrowdCount has one of my quotes at the bottom of their website in a carousel along with quotes from Margaret Mead, Ron Siltanen and Mother Theresa. “Human rights is a numbers game. Who is going to care if only 20 people pitch for a protest?“

Poopbite (odd name, that) lists one of my quotes on a list about bonfires. “Knowledge and education are the keys to this human tragedy which is a bonfire of hate-fueled by ignorance.” – Christina Engela.

GGGMall is still quietly carrying on, selling my books via their website AND on Bid or Buy.

The Daily Ripple posted a quote of mine from “The Pink Community – The Facts” right at the top of their homepage! “The problem is, in a world where some people (even in the USA, where someone like Donald Trump was allowed to rise to the level of a serious presidential candidate in 2016) have descended to such levels of ignorance that science itself is dismissed by leaders, political and religious as ‘an agenda’, and frightening numbers of people cling to ignorance and superstition because it suits their conservative anti-human rights views and objectives.” ― Christina Engela, The Pink Community – The Facts.

I display my Fan Mail, Reviews & Compliments with pride, gratitude and humility. You are always welcome to have a look.

Hate Mail & Horrible Mentions

I’ve had nothing in this department over the past month, other than a couple of pitiful dick pics and weak insults – surely my haters can do better?

This Levitican dickhead (who was on my Facebook friends list until then) made an effort to let me know what a hopeless transphobe he is by posting this string of abusive comments on a share of LGBT Heroes in Galaxii & Quantum – the “G” in LGBT. Yes, I write about LGBT characters in some of my books – and I’m open about being transgender and lesbian myself – so if you’re a homophobe or transphobe, why send me friend requests to begin with? #gallery-0-7 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-7 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-7 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-7 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

This next ignoramus stepped up to demonstrate what happens when you’re a hate-filled sack of shit and you miss your turn to use the family brain cell – when you open your piehole, you sound like a TERF. #gallery-0-8 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-8 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-8 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-8 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

I’m rather proud of my hate mail, and you can review my collection here – but be forewarned, don’t do it while eating or drinking, or you might choke while laughing!

Interviews

I have nothing new to show you here this month.

All my interviews are linked to from this page. If you would like to do an interview with me about my work, please do get in touch!

In Closing

Well, that’s all for this time, folks! 🙂

Thanks again for all your support, friendship and interaction!

Until next time, keep reading!

Cheers! 🙂

If you would like to know more about Christina Engela and her writing, please feel free to browse her website.

If you’d like to send Christina Engela a question about her life as a writer or transactivist, please send an email to christinaengela@gmail.com or use the Contact form.

Show your appreciation for Christina’s work!

All material copyright © Christina Engela, 2019.

Another Round At The Crow Bar #34 October 2019 Hello friends and fans! Welcome to my 34th newsletter - and this time, I think you'll notice right away that there's something different about it!

[theonyxpath]

With the Creature Collection for Scarred Lands 5e Kickstarter funded and scuttling along, and the Deviant: The Renegades Kickstarter starting this Thursday, we will actually have two KSs running at once for most of their duration.

To be fair, the Creature Collection KS is being run by our friends at Handiworks Games (who also created this gorgeous book of monsters), but it is on our new KS site. Deviant will be run on our long-time KS site with my name on it, and ably run by our own Kickstarter Concierge, James Bell.

As to the whys and wherefores, well, for a while we’ve struggled with a limitation that we can’t run more than one campaign at a time on a single KS site. There’ve been times that we had two very different sorts of projects that we didn’t think would overlap much audience-wise, but one had to wait for the other. So I started looking for options.

Aeon Aexpansion art by Grzegorz Pedrycz

One direction – that we’re still looking at – is to go with a different crowd-funding site. The biggest drawback? They aren’t Kickstarter, so our established audience would need to jump to the new platform. Additionally, we too would have to adapt and adopt a new platform’s processes and quirks.

So we keep looking.

(Another option is to move to pre-orders, which we as a company have not dabbled in, but which I am all too aware of since the many years of White Wolf pre-orders and other traditional sales methods. They work, but I sure feel like we’d be losing a lot of the fun that a KS brings to our interactions with our community. Might give one a try, though).

Meanwhile, I set up a new KS account specifically designed as Onyx Path‘s account, not mine. I gotta tell you, with all the internet harassment out there, I’ve gotten a fair bit just by having my name and picture and bio on that site. Plus, with our delightful KS Concierge James Bell running them now, it can get a tad confusing as to who folks are talking to.

We’re still expecting that it’ll be a longer road to get folks used to the Rich Thomas KS account over to the Onyx Path one – but I think it’s a shorter road than trying to get folks to jump to another whole platform. Plus, the original Scarred Lands Players Guides KS wasn’t run by us anyway, it was run by the late Stewart Wieck as his company and Onyx Path co-owned Scarred Lands at that time.

My thinking was that we were going to have to ask that earlier group of backers to find a new site anyway, why not have them go to our new one and give it a try?

Dark Eras2 art by Brian LeBlanc

Like I mentioned above, we’re also looking at two very different projects. Creature Collection is a great monster book overall, but very much geared to the fantasy genre, Scarred Lands, and 5e with all the twenty-sided rolls to hit and all.

Deviant: The Renegades is the very latest Chronicles of Darkness game line, a gritty world where you seek revenge on those who made you into something… else. It uses the 10-sided dice pool system all of the Chronicles of Darkness lines do, and is a complete game unto itself.

Of course, we’d love it if our audience would completely overlap both these and pledge for them both – that’d be great! But our expectation is that there won’t be much of a mix and one part of our Many Worlds, One Path community will back one KS, and another will back the other.

Creature Collection is also set up to have a different KS experience, with the biggest chunk of the book already finished – I mean laid out and everything – but one of the fun parts of the KS is to have backers pledge for rewards that allow them to add monsters, and for monsters to be added after Stretch Goals are achieved. So more pledges, bigger book!

Deviant is set up as most of our recent KSs have been, and backers can expect to have the full text released to them as the weeks go by. Art and layout are still mostly in the future, but everyone can see exactly what this new game is all about by the end of the KS. Stretch Goals will be mostly for new projects to add to the fun of playing Deviant!

So c’mon and check them out – in their own ways, each is a really excellent book, with a fun KS to get it started!

VtR2 Spilled Blood art by Michele Giorgi

In the Monday Meeting today, we also talked about a new project that is being offered for free on DTRPG. No, it’s not one of ours, it’s Consent in Gaming from Monte Cook Games, written by Shanna Germain and Sean K. Reynolds. https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/288535 Basically, it’s a book of advice on how to make sure that scary, disturbing, or freaky events during TTRPG sessions don’t actually mess up the players.

That’s it.

Part of the advice is a handy worksheet that has lists of possible things that might cause issues with the players that each player can go through and check off, with blank spaces to fill in things that you might have a hard time dealing with personally that aren’t on the pre-printed lists. The sheets are tools to be used, like several others like the X-Card that are now available for groups to use for their sessions if they choose to use them.

Judging by the commentary where this product is being discussed, Monte Cook is going to personally come to your group’s gaming session and put a gun the the heads of your gaming friends, and force everyone to fill out these forms. Nope. That’s obviously not going to happen, nor is anyone being forced to implement this tool, or any of the others, around their group’s table.

At the end of the day, these sorts of tools are designed to help players have better gaming experiences, and can be really helpful in assisting players who have previously had bad experiences to come back and give our hobby another chance. We want more people enjoying our hobby, contributing to it, and from my perspective, buying more books and games and stuff so that our creators can make more books and games and stuff.

Let’s not protest things designed to bring more people to our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Our Creature Collection Kickstarter for Scarred Lands 5e went live last week, funded, and is advancing on creepy-crawly legs towards the first Stretch Goal to add more monsters – that the backers vote on – to the book! This book was designed with amazing art by our friends at Handiwork Games, and they’ll be running the Kickstarter for us on our brand-new Onyx Path Kickstarter page!

And, of course, our next Kickstarter is:

The Deviant: The Renegades Kickstarter launches this Thursday the 19th at 12 noon US Eastern time!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features a recording of our What’s Up With Onyx Path Community Content panel from Gen Con, as well as the usual banter and tomfoolery with the Trio! Go to https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/ or to your favorite podcast venue!

The Onyx Path News had another live broadcast today, where Matthew spoke about the Creature Collection, Deviant: The Renegades, Canis Minor, the Slarecian Vault, the Storypath Nexus, You are not Alone, V5 Cults of the Blood Gods, and more, right here: https://youtu.be/98UQKnD_lSY

Please follow our Twitch channel if you haven’t already done so! Our schedule is filled with games including Vampire, Scarred Lands, TC: Aberrant, Pugmire, Scion, Mage: The Awakening, and Hunter: The Vigil! Visit www.twitch.tv/theonyxpath and give us a follow, and if you have an Amazon Prime membership and haven’t already subscribed to a Twitch channel for free using it, just type Amazon Prime Twitch into Google and please use it on our channel!

Remember, if you miss any content on our Twitch channel, some of it finds its way to our YouTube channel here: www.youtube.com/user/theonyxpath Don’t forget though, that some of that content is Twitch exclusive or belongs to the Storytellers running their games, so don’t miss out and remember to follow us!

The Botch Pit continue their actual play of Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2E, with their chronicle “Twice Shy” listenable right here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQfcGvYILEV1vznP5__bOWg

Occultists Anonymous appears on our Twitch channel with their Mage: The Awakening 2E chronicle, but if you’re after a breakdown of episodes, here’s 43 and 44: Episode 43: At the Round Table With Lynnewood Hall scoped out, the cabal rallies with their allies. Seers in Philadelphia must be confronted and the question of … booty is broached.https://youtu.be/r7OdSvwQvE4

Episode 44: Scooby-Doo Routine The cabal infiltrates the lair of the Seers, Lynnewood Hall, and come up against various magical and mundane defenses in search of their stolen Grimoire.https://youtu.be/RqBYdJzZTjQ

The Story Told Podcast have made an episode devoted to how they go about preparing for and running Exalted right here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/fall-of-jiara-episode-14-planning-a-campaign-with-terry-robinson

Plus, the ENnie award winning Red Moon Roleplaying continue their actual play of The Sacrifice, from V5 Chicago by Night, with Klara Herbol as the Storyteller and Matthew Dawkins as a player! Please check them out on www.redmoonroleplaying.com

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

As always, you can find most of Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we’re offering Pugmire character journals and stickers on our RedBubble store!

Conventions!

Save Against Fear: October 12th – 14th GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd PAX Unplugged: December 6th – 8th 2020: Midwinter: January 9th – 12th

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Redlines

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Development

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Manuscript Approval

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Post-Approval Development

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

V5 Chicago Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Editing

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Post-Editing Development

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

W20 Art Book (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Indexing

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution core (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e – Sam on the fulls.

Ex3 Lunars – Contracted. More sketches coming in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers – LeBlanc on this.

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Trinity RMCs – Contracted.

Cults of the Blood God (KS) – Contracted.

Chicago Folio – Getting some art notes out.

Mummy 2 (KS) – Characters being worked on, fulls next.

Memento Mori – Contracted.

City of the Towered Tombs – Contracted.

In Layout

They Came from Beneath the Sea!

Dark Eras 2 – Files with Aileen

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

VtR Spilled Blood – In progress.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Proofing

C20 Cup of Dreams

Signs of Sorcery – Prepping PoD files.

M20 Book of the Fallen – Josh inputting first round of corrections.

DR:E Jumpstart – Sent to Eschaton for approval.

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel – With Rose for final approval.

At Press

Trinity Core Screen – At Studio2.

TC Aeon Screen – At Studio2.

Trinity: In Media Res – PoD proofs coming.

Trinity Core – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

Trinity Aeon – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

V5: Chicago – Files sent to printer.

Aeon Aexpansion – Backer PDFs out, errata.

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Eight years ago today, Vampire 20th Anniversary Edition was released at the Grand Masquerade in New Orleans! Wow, a lot of stuff has happened since then with Vampire! Not to mention the rest of the White Wolf game lines, as well as this little not-so-old company of ours. Why it seems simultaneously both yesterday and a million years ago since I sat in the auditorium signing copies of V20 as the line stretched around the room and out of the door.

[caramell0w]

Sugar and Spice Chapter 1

Since you guys are the best, I am going to give you a sneak peek of my book that comes out next week. This is all of chapter 1 of my book! If you want to order a copy (99 cents, come on and help a girl out) you can buy it from any of these links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2MW0F66

Kobo: https://bit.ly/2PifTjx

Smashwords: https://bit.ly/2MW0Kqq

Books2read.com: books2read.com/u/4DlNlA  

Books2read and Smashwords have a few other websites they partner with so check those out for additional places to purchase (including Barnes and Noble and Ibooks)

Chapter 1

The funeral is over and everyone is still in disbelief that she is gone. She was too young, too healthy to be ripped from our family so soon. Aunt Sheryl was the one constant in my life; I could count on her for everything since my mom passed away during my freshman year in high school. Aunt Sheryl made everyone around her smile, and she had a true talent for making the best baked goods around. I have no idea how I am going to manage this all without her.   

Two days after we buried her, I’m sitting in her attorney’s office, listening to the reading of the will with her husband, my Uncle Rob.

“Finally, to my darling niece, Kaylan Santine, I give you complete control and ownership of Little Sweet Shoppe. She has always been good to me and I know she will do wonders for you. Make me proud and keep her in the family.”

“What?” I almost choke on my water, so I place the glass on the table in front of me. “I know nothing of owning a bakery! I don’t even know how to bake that well. Why isn’t she leaving it to you, Uncle Rob?” I ask, panicking.

The attorney hands me the will so I can read it myself. I read it once, twice, three times before handing it back and leaning into the fabric chair. How could she do this? What was she thinking? I’m shell-shocked as I sit here, staring straight ahead, before my uncle waves his hands in front of my face.

“Kaylan, are you still with us?” Uncle Rob asks.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Why not leave it with you or sell it? Why leave it to me?” I turn my full attention to Uncle Rob, my eyes pleading for answers.

“You were the only one she trusted with the store that is family. You worked there for many summers throughout high school and college. You know the ropes. When we were putting this will together a few years back, she was adamant that you take control of the shop.”

I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, my mind racing, trying to think rationally about this, how to make this work. There are people who work in the bakery that know the ropes, and I could buy some books on how to do it…

“Uncle Rob, what if I can’t do this?” I look at him, my eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

“Kaylan, your aunt had all the faith in the world you could do this. I’m too old to take on something like this, and she couldn’t bear to see it close. She felt the shop was too important to the community and refused to sell it to a chain store. She wanted to be able to keep small businesses around.” He reaches forward and places a reassuring hand on my knee. “Please try. If things really start going south, we can look into other options, okay?” he asks, a small smile playing on his lips.

I stay silent for a moment, letting the words sink in. “Okay.”

“Great, now that’s settled, here are the keys.” The attorney drops a set of three keys on a ring into my hand. “She owned an apartment upstairs from the bakery as well. The rent of the apartment is included in the rent for the shop. I need you to sign here.” He points to the blank line on the paper.

“She had an apartment?” I look at my uncle and he shrugs.

“News to me, sweetheart.”

I sign on the line and gather my belongings to leave the office, Uncle Rob in tow.

“Don’t be mad at Sheryl,” Uncle Rob says, patting my shoulder.

“I’m not mad at her. I just don’t understand her! Baking was her passion. I just worked there because it was a job and she let me eat stuff that wasn’t sold at night,” I scoff lightly. “What am I gonna do? She has employees and bills and everything else. I mean, did she handle all the finances or did she have someone to do that?”

We walk out into the sunny street and begin making our way toward the parking lot across the street.

“She has someone, a nice guy. His name is Dan. He’s been over with his wife and kids for dinner a few times. She also has someone who comes in and helps her bake in the mornings and another girl who helps with the front during the day. How about I take you over there this weekend and you can meet everyone? They are reopening on Saturday. I’ll do the introductions, and you can start getting a feel for the place.” He smiles, trying to reassure me.

“What about my job? I already have one of those with benefits and everything. I can’t uproot my life in the city to move out to the suburbs. What about Kevin?” I feel myself start to panic again thinking through all the changes that are about to happen.

“We’ll figure it all out. Now, go home, get some sleep, and I’ll see you in a few days, okay?” he asks, pulling me into a tight embrace.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in a few days.” I hug him back, but I’m not feeling any better about the situation at hand.

Getting into my car, I decide to drive over to the shop to have a look around. I park my car in front of the shop and get out to peer into the window. She wasn’t into technology, and the shop relied on people coming in to pick up their orders. She refused to have a website, insisting that it took away too much of the charm.

I press my face against the glass and smile, remembering all the summers of tasting the sweet treats and helping customers as they raved about how amazing everything tasted. Aunt Sheryl has, had, a way of resonating with people; she could make a room light up just by being in it. The shop has been closed since the funeral. She was well known in the community, as was evident by the turnout at the wake and funeral.

I look around at the chairs on the small tables, and the drink cooler to the right. Everything is exactly as it was the last time I was here. I close my eyes, picturing the happy customers coming to pick up treats for dessert or for a party. The shop was so full of life, and I can almost hear the bell over the door and Aunt Sheryl’s infectious laugh as she filled the cream puffs. Concentrating hard, I can smell the sugar in the air, the sweetness just enough to put a smile on someone’s face when they open the door. I ponder going in for a minute to have a look around but think better of it at the last second.

I open my eyes again to see the shop still empty and the lights still off. I groan inwardly as I think about how to run this place. First things first, I have to go home and talk with Kevin.

Tagging some friends: @theimpossibleg1rl @siren-kitten-his @katiew1973 @suz-123 @diinofayce @learisa @avenger-nerd-mom @princess-evans-addict @jewels2876 @loriwrites (I can never remember your other user name when I do this girlfriend) @devikafernando @tilltheendwilliwrite @4theluvofall @stuckyfox @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @221bshrlocked @winterwitch611

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#1yrago Touring, complete: what gear survived four months of hard-wearing book-tour?

I had the last official stop of my book tour for my novel Walkaway on Saturday, when I gave a talk and signing at Defcon in Las Vegas. It was the conclusion of four months of near-continuous touring, starting with three weeks of pre-release events; then six weeks of one-city-per-day travel through the US, Canada and the UK, then two months of weekly or twice-weekly events at book fairs, festivals and conferences around the USA.

Now I'm touring complete. There's one more event on Aug 10 -- a kind of victory lap presentation at my local library here in Burbank -- and then a trickle of events over the next six months, but that's more like my normal baseline of public appearances, a very different experience to the kind of thing I did from April until last weekend.

It's been nine years since my first book tour -- the Little Brother tour -- and as always, there were new facts on the ground to adapt to, as well as hard-won wisdom that saw me through.

Here's some new stuff: indie bookstores are doing better than they have in years, and they're expanding into lots of live events, which are better-planned and better organized than ever. In many cities, there is one thriving indie and three or four suburban Barnes & Nobles, and these have changed, too: seeing as they are the only game in town, these B&Ns attract some stellar booksellers who intimately understand marketing and also really, really care about books. Also: all the indie bookstores have devoted substantial floorspace to embroidered socks. I'm calling it: we are at peak funny-sock.

Here's some stuff that's still the same: "Never pass up a chance to take water or make water." That is hard-won, important touring advice, passed from serious traveler to serious traveler as gospel. Airports are worse than they've ever been...and it's easier to buy your way out of the hardship, between TSA Precheck and Clear, which require that you give up a ton of personal information (which I'd already given up when I applied for my Green Card, so I went ahead, and it was so, so worth it -- so much so that I presume that anyone who has the wherewithal will buy their way into these programs and cease to do anything to mitigate the traveling woes of the general public -- watch for travel to get waaaay worse for normals who only fly a couple times per year).

I've been changing out my travel gear for years, trying to find the optimal combination of flexibility and comfort. I check a bag, and my suitcase was not lost once on this tour (it's happened before, though, and had to catch up with me a city or two down the road). The suitcase was severely damaged, and more than once (more on that below).

Here's the gear that survived this trip, stuff that will stay with me on upcoming trips.

Coffee

This goes first. Life it too short for shitty coffee.

I use an Aeropress (but you knew that). I've stopped carrying around a hand-grinder. I have only so many duty-cycles left in my wrist tendons and then I will cease to be a writer. I'm not wasting them on a hand-grinder. Now I grind my coffee before I leave and put the coffee in a Ziploc Easy Open Tab quart-sized freezer bag (I keep a stash of these in my suitcase and resupply at coffee shops when I run out, having them grind for me; this means I can't buy Blue Bottle coffee since they, alone among coffee shops, will not grind their retail beans, boo) (I also bring along a handful of gallon-sized bags for various purposes). I've tried a lot of sealing bags, and Ziploc's easy opens are the only ones I can reliably seal well.

I heat water in the remarkably great Useful UH-TP147 Electric Collapsible Travel Kettle, a silicone collapsing kettle that has a thermostat that keeps water at near-boil so long as it's plugged in and on. It's multi-voltage and worked great in the UK, and it collapses down really small. The only downside: it looks weird enough on an X-ray that it is a very reliable predictor of having your bags searched by the TSA after you check them.

I am utterly dependent on the Orikaso folding cup to use with my Aeropress on the road. The majority of hotels supply paper cups, or glasses that are too narrow for the Aeropress. Carrying a rigid cup that decomposes into a thin sheet of plastic the size of a sheet of printer-paper spares me the awkwardness of holding the body of the Aeropress with one hand while pushing down on the plunger with the other to keep from squashing the paper cup.

For emergencies, I carried a stash of GO CUBES Energy Chews, a "neutraceutical" whose manufacturer makes a lot of extravagant claims for them. I think those claims are silly, but these are basically gummy-chews made from cold brew coffee (and stuff) and they work very fast and well, but did give me jitters (which were preferable to caffeine withdrawal).

Toiletries

I carried my favorite shampoo, conditioner, soap and a supply of generic woolite in a set of four Innerneed silicone tubes (which I kept in a ziploc). I've used a  lot of different silicone tubes and these are my current favorites -- they have a locking mechanism that keeps the hard plastic lid more firmly in place on the silicone body of the tube, even when it's lubricated with slippery soaps, preventing the kinds of catastrophic breaches you get when the whole lid assembly just pops off the tube and everything comes pouring out.

I swapped out my old generic pharmacy rotary electric toothbrush for the Violife Slim Sonic Toothbrush, which is a AAA-battery-powered equivalent to one of those unwieldy, induction-charged Braun ultrasonic toothbrushes that my dentist wants me to use. It performs just as well as the Braun on my sink at home.

I suffer from really terrible, untreatable chronic pain and can't sleep or sit for any length of time without serious pain. I am absolutely reliant on my hot water bottle, with a knit sleeve. For my money, these are the best comfort items you can travel with -- I get them filled with boiling water by the flight attendants before take off and refill them hourly. At bedtime, I fill them from my collapsible kettle. The only downside: it's really easy to leave these behind in the bedclothes when you depart at 4AM.

I carried all my toiletries in Eagle Creek's Pack-It Wallaby Toiletry Organizer. It came highly recommended and after hard use, I see why: it has the best zippers I've ever had on a toilet bag, stores an incredible amount of stuff and still rolls up tight, and did a great job of containing one tube-of-goo breach that could have wrecked everything else.

Clothes

Before the tour, I did a bunch of reading on the best travel underwear and decided to try Uniqlo's Airism Low Rise Boxer Briefs -- they were so comfortable and so easy to wash out in the sink (and so quick drying!) that I threw away all my other underwear when I got home and ordered a half-dozen more pairs. I traveled with three pairs of these, which crumpled small enough that I could fit them all in a pants pocket (should I have a need to do so?) and I rinsed the day's underwear in the sink every night and hung them to dry, chucking them in the bag in the morning, dry and clean.

You might already know that I love the look of Volante's jackets and coats, so it won't surprise you to learn that I lived in an Augment hoodie for the first half of the tour (when the weather was cool), switching to a lighter-weight Peregrine for the second half, when things warmed up.

I started the tour with three different pairs of pants in my suitcase, but left two behind on a resupply stop at home, because I was only ever wearing my Betabrand Off-the-Grid pants, which have enough stretchiness in them to do some basic yoga in, have huge pockets that somehow don't bulge much even when overfilled, and a neat little discreet mid-thigh side pocket good for keeping boarding passes in. My complaint: these were not colorfast at all: they were basically gray by the time I got home, even though I only ever hand-washed them in hotel sinks with generic woolite.

I always travel with pajamas: when you're on long flights, you can change into them for comfort; they give you a way to interact with hotel staff from your room early in the morning or late at night without having to get dressed or put a towel around your waist. I've been buying deadstock vintage men's pajamas from Etsy all year, because they look awesome and are more comfortable than anything you'll get in stores today.

I've been using REI's Sea to Summit compression sacks as laundry bags for ages: there's no problem with wrinkling your dirty laundry, right? Compression sacks are sorcerous reminders of just how much space there is between molecules.

I lived in Native Jeffersons: basically a kid's croc shoe, but molded to look like a low-rise Converse All-Star. Super comfortable, and I could rinse them in the hotel sink every night and leave them upside-down against the wall and slip into them in the morning.

Comfort items

I traveled with a Stanley Adventure Flask that I filled with Jefferson's Reserve Pritchard Hill Cabernet Cask Finished, 15-year-old bourbon that's finished with a couple years of rest in old cabernet casks. Yum.

I always keep a couple dozen catering-sized sachets of Tabasco in my suitcase and handful in my carry-on. They don't seem to show up as liquids on TSA X-rays so you can keep them in your bag, and I've never had one burst in a bag. They make everything super-delicious (or at least bearable) and they are way more space-efficient than those cute, tiny, single-use Tabasco bottles.

Swimming

Swimming is the only way I can stay sane on tour. It keeps my chronic pain under control and burns some of the empty airplane-peanut and minibar calories.

I swim with an underwater MP3 player. After trying a lot of models, I settled on the Exeze players, which are only available for sale in the UK. However, I've since discovered that virtually the same players are sold under other brand names in the USA: one model I've tried and liked is the Aerb.

The reason I swim with an MP3 player is so that I can listen to audiobooks. I get through a couple novels per month this way. Audible's proprietary DRM format isn't compatible with MP3 players, so forget about getting your swimming audiobooks that way. Instead, try Downpour and Libro.fm, both of whom sell thousands of DRM-free audiobooks. Audiobooks and swimming are a magic combination. I couldn't make it through the tour without them.

Gadgets

I got my Calyx hotspot just over a year ago. It offers anonymous, unfiltered, unshaped, unlimited 4G/LTE wifi through Sprint's network, and supports the nonprofit good works of Calyx, who provide anonymity and privacy services to whistleblowers, journalists and many others. They are the good guys and this is a great product at a stellar price: $100 for the hotspot and $400/year for unlimited mobile broadband.

I continue to use X-series Thinkpads. I'm currently on the X270 and it runs Ubuntu very well. I didn't need any service on this tour, but I have on other tours, and I'm serene in the knowledge that the extended on-site next-day hardware replacement warranty (about $75/year!) guarantees that no matter what, I won't be without my computer for more than a day. My X270 took a lot of hard knocks on this tour and survived unscathed. My sole complaint: they screwed up the keyboards with the X230 (or so) and still haven't made a new chiclet keyboard that's half as good as the original Thinkpad keyboard. Please, Lenovo, bring my beloved keyboard back!

I use a Google Pixel phone and it's...not terrible. Everything about it works fine, but it has unbelievably shitty battery life. That is a killer on tour. The Alclap case solved that problem...for two weeks, and then it stopped working. I ordered two more, both of which were duds out of the box. The Scosche Magic Mount was more awkward to use, but also longer-lasting (it died last weekend, thanks to fraying in the wire that connected it to the phone).

Luggage

You know all those suitcases that come with ten-year warranties? They're all designed to have a ten-year duty-cycle...assuming that you travel once or twice a year. In decades of hard travel, I've yet to buy a suitcase that can live up to the punishment of daily flying.

So now I buy suitcases based on how easy they are to get warranty service on. I had heard great things about Rimowa, and I loved the look of their cases, so I bit the bullet and sprang for one (they're extremely pricey). I quickly discovered that their much-vaunted service was terrible -- in London, anyway. My options were mailing the case to Germany, or taking it to a service center on Euston Road where they were rude, deceptive, and all-around awful. I was ready to swap the case for another manufacturer when I moved from London to LA two years ago.

But in LA, the whole story is different. Rimowa's service here is handled by a place out in Beverley Hills called Coco's Leather and they're pretty good at fixing stuff (there's sometimes a week turnaround, but I've found that if I call them after messengering the busted case out to them, they can often turn it around in a day).

I needed it. My Rimowa case was seriously damaged three times on tour: twice it had wheels ripped off (the whole wheel assembly, including the riveted-on bracket, torn right out of the aluminum!) by Southwest's baggage handlers in San Diego. Another time, AA baggage handlers destroyed the latches.

I'm sticking with Riwoma for now. Every luggage expert I've spoken to says that there's just not anything that will survive the kind of punishment I put my bags through, so I'm buying based on warranties, and between Coco's Leather and Rimowa's long-lasting warranties, I can live with this situation.

I've gone through a lot of luggage tags over the years and have yet to have one last more than a few flights before it's torn off in the hold, caught in some grinding system. Now I use the TUFFTAAG Travel ID Bag Tag, made of hard-wearing aluminum with braided steel cables. Dozens of flights later, the tags are bent and battered, but still intact and still attached to my case -- that's a first.

https://boingboing.net/2017/08/02/hard-won-wisdom.html

[double-m1nd]

1-100 cause I want to know everything. 😂

THANK YOU!!I never get asks when I want them, so this makes up for that lolSpotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Soundcloud

is your room messy or clean?Right now? Messy

what color are your eyes?Brown

do you like your name? why?Hell yeah. Personal reasons

what is your relationship status? Taken

describe your personality in 3 words or lessReserved, selective, nice?

what color hair do you have?Dark brown

what kind of car do you drive? color?Acura RL, Tan

where do you shop?Nowhere lol but where I most likely would again is Barnes and Noble

how would you describe your style?I like immersion. Loud music and HD video

favorite social media accountEh, not sure

what size bed do you have? Idk. Big bed

any siblings?1 younger brother

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?Texas; Church's Chicken

favorite snapchat filter? Don't use em

favorite makeup brand(s)No idea

how many times a week do you shower?Many times

favorite tv show?HRRRMMMMMMMMMMMMMProbably Westworld  

shoe size?let me check..... 9.5

how tall are you?My ID says 5'10"

sandals or sneakers? Sneakers

do you go to the gym? Off and on

describe your dream date?A night out to see a band we love to drink and sing to

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment?8 quarters

what color socks are you wearing? Black 

how many pillows do you sleep with?2

do you have a job? what do you do? Yep, low voltage... installation? Idk

how many friends do you have? Probably more than I think

whats the worst thing you have ever done? Drank decaf

whats your favorite candle scent? No idea lol

3 favorite boy namesJames, Chris, Francisco

3 favorite girl namesJennifer, Kristine, Jazmine

favorite actor? There's plenty but I'll go with Paul Rudd  

favorite actress? ???? SANDRA BULLOCK(but also Cate Blanchett tho)

who is your celebrity crush?Vera Farmiga

favorite movie? Pineapple Express!!

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? Probably evrey other day; The Old Testament lol

money or brains? Por que no los dos?

do you have a nickname? what is it? yea. Berto

how many times have you been to the hospital?Twice

top 10 favorite songsOh no lolMetronomy- The BayBilly Talent- SurrenderDaft Punk- TouchOceana- The Family DiseaseThe Birthday Massacre- BlueMertic- Gold, Guns, GirlsAbove & Beyond- AlchemyDavid Guetta- One LoveMichael Brun- Check This OutGemini- Blue

do you take any medications daily? NAH SON

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)Dry. I hate lotion

what is your biggest fear? Hrmmmmm......... being trapped somewhere alone

how many kids do you want? 2 or 3

whats your go to hair style?Cap

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) Regular sized? 4 bedroom

who is your role model? ME. But nah i don't have any

what was the last compliment you received?That I have a pretty smile. Nice

what was the last text you sent?Beef and Broccoli with white rice and extra white rice

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?I have no idea lol

what is your dream car? Scion FR-S

opinion on smoking?I wish I could smoke

do you go to college? Nah

what is your dream job?  A.... priest? Weird. But it's the one talent I have, so I may as well grow into it

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? Suburbs

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? Not yet

do you have freckles? NO YOU HAVE FRECKLES

do you smile for pictures?Always lol

how many pictures do you have on your phone? Many

have you ever peed in the woods? Not YET

do you still watch cartoons? EVERY. WEEK.

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?McDonald's since Wendy's got rid of their spicy nuggets >.>

Favorite dipping sauce? Ranch

what do you wear to bed? Basketball shorts and a tank

have you ever won a spelling bee?Yea I won a Bee that be spelling  

what are your hobbies?Watch movies, read, listen to loud music for hours, drive around and look at things, go out and meet people at parties or shows

can you draw? Not well

do you play an instrument?Trumpet

what was the last concert you saw? PENDULUM

tea or coffee?Coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?Starbucks

do you want to get married?YOP

what is your crush’s first and last initial?L R

are you going to change your last name when you get married? No lol

what color looks best on you? Black for sure

do you miss anyone right now? Yep

do you sleep with your door open or closed?CLOSED

do you believe in ghosts?The Holy Ghost Amen

what is your biggest pet peeve? When my parents don't listen to me and make stupid decisions

last person you called`Mom lol

favorite ice cream flavor? Orange Sherbet

regular oreos or golden oreos? Regular

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? Chocolate

what shirt are you wearing? Just a tank

what is your phone background?Default

are you outgoing or shy?Both at the same time

do you like it when people play with your hair?Uhh... sure

do you like your neighbors? Nah

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning?In the shower

have you ever been high? I tried but it just made my stomach hurt really bad and then i was really itchy the next day. I think I'm allergic lol

have you ever been drunk? Yop

last thing you ate? Fish :)

favorite lyrics right now“Resurrect the nights we stayed up with nothin more than chaos on our minds”

summer or winter? Winter

day or night? Night

dark, milk, or white chocolate? Dark

favorite month? December/June

what is your zodiac signGEMINI

who was the last person you cried in front of? Leah?

[yournewapartment]

Need help on this topic, im so lost.. I'm 20, female and have NEVER had a romantic relationship of any kind. I blame living in the country and lack of a dating pool. But I would like to try and find someone.. I want a relationship thats aimed toward marriage, but I don't know if I'm ready or how to start or if I'm actually attracted to anyone which scares me. I know girls don't turn me on but I'm not even sure if guys do and if I can't love or feel for anyone I'm scare of being alone forever

I know it’s frustrating, but try to remember- there is no set schedule for meeting someone, falling in love, and getting married. You have so much time! I know it might not seem like that right now, but I promise that that special someone is out there waiting for you. You’ll meet them when the time is right. And please remember, you don’t have to decide who/what that person is right now. Just feel it out as you go along, and listen to what feels right.

I’ve combined three posts for you. Advice on finding someone, dating someone, and then having sex with said person (if you so choose).

I hope you find this helpful! Hit me up with any specific questions.

Finding That “Special Someone(s)”

1. The first step is deciding what you’re looking for in a relationship. It’s best to be as specific as possible, while knowing that you can always adjust with time. One of the things you need to be definitive about is whether you’re looking for a committed relationship or not. No judgment either way, but you need to know what makes you comfortable. Some other things to consider:

Monogamy or Polyamory 

To sex or not to sex

Are you willing to LDR?

What sort of activities are you looking to do with this person? Hiking, gaming, exploring, etc.

Does age matter to you?

2. Once you know what you’re looking for, start looking for people who fit that criteria. This might seem like an obvious notion, but really, so many people form unrealistic expectations with people/persons who don’t fit their ideal. I’m not saying that they need to be 100% what you’re looking for. Nobody will be! But if you’re looking for a committed relationship and get involved with someone who is not ready to settle down, you can’t expect them to suddenly come around to your way of thinking. Start off with someone on the same page as you.

3. How do you meet such a person? Use your environment! You’re around so many people all day, people who may not be of interest to you, but people who know people. Find out if your friends know anyone who fits your picture. Friends are a great way to meet people. Also, hate to say it, but go to parties! Go to parties with you friends and socialize. Is there someone cute in your Physics class? Find out if she wants to go over homework with you at the campus cafe.

4. I also recommend frequenting places that you enjoy, and scoping out potential cuties. If you like to read, hang out at Barnes and Nobles to find a guy who likes to read. If you like hiking, join an outdoor adventure group. Feed your soul, while on The Hunt.

5. I highly recommend befriending any person you’re interested in. Put yourself in social situations with this person, to see if you’re socially compatible. We all know people who are sexy as all fuck but share nothing in common with us. Start with the shared experiences and work from there, I guarantee you that this method creates better and longer lasting relationships.

Dating Tips

1. Figure out what you’re looking for in a partner. There are lots of fish in the sea, and every one is different! You may be attracted to someone but not sexually or socially compatible with them. If you know exactly what you’re looking for, you may find it easier to zero in on the person(s) that interest you the most. Remember that you can always and should always adjust your wants/needs as time goes on.

Here are some ideas to get you started, but this is by no means a complete list:

Are you ready to commit to certain relationships? Or are you in the mood to explore different people with no particular ties?

Are you interested in one person? Or multiple people?

Are you interested in sex?

Are you bold and looking for someone to get out of your comfort zone with? Or are you confident and happy with where you are sexually? Or a mixture of the two?

2. Choose your “perfect date” ahead of time. I’m not a super spontaneous person, and I envy those that are. But I feel much less anxious when I already have a date planned in my head. Plans can always be adjusted, but I like to have a plan. In my mind, the “perfect date” has three parts…

One: The shared activity. Start your date off with an activity for you to do as a couple. Something public like a movie or a visit to a museum or hiking. While this may not seem super romantic to you, this is a great way to bond in a non-sexual way. And a public venue and a pre-determined activity takes some of that anxious pressure off. You don’t have to talk a lot (if at all). Keep it light!

Two: Dinner. This takes a bit of research. Find out if your intended is an adventurous eater or if they have any food preferences. I like to experience new things, and I want to be with a person who is open to that. So I think this meal should be something new and exciting. Possibly food from a different culture that they’ve never tried, or else something gastro and experimental. But not too expensive. Stay under $50 for this first date. And TIP!!

Three: Romance. Now is the time for you to spend some one-on-one time together, if you’re both feeling it. You could invite them back to your place, or take a romantic walk in the park if you’re not ready. But somewhere semi-private where you can have a deep conversation and really get to know each other.

And that’s it! Rinse and repeat!

3. Please ignore any societal notions you ever had about communication. Text or call whenever you want to! If you really like them, do it right away. If someone is really put off by how quickly you contacted them after a date, then they are not for you.

4. Be open about your experiences. If you’re a virgin or haven’t dated before, tell the other person. If they really like you, they’ll remember that these are life experiences that everyone develops at different times and they won’t care. Don’t be with someone who thinks that inexperience is a bad thing. Everyone is different!

5. There is no timeline for when you should sleep with a person. Well, actually there is, but it’s called “your personal judgment”. The same goes for any oral sex you may or may not want to have. If she eats you out, you’re not required to do the same to her. If he gives you a rim job and then she licks your balls, you’re not required to suck his dick or her tits.

6. Safe sex is so important! Please use condoms or some form of birth control. Some STDs will stay with you for life, and not everyone is honest about them. I’d also suggest that if you are getting serious with someone, that both of you get checked out by a doctor. Your health insurance should cover a yearly visit!

7. Please use caution before sending anyone naughty pictures of yourself. Just Skype them and do some naughty cam stuff.

8. Remember that fights are totally natural. Fighting every day is not, but occasional fights are bound to happen. It’s so important to talk through problems! Don’t keep them bottled up and festering inside, if you can’t be honest about how you feel then why are you with them? Compromise when you can but stay true to yourself. A couple is a unit, but it’s the individuals that make it successful.

9. Go traveling and vacationing together. People are often at their most anxious when traveling, and I would absolutely recommend that you spend some time together to see if you can work through the stress. Also, if you’re going to move in with someone spend some time living with them first. Before my boyfriend and I moved in together, I spent two nights out of the week living at his parent’s house and he spent one night living at mine.

10. During the first few months of dating or being with someone, you’ll probably want to spend all your free time with them. Think “Glue” by the Velvet Underground. Spend that time with them, but stay true to what makes you passionate. Keep painting, running, cooking, whatever.

General Sex Tips

1. I would highly recommend that you spend some time “getting to know yourself” before having sex. Feel around down there, see what feels good and what doesn’t. See if you can get yourself turned on. The more experience you have knowing what works for you, the better you’ll be able to communicate with your partner or partners and have an enjoyable experience.

2. If you have a vagina, odds are that your first time having sex is going to be slightly painful. This is totally natural, and will go away as time goes by. But be prepared to be upfront with your partner and to ask them to go slowly or use more lube if things do start hurting.

3. Condoms! There are many different kinds (ribbed, flavored, hot and cold). Magnum are large condoms, so if you are buying condoms and don’t have a monster dick, you probably should not use them. An ill-fitting condom is an ineffective condom! Also make sure to always store condoms correctly and to throw them out after their expiration date. Only one condom at a time folks, wearing two condoms is not twice as protective. They’re more likely to rip.

4. If you have a vagina, you should be peeing and/or showering immediately after sex to prevent UTIs. These are no joke! They are extremely painful infections that cause you to pee blood. Always pee after sex. Pee twice. People with penises can also get UTIs, but it’s far harder.

5. Did you know that only 25% of people with vaginas can have vaginal orgasms? So if you can’t, don’t stress! There are all sorts of different orgasms to be had, and they are all equally amazing. If you’re not cumming, you’re not being stimulated properly. Try a new position, a new technique, try having your partner or partners stimulate you in a different area. The page I linked above is a bit gender specific, but it has really useful information, so please ignore these terms.

6. Foreplay is so important! Vaginas take an average of 20 minutes to get properly revved up and horny. The reason you’re “dry” down there is because you’re not properly stimulated. You can always use lube in a pinch or ask your partner to go down on you, but you’ll find that sex is easier and more enjoyable when you are literally “wet down there”.

7. Period sex. Oh how I love period sex. Vaginas are at their most sensitive during this part of the cycle, so achieving an orgasm can be easier. If you’re going to have period sex, throw a towel down first. Blood comes out super easily in the wash, you don’t have to do anything special to the cloth to get it clean. You will probably want to shower afterwards!

8. Communication is key. You cannot just lie back and think of England and hope that you’ll achieve a magical orgasm. It’s not like that. What turns your partner or partners on may not turn you on. This is absolutely fine! You may not even want to cum or be able to cum during your first time having sex, and this is fine too. Tell them what works and what doesn’t and be AS SPECIFIC AS POSSIBLE.

9. On a similar note, you are not obligated to do anything to anybody else or to yourself that you are not comfortable with. You do not need to give blowjobs or hand jobs or even have sex with someone if you aren’t 100% into it. If someone is pressuring you and thinks that sex equates a happy relationship, then I would advise you to ditch them and get on with your life.

10. Protection! Please use protection. Whether this is condoms, birth control, an IUD, whatever. The pull out method does not work. I am a product of the pull out method. Not everyone with a penis has precum, but many do. Don’t take the chance! I am on birth control and I love it, but that’s a whole different post.

11. Dildos come in all different shapes and sizes. You can get ones that are smaller and thinner than actual penises and ones that are comically large. Make sure to use lube! Wash them with dish soap in your sink and leave to dry. Some dildos that are “hyper realistic” come with a powder that you have to put on them. These are incredible dildos, I highly recommend them. They feel so life like!

12. Edible underwear does not taste all that good. Neither do flavored condoms.

13. Black sheets or black blankets and sex are not a good mix. You will see cum stains. They wash out super easily, you don’t need to do anything special to clean them. Just keep them out of sight when your friends and Aunt Kathy come over.

14. If you start having sex and decide that you want to stop having sex then please tell your partner and stop. You are not obligated to keep going if you feel uncomfortable. Your body = your choice.

15. If you have a vagina then you will want to make an OBGYN appointment shortly after you start having sex. These are vagina doctors and they can check your vagina out to make sure that everything is okay. You should probably get your vagina checked out often if you have multiple partners. If you are in a relationship with one person and use protection, then once a year is fine.

[ambitchousrobot]

Vent post because I’m currently alternating between having panic attacks, screaming into my pillow, and ugly sobbing and I’m not sure how to channel that energy into something constructive so I might as well try venting.

I have chronic depression and generalized anxiety. It sucks, but for the most part it’s old news. Except for the last 10 months or so, everything’s just slowly escalated until it’s at the point where I don’t know how to handle it.

Back in September I left the Barnes and Noble I had worked at for two years. So far it is the only job I’ve ever had that I loved. The work itself was pretty great, I was a kids lead and so I got to shelve books, set up promotions, organize the section, and do story time and help with events. I greatly enjoyed it for over a year. But thanks to a shit ass general manager and the fact that the corporate side of Barnes and Noble has made it exceedingly clear that the care about nothing but appeasing shareholders for as long as possible before they have to declare bankruptcy, the job turned into a living hell for me. After weeks of having panic attacks nearly every day, I turned in my two weeks after realizing that if I didn’t quit the job that I would kill myself. I didn’t finish out my two weeks because after my last shift there I went home and made a suicide attempt. I decided my life was worth more than my obligation to finish out my two weeks.

After that I went back to my previous job as a dog groomer at Petco. This decision was based solely on the fact that I knew I could get hired there in less than two weeks. I applied the day I put in my two weeks at Barnes and had the job two days later. I knew I would hate it, because I hated it the first time. But I needed money. My coworkers were racist pieces of shit. My salon manager straight up used the slur towel head on my first day there. There was no one there that I liked working with. I worked my ass off because it was a commission based job and I wanted the paycheck to be worth the misery of working there. I developed carpal tunnel in my wrists. The last month I worked there, I was in severe pain. When I would clean up at the end of the day, I would have to use both hands to grip the spray bottle to sanitize stuff because I literally did not have the grip strength to lift it with one hand. I had to put in my two weeks in March because I was literally destroying my body. And of course being in an environment I hated wasn’t good for my mental health either.

I was unemployed for a couple of months after that. First because my wrists were too bad and then because no one was hiring after the start of the new fiscal year. My partner and I had money saved up, but we were worried about how long it would last. My depression and anxiety were at an all time worst. So when my partner asked me to consider moving in with his brother, sister-in-law, and niece, I agreed. Because I felt like a worthless piece of shit burden and I didn’t want him to work himself to death supporting us.

I asked my parents to help us move because they have a trailer. They told me their was only day in the entire month of May that they could help us move. They told me his at fucking noon on the day before the only day they could help us move. So I furiously cleaned off all the big furniture and packed what a could, only caring about what we had to have a trailer to move because it was all I had time to do. I was up for 24 hours straight. We got the big furniture moved but there was still a bunch of small shit left because I had to pack in one day.

I also started a part time job at Lowe’s literally the day before my parents called me. (So two days before the move) and so right after moving I immediately had to work a week scheduled at full-time even though I was only hired as a part time worker. But I needed the money so I didn’t say shit. I spent the next week or so going back and forth to pack and unpack shit after my shift each day.

Lowe’s fucking sucked. I had a position that was relatively new within the store and no one was really sure what my job entailed, which meant it was a whole lot of “pretend to be busy so you don’t get your ass chewed, but there’s literally nothing to do.” Unoccupied time is horrific for me when my anxiety is high. I need work to keep my brain in check. So this job was torture. When I did have this to do, it involved asking people to do things because my job involved a fair amount of delegation. Which I hated doing, because anxiety. And since the position was new, there was a lot of resentment and refusal to cooperate from the other employees. Meaning I didn’t just have to ask people to do things, but I also had to ask multiple people to do things dozens of times just to get one task accomplished. And that often included me getting yelled at for bothering them because they were too busy to help me do my job. Which was fucking horrible for anxiety. I hated every minute but the pay was good so I was going to try to tough it out. But the last straw came during my second week on the job. One of my coworkers at my area had been transferred from head cashier to the online order desk where I worked. So she had worked at the company longer than me, but literally didn’t know anything more than I did about our area as she didn’t get promoted until the day after I started. She cussed me out and chewed my ass out, forcing me to stay thirty fucking minutes late because she was yelling at me, all over a single mistake that took literally 5 minutes to fix. And this was after she made a much harder to fix mistake twice early in the day. She made me cry and I was fucking furious because 1) she didn’t have the authority to reprimand me like that 2) it was my first mistake during my first week out on the floor, second week with the company and 3) it wasn’t even a big deal I could have fixed it myself 5 times over during the time she wasted treating me like a fucking dumbass. So the next shift after that, I broke down and harmed myself during my break and then unceremoniously walked out in the middle of a panic attack and never came back.

So now I’m unemployed again. My mental health is in shambles. I’m massively suicidal. And I haven’t even gotten to how much of a nightmare moving in with my in laws has been. But that’s for another post so sorry for the long ass line of text.

[dargeereads]

  BROKEN HEARTS (Hearts #2) by M. O’Keefe Release Date: April 27th   Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56586813-broken-hearts     PREORDER Broken Hearts #2!!! https://amzn.to/395tPcc   Start the series today with Stolen Hearts #1!!! Amazon US: https://amzn.to/35tGR1Y Amazon INTL: https://bit.ly/3rmoJAE Apple Books: http://apple.co/34AScgr Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/37Hb92L Kobo: https://bit.ly/3hiWDla Google Play: https://bit.ly/3peROMn  

  Excerpt: You’re a selfish prick. My father’s voice in my head was scathing. Ya always were. Only looking out for yourself. You’d fuck that girl into next week and never think twice. But I always thought twice. Always. And this was a moment that wouldn’t come again. It made me feral. Wild. I could hurt her. She would like it. The thought of her pleasure at the edge of my violence made it inevitable. I wanted to hurt her and be hurt by her. I wanted to drown in the pleasure and the pain we’d give each other. And then I wanted to walk away and seal this part of myself, this weak and vulnerable part of myself, up like a brick wall so I never fucking felt this way again. “Poppy.” That was all I said. Her name. But it was full of my intentions toward her. My wicked depraved intentions. She stood to face me, breathing deep. Her nipples beneath the borrowed shirt she wore were hard, and if I got my hands inside those sweatpants, I’d find her drenched. For me. For this. I could smell it in the air. “You don’t scare me,” she whispered, though a little bit of her was lying. “I should.” “You’re going to give me some big speech about how you’re going to hurt—” I cut her off with my fist in her hair. She gasped, going up on her toes. My desire was a tidal wave. An onslaught. “Say stop and I’ll stop.” Her eyes went wide as if she was just understanding what she’d signed up for at this moment. And then I kissed her, open mouthed, my hands in her hair, holding her still. I plundered her. I sucked and bit and she let me. She bit back. Her tongue was in my mouth and her hands were around my waist, tangled in my shirt, holding onto me. “Stop,” she panted, and I stopped. My mouth a breath away from hers. The only things moving were my heart pounding my chest and my blood filling my cock. She licked her lips. “Just checking.” She grinned at me and I pulled her up and against me, refusing to laugh. Refusing to admire her. To fucking like her. I rubbed my thumb over her lips, prying my way inside. Not that she refused me. Not that she had one single defense. “Suck,” I whispered, looking into her eyes, daring her to look away. But she didn’t. She looked right back at me and sucked on my thumb. Biting it with her teeth. “I’ve got twelve hours to fuck you until I don’t give a shit about you.”    

  Blurb: Ronan. His name thrums through me like a heartbeat. I climbed out of the smoldering crater of my life only to find myself back in the middle of a slow-motion trainwreck. I’m hunted, torn between my past and present, ripped apart by two warring families. My husband is dead, and his killer is the only man who’s ever felt the deep well of emotion I keep hidden from the world. Ronan. Vicious and scarred—his rough touch is seared into my skin, but his soft caresses are what break down my walls bit by bit. Until there’s only me left. My soul in his bloody hands, and my broken heart beating just for him. Only him. Ronan. My shadowy protector, my phantom lover—kiss me or kill me, I don’t care. As long as you’re the one who does it.   About the Author: M. O'Keefe can remember the exact moment her love of romance began--in seventh grade, when Mrs. Nelson handed her a worn paperback copy of The Thorn Birds. Writing as Molly O'Keefe, she has won two RITA Awards and three RT Reviewers' Choice awards. She lives in Toronto, Canada, with her husband and two children.   Connect w/Molly: Website: https://www.molly-okeefe.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MollyOKeefeBooks Twitter: https://twitter.com/MollyOKwrites Instagram: https://instagram.com/mokeefeauthor Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18341240.M_O_Keefe Bookbub: http://bit.ly/3aKQn4g Amazon: https://amzn.to/3aYw3N9  

[jamesbarnesbestgirl]

Just The Beginning Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Slow Burn)

Featuring: Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 1475

Warnings: Porbs cringy writing as this is my first fanfic in over 4 years. Swearing (maybe)

A/N: Here is part 2, if you wish to be tagged please feel free to message me. I promise Bucky will be in the next part.

Reader POV

Under the cradle there appears to be a man welding something to it. As we approach the centre of the lab he removes himself from under it and stands to greet us. Once stood the man takes off the welding helmet to reveal a face I haven’t seen since my sophomore year of high school.

“Howie? Is that you?”

“Y/N/N! I haven’t seen you since I blew up my prototype during my graduation ceremony.” He says, walking over with a genuine smile on his face.

Meet Howard Stark. World renowned genius, business man, and play boy. He and I went to the same boarding school back in the day. He’s like an older brother to me.

“I know! It seems like forever ago.” I say smiling back. “I’m assuming you’re the head engineer for Project Rebirth?” I ask, raising my eyebrows with a smirk.

“You know me, I create only the best.” He said with a laugh.

“Yeah, except for that one time in biology.” I state with a misjuvistb look on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I mess up one time. Go on rub it in.” He said shaking his head with a smile. I laugh at his exasperated look as I scan around the room.

“You’re free to go guys. I can take it from here.” He stated, dismissing the agents that escorted me into the lab. “Let me grab your things while I catch you up to speed.” He says grabbing my bag before I can protest.

I turn towards the agents who escorted and thanked them for the ride. After they walk out the door I turn back towards Howard. “So what’s the game plan?” I ask.

“Let me give you a rundown of what I’ve got done and a tour of the lab.” He says, starting to walk towards the doors.

I spend the rest of the day following Howard around and catching up on the progress of Project Rebirth. He explains how the test subject is going to be injected with a serum designed by Dr. Erskine before they are subjected to a high volume of Vita-Rays. “So as you can see, that’s were I come in. My job is to design the cradle and ensure it can safely administer Vita-Rays to lucky contestant number one.” He says while we stand back in front of the cradle he was working on when I arrived.

“I can see that.” I say with a smile. “But where do I fall into all of this?” I ask.

“The SSR needs someone to help me make sure that the cradle protects the lab technicians when it’s producing Vita-Rays. You were chosen because of your background in bimolecular science.” He explains. “And, maybe because when I saw the list of candidates I recognized your name and put a good word in.” He says sheepishly.

“So I’m basically your babysitter?” I ask him with a look of distain.

“Think of it more like you’re my partner in crime. The one who cares about the week being of others.” He says jokingly. “Come on kid. I’ll show you to your room.” He says, slipping his arm around my shoulder.

Over the next several weeks Howard began calibrating the cradle. For the most part it went seamlessly, with myself having only to knock some sense into him once or twice. The amount of nagging and constant reminders he needed to not change the cradle design ever 5 seconds was ridiculous. It was safe to say my patients was on its last legs by the time the day of the experiment came along.

That morning I got up bright and early. I walked into the lab to see Howard making some final adjustments the cradle. “Everything set for to go for today?” I ask while handing him the coffee I brought for him.

“Just putting the finishing touches on now. What time will they be here?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“They should be here in an hour. Finish up fast. I’m going to make sure all the medical supplies is accounted for. You know, just incase you blow something up.” I say with a chuckle.

“Oh, ha ha. Laugh it up princess. I’ll be done with this in ten.” He say, before turning back to his work.

Before I know it the lab is being filled up with all sorts of people. Lab technicians helping Howard doing safety checks. Several important looking men from the army. I’m pretty sure I even saw a member of the senate somewhere. Even Colonel Philips and Dr. Erskine were overseeing the work being done and speaking to the guests. The only person missing was the man of the hour. 5 minutes later I heard the door open. I look up from my work to see everyone starring at the entrance to the lab.

At the door was Peggy standing next to someone who looked to be no older the 14. He was fairly short and scrawny with light blond hair. The room was so still you could hear a pin drop, than, after a beat it was back to business as usual. They walked down the steps into the lab and proceeded to talk to Colonel Philips and Dr. Erskine.

“Nurse Y/L/N. Could you come here a moment.” I hear Dr. Erskine call my name.

I smile as I walk over to them. “Colonel, Doctor, Agent Carter. How may I be of assistance?” I great them.

“Miss Y/L/N, this is Steve Rogers. He has been chosen as the first soldier for Project Rebirth.” Dr. Erskine introduces.

“Honour to meet you soldier.” I say, shaking his hand with a smile.

“Likewise.” He says.

“Rogers! Take off your hat, shirt and tie. Nurse Y/L/N is going to quickly go over your vitals before we begin.” Colonel Phillips ordered, causing Steve to jump.

“Right this was soldier.” I say, motioning for him to step towards the cradle. “So, what made you want to enlist?” I ask him while I take his blood pressure and write it down.

“There are men laying down their lives for this country. I have no right to do any less then them.” He said while shifting uncomfortably as the pressure of the arm band builds.

“That’s very noble of you.” I say with genuine smile.

“How about you? What made you become a nurse?” he asked shifting slightly.

“Well I’ve always had a knack for helping and healing people, as well as an interest in science. I used to help my mom with taking care of my younger siblings, especially my little brother. You actually remind me of him.” I say smiling thinking of my family back home.

I hope that they are doing alright. I know my two youngest siblings are finishing up their studies, but my eldest younger brother was off fighting who knows where is Europe. Steve lets out a cough which breaks me from my train of thought. I smile apologetically as I place my stethoscope on his chest. “I just need to check your heart rate and your breathing and then you’ll be good to go.” I say. He nods as I continue with my examination. “There. All done.” I state while writing my last few notes down.

Steve thanks me quickly as I help him get settled into the cradle.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m sure you and Agent Carter will be more comfortable in the viewing booth.” Colonel Phillips states, gesturing for Peggy and I to follow him.

“So, how was working with Stark?” Peggy asked as we walked up the steps to the viewing platform .

“Oh, Howie was a true gentlemen.” I say loud enough for him to hear, looking for his reaction with a sly smile.

“Howie?” she asks.

“Yeah, he’s a friend from school.” I say as we take our seats in the observation lounge.

The procedure was completed with only a “small” power cut as Howard would call it. When it was finished I could not believe my eyes. Steve was now at least 6’2 and had gained an enormous amount of muscle mass. As he was helped out of the cradle everyone from the viewing area had moved down into the lab to get a closer look at the worlds first super soldier.

I see Peggy walk straight up to him and I notice her barley stop herself from touching his chest. I smile knowingly at their interaction, telling myself I’ll have to get her to tell me about what went on the past few weeks. There was a loud bang that was heard from above. I was so caught up with watching my friends interaction with Steve that I didn’t notice the initial explosion until Howard had knocked me to the ground.

Tag List

@mizz-kraziii

[courtsextras]

You know you have 5 kids when… your 4-year-old starts preschool and it takes you until the second week to give an update. - Ezra (or EZ; pronounced EE-ZEE) is doing MWF morning preschool at the same school as his older siblings. Which, fun fact, is also where L and I graduated from, in case you didn't already know. He is adjusting well with only a moment or two of apprehension. Mostly he is excited to go play with the toys - specifically he seems to love some "fake Oreos" that he won't stop talking about. 🤷🏼‍♀️🤣 I'm imagining he's talking about play food in the little kitchen area. - He has proudly become more proficient in his ABCs, and LOVES that he is finally getting use out of the backpack we bought for him last year. (Pro tip: ALWAYS check out the clearance tables at Barnes and Noble. I find amazing deals there, like, every single time I go there… which is a lot; I have a problem. I got his backpack for super cheap, and it's a high-quality bag I wouldn't have bought otherwise.) - My favorite thing about this pic is that I get to see my sweet boy's smile twice and from two different angles. Love love love him. (at Urbandale, Iowa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEroI9Cj6p9/?igshid=tgjuo3eb0r5f

[theonyxpath]

This week, we continue our trend of unusual Monday Meeting posts. Last week it was because we didn’t have a Monday Meeting, so Rich talked about covers because that’s what you do on Labor Day, I guess? This week we did have a meeting, but Rich isn’t writing the blog.

No, Rich hasn’t decided to start talking about himself in the third person. Instead it is I, “Fast” Eddy Webb, writing the Monday Meeting blog chat up top while Rich and Lisa rush off to handle a family emergency. Further, Matt McElroy is wrapping things up to take a well-deserved break for a week. So I got nominated because the biggest emergency I have right now is that I got a new tattoo on my forearm last week, and it itches like the Dickens. (It’s a Sherlock Holmes-themed tattoo, which is not a surprise to anyone who knows me.)

M20 Book of the Fallen art by Sam Denmark

This seems like a good time to talk about schedules and delays.

One thing we mention a lot around here is that we don’t do release dates for our games. There are a lot of reasons for that, but the big one is that we’re never sure what can cause a project to get delayed. Sometimes, it’s something out of our control, like when we learned this week that the printer had an accident on one of our covers and has to reprint the entire run.

Other times it’s something that impacts one of us, like Rich’s family emergency or finding out that a freelancer has to drop off a project suddenly. And once in a while it’s because we choose to take a bit longer and do something right, like the meeting we had today with the TC:Aberrant team to go over the playtest feedback we got during the Kickstarter.

Obviously, we do our best to take problems into account. It’s why we have really long lead times on our Kickstarters these days, for example — all of my Realms of Pugmire Kickstarters have delivered their main project on or earlier than the anticipated deadlines, but a couple times it got close because of unforeseen problems like me having to move to another country.

Spilled Blood art by Andrea Payne

When I pitch new projects to Rich, I try to estimate how long each phase is going to be, and then add some more time on to account for problems. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t, but we’re always learning. One of the things we’ve learned is that, in addition to our weekly Monday Meetings, it’s good to have quarterly Production meetings as well (which, by sheer coincidence, we’re also having this month).

This is where Rich, Mike, and Matt sit with us in-house developers and we go over every single project. It gives us a chance to think about all the projects as a whole, allowing us to think about which ones need to hustle and which ones we can ease up on for a bit. Ideally, this kind of planning allows us to do things like hold up on greenlighting new books while existing ones are making their way through the process. But it’s not an exact science for us, as you’ll note this week no less than three Scion books have all hit approval simultaneously, leaving poor Rich and Neall to review hundreds of pages of manuscripts. (Sorry guys!)

M20 Book of the Fallen art by Vince Locke

Obviously, we would love to make perfect, beautiful books for all of you as quickly as possible. But we’d rather make good products instead of fast ones where we can, and we’d rather not grind our freelancers down just to meet an arbitrary deadline. So when things happen that are out of our control, we try to help each other out where we can, and put things on the back burner if something more urgent happens.

That’s why I’m writing the blog for Rich today, and why Matt McElroy, our tireless Operations Manager, is taking a well-deserved vacation this week. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to our usual wonderful updates while I find new ways to ignore the fact that my arm really, really itches. Also:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

Starting this week – I’m told on Thursday the 12th at 12noon Eastern US time – is the Kickstarter for the Creature Collection for Scarred Lands 5e! This book was designed with amazing art by our friends at Handiwork Games, and they’ll be running the Kickstarter for us on our brand-new Onyx Path Kickstarter page! Here’s a teaser video:

Scarred Lands Creature Collection

Launching this week on Kickstarter! The Scarred Lands Creature Collection for 5th Edition!

Posted by Handiwork Games on Monday, September 9, 2019

And, of course, our next Kickstarter is:

Keep an eye out in this space as well as on our social media for the Deviant: The Renegades Kickstarter that will be launching later this month!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast features the Terrific Trio regaling us with stories and ideas of going to conventions solo (since all three of them have actually done that recently)! Go to https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/ or to your favorite podcast venue!

The Onyx Path News had another live broadcast today, where Matthew spoke about Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon, Canis Minor, the Slarecian Vault, the Storypath Nexus, all our games on Backerkit, V5 Cults of the Blood Gods, and more, right here: https://youtu.be/mehFIKpd3ts

Now’s the time to follow our Twitch channel if you haven’t already done so! Our schedule is jam-packed with games including Vampire, Scarred Lands, TC: Aberrant, Pugmire, Scion, Mage: The Awakening, and Hunter: The Vigil! Visit www.twitch.tv/theonyxpath and give us a follow, and if you have an Amazon Prime membership and haven’t already subscribed to a Twitch channel for free using it, just type Amazon Prime Twitch into Google and please use it on our channel!

Remember, if you miss any content on our Twitch channel, some of it finds its way to our YouTube channel here: www.youtube.com/user/theonyxpath Don’t forget though, that some of that content is Twitch exclusive or belongs to the Storytellers running their games, so don’t miss out and remember to follow us!

Red Moon Roleplaying have commenced with uploading their actual play of The Sacrifice, from V5 Chicago by Night, and the first part can be found here: https://youtu.be/omRiK6a_Ans If you’re interested in the ENnie award winning Red Moon Roleplaying‘s other shows, please check them out on www.redmoonroleplaying.com

The Botch Pit are definitely worth checking out if you’re interested in Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2E, with their chronicle “Twice Shy” listenable right here: http://thebotchpit.com/

Occultists Anonymous appears on our Twitch channel with their Mage: The Awakening 2E chronicle, but if you’re after a breakdown of episodes, here’s 41 and 42:

Episode 41: A Troupe and Trip Wyrd the Seer continues the construction of her nascent Labyrinth and uses it to develop the run-down Leaf Theater. The cabal travels to Philadelphia in pursuit of the missing Adamantine Arrow grimoire.https://youtu.be/eH3Kvockqv8

Episode 42: Stake Me Out Tonight The cabal works with the largest cabal in Philadelphia, the Founding Fathers led by Benjamin Franklin, to locate the grimoire within Philly and recon the area!https://youtu.be/2HXN4l_3C1E

Caffeinated Conquests continue their bizarre sojourn into The Sacrifice (unlike any other actual play of the chronicle) over here on their YouTube channel: https://youtu.be/MOZpIOFzjos

Finally, Matthew asked the YouTube channel viewers what kinds of games from Onyx Path they’re most looking forward to, and there have been some interesting answers: https://youtu.be/CumFV-XiWMc

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

As always, you can find most of Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, the compiled Trinity Continuum: Aberrant webcomic You Are Not Alone will be available in PDF and physical book PoD versions on DTRPG!

Conventions!

Save Against Fear: October 12th – 14th GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd PAX Unplugged: December 6th – 8th 2020: Midwinter: January 9th – 12th

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Redlines

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Development

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

Manuscript Approval

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

Post-Approval Development

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

V5 Chicago Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Editing

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

W20 Art Book (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Post-Editing Development

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Indexing

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution core (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle – getting Gaydos, Trabbold, and Vince on this.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e – Sam on the fulls.

Ex3 Lunars – Contracted. Sketches rolling in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers – LeBlanc on this.

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Deviant (KS) – Art in and approved. Putting together KS graphics.

Trinity RMCs – Contracted.

Cults of the Blood God (KS) – Contracted.

Chicago Folio

Mummy 2 (KS) – Characters being worked on, fulls next.

Memento Mori – Notes out this week to artists.

In Layout

They Came from Beneath the Sea!

Dark Eras 2 – Files with Aileen

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

VtR Spilled Blood – With Josh.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Aeon Aexpansion – Need to do cover.

Proofing

C20 Cup of Dreams

Signs of Sorcery – Inputting changes.

M20 Book of the Fallen – With Satyr Phil for proofing.

DR:E Jumpstart – Sending Eschaton for proofing.

CoM – Witch Queen of the Shadowed Citadel – Inputting Rose’s comments.

At Press

Trinity Core Screen – At Studio2.

TC Aeon Screen – At Studio2.

Trinity: In Media Res – PoD proofs coming.

Trinity Core – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

Trinity Aeon – Printing. PoD proofs ordered.

V5: Chicago – Prepping files for press.

You Are Not Alone (TC: Aberrant Comic) – PDF and PoD physical book versions available this Wed. at DTRPG!

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Not today, because today has not been such that I feel celebrating is appropriate, but tomorrow. Tomorrow we start a whole series of palindrome dates! 9/10/19 – 9/19/19! Dunno why, but those dates like that make me grin!

[serendiptious-esparza]

92 Truths

Thanks for the tag @detectivesmuttycarisi :)

Last...

Drink- One of the sparkling Izzie drinks at Starbucks

Phone Call- To my dad to pick me up from Barnes and Noble

Song you listened to-  Love on Top by Beyonce ( a bop)

Time you cried- last night!! so much fun!! 

Have You Ever ___?

Dated someone twice- When I was younger, I used to “date” this boy during the school year, and break up with over the summer. This happened multiple times.

Been cheated on- Nope, never had the opportunity to have that happen.

Kissed someone and regretted it- YUPP! spin the bottle only leads to regret and almost contracting mono.

Lost someone special- Sadly yes, I only have my grandparents on my mom’s side left.

Been Depressed- too many times, almost my constant state

Been drunk and thrown up- I’ve only had sips of achocol, I’m pure.

In The Past Year Have You...

Made a new friend- Yup all of my tumblr friends and I moved so all the people at my new school. 

Fallen out of love- Yupp, it’s an amazing thing when the feeling is not reciprocated.

Laughed until you cried- last night and this morning

Met someone that changed you- no, but I would like to meet the people who have changed me.

Found out who your true friends are- Definitely, out of sight, out of mind is a real thing. 

Found out someone was talking about you- Yah! apparently I gave like two boys and myself mono! fun times!

General

How many people on tumblr do you know in real life? - none, but I would love to meet them.

Do you have any pets?- Yes! i have a shizh zu named Chanel who doesnt really like me, but lowkey loves me. shes the cutest!

Do you want to change your name?- No, I’ve grown to love the unquieness of my name, even if no one can pronounce or spell it.

What time did you wake up this morning?- like 10ish am, which is surprising because I did not go to sleep until 4 am. 

What were you doing last night?- literally avoiding sleep, watching raul kill it in chitty chitty bang bang, and talking to my best friend about deep shit.

Name something you cannot wait for- Warmer weather, the criminal justice class I’m taking next year, and my trip to Washington DC, my happy place!

Have you ever talked to a person named Tom?- A boy named tommy was deeply in love with me in elementary school and everyone teased me about it. so yeah we talked a few times.

What’s getting on your nerves right now?- my own procasination. just finish writing already!

Blood Type- My mom tells me like once a year and I always forget.

Nickname- Raine, Rainy, Dora, A.G(Academic Gangta), Little Thing Thing, or just simply D!

Relationship status- mentally dating all of my favs

Zodiac- Sagitarius ( i think that’s how its spelled, too lazy to check)

Pronouns- she/her

Favorite Show- SVU or Criminal Minds owns my ass!

College- Hopefully Ivy League when I get there!

Hair color- dark brown, like basically black

Do you have a crush on someone?- no one that I know in real life, but all of my favs could get it!

What do you like about yourself?- my personality and that I can outwrite most of the people my age if I really wanted to. 

Firsts

Surgery- I have yet to have one, yayay

Piercing- when I was like one, I got my ears pierced but like waste of time because I despise earrrings.

Sport you joined- Dance, when I was two and then on and off after that, i did cheerleading once

Vacation- I’ve been to every themepark, museum,and childlike thing on the east coast, but I remember like half of them. The first one I remember is Disney World. Thanks Mom and Dad for the cool childhood, still fucked up somehow though!

Pair of sneaker- IDK! probably something cool because my mom is super into shoes. 

Right Now 

Eating- Nothing but im going to eat quinoa and boiled eggs later.

Drinking- Water like always

I’m about to - bother my father, my favorite pastime aside from ignoring all of my writing projects and responsiblitys!

Listening to- Sauce It Up by Lil Uzi Vert ( it helps me get hyped and focused because its just gibberish)

Want Kids?- like three

Get married?- If it happens then it just happens*shrug*

Career- Student but hopefully in the future a succesful prosecutor (just putting it in the atmosphere) 

Which Is Better? 

Lips or eyes- Eyes

Hugs or kisses- both 

Shorter or taller- taller

Romantic or spontaneous- romantic

Sensitive or loud- sensitive

Hook up or relationship- havent had either, but a relationship in theory

Troublemaker or hesitant- hesitant 

Have You Ever...

Kissed a stranger- yes

Drank hard liquor- nope

Lost contacts or glasses- yes like once for like two weeks, but like everyday I lose my glasses. it sucks

Sex on a first date- my virginity is screaming no

Broken someone’s heart- my own multiple times

Been arrested- nope, but if my state police stepdad sees me walking he talks to me over the walkie like im in trouble. 

Turned someone down- yeah, im desperate, but not that desperate

Fallen for a friend- yuppp, its fucked up

Do You Believe In ___?

Yourself- sometimes

Miracles- no

Love at first sight- nope

Heaven- no

Santa Claus- no, but my mom still likes to act like he bought me a bike this year

I tag @unleashthemidnight @ghostofachancewithyou @dan-is-snot-on-fiyah