#in the hopes that I can get this full draft done before november

[revvethasmythh]

8 days ago my longfic wip was sitting at 17k and had been for weeks, and today I passed 30k. I have no idea what changed in my brain chemistry to allow this to happen, but honestly thank fuck

[l-e-morgan-author]

Draft cover for the on-newsletter-signup free stories which I haven't finished editing yet. (So you can't have them yet; I'll finish editing them to my satisfaction before I open up my email newsletter.)

Further ramble below; it got kind of long. First about what these stories are about, then more rambling about my current works-in-progress and specifically aspects of Patience, Changing that I'm enjoying. Might recycle some of this for the next newsletter tbh.

A quick and not-edited summary of each story:

Ever Changing, Ever Near - Hadassah is different to everyone else, but despite that finds great joy in the changing seasons.

A Fragile Solace - Hadassah and Nem are friends. Despite what happens after, she treasures the friendship that they have.

Both stories were entered to (different) local competitions and were highly commended. I can't give an estimated story length because at least A Fragile Solace requires a bunch of editing that may lengthen it. Since I no longer have a word count requirement because I'm not planning on submitting them to any other competitions, I can go ham on them.

In case you don't know who Hadassah is, Hadassah is from the 2022(? maybe '23) Inklings challenge, which I wrote about 8k of. I was Team Lewis, portal fantasy. A very rough summary is that Hadassah is an autistic girl in a neurotypical world, one of the peasants of that world and chosen to be sent through a portal. Nobody knows what lies beyond. For Hadassah, what lies beyond is found family such as she hasn't experienced her entire life.

I found getting into her head unreasonably hard at the time, which is why I wanted to write stories about her, and why I haven't finished drafting her story. With more understanding of autistic people and also myself than I had then, I expect that when I get back to that properly I'll find it a lot easier to write.

I also intend to edit The Patience of Hope to be another newsletter freebie - the edited version, I mean. I intend to leave the first draft up on my website indefinitely, even if an edited version is published as part of something else (such as A Quiet Patience, though with the number of novellas I've got planned, that might be quite long...). But that's for a little way down the road, not yet.

As for a general update on writing generally, I've written a little bit more of Hands Made for Gentleness, but not much. That will require a lot of working with it once the first draft is done, but I've written up a rough outline of the rest of the main story beats, and I have a clearer idea where I'm going. I'm ideally going to finish drafting Patience, Changing before I really get back to that, which is about 20k away (yay!). I'm thoroughly into the third act, figuring out I need to know my characters better so the third act will require a good deal of rewriting, even though the bones are good. I'm pleased with the balance of characters, and at times even though I'm going "Hmm this needs work", I can switch that off and just work on it. I've been writing drabbles every day for this month, and currently I'm one (1) day behind. The drabbles have been helpful, providing scene ideas I can flesh out into full scenes, so they might be a bit janky in context, but I can edit that later.

I've really enjoyed two characters I didn't intend to include in this manuscript: Hannah (Patience's aunt) and Connie (who Patience meets in hospital). Hannah is a symbol of the seriousness of anorexia, and I am not looking forward to writing her death. At present the scene I'm writing is set on the 19th of November, 2018, and Hannah dies on the 16th of December, 2018. She's already written the letter to Patience, as well as the anonymous letter Patience doesn't realise is from her and which needs rewriting. But she has to die and it will tear my heart out to write her, though I've got to read at least a good chunk of A Grief Observed (C. S. Lewis) before I write about that. At present her death is set for the third last chapter, but I expect to rearrange things - events that I thought would work for two chapters turned out I'll need to significantly rewrite to get to even one chapter, so I'll probably use those events to close the second act rather than close the second act and open the third act as well, and therefore rearrange things to give enough space for Hannah's death. If I go over my planned word count in these chapters that's fine; whatever works. I just don't want to go under.

Having the 3k aim has been really good, because some of the time it's forced me to write 'filler' that I reread and am convinced I'll keep in, and sometimes it's kept me to only that long which is good practise too.

Oh, and also! The other character I've enjoyed. Connie. Connie's in hospital following a suicide attempt, but the psych ward's full up and she's not considered at high risk so she's in a general paeds ward, which is where she meets Patience. She isn't particularly forthcoming about why she's in, and Patience respects that. She suspects but is only told right at the end:

“You make me brave,” she said to Patience, just before she was transferred. “I came in here with a suicide attempt and you have made me discover I want to live. Live! When living has been a slow death all this time. You make me want to live. I wasn’t going to make it and I was okay with that. Now I’m going to fight, because of you.”

They keep in touch afterwards, and probably when I edit The Patience of Hope I'll include a scene with Connie in it. Because just as Hannah has to die, Connie has to live. I love the way both of these characters add to Patience's journey, but without trivialising her own very real issues. That's definitely something I'll have to do an edit pass to make sure I'm not doing, because yes, in the grand scheme of things Patience's hangups are very small but to her they're huge. Which is why I held off on writing this story for a good five years, and I'm terribly glad I did, because this story is far better than it would have been years ago.

Anyway. I'm rambling. All this to say that while I'm struggling a bit with writing it, Patience is still going swimmingly. I anticipate finishing the draft either by end of this month (stretch goal) or next month (realistic goal). Then I can dive back into Hands Made for Gentleness and maybe plotting The Time Travelling Midwife and/or Hadassah's story on the side.

I'm also having a fantastic time with Patience and Nathan's interactions at thirteen/fourteen:

“You’ll get through it,” he said. “In Christ, Patience. In Christ.” She smiled at him. He was very dear to her, standing there awkwardly and smiling his dear awkward smile back.

[jo-harrington]

Jo, my love 🤍

For a little Heaven/AASB prompt: A Nightmare on Elm Street

Chelsea my love 💜 This has been sitting in my drafts for so long. (The last blurb game I played.) I love you and know you needed a little time to feel better, but hopefully this can make you smile a little. Sorry this is so late, I am TRASH.

Haven't ready Heaven yet? Find it here. And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

December 1984

It had been a month.

A month full of nightmares and worry and tentative touches.

Eddie walked on eggshells around you, making sure you knew how much he cared about you—how much he loved you—while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, hoping to soothe whatever demons lurked just beyond your consciousness.

But he couldn’t deny it anymore.

You lied to him.

And he needed to confront you about it.

“You saw Nightmare on Elm Street without me,” he exclaimed as you opened the door to greet him, ready for a night in.

Your previously excited expression fell.

“Eddie, I—”

“Nope,” he interrupted and pushed past you into your apartment. “I don’t wanna hear it. You said you didn’t want to go with me and you went anyway.”

After the whole incident that night in November—the one that had you practically clawing at his door, covered in soot and muck and smelling like smoke—he had treaded carefully. You had put on a brave face but he knew that you weren’t ok.

You flinched when he touched you if you didn’t expect him to. If you spilled any gas when you went to fill up your car, you’d scrub and scrub your hands until the skin was raw and throbbing.

However, the nights where you stayed together—whether at your apartment or at the trailer—and you woke up panting and in a cold sweat were the worst.

Which was why he didn’t protest when you turned down seeing the movie with him, despite having been excited several weeks before when you’d seen the preview for it on tv.

“That looks absolutely amazing. I can’t believe they’re waiting for November. They should have released it for Halloween!” You gushed.

“Listen, that Terminator movie seems pretty cool too,” he justified. “We’ll just have to wait.”

So the two of you waited, and Eddie waited even longer, it seemed.

He didn't bring it up when the Hawk began advertising it on the marquee--he thought he was giving you time before springing a nightmare monster on you--but at Thanksgiving, Wayne had mentioned it after the commercial popped up during dinner and you immediately became flighty.

"That the movie you kids were thinking' of seeing?" he asked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Yeah, we need to get tickets before the Hawk features another show." Eddie turned to you. "How 'bout it, angel? You're off tomorrow."

"Oh, umm," you pushed your fork through your macaroni and cheese and shrugged. "I'm kind of...tired. I was just gonna stay in, if you wanted to just come over and watch movies with me there."

Eddie agreed, of course. Not only was he eager for any amount of time he could spend with you, he just...didn't want to push you before you were ready. He also didn't want to be the kind of boyfriend who steamrolled you just because he wanted to do something.

He'd been around enough assholes like that and he knew, whether you explicitly said it or not, that you had been too.

Still...he really didn't want to wait until Family Video had the tape for rent.

So on the last day that it was at the Hawk, some dull little Wednesday at the beginning of December, he went. Brought Jeff, Gareth, and Dave under the guise of it being a treat for a great set the night before. (They really had done a good job.)

And on the way out, he noticed the poster still hanging outside of the box office. The creepy claws, Heather Langenkamp's petrified gaze. Maybe seeing the movie would be too much for you, but the poster would look really good on the otherwise-barren walls of your little apartment.

So told the boys to wait in the van so he could beg and plead and possibly bribe the theater manager--one of Rick's fishing buddies--to give the poster to him.

Imagine Eddie's surprise when the older man pulled a post it off the side of the cash register and said it was already spoken for. That surprise only increased tenfold when he recognized your name and phone number scrawled there.

Eddie asked when you'd claimed it.

"Yeah, a big group from Bradley's came by right before Thanksgiving" the manager shrugged. "You know old Tim likes to do...what do they call it? Team building? Whatever new fangled ways that you get out of paying out a holiday bonus."

Eddie didn't know how to feel...he knew you kept secrets...he did too. It wasn't that the two of you were lying to one another, per se...this certainly felt like a lie though.

Why wouldn't you just tell him you had seen the movie?

The two seconds it took for the theater manager to take a breath and get to his feet were an eternity for Eddie, and in that eternity, he spiraled in insecurity. His doubt in you, in your relationship, in himself.

He didn't want to do it. Didn't want to be this way. But what else should he think--could he think--but that it was his fault when everyone left?

The theater manager exited the box office and walked over to the poster display. He fished keys from his back pocket and unlocked the little window, then pulled the poster out and handed it to a numb Eddie, oblivious to his internal conflict.

"She said it was some kind of surprise for her boyfriend," the manager explained. "But...you're practically Rick's kid. I can't say no to you Ed. Just don't tell anyone where you got it. I don't want to get some kind of phone call saying I'm...out to destroy young love or something."

Just like that, all of the doubt exited his body.

Now here he was, standing before you as you stammered and tried to explain, as you tried to say that you had no choice. You paced and worried your fingers together and he knew he had to stop you before you got too caught up in your guilt.

He pulled the poster out from where it was tucked inside of his jacket and held the roll out to you.

"What's this?" you grabbed it from him with a frown.

"The scroll with the instructions for the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch," he grinned and urged you to look at it.

You unfurled the poster and the tension in your shoulders dissipated.

"You could have just gone with me again," Eddie offered. "I wouldn't have minded."

"I just...didn't want to be a disappointment to you," you sighed. "I know you were looking forward to it. You always cover my eyes during the jump scares. That's your favorite part."

"No," Eddie shrugged. "My favorite part is making out with you during the credits."

You rolled your eyes and rolled the poster back up to hit him with it.

"Hey now, don't damage the goods," Eddie laughed and grabbed you by the arms to stop your playful abuse. "It took a lot of work to woo old Bill into giving me that poster."

"I wanted to surprise you," you scoffed. "I was even gonna give him $20!"

"You seriously underestimate my ability to charm people, sweetheart," Eddie teased. "Hypnotize them, get them to fall for my devastating good looks."

"I guess I'm just immune to that charm," you snarked and he shifted his hands quickly to your waist tickle you. "Ah no Eddie!"

You shrieked and squirmed until you started to go limp in his arms, unable to withstand the assault any longer. His fingers slowed down and he took the opportunity to smack a kiss against your lips.

"Just you wait. One day I'll find the right words, the right enchantment," he vowed in a faux menacing voice. "And you'll never escape my spell, ever again."

[365runesoftheamalgamations]

The Not Yet Grown Works [ 01 ]

hello and how are you?

Welcome to the Masterlist for NaNoWriMo! This will be the main post to wander around and over before and during and after November hits! With the month coming for our lives soon enough, we hope to have all of our prep come into light!

We will be going the Rebel Route this NaNoWriMo, once again! So that means multiple projects, more goals than just the traditional 50k Words, and probably other stuff that we'll blame being a Rebel on to get away with!

NaNoWriMo Site | Event Tag | Secret Third Thing

The Goals

Traditional NaNoWriMo | 50,000 Words In the true spirit of November, we will be aiming to hit our beloved number of writing at least 50k Words within the confines of the month, but that is just one of many goals!

Hit The Mark | 5,000 Words a Day Stepping it up a little this year, we want to aim to hit at least 5k a day, and since we are pulling out multiple projects for this, it will be averaging around 1k Words for every project, every day.

All Month Long | 150,000 Words When everything is said and done, we ultimately want to hit 150k Words for the entire month! So hitting our 5k Daily mark and then going at it for the full 30 days! This will be the biggest goal for us, and it is a good strive for ultimate bragging.

Drowning The Drafts | 30,000 a Project Since we are going to be drafting out a lot of our projects - most of them being first drafts and a few of them being the start of a second - we want to add 30k words to each Project, give or take! That would be if we manage to split things super evenly, but this one is just nice to think about and not a hard definition of success for us!

The Works

A Magician And A Curse Intro Post | Writing Tag First Drafts | 50k Word Aspirations | Brainrot First Drafts ○ Original Work, Standalone Novel ○ Fantasy, Horror ○ Dual Perspectives, Third Person Present Tense ○ Mature Content: Murder, Body Mutilation, Violence

Bentley's Resolve Intro Post | Writing Tag Second Drafts | 30k Word Goal | Easy Sequel ○ Original Work, Standalone Novel ○ Science Fiction, Steampunk, Horror Elements ○ Dual Perspectives, Third Person Present Tense ○ Mature Content: Death, Blood, Violence, Demons, Monsters

Constellations By Orion Intro Post | Writing Tag Second Drafts | 30k Word Goal | Broken Scene Draft ○ Original Work, Standalone Novel ○ High Fantasy, Action and Adventure ○ Third Person Present Tense ○ No Mature Content

Grayland's Shadow Intro Post | Writing Tag Second Drafts | 40k Word Aspirations | Veteran Beginning ○ Original Work, Standalone Novel ○ Low Fantasy, Horror ○ First, Second, Third Person Present Tense ○ Mature Content: Death, Violence, Blood, Implied Gore

To Fall Without Angel Wings Intro Post | Writing Tag First Drafts | 50k Word Aspirations | Personal Gains ○ Original Work, Standalone Novel ○ Low Fantasy, Realistic Fiction, Mature Elements ○ Third Person Present Tense ○ Mature Content: Suicide [ multiple aspects ]

The Extras

The Great Motivation Experiment | Post Here! We will be reinstating our claim on this wonderful Writing Experiment that was started and spread by the wonderful @did-i-do-this-write! You can find the participant list in the link and hey, if you wanna join in, then you can! We think this is a good back burner motivation for November, especially with just getting us through some words if we ever end up lacking or feeling lazy.

Old Concepts / Posts | Poll Here! We have / had a poll going that would be extra background content while we do our NaNoWriMo updates and writings! These are more concept words and posts that are coming from our Main Blog. They have been mostly abandoned over there, so we are hoping to bring and expand them over here!

NaNoWriMo Updates | Poll Here! We definitely will be aiming to get updates going! Probably will not be a daily occurrence like last year - unless the poll decides our fate - but we do wanna let you all come along on this journey! Depending on everything, we will try to not just disappear off the face of the planet completely!

All in all, we hope this NaNoWriMo is just as magical and filled with words as everything else and all the other months. We also just want to say that our goals and works and set up is made to be for us and not at all should be a template. We have been doing a lot of writing these last years and hey, we tend to put a lot of effort into NaNo, bc we love to!

Happy Preptober and NaNoWriMo Everyone! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧

[bereft-of-frogs]

writing goals for this weekend: make significant progress on part II of my little summer ocean horror project (though part II is when the ocean becomes more metaphorical) because if I can make significant progress on that I might actually make my self-imposed deadlines for the second half of the year. Current word count is 20,411.

And yes this is indeed another case of me being like ‘I’m not going to force things, I don’t want to scare away this fragile inspiration that has only just now returned from the war, and then immediately being like ‘ok I have a schedule for the next 6 months now’.

In case anyone is wondering (probably no one but I’m still going to tell you):

rest of June (this week): get as much of the first draft done as possible. Ideally finish it but I’ll see how things shake out, it might end up getting longer, who knows at this point

July 1-5: vacation! friends are coming and we’re going to my parents house and I’m not going to look at it at all, just going to take a break and read and maybe swim in the lake (this is kind of why I’m hoping to finish the draft before the end of this week)

rest of July: second draft rewrite, edits. I’ve learned that doing full second drafts, shockingly, makes my writing better. who would have thought? crazy, right?

August: ideally posting the four parts across the four Fridays in August, while finishing up, rewriting, and editing the second chapter of ‘omens and all kinds of signs’.

September-October: y’all know where I’m going with this one. I guess it will depend on if the new mods change the schedule at all but despite not completing all the prompts since that one time in 2018, and really struggling last year, I can’t think of writing in Autumn without at least giving whumptober a try. every year I’m like, ok but this time I’ll recreate the magic that got me to 100% in 2018. Probably not! Still going to try.

November: finishing up any prompts and posting.

December: chilling, figuring out what’s next

Obviously since these are self-imposed and I don’t think anyone is like...waiting for anything lol, it’s flexible. I’ll have to see how satisfied I am with this fic at the end of July because I don’t want to rush it if I feel like it could be better. I might move that posting to September, but we shall see! Also hopefully not but my inspiration could completely vanish and I won’t finish any of this! Really, really hoping not lol. And I do think this is fairly realistic, like it’s not that crazy. My schedule that one time in 2018 was way more crazy. This is fine and a totally normal thing to do XD

[catchingbigfish]

writing plans for the rest of 2023

aka, yet another accountability post i'll laugh at in a few months when i realize how off track my plans have gone again

i am freakishly close to done with the first draft of Conversion; i'm at 57k words as of right this very second, and i'm trying very hard to not go past 90k words on the first draft (even though i think it could edge closer to 120k if i let go with full reckless abandon), and really, my target is to make it a tight 80-85k words. plus, my weekend plans to swap my office and bedroom (who the fuck decided the largest room should be the place you sleep?? that makes no sense!) have been thwarted by my fiance getting sick again, so if i run another few 4-5k days in a row? i might knock this out within the week.

on top of that, i'm enrolled in julia inglis's new shadow doll course (it's a shameless indulgence of mine) which starts august first, so it seems like the prime time to consider exactly how i plan to spend late summer/early fall and nanowrimo this year. here's my current plan:

finish the first draft of Conversion by July 31. this seems very doable so far, unless i really do let go and indulge in all those side conversations and small subplots boiling around in my brain.

spend all of august really delving into the shadow doll course, giving my brain a serious break from writing, and channel all that energy into other types of creativity. this also seems doable, but there's a chance i'll be forced onto a business trip in late august. if that's the case, it'll probably be three or four days, and i'll go ahead and do my first read-through of conversion on the trip. (i read So It Goes way too early and i realize that now -- i have to find a way to force myself to give it at least three weeks before i read through Conversion.)

spend september working on a developmental, high-level, birds-eye-view revision of the first draft of Conversion. if all goes according to plan, i'll use the first few weeks to draft new character sketches and go back to tidy up any mischaracterizations from the characters developing along the drafting process, tighten plot points that i think are dragging, and do a new zero draft based on the first draft plus any new additions i think are necessary, then spend the last few weeks doing the actual drafting for any new scenes i need (and hopefully, for the love of god, creating actual chapter breaks in there). this also seems doable.

get Conversion ready for alpha-readers and zero draft the sort-of-sequel Apostate (👀) in october. yeah i'm basically fully committed to this idea now, lol. the working title is Apostate because i'm terrible at titles and i think it's a fun counterpoint to the title Conversion. i've realized my original cult fiction concept works unreasonably well as a follow up to Conversion (and that's one of the two reasons the ending changed so dramatically), so i'm going for it. i'm not confident i can do this all in october, but i'd love to do nanowrimo again this year and draft Apostate during the month, so this is like my stretch goal. also, i'm not comfortable calling it beta reading just yet, but i'm hoping to get Conversion to a point where i can hand it off to some people who can tell me if it's working, where things are lacking, and any glaring issues i can't see because i'm too close it. (if all goes according to plan, i hope to make a call for alpha readers in early october and have the draft handed over by november so i can force myself to only work on Apostate that month! i wouldn't expect readers to actually dive in until after november, since most likely, they'll be doing nano too -- but it's just the best way to motivate myself). this is definitely the goal i see most likely to fall off track.

spend november drafting Apostate. again, the entire concept of writing Apostate is definitely the weakest link in my plans, but it would be so nice to do!

take december off. seriously, if i actually do this in the way i want, i will need *so* much of a break it's unreal.

[erinfulmerwrites]

Over the next thirty days, thousands of ambitious writers will churn out 50,000 words apiece to earn nothing but bragging rights, a hearty case of sleep deprivation, and hopefully part of a messy first draft.

I’ve attempted the challenge nine times and met the 50k goal six times. The event has a special energy that inspires me. There’s something about knowing that so many writers are pushing for this goal alongside me, sharing the experience of highs and lows, prioritizing their creative process.

Note that I also thrive under the urgency of a short timeline—not everyone’s best case scenario. Your mileage may vary. If NaNoWriMo isn’t for you, that is completely valid and doesn’t make you less of a serious writer. In fact it probably makes you more sane and healthy than some (i.e. me).

But! Since tomorrow is Nov. 1 and those who enjoy a good arbitrary deadline will be off to the races (also me), it seems like a good time to talk about how to “win” at NaNoWriMo without losing your mind or your motivation.

Make time for your writing.

Tell your spouse, tell your kids, tell your cats (as if they’ll listen): your priorities will be different this month. Set aside blocks of time where you can. Clear your schedule as much as possible.

NaNoWriMo is a great time to establish or experiment with a writing routine. Ask yourself when you get the most out of your writing time. When do you feel the strongest sense of creative flow?

Do the words flow more easily the morning, before everyone wakes up? Or do they come easier in the evening, when the concerns of the day have been put to bed? If you’re short on time, can you fit in small sessions to “sprint” throughout the day? Stay curious about your experience throughout and be open to trying new methods when the tried and true falls short.

Make every word count.

Can’t figure out how to start a scene? Brainstorm in your document. Ask yourself on the page what should happen next.

Start with “I am having trouble writing this scene because…” and just free write for a while. List possibilities, lines that pop into your head, ideas for future scenes you want to lay groundwork for. Do a brain dump of your doubts and hopes for the story.

If you find an interesting hook, start following it. Before long, you’ll probably have a nice chunk of words on the page, even if some of it is angst or lists or seven different ways to start a scene. Don’t delete anything—they all count as words you wrote in November.

Accept the mess.

You can edit out the brain dumps and angst later. You’re going to revise this manuscript anyway. There is no perfect first draft. There is definitely no perfect 50k words written in 30 days.

Also, unless you are writing a novella or a middle grade book, 50k is not a full length book. It’s embryonic, a skeleton, a homunculus, a mock-up. It’s incomplete and that’s the way it should be. It’s what it needs to be at this stage.

I think of this draft as the roughed-out shape of wood or stone on a sculptor’s table before the artist does the real detail work with chisel and knife that exposes the grace of her vision. It’s the first layer of a painting with blocky shapes, a few colors, sketched lines. It’s laying a foundation that you will build on later.

It might help to call it a zero draft or an in depth outline—whatever gets you out of perfectionist mode. The perfect is the enemy of the done. It has no place in NaNoWriMo.

Keep it interesting.

If you’re not enjoying what you’re working on during a given session, if you’re not excited about some aspect of it, use this feeling as a cue. Ask yourself what would have to happen to make it interesting to you. Now write that instead.

A more specific variant of this technique: ask “what’s the worst thing that could happen to my character right now?” Whatever you come up with is also probably the most interesting thing that could happen to them. Character torture is legal, even encouraged, in NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo is a good time to take risks with your writing. Don’t be afraid to go off outline, to try out new voices, tenses, or techniques, or to introduce brand new characters that derail the plot in exciting ways. Sometimes you have to blow up your plot to get through it.

If you have to skip some stuff, skip it. You can literally write that “somehow, they got from point A to B.” Do whatever it takes. You don’t have to write the boring parts. You don’t want your eventual readers to have to read the boring parts, either.

You don’t have to write every day.

I’m not a fan of any writing advice that preaches the gospel of daily writing, because that’s not possible for everyone and is frankly ableist. If you don’t get your words in or you don’t hit “par” for the day, don’t stress. In fact, a break may be just what you need to get your creative mojo back.

Don’t give up because you miss a couple of days or a week or even more. Although the number of words you need for the month may seem overwhelming, a few good days can go a long way. Focus on meeting incremental goals rather than the amount you’re ahead or behind on a daily basis.

You can always stage a late game comeback. Hell, I’ve made it a NaNo tradition. (I am REALLY motivated by urgency. *waves in ADHD*) However…

A few words are better than zero.

If you’re feeling unmotivated and you’re not sure if you should try to push yourself on a given day or not, make a deal with yourself to write 50 words. Just 50. When you get those 50 words, if you still don’t want to write any more that day, you can stop and do whatever you want instead.

Odds are that by the time you get those 50 words in you will have found your flow again. If not, you still have more words than you started. And that is a win.

Be kind to yourself in this and keep your promise if it’s a real chore to get out 50 words, if you can’t stand to stare at the page for a moment more. Let yourself be done. Creativity takes energy, and sometimes that energy just isn’t there. Honor that and take time to fill your creative well, rest, and recalibrate.

Find your easy mode.

Writing is already hard. Engaging your creativity is a workout for your brain meat. In that light, look for ways to make the act of writing easier and more comfortable. You don’t have to write on hard mode!

Focus apps or browser extensions can eliminate distractions like social media. The StayFocusd Chrome extension, which is free to install for desktop, will let you “go nuclear” and block the whole internet. It annoys me how well this works!

Having trouble getting to the computer? Try writing in your notes app on your phone or sitting on the couch with a laptop or tablet. I recently dug out my old Surface notebook so I could write on the couch and it’s so much comfier than my desk.

Curate your physical environment as well. Noise canceling headphones are a blessing if you’re easily distracted. Experiment with what kind of noise keeps your energy up without interrupting your flow. White noise or instrumentals are usually my go-to, but lately dance music has been giving me an energy and mood boost while writing.

Dictation to text apps can help if you have physical pain or vision problems. I haven’t tried this myself but I sometimes use my voice memos for notes if I can’t get to a keyboard. I might test out dictation more this year, though, because my eyestrain issues have been killing me.

Sprint to the finish line!

Finally, there is the classic NaNoWriMo tradition of word sprints. A sprint is a short burst of writing time in which you try to get as many words out as possible, perhaps in friendly competition with fellow writers. Most Discord writing servers I’m in have automated sprint bots now, so that’s how I usually do this, but you can also use a regular timer.

I don’t always use sprints because they can stress me out. They are effective, though, so I will use them during NaNoWriMo if I need to do some catch up. Once I’m warmed up, I can write around 300 words in a 15 minute sprint, so four sprints or an hour of writing can net me more than 1k words—and I’m a relatively slow sprinter.

Do it because you want to.

If short deadlines and fast drafting don’t work for you, if you hate every minute of NaNoWriMo, if reading this stresses you out, don’t do it. It doesn’t make you a better writer to write 50k words in a month. It’s an arbitrary goal and for many writers, it’s a hard stretch goal.

Not everyone wants to run a marathon. I don’t! Plenty of runners don’t do marathons, either. It’s not worth doing unless you get something out of it, and it is very taxing.

You will need recovery time. You will feel exhausted. You will wonder why you decided to do this.

Know why you are doing it. Don’t pressure yourself if it doesn’t sound like something you want. Also, if you want to quit midway, you can quit without penalty. You will still have more words than you started with, and that is a win in itself.

Make the challenge work for you.

The NaNo events have loosened up over time. You can work on more than one project at a time during November if you like. You can work on revisions, continue a draft you already started (this is what I’m doing) or write something that is not a novel at all.

So be a NaNo rebel if that’s what works for you! They’ll even give you a badge for it. Again, if you’re writing words in November, you’re winning.

If you want the community writing experience but don’t want the pressure of committing to 50k, you can set your own goal. You won’t get the badges and rewards if you don’t go for 50k, but you’re not missing out on anything major. The real magic of NaNoWriMo is making a commitment to writing with community support.

There are no NaNo police. Even the 50k is verified on an honor system. I am sure people lie about it but literally no one cares. (There are some discount codes available if you win, but that’s really just icing, and there are offers for participants as well.)

Celebrate the power of “no.”

Last year, some friends and I decided to celebrate NoNoNoMo – the month of saying NO. Saying no is powerful—and it doesn’t have to be negative. It’s all about setting and honoring our boundaries.

Say no to guilt and obligations that get in the way of writing. Say no to self-doubt and self-rejection. Say no to Twitter, fuck that place. Say no to distractions that steal your time and don’t replenish your energy in return.

Say no to the rules of writing—use all the adverbs and filler words you want. Say no to whatever sucks the joy out. Say no to other people’s ways of doing things.

Hell, say no to every piece of advice in this post! Say no to NaNoWriMo, if you want. It’s really there to get you hyped up for writing—if you find it does the opposite, definitely say no to that.

But you say no to everything else here, please don’t forget to sleep, hydrate, and eat—your brain will use more fuel than you think while writing. Say no to running on empty. It is just electric, amazing, creative meat in there, after all.

Experiment with what works for you, get curious about your process, and don’t forget to connect with your fellow writers who are running this marathon with you. Community commiseration will carry you through a lot of rough spots. Writing can feel solitary and isolating, but NaNoWriMo provides an opportunity to remember that you’re not alone in your struggles or your triumphs.

However you decide to spend it, NaNo or no NaNo (or just NoNoNoMo), have a great November and happy writing!

[genuflectx]

Updates

Been a bit, and also it’s good to quantify things in lists for me so here’s an update on stuff!!:

🌷 Life is still pretty busy, so I split my time between work, responsibilities, social events, hobbies, and drafting Desiderium

🌷 After a bit of a block on Desiderium, I’ve started on the final stretch of the 1st draft. Probably the longest it’s taken me to draft something tbh, I think it’s only at 30k+. Might end up being 40k by the end

🌷 My 28th birthday is coming up next month! I’m getting myself full body tracking for VRC as a gift to myself. I don’t get myself bigger ticket items that often, and I’ve played VRC consistently since last November so I know I’ll use it 👍

🌷 Slooowly learning 3D modeling and VRC avatar creation. I’ve done 2 avatar projects, 1 bought avatar editing project, and one 3D model for Art Fight so far. Hoping to be able to make my own sona avatars for VRC and use 3D modeling to sell some designs/commissions

🌷 Been managing an adults only group in VRC, including running some laid back social events (game night, art night, etc) and it’s small Discord. It’s been exactly what I was needing back when I wanted to socialize but other ppls Discord servers weren’t doing what I had hoped they’d do

🌷 Were on a waiting list for an apartment so we can finally stop cohabiting with our two college friends. It’s been 5 years, we’re just really ready to move on since the wedding and honeymoon are done. It might get slightly tighter in budget when we start paying rent because it’ll be more expensive than rent here

🌷 I have some other hopes for after we move out, not gonna detail them all. But I do hope to splurge to commission myself a fursuit and make plans to go to my first furry con, I’ve wanted to do that since I was a teenager. Better to get this knocked out before we (hopefully) have a kiddo in the next several yrs owo

[owlsandwich]

Happy Thursday! Thank you for following us (@ask-a-thon) from the previous blog, or finding us in general! Now, on to your questions!

How long have you been working on each WIP? How do you plan your WIPs (timeline, outline, seat of your pants, divine intervention, etc...)? Have you ever regretted inserting a character or plot point but ended up loving it, or vice versa?

I'm back from holiday in Wales and finally getting around to this :) Sorry for the delay and thanks so much for the ask!

How long have you been working on each WIP?

So Mechanics was technically published last year, but I still count it as a WIP as I am going through another round of edits with an editor now that I can afford one in order to release a second, better edition. I had the original idea for it back in 2011 just after I graduated from university, but after writing a few chapters I put it away and didn't look at it again until 2019. At that point I scrapped all my old work and started over, and so I would say that the project took about 3 years from that point to hitting publish in March 2022.

For Darkness, I posted the first chapter to AO3 in November 2022 and I hope to finish it before the end of the year. I may well end up editing it as a whole once it's complete, and expect to spend a few months doing so, but for now I'll be happy to say I wrote a story in a year.

2. How do you plan your WIPs (timeline, outline, seat of your pants, divine intervention, etc...)?

I mostly like to use a flexible outline when I work, where I tend to know the start of the story quite well, then plot a few chapters ahead of where I am writing in detail, with a vaguer outline for later parts. I also enjoy overlaying an act structure once I have most of the story plotted, so that I can see where the work might be running slow or where I can swap elements around to give a greater impact.

Being flexible has saved me a few times, where I have been dwelling on events a few chapters ahead and suddenly realised I needed to change a chapter before I actually wrote anything down. It saves me from wasting work, which is invaluable considering I am such a slow writer.

For Darkness, I wasn't intending for it to become a full book, and I wrote the first and second chapters on a whim. I wanted to see how I would do without plotting, but whenever I am thinking about a story my brain jumps to where it would go next, and so I always end up with an outline before I manage to get to writing it. I can thankfully hold a whole outline in my head, so only need to start making notes on it when getting to the granular level.

3. Have you ever regretted inserting a character or plot point but ended up loving it, or vice versa?

I don't think I've ever regretted adding anything, as a lot gets cut from my outline before I ever end up writing it. It's almost as though my actual written draft is already a second draft, with a lot of structural edits already done. I have cut characters and scenes that never made it to the point of actually being written.

[classictshirt]

‘THINGS CHANGE’ AS MAVERICKS HOPE STEP BACK WILL VAULT THEM FORWARD

‘THINGS CHANGE’ AS MAVERICKS HOPE STEP BACK WILL VAULT THEM FORWARD What the Mavericks did Friday was make a decision that gives them the best chance to protect a valuable asset. They switched gears and elected to sit six key players, including Kyrie Irving and, for almost three full quarters, Luka Dončić. The bottom line is that a top-10 draft pick is worth more than a long-shot try in the play-in tournament and an even longer-shot try that they would have had if they could have made the playoffs. If they are in this to win championships, doing everything possible to keep that draft pick is the No. 1 priority. It’s no different than protecting a star player when they are injured. You do whatever you have to. The Mavericks lost 115-112 to Chicago on Friday and were officially eliminated from any postseason action. Before the game, the team announced that Irving was one of five key players who would sit out against the Bulls while Dončić was shelved after one quarter and one possession in the second quarter on “I Feel Slovenia Night” at American Airlines Center. Coach Jason Kidd said it was an “organizational decision” to switch gears and emphasize the future of the franchise rather than push all in on an Oklahoma City loss to Memphis on Sunday, which is what would have been needed (along with two Mavericks’ wins) to get into the play-in tournament. “It’s not so much waving the white flag,” Kidd said postgame. “Decisions sometimes are hard in this business. And you have to make hard decisions and we’re trying to build a championship team and sometimes, you got to take a step back. “We trust (governor Mark) Cuban and Nico (Harrison, general manager) to put the pieces together to put us in a position to win a championship and so that’s just starting the process today.” It’s certainly not the first time this has been done, nor will it be the last. Kidd outlined the process before Friday’s tipoff about how the desire of Dončić to play until there was no hope of the postseason now had to change to do whatever the Mavericks could to protect their first-round draft pick, which remains theirs only if it is in the top 10. Missing the postseason obviously helps that goal. “Things change,” Kidd said pregame. “We still have to be professionals, go out there and put our best foot forward with who can play. We were fighting for our lives, and understand this is the situation we’re in. “But the organization has made a decision to change and so we have to go by that. That’s just something that happens. We talked about that this afternoon and the guys that are playing are going to go out and try to play to win. You got to be pros. You can’t cheat the game. And so, those guys that are playing are out there to win and we’ll go from there.” The Mavericks’ decision may have been made Friday, but it was rooted much, much earlier. Go back to all the bad losses they had to teams they felt they should have beaten in November, December and January. Or just look at eight losses in their last 10 games in the past three weeks. On Friday, in addition to Irving (right foot), sitting out were Tim Hardaway Jr. (left ankle), Maxi Kleber (right hamstring), Josh Green (rest) and Christian Wood (rest). Luka’s availability is a result not only of the numerous Slovenians who were at the game, but also his desire to play. “He wanted to play,” Kidd said pregame. “So, understanding that, we talked about the minutes, especially with the other guys that are not playing. That’s what we came to as an agreement. He wanted to play. The minutes will be normal for him in that first run. From there, he’s done.” This is a major change from Tuesday, when Dončić said that “When there’s still a chance, I’m going to play.” Said Kidd on Friday: “We all said that. We want to have the opportunity to find a way to get in and we want to play until told otherwise. And today’s the day we’ve been told that we’re doing something different. He’s going to participate in the first quarter and then he’s done for the season.” “Things change fast here. He’s going to play this quarter and then we’ll see where we sit going into Sunday, but most likely, he’ll be out.” The Mavericks went into Friday’s play in 11th place in the Western Conference. Teams that finish seventh through 10th go to the play-in tournament. Oklahoma City has one game left on Sunday against Memphis, but that game is moot now. The loss Friday ended any potential drama on Sunday. The Mavericks have been disappointed with the twist the season has taken since acquiring Irving before the February trade deadline. They entered Friday’s game with a 9-16 record since Irving’s first game at the Los Angeles Clippers on Feb. 8. They also feel like the talent on the roster to do some damage in the playoffs if they could have gotten there. Last year, they got hot a tthe right time and reached the Western Conference finals. This year, there will be no such run. Kidd said changes will be coming, as they do every offseason. It’s just going to start a lot earlier than the Mavericks had hoped it would. Read the full article

[waithyuck]

smile

***part of the nct almost collab by @hyucksie***

pairing: zhong chenle x reader (f)

genre: ANGST, a single grain of fluff

word count: 7k

warnings: swearing, depictions of depression, overall sadness, frustration/anger, the reader is sort of obsessed with chenle, heartbreak, descriptions of a panic attack + anxiety, chenle becomes an ass :/, forced kissing, hyuck is a good friend :)

a/n: my piece for the ALMOST collab! I hope you all enjoy this mess of feelings 🥴 idk if this is actually good or not but I think I’m happy with the way it turned out ??? idk anyway enjoy lmao

———

Ever since you could remember, you’ve had a crush on Chenle.

Literally ever since you could remember, considering he’s been in your life since you were five years old.

Classic boy next door trope, you could say.

You attended the same school and even shared classes together throughout your elementary and middle school years. High school obviously had a lot more freedom, giving you the opportunity to pick and choose classes that suited your interests. naturally, that pulled the two of you apart in a certain sense.

You could recall one instance in the very beginning of your freshman year where you caught Chenle and some random girl kissing behind the bleachers. It tore you apart inside, so young a fragile at the time, but you threw on a smile like you always tended to do, and let out a quick and airy apology before running off into the safety of Donghyuck’s arms.

Nonetheless, you and Chenle were pretty damn close; kind of like those best friends you see in books or stories...except that in fiction they usually end up together, and you and Chenle, well...haven’t yet.

You still had hope though, that maybe he felt the same way you did for him. You held onto that hope and cherished it, considering it was the only reason you could get up and face the world on most days.

Yeah, you knew it was pathetic. at least you could acknowledge the fact that relying on feelings from a boy you liked was incredibly stupid, but hey, you had the brain of a senior in high school.

Anyway, you and Chenle were very friendly toward each other, and of course you would talk to each other out your individual windows sometimes late at night, but it wasn’t like those stories people read online. You were simply really good friends; nothing like brother and sister, but certainly not anything more than just friends.

You’d say you probably know more about Chenle than most; besides your shared friends Donghyuck (who was already in university, and your closest friend next to Chenle) and Jisung (who was just a tad bit younger and too shy to really hold a conversation with you). You paid close attention to him because, well, who doesn’t want to know everything about the person they’re crushing on?

Even so, it was definitely a given that Chenle was extremely passionate about his schoolwork and his future career. This kid wanted to be the ‘best lawyer the world has ever seen’, according to himself. You were always supportive of him, egging him on when the workload got to him and assuring him that everything would be okay in the end, even when he was exhausted from all his extracurricular activities and volunteering. Chenle seriously seemed like he would work himself to death.

You never really fully processed what him being passionate about his future would mean for you, and how it would affect your relationship and friendship with him. You didn’t even know that he applied to universities at all (since he didn’t tell you and you were kind of oblivious, to be honest), let alone which ones he strived for.

Fast forward to the present, it was currently the middle of November and school was going full swing, your senior year of high school passing by like a breeze. You were currently hanging out with Donghyuck, who was in town for the weekend from his university in the next city over. It was always nice to see him, his presence always putting a smile on your face.

You both sat at a window seat in the middle of a fairly busy restaurant, joking with each other and picking at your food lightly as you conversed. It grew silent for a moment, your chuckles dying down from some stupid attempt at a joke by Hyuck, before he broke it.

“Did you hear that Chenle got into Harvard?” Donghyuck absentmindedly spoke quietly, picking at the salad seated in front of him on the restaurant table. “Full fucking ride.” He didn’t even look up to meet your now bulging eyes.

Your blood ran ice cold as your heart began to seemingly stop beating, freezing just like your veins.

“He what?” you practically screeched, causing the boy across from you to jump slightly.

Hyuck looked at you then, his cheeks filled with food as he grasped his chest dramatically.

“Uh yeah?” he replied like it was obvious. “He’s really passionate about his career choice, you know.”

“Of course I know!” you shrieked at him, your hands going up to pull at your hair exasperatedly. You chewed your lip, your heart pounding and squeezing in your chest at the notion of Chenle’s inevitable departure from your life. “What, you think I wouldn’t know that the boy I’ve known since I was a LITERAL CHILD, isn’t passionate about his future?!”

Donghyuck was now looking around the both of you, taking notice of the strangers who were now staring at your visibly panicked form.

“Y/N, calm down, please–“

“I’m calm! I’m perfectly fine! ahah,” you chewed on your nails frantically as you tried to quiet your mouth and your mind, your leg shaking nonstop under the table, causing the silverware to shake.

You distracted yourself by looking out the window to your immediate left, trying to watch the people walk by like it was some sort of therapy for your bustling thoughts.

“Why didn’t he tell us he was applying to–“ you cut yourself off quietly, stopping your question short. ”...How does he know already?” you asked, your voice small.

“Early action or some shit, I guess.”

It was quiet for a few minutes between you both; Hyuck continued to munch on his salad and you could feel his eye warily watching you as you chewed your nails to nubs.

“...Are you okay?” he finally questioned, his voice comforting as he pulled you from out of your own head.

“Just,” you bit your lip, your eyes spaced out as you stared down at the floor. “Why couldn’t he have picked a school around here?” Your voice was small and quiet, and you could hear the boy across from you sigh. “Why couldn’t he just do that, like you?”

He didn’t really say anything then, picking up the fact that those were most definitely rhetorical questions. You didn’t touch any more of your food, your stomach tied up in knots, making you feel sick.

“Y/N...”

You didn’t look at him, your face hot with embarrassment from how much pain your heart was actually feeling at the news that Chenle, the boy you have loved for years, would be leaving you.

“He’s really excited about this...you…” he trailed off, trying to pick his next words carefully. “You need to show him some support, even though I know it hurts you.”

You knew that deep down, Hyuck was absolutely right. What kind of friend would you be if you were selfish and kept yourself wrapped up in your own feelings? You sniffled and picked your head back up, finally looking at him.

“You’re right. you are absolutely right.” you finally breathed out, trying to slowly calm your aching anxiety. “Just like always, Hyuck.” You cracked a slight smile then, and he returned it, seeming relieved that you snapped out of your panic, even if it was just a little bit.

“At least you can acknowledge it, angel.” He sent you a wink along with the pet name, and you jokingly gagged, which caused the both of you to laugh.

With the mood seemingly lifted, you were able to enjoy the rest of your time with Donghyuck, even if the anxiety of Chenle leaving was still a heavy presence in the back of your reeling mind.

——

That same night, you laid yourself across your pillows and stared up at the ceiling, not even bothering to change out of your slightly uncomfortable jeans. The lights were on and all was quiet as you laid trapped in your own thoughts, the inevitable scene of your crush of many, many years leaving replaying on loop inside your head.

You tried to distract yourself by working on some miscellaneous homework assignments, trying to get your work done as quickly and efficiently as possible.

You were just getting in the flow of writing a rough draft for an essay when you heard your mother yell up the steps at you.

“Y/N!” she called, startling you. when you replied with a ‘Yeah?’ she continued, “Chenle is here, I’m sending him up!”

Your heart jumped and you quickly shot up from your bed, trying to get rid of any clothes strewn around your floor to at least make your room somewhat presentable. As you slammed the hamper lid shut, you heard a small knock on the door before Chenle let himself in, already beaming at you.

“Y/N, I have some awesome news!” he immediately spoke, shutting the door behind him. You will yourself not to let your heart sink, already knowing what he wanted to share with you he reached behind him to grab his book bag, and once it was in his grasp he set it on the floor, taking a seat beside you on your bed.

You tried not to let your heart race as his shoulder brushed against yours, and you tried to convert up your nerves by giving him a smile in return. Chenle rummaged through his back before angrily grunting, turning to face you.

“I left something at home that I wanted to show you, shit,” he murmured, his hand coming up to swipe over his face. “I can go grab it real quick–“

“Let’s just go to your room, it’s literally right across. We can climb,” you suggested, wanting to escape the suffocating warmth of your own bedroom. Plus, you were always more comfortable sitting on his mattress anyway. “It’ll be fun, like when we were younger.”

You two both grinned at each other then, Chenle nodding his head in compliance as you both stood, preparing yourselves for the leap out of your bedroom window.

You didn’t bother with a jacket; you were only going to be out in the cold for about five minutes tops, anyway. You allowed him to go first, his body jumping out and landing on the roof of your shed with ease. You quickly followed suit, landing a little rough but still in one piece, nonetheless.

He generously offered to prop you up first so you could skillfully open his window from the outside, which you gladly accepted with a smirk on your lips.

“You’re the best at it.” he replied, slightly whining at your smug reaction. “Always have been. For some reason I can never get it open!!”

You ignored him after that, focusing on keeping your balance on his shoulders while you lifted the window open, pulling yourself up on the sill and throwing yourself inside with a dull thud. You heard the scrapings of Chenle making his way up the side of his house, and he toppled in not long after you.

“I’m definitely never doing that again,” he panted, laying flat on his back on the floor for a few moments. You stared back at him from his bed, giggling at his heavily rising and falling chest. “Maybe not never...but not again anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

He managed to pull himself up from the carpet, dusting off his pants and shrugging off his coat before joining you on the bed. He pulled a piece of paper from his nightstand, and your heart began to pound with untamed anxiety.

“This,” he started, his eyes sparkling as he looked at the piece of paper before looking back at you. “is my acceptance letter to Harvard. I got in, Y/N!!!”

Chenle was so excited, and you couldn’t help but swoon at the absolute elation in his eyes as he went on about what he was accepted for and even what the letter said.

You, of course, didn’t tell him that you already knew, courtesy of Donghyuck. If you would have known that Chenle applied to Harvard, you would have had no doubts from the very beginning that he would get in.

Maybe he didn’t tell anyone just in case he wasn’t accepted, and if no one knew then there would be no one to disappoint.

You knew that no matter what, you could never ever be disappointed in Chenle. He was too smart and too good to ever be thought of in that way.

All you could do was smile and smile some more as he went on, barely breathing before he finally took a short pause. His eyes fell down to look at his denim covered legs, and he bit his lip as you watched him in the sudden quiet of his room.

It didn’t last very long, and he took a deep breath before breaking the short silence.

“They want me to fly out there as soon as possible,” he finally spoke, looking up at you from where his gaze was previously on his lap. “I talked to our school, and they’re willing to let me graduate early. I have all my credits, which is really cool.”

Chenle seemed excited, but he spoke softly, as if he knew how hard this news was for you to hear. You surprised yourself at how composed you were acting, despite the jabbing pain you felt in your heart with every word that passed through his lips.

“That’s great,” you commented, a tight smile lining your face, your voice so close to breaking. “When do you leave?”

A question you didn’t really want the answer to. You didn’t want him to leave at all, and gaining the knowledge of a deadline wouldn’t ease your aching heart any.

He shuffled on the bed, pulling his legs up to sit fully on the mattress facing you. He clasped his hands together and sighed, his bleached blonde hair falling into his eyes.

“The end of December, right before new years,” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, his eyes trying to gauge your reaction, even though you weren’t really giving him anything to work with.

That was really soon…

“Wait, but that’s before our semester ends—“

“I know.” he cut you off, smiling brightly. “Like I said, the school is alright with this all happening. They’re really happy for me.”

You sighed, nodding in understanding. It was silent for a moment once more between the two of you; only the sounds of distant cars driving down the otherwise quiet street could be heard for a few moments.

“I just want you to know that I’m really happy for you too, Chenle.” you softly spoke, your hand reaching out to boldly cover his own sitting on the bed in front of you. He stared down at your now touching fingers, but didn’t move to pull away from your warmth.

“Thank you,” he smiled, surprising you by taking your hand in his own and squeezing it, taking your contact with each other a step further. “It means a lot coming from you.”

“Does my approval matter to you?” you questioned, not able to keep it from slipping past your lips. His eyebrows quirked up and he tilted his head a little, looking away briefly before making eye contact once again.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” he replied. “I never really thought about it before, but now that you brought it up...it really does, so thank you.”

You stared at each other then, your lips parted and dry, your brain not sure what to say to him in response. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your ears were consumed with the rhythmic beating and blood rushing happening within your own body.

His brown eyes and dyed blonde hair captivated you and your tongue felt like sandpaper inside your mouth. he looked like he was fighting with himself in a way; restricting his body from moving closer to your own as you sat there in the silence of his room. Your body seemed to mechanically move on its own as it scooted closer to him, your fingers tightening around his as you situated yourself against his body, your face now just next to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips before moving back to your wide eyes, and you felt your stomach jump in anticipation.

Before either of you could do anything, a loud bang came from outside of his bedroom door, followed by a yell from his mother.

You sprung away from each other and you immediately shot up from his bed, already sprinting to his open window from which you came in from. Chenle stood as well, looking between you and the locked door that held his mother back.

“I’ll see you at school.” you hurriedly whispered, taking one more glance at his red cheeks before leaping out the window and down onto the grass below.

You climbed your way up to your own open bedroom window, using the shed and throwing yourself inside quickly before shutting it and closing the curtains. Once you were sure everything was locked and the lights were all off, you slammed yourself down onto your mattress, shoved your face into your pillows, and screamed.

——

“Can we go for a walk around the neighborhood? I want to see all the Christmas lights before people start taking them down.” Chenle spoke through the speaker on your phone, his face not in view on the screen as you FaceTimed each other. You heard shuffling on his end as you focused your attention on your laptop screen, mindlessly shopping online for random things to keep your mind off of the fact that Chenle was leaving in just three days.

The few weeks you had with him passed by like a blur, and you both tried to spend as much time together as possible. Between having to spend time with your family and other friends, it wasn’t as much as you would have liked it to have been.

“Yeah, sure.” you mumbled, closing the laptop on your bed with a soft clack. “Meet you outside in fifteen?”

“Make it ten.” he replied with a smile in his voice, before hanging up.

You sighed heavily before putting your coat on, bundling yourself up for the bite of the cold outside. It was bitterly freezing, and you knew without your whole winter ensemble that you wouldn’t be able to feel your fingers within two seconds flat of being out there.

Fumbling with the buttons and zipper on your coat, you managed to make it outside in seven minutes even, meeting him on the sidewalk just down your driveway.

“Wow, not late for once.” he commented, nudging your shoulder as the two of your began to walk in sync down your brightly lit street.

“Knock it off, I can be on time when I try hard enough.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him, a hint of a smile gracing your lips as you began to take in the beautiful lights around you.

Christmas truly was a beautiful time of year; not just for the holiday itself, because not everyone celebrated it obviously, but for the decorations and the sense of home and warmth.

Chenle and yourself both kept relatively quiet as you walked on, only making noise when you wanted to get each other’s attention to point out certain decorations on some houses. It was rather peaceful, and your heart was swelling with warmth in adoration as you looked to admire his face, which was illuminated by the colorful Christmas lights surrounding you.

Your stomach jolted slightly. This may be the last time you see him for a while. You didn’t mean for the intrusive thought of his absence to wiggle its way into your mind, but it was too late to fight it off.

‘I should just confess’, you thought, now nervously picking at your nails, and chewing your lip to bits. ‘There may not be another chance like this, not for a while.’

It was selfish...but it was now or never.

Too shy to actually confess your feelings first—and thinking back to certain moments that you’ve shared with Chenle to come to this conclusion—you decided to take a different approach.

Get him to confess first.

“I need to ask you something,” you blurted out, your brain scolding your mouth silently for being so goddamn reckless in a moment of weakness.

Maybe this was a bad idea...

Chenle quirked his eyebrow up at you before stopping, turning to face you entirely.

“What’s up?” he replied, his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets in a desperate attempt to keep them warm. His nose was red from the chill in the air and his lips were the same shade from him biting them, the sheen of his chapstick almost completely gone now. His eyes were glassy from the wind blowing and even though his cheeks were blotched in crimson, you thought this was the most beautiful he had ever looked.

You couldn’t do this. Fuck, you really couldn’t do this. Why did you have to open your big, stupid mouth—

“Hey Y/N? Are you in there?” he suddenly broke you from your own thoughts, causing you to jump a little in your boots. “What did you wanna ask me?”

“Uh,” Quick, think of something dumb! “You know, why is perfume so damn expensive?”

You wanted to throw yourself into a frozen lake at this point, as you watched his brow furrow in confusion.

“Uhm, I don’t know,” he bit his lip for about the hundredth time since you started your walk. “Ingredients maybe? Higher end perfumes probably have stuff in them that are more hard to come by, so that’s probably wh—“

“Do you like me?” you interrupted him loudly, squeezing your eyes shut as you practically belted out your original question.

He seemingly froze in front of you, and definitely not from the cold air whipping around your bodies as the wind harshly blew.

“Do I...like you.” he repeated back, formed as a statement more than a question. “Like...as in romantically?”

You didn’t even have to nod for him to know what you meant; the look in your eyes told him enough. The pleading, glassy look as hope swirled beneath your irises, just absolutely begging him to say that yes, he did like you in the way that you liked him.

“Yes,” you confirmed audibly anyway, heat flickering throughout your entire face. “You know, b-because I think before we almost kissed in your room that one time not too long ago, and we’ve been more touchy lately—“ you would have continued on your panicked rambling if he hadn’t cut you off, beginning to speak solemnly.

“Y/N...I..” he started, shaking his head as he tried to get his thoughts straight. “I do. I really do,” your heart jumped at his confession, and you allowed it to spread in your body like wildfire. It didn’t get very far, because he continued to speak. “but I...I can’t.”

You visibly deflated; your heart shattered like glass and everything colorful around you seemed to fade into a greyscale, the holiday lights surrounding the two of you no longer sparking any kind of joy. “This scholarship...my future...it’s important to me. I can’t let anything stop me, I’m so sorry…”

“Chenle...” you whimpered, stepping closer to him boldly, unsure of how to properly express your feelings to him at this point. You dared to breach his personal space, and he watched your every move with those same, glossy brown eyes that you adored every day for so many years.

You tilted your head, your lips ghosting over his own as he let out shaky breaths, yours matching his as you stood together in the cold.

His lips were right there. unmoving, as he didn’t pull away from you. If your leaned forward just a little more...almost….almostalmostalmost—so close—

“Y/N, stop.” he suddenly muttered, pulling you out of your trance. His head drew back as he stepped away, still in your reach but far enough to where your lips weren’t brushing against each other’s anymore.

You gritted your teeth at the rejected feeling that bubbles up inside you, the tears welling your eyes before spilling hotly down your frozen cheeks.

“I love you, Chenle.” you cried, gripping the rough material of his jean jacket. The darkness of the night could have hidden your tears if it weren’t for the moonlight blaring down on the two of you like a spotlight. “Please, I love you.”

He looked like he was trying to hold himself together, his lips set in a straight line as he looked away from you, his hands hovering over your wrists. Chenle gripped them suddenly, not hard, but with enough force to get you to pay attention.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he finally admitted, his voice quiet as he tried to restrain his emotions. “But I can’t pass this up. I just can’t.”

You should have forced yourself to understand. This was his life, for fucks sake. You shouldn’t have let yourself feel selfish, thinking that he would drop everything to stay here. With you.

“We can’t be together. I’m sorry.” he finished with that, slowly dropping your wrists from his hold. “If I…” he swallowed thickly. “If I let you kiss me, I know I wouldn’t be able to leave. I know it.”

He took in your figure at last, watching as your tears fell freely from your eyes in hot rivers down your already stained cheeks.

“Look, maybe someday this would work...but just, not now.” he sounded exasperated, running a hand through his hair. “Your life is here, and my life will be starting there. I’ll be busy constantly and it just...won’t be fair. It really won’t, you have to understand, Y/N.”

He watched as your hands shook when you lifted them to wipe your face, solemnly nodding in acknowledgement to his words.

“Okay.” you croaked, not meeting his eyes as you turned to walk away, leaving him in the middle of the park you used to play at when you were kids.

You weren’t going to put up a fight. You weren’t going to plead with him anymore. You were going to try your absolute hardest to stop yourself from being selfish in that way.

You were just going to have to live with that fact that you couldn’t have him right now. That you almost could have had him.

Almost.

——

Chenle faded out of your life like he wasn’t even present in the first place. You barely heard from him after he left; there would be miscellaneous texts here and there but overall, he was right in the end. He was really always busy.

His school workload was heavy, and you were aware of that, but a selfish part of you always seemed to get angry at him for not responding to you.

The worst part was not knowing whether he wanted to reach out to you at all.

He didn’t come home during summer break, which broke your heart a little bit. Donghyuck tried his best to be there for you as you went through the motions; you were constantly miserable at the reality that you most likely would never call Chenle your own.

Chenle didn’t keep in contact much with Hyuck or Jisung either, seemingly leaving you all in the dust as he went about his new life away from you. His parents talked to him all the time obviously, and your own mother would dawdle on about something that Chenle achieved at school to you, but you’ve come to pretty much ignore everything that had to do with him.

You went about getting your own education, passing your classes by the skin of your teeth during the first semester and then producing the same results during the semester after that.

You really couldn’t blame yourself for feeling so utterly heartbroken; you were in love with that boy for most of your life, and for him to suddenly rip himself away from you like that was wholeheartedly agonizing.

Chenle rarely ever came home; he did briefly for Christmas, but then hurriedly left immediately after, not even staying for the full duration of his break.

You actually ran into him by accident one day while he was still home, but you didn’t stay in his presence very long before wanting to go to the safety of your bedroom and cry.

“Did you even miss me?” you whimpered out, exhausted after your small talk had turned into a bit of an argument. He sighed heavily, frustrated no doubt. you could hear it in his voice as he spoke to you.

“What do you want me say, Y/N?” he countered, scoffing at you as you held back the pain you felt burning behind your eyes, desperate to cry. “I haven’t even had the time to miss anyone, let alone you.”

You stood in silence for a moment, baffled at his dismissive attitude of it all. It’s like he didn’t even remember that he told you he liked you too all those months ago.

“You...” your voice cracked a little, and you looked away from him. “Did you even try, Chenle? Did you even try to find the time to talk to me?”

He didn’t say anything back, only staring at you before tearing his eyes away, his jaw locked. You felt as if you already knew the answer.

You turned to leave, but felt his hand immediately circle around your arm, roughly pulling you back to face him. Taking one look at his face, you knew he was angry.

“Do you know how much it hurt, Y/N?” he barked out, making you flinch back slightly. “Do you know how much it hurt to leave you? I–“ he cut himself off as his voice cracked, turning his head away and swallowing heavily before continuing. “I wanted to, so bad Y/N. You have no idea.”

Your lips parted in shock, and you had a million things you wanted to say, but you managed to keep it all inside as he went on.

“But I had to control myself. I already came to terms with the fact that this,” he gestured between the two of you, “wasn't going to ever work out. I figured that out a long time ago... I had to distance myself from you, I’m sorry.”

You really didn’t want to accept that apology. You really really didn’t. Your anger was swirling inside you, a typhoon of emotions building and building as you stared back into his now cold brown eyes. To you, they used to be so full of warmth and friendliness, and now they looked distant and unentertained, like he didn’t want to be here in the first place.

That hurt like a bitch.

You scoffed at him, making his eyebrows raise in confusion before they furrowed, his eyes narrowed at you.

Yeah, you were probably being a bitch for not accepting his apology, and all of this was turning out to be super petty, but you felt like he deserved it just a little bit.

Deep down you knew he had a point; his reasoning was valid and it all made sense, but when did having feelings for someone like you had for him ever lead to rational decision making?

“You know, Chenle,” you started, shoving your hands in your pockets roughly to shield them from the cold. “I really thought that we could still be friends after all the bullshit, I really did.” He watched you carefully as you practically spat forth those words, venom dripping in your tone. “But then you went and messed it all up.”

You probably shouldn’t have added that last part; playing the blame game never worked in anyone’s favor in the end, but your emotions once again got the best of you.

Smoke practically blew out his ears as his mouth parted in shock. Your heart dropped when you heard the sound of sarcastic laughter falling out of his mouth, knowing full well that you fucked up this time.

“I messed it up? Me??” He was pointing to his own chest for emphasis, and you had the audacity to give him a quick nod. “Ahah, wow Y/N, that’s really rich coming from you.”

You didn’t even have a second to get a word in before he crowded your space, so close that your chests were touching. You drew in a sharp breath, not sure what in the hell he was doing right now.

“You were the one that was practically begging me to kiss you that night, remember? You were trying so hard,” he spat, so close to your face now that you couldn’t even feel the cold nipping at your cheeks anymore (whether it be from the embarrassment lacing through your veins or the extensive heat from his body, you weren’t sure).

You couldn’t think of anything to say in response; all you knew was that he was dishing out pretty low blows, and each word was like a knife being plunged into your chest.

“Like, how desperate are you?” he added in, now moving his hands to grip your waist, making you squeak in surprise. “You want a kiss so bad? Get fucking ready.”

You weren’t sure what he meant and your brain was having such a hard time comprehending anything going on in that moment, the pressure of his hands gripping your waist making all thoughts fly out of your head besides one.

Him.

“Wait, Chenle–“ you placed a hand on his chest to try to push him away, unsure of how you felt about this situation.

“What, you don’t want it now?” his voice was borderline malicious as he spoke to you now, making you feel incredibly small and vulnerable under his gaze.

“No I–“

“You come to me and give me all that bullshit, and now when I’m trying to give you something that you wanted,” his grip grew tighter. “you don’t want it anymore? Make up your damn mind, Y/N.”

You did want it. There was still a huge part of you that screamed at you to just let it happen, but you knew it would be wrong. So fucking wrong. He wasn’t doing this because he wanted to; he was doing this because he wanted all this to end right here.

You were scared. He was scaring you with the way he was acting right now.

“Chenle, please—“

“Just shut up.”

Chenle didn’t allow you to get another word in before he crashed his lips against yours, roughly pressing his against your own so abruptly that you felt your teeth pierce the inside of yours. You tasted blood, but it wasn’t the first thing on your mind at the moment; Chenle moved his mouth against yours aggressively and without any emotion besides anger behind it, and you absolutely hated it.

Sure, it felt nice to finally get what you wanted, but in a way, you definitely were not. This isn’t what you wanted at all. You wanted to love him and you wanted him to love you...and you wanted it to feel nice.

His hands slid down to your hips and your stomach jumped in surprise as you tried desperately to match his pace to at least kiss him back a little bit. It didn’t last long, and with a strong push on your hips he effectively pulled away, your body stumbling back from the force of his shove.

His lips were red and puffy and his eyes were dark as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting slightly. You probably looked somewhat the same, but didn’t even move from where you stood as he stared at you. You felt your eyes become glassy from staring into space too long, and you felt your hands shake, but most definitely not from the cold.

“There’s your fucking kiss.” He finally said, taking two steps back. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

You didn’t even watch him walk back into his house. You ran as fast as you could back into your own home and immediately slammed the front door shut behind you, darting up the stairs without a single word.

You barged into your bedroom and without even removing your winter garments, you threw yourself down onto your mattress for what seemed like the millionth time in the last year, and began to sob.

——

Chenle’s parents said that he had commitments at the school, some sort of research or whatever, and that’s why he couldn’t stay home long. At the time, all you really thought was ‘good riddance’, but you knew that your heart would be back to obsessing over him in no time, even after what had happened between the two of you on the day you try so hard not to remember.

Well, at least he was flourishing at school.

When Donghyuck found out what had happened between you and Chenle during the time he was home from university, he was ready to kill someone. That someone being Chenle.

“He did what to you?!” Donghyuck screamed over the phone, causing you to pull it from your ear from the sheer volume of his screeching. “I’ll kill him, Y/N. I swear I’ll fucking kill that kid.”

“No need, Hyuckie. It’s not that big of a deal.” you replied somberly, sighing as you relaxed on your mattress against your pillows.

“Not a big deal??? Angel, he basically forced that shit on you,” Hyuck was speaking softly to you now, a stark contrast to his yelling from a few moments prior. “You should be furious at him. You need to tell someone—“

“I’m not mad,” you replied quietly, chewing on your bottom lip. “A part of me wanted that to happen, Hyuck. It just…” your voice trailed off, your brain trying to think of the right words to say. “Wasn’t what I was expecting, is all.”

The line was quiet and you weren’t sure what to say next, and Donghyuck must have felt the same. It was a really fucked up situation, you had to admit.

“I think I…” your voice sounded broken, but you continued. “I think I still love him.” The words came out as a whisper and they surprised even yourself, not expecting to admit such a thing after all that has happened.

“Oh, angel…” was all Donghyuck replied with before you quickly made up some lame excuse to hang up the call with him. You hurriedly pressed the ‘end call’ button and threw yourself back on the bed, spacing out once again just like you always do.

You managed to bear with not seeing or talking to Chenle after the incident (a huge part of you didn’t want to, after hearing what he had to say and also what he did during Christmas break), but when you stumbled across a post of his one night a couple months after while scrolling through Instagram, it had your heart shattering completely.

“What the fuck,” you whimpered, already struggling to hold back tears as your watery eyes stared daggers at the photo displayed on your screen. “What. The. Fuck?” you said it louder this time, with more malice, and you threw your phone across your bed to get it away from you.

Chenle had posted a photo of himself and another girl, kissing each other while snow fell in some random park you didn’t give a fuck about. He found someone else. He fell for someone else.

The hypocrisy.....he didn’t want to be with you because he wanted to focus on school, but then he goes and starts up a relationship with someone else anyway?

Maybe he did it to spite you.

At first, you felt pathetic for crying about it. You tried to muffle your cries in your pillow, holding back the ugly sobs that you so desperately wanted to let out. You silently cried, your heart aching and your lungs gasping for air as you fought the pain in the dark pit inside your chest.

You began to grow angry after a while, your thoughts spinning wildly out of control as your chest heaved, your nails digging into your sheets to keep yourself from clawing at your own burning throat.

You screamed.

You screamed and screamed and cried until there was nothing left inside you. You needed to let out the festering hatred you had grown for him since he left over a year ago. It was ugly and it was cacophonous, but you didn’t care anymore.

Your parents were luckily out, and you didn’t give a fuck about your neighbors. You poured out every raw emotion you felt until you sensed yourself beginning to calm; your chest no longer rose and fell like you had been running a marathon, your heartbeat quieted to a low thrum in your ears instead of a pounding drum, and your muscles relaxed, allowing you to lie down flat against your mattress.

Your pillow was soaked through with tears and your head was thumping, like your brain was smashing a baseball bat to the inside of your skull. You breathed in, five long seconds, and breathed out, seven seconds more, before bathing in the quiet of your room.

Your phoned buzzed from the end of your bed, and you hesitantly picked your head up, sliding to sit and reach for it tentatively.

It was a text message.

From: donghyuckie :P

hey, saw chenle’s post. ice cream in 20? I’ll pick you up

You smiled, surprising yourself entirely, as if you weren’t just screaming your head off just five minutes ago. You were incredibly happy to have such a good friend in your life, immediately knowing what you needed when you needed it. You were quick to reply.

To: donghyuckie :P

sounds good, I’ll see you then :)

You smiled again, and didn’t stop the whole night, Donghyuck's presence always comforting and joyful.

You would be okay, you knew you would. All you had to do was just live your own life, forget about Chenle, and be happy...always with a smile.

[maggiec70]

Prince Bagration Makes a Cameo Appearance

Another excerpt from the longest-running histfic draft. This is for Tairin. I hope I did her prince justice, small though it may be.

Jean’s staff found a two-story house large enough for them all in a northern Viennese suburb. General Compans ordered the portly, red-faced owner and his large family to leave, slipping him a fistful of gold coins before he could protest. Mariana couldn’t tell how many coins constituted a fistful, but they produced an incredulous expression on the man’s face and then a deep bow that revealed his blindingly bald, pink pate. There must be a secret source of gold coins that only Compans and Thomières knew about, perhaps hidden away in a sturdy oak box labeled Bribes. She had seen these coins appear whenever Jean wanted to sleep somewhere other than a barn or outside on the ground for several days. She also knew only a very few marshals and generals bothered to compensate the people whose lives they disrupted or even thought to do so.

“Don’t wreck the place,” Compans ordered them after the Viennese family had bustled out the door, their personal belongings tied up in large, unwieldy bundles.

“Why would we?” she asked Joseph as two adjutants added more wood to a fire in the large stone hearth. She wondered how much food she might find in the kitchen cupboards and the spacious pantry leading from the kitchen. Indeed, the life expectancy of the well-fed hens she’d seen in the dooryard was measured in minutes.

“It was a pro forma reminder,” Joseph replied. “We’ve never been a horde of Vandals or Huns, and the marshal knows it.” He grinned at her and stretched so much that he almost slid out of his chair. “I can’t say the same about Prince Murat’s cavalry or anyone in Marshal Augereau’s VII Corps. Now there’s a collection of seasoned plunderers—as bad as one of the plagues of Egypt, but not, I think, as dedicated to looting as Marshal Masséna.”

Later that evening, with a cold November wind safely outside and warmth and food inside, she sipped her second cup of rich coffee laced with cream from the black and white cow standing up to her knees in hay in the barn. “After ages in Purgatory, I’ve been given my reward.”

“Savor your taste of Paradise, Gabriel, while you can. We’re leaving in a couple of days,” Jacques said, unhooking his cloak and shaking sleet from it.

“Why? The Austrians surrendered at Ulm almost four weeks ago, and we’re north of Vienna with no Austrians anywhere that I can see. There isn’t anyone to fight.”

Jacques poured coffee from a porcelain pot and backed up to the fire. “Don’t you read the dispatches, Gabriel?”

“Not often—they’re boring.”

“Well, you should. We hadn’t seen the Austrian army because it left Vienna right before we arrived. Now they’ve gone further north, with General Kutuzov’s Russians.”

“Who’s Kutuzov?” she asked, trying not to yawn in his face. She really should pay more attention to the dispatches and reports. If Jean ever asked her about the campaign's minutia, she had better know enough to answer. She’d seen what happened when an officer couldn’t tell Jean what he wanted to know and didn’t want to subject herself to the humiliation of a profanity-laced public rebuke.

“Some clever Russian general, older than God. He’s heading for Moravia, though, not Mother Russia.”

Mariana remembered Jacques’s words three days later. Ejected from the warm stone house before dawn, she bundled up in her heavy cloak and gloves and rode out of Vienna with the rest of V Corps. Now, close to midnight, she didn’t think Moravia was anywhere close or warmer than Russia. It was full dark when they rode into a tiny hamlet so small they would have missed it if the scouts and leading edges of Oudinot’s grenadiers hadn’t literally stumbled over it. Snow topped with a thin layer of rime covered the cottage roofs, garden walls, the rough pathway serving as a street, and stubble in the surrounding fields. The inhabitants had shuttered every window, but thin cracks of pale yellow light escaped from some of them.

“They’re more afraid of the Russians than they are of us,” Jean said in response to her question. Each word came out on a small puff of white, as her own had done. Soon it might be too cold to talk. “If you looked in those barns, you’d find nothing but old straw. There’s nothing of value in the cottages, either. If the villagers had enough warning, they would have hidden everything, and if not, the Russians have it all now.”

Mariana had never seen a hamlet this small before or so eerily deserted. The barrenness she saw in the faint snow light and that Jean had described made her shiver. This time the cold struck deep in her bones.

“We’ll be sleeping outside, gentlemen, on the other side of Hollabrünn and eating whatever we have with us. It will be a short night anyway—the enemy’s less than six miles ahead.” Jean spurred his horse forward over the little village track, and the rest followed, riding close enough to brush each other’s stirrups. Mariana wrapped the reins around one wrist and massaged her hands and fingers inside her gloves, afraid to take them off. The idea of trying to sleep on the frozen, iron-hard ground was dreadful. If the Russians were so close, and if Jean meant to attack them in the morning, she might as well sit up all night. If she didn’t freeze before dawn, then a brisk encounter with the enemy, even hand to hand, would warm her up nicely. “Aunt Lucrezia, you would be appalled,” she whispered through stiff lips cracked and bleeding from the cold.

Despite her plan to sit up all night, Mariana had just fallen asleep, curled into a tight ball, knees drawn up nearly beneath her chin, when Joseph shook her into befuddled wakefulness. “Get up, Gabriel,” he said, peeling her cloak away. We’re leaving now.”

She staggered to her feet, grabbed her cloak back from Joseph, and buttoned it up tight. “No breakfast?”

“No time for any. There’s a small Russian rear-guard ahead. We have to eliminate it before it reaches Kutuzov.”

Mariana didn’t mind not eating as much as she minded not having something hot to drink. However, the worst prospect was having to do the necessary at the edge of the forest to her left. She still thought it was manifestly unfair that lately, she nearly froze whenever she pissed, while her comrades did not. An inequality, however, that she was powerless to alter one whit.

Having concluded her business in the forest, she hurried to untie Odysseus from the picket line, tighten his girth, and climb into the saddle. She trotted off to join the aides, who waited in a nearly silent group, close together, their horses impatiently stamping the hard ground. Without a word, they swung around and fell in behind Jean and General Compans. She wanted to know how far away the Russian rear-guard was and how many Russians comprised a rear-guard, but she couldn’t make her lips move.

General Thomières saved her the trouble. “Excellency, how many troops does Bagration have ahead of us?”

While she wondered who Bagration was, Jean slowed his horse to respond to his senior aide. “Fewer than I have, even though I’m short two divisions and even shorter of supplies. Neither the weather nor the ground is good for much but a short skirmish.”

The air was so silent and frigid that Mariana heard the intonation beneath his words that often meant more than the words themselves. He sounded confident rather than cocky or foolhardy. A short skirmish, he’d said, and that was fine with her.

The encounter between Bagration’s rear-guard and V Corps’ grenadiers, reinforced at the last possible moment by a squadron of Murat’s heavy cavalry, was not a skirmish. Mariana thought it was more like a brawl in some wayside tavern, loud, fast, and disorganized. It ended before she’d had a chance to do anything and because Bagration told Prince Murat that he had just learned about a truce. The prince believed him, dismounted, told Jean to order his troops to cease fire, and went inside a slightly shell-shocked villa that had been some Moravian aristocrat’s summer home.

“A truce? What the fuck is he talking about? I had the damn Russians on their arses, and he rides in and orders me to stop!” Jean was livid, his expression as hard as granite. Mariana worried what he might do when he jumped from his horse, leaving the reins to trail in the snow, and stomped after Murat. Acting on instinct, aides, chief of staff, and a few senior adjutants closed around him like a protective wall and entered the villa together.

Intended for soft summer breezes, the villa struggled to combat the mid-November cold. Fires burned in hearths at either end of the reception chamber’s black and white tiled floor. Clear glass bottles filled with colorless liquid stood among scores of crystal glasses on heavily carved tables in the center of the room. Someone had shoved chairs and settees against the walls. Officers in uniforms Mariana had never seen before crowded around the tables, opening bottles, pouring liquid into glasses, and handing them around. She watched Prince Murat take a sip, then drain it and hold it out for someone to fill. She watched Jean barrel forward, his expression still thunderous, until a tall officer with the face of a young eagle and enough medals on his chest to blind half a dozen men stepped forward and intercepted him. Together they moved away from Murat and his entourage and stood by one of the double windows, heads bent close together, talking. Another officer approached them, two glasses on a silver tray, and quickly left when they took the glasses and continued their conversation. When Major Guéhéneuc tried to insinuate himself into the conversation, Jean turned on him like an enraged wasp. The major scuttled away, staring at the floor, his face scarlet. Mariana rocked back on her boot heels, a smirk spreading across her face.

As voices rose around her, followed by the rank odor of damp wool and unwashed males, Mariana felt the beginnings of a headache. To take her mind off it, she asked Thomières, “What are they talking about? And who is that Russian?”

He laughed, a soft sound but not derisive. She was glad since she rarely spoke to him at length. “I haven’t the slightest idea what they’re talking about, but that’s Prince Pyotr Ivanovich Bagration the marshal’s talking to.” He laughed again, this time even softer as if he worried someone might overhear. “Talking now, fighting later. Fine looking general, though, don’t you think?”

“Indeed he is,” Mariana said. With his chiseled features and thick, dark hair, the tall, slender Russian looked a little like Jean. Big rooster and bantam rooster, she thought, and almost hooted with laughter. When she could trust herself to speak, she asked, “What’s in the bottles?”

“Vodka. Have you never tasted it?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

“Then allow me, lieutenant,” Thomières said and escorted her to the nearest table. Rummaging among the glasses, he found two relatively clean ones and filled them from one of the bottles. “Salut,” he said, threw back his head, and drank it down.

She sniffed at the clear liquid. It had no odor. Since Thomières was still standing, how dangerous could it be? She drank hers in a single gulp, and the alcohol burned all the way to her stomach, where it exploded. Tears flooded her eyes, she sneezed and then coughed. One cough led to several until Thomières pounded her on the back and filled her glass.

“Quick—drink this.”

She did and stopped coughing. This time the vodka felt smooth as silk, and she grinned at the senior aide. “You should have warned me.”

“And miss your reaction?” He filled her glass for the third time, but before she could drink it, four Russian officers joined them at the table, clutching their glasses filled to the brim and sloshing onto their dingy white gloves. Their faces were clean-shaven except for amazingly full side-whiskers, their cheeks brick red in the candlelight. Raising their glasses, they shouted in unison, “Za vashe zdorovye!” When they had downed every last drop, they tossed their glasses toward the fireplace. The sound of shattering crystal brought to a halt every conversation in the spacious room, and then other Russians began throwing their empty glasses to the floor.

“Why not?” Thomières said and threw his glass toward the hearth.

“Indeed!” Mariana replied and threw hers, too.

Whatever Jean and Bagration may have been discussing, or whatever Prince Murat may have believed about the alleged truce, or whatever the French and Russian officers thought about the prospect of imminent hostilities between them, everything disappeared beneath the sharp-edged sound of crystal shattering and the roars of toasts in French and Russian. Mariana linked arms with Thomières to keep from reeling and tried to get her tongue around the consonant-laden Russian words. Somehow, they sounded more satisfactory than light, polite French phrases and better suited to the vodka, of which she had become quite fond in no time at all.

Jean summoned aides and staff officers with a sharp whistle that penetrated the merriment and stalked out of the villa and into the icy, starlit night. The sudden cold jolted Mariana from her torpor, and the sharp air stung her eyes and nose. Her comrades showed similar symptoms of waking from a muddled sleep, and she wondered what might have happened had they stayed and emptied all those bottles.

[fountainpenguin]

It’s an Update

Hello, Riddle here! I know I’ve been pretty quiet on Tumblr lately. Here’s an update on my situation:

I will definitely post more fanfic updates soon. I’ve picked at drafts, but haven’t posted anything lately. Here are the reasons why:

I got a new IRL job. It’s a good fit for me, but I have less free time than I used to, of course. It’s a job that involves writing lots of articles on a variety of topics, and I enjoy how every day is a little different

Most of my free time for the last year has gone towards my mod work at the Creature-Crossing ARPG, and to my personal CC writing. I’ve been working on new activities over there (my recent favorite being our seasonal familiar shows... I won first place in the summer show!) and I have a lot of plot plans that are coming together now. If you ever want to see my original characters and read my CC writing, you can find my character directory HERE and my Table of Contents HERE.

Once November 1st hits, I won’t be preparing for the release of any more CC activities or events. All future activity or event releases will be overseen by the other mods, and I’ll simply be someone they can ask for extra help if needed. This is a big change for a mod who spent the last 12 months working on new releases, and will give me back some of the free time my IRL job will eat

The Creature-Crossing admin (my boss) greenlit my request to bring an assistant on the mod team who will specifically help me with a lot of my behind-the-scenes work, such as data entry and organization. I’ve never had another mod who specifically helps me with the back end duties before, so that will be awesome. I will need to spend some time training them, but once they are official, that will take some of my workload off and allow me more free time for this blog and personal writing time.

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Fanfic updates you can expect to see soon:

- Reedfilter Rules

- Frayed Knots

- Origin of the Pixies

- Debut of Factor It In, my Kid Math-centric “WordGirl” fanfic (Subtitled “Tales of a third-grade superhero in training”)... Yes I am still in love with this idiot boy, expect lots of doodle pages soon

- The 130 Prompts project is on a slow-burn writing schedule... I’ll write for it when I want to, but I mostly want to focus on Origin and Knots this year.

Further info below the cut. There is more info about non-Fairly OddParents ‘fics in here too (under “non-FOP fanfics”), so if you’re looking forward to Mario World or “WordGirl” ‘fics from me, give this a click so you know what’s coming!

So, what does this update mean for your fanfics?

They’ll be active again soon! I’ve been picking at them behind the scenes, trying to build up a buffer. In an ideal world, I would love to release a new chapter for SOMETHING every Friday. I doubt this will be possible, but it’s something I would love to work towards in the future. Realistically, you can probably expect some kind of fanfic update once every two Fridays (two updates per month).

There might be some Fridays where posting an update is not possible. Instead, I’ll make a post about what progress I made instead. In the past, I often overworked myself to get a chapter out in time for my old deadline. I will not be doing that anymore, but will instead hold myself to a goal of “Make progress on something every week.”

In the best ideal world, I would love to post one FOP fanfic update per week and one non-FOP fanfic update per week. This is not likely to happen for a long, long time, but that would be the dream.

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Here are the things I most likely worked on if there is no fanfic update:

- A fanfic chapter draft that needs more time

- A sideblog profile

- A Toyhouse profile for personal characters

- IRL work or mod work may have kept me busy this week

- Creature-Crossing writing... I will try to prioritize my fanfics more, but my CC writing is still important to me and I will be working on it in a lot of my free time too. At the moment, I have a hard deadline of December 14th that I need to meet if I want to release huge plot drama on the day that it happens in canon. I’ve been building up to this for a long time, so I’m really excited about that.

I currently have summer or autumn 2022 planned as the “finale” for the majority of my plot to explode. I will be hosting a member-run event in Creature-Crossing that will last for two months, so a lot of my time from January until the event’s release will be spent doing event prep. Once the event ends, my story content will mostly be a “return to slice of life.” Stories will be more casual one-offs as characters grow, live their lives, and start their own families. Hitting seasonal deadlines for plot will no longer be so important. I’ll be giving Creature-Crossing work less attention after that, and much more attention to my fanfics.

- I may not have a fanfic chapter out each week, but I WILL post a note every Friday to let you know what I have been doing with my time. You’ll see me around. Feel free to send Asks and talk!

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What non-FOP fanfics would you like to work on?

For literal years, I’ve been claiming I want to post Mario World fanfics. This is still something I want to do. I tag Mario World posts as “mushrooms and more.” I’ve already done a lot of worldbuilding, I have thousands of words of content written for this fandom... I just haven’t posted any of it. I hope to do this soon.

- “WordGirl” fanfics are prioritized over Mario World fanfics. After I finish my first “WordGirl” multi-chapter, I will probably be ready to post my Mario World ‘fics. I may possibly post some Mario World one-shots in between other fanfic updates. Might take another year or more before I touch Mario stuff unless there’s high interest in seeing it sooner?

I also really want to write some WordGirl ‘fics and get more involved with the fandom community. I’ve been building headcanons and lore for this show ever since I was a kid, and I have multiple ‘fics for this fandom that I want to write.

- “AlgoRhythm” is a ‘fic I have already posted on FFN and AO3, about WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains in town

- 28 Cities is a ‘fic I started about Rhyme and Reason before they arrived in Fair City. I put it on hiatus since it didn’t seem like anyone was interested, but I’m willing to post more for it if there is interest in it now that years have passed and I’ve gotten more followers who like WordGirl. I have a lot of worldbuilding and plot I never shared for it

- Factor It In is a ‘fic I’ve been working for a while that parallels the official show from the moment Kid Math arrives in town. It focuses on Rex’s struggle to adjust to this world as a child coming into his superpowers for the first time (Y’know, the whole “superheroes don’t have powers when they’re on their home planets” thing), his struggle to adapt to the social world of a non-logical planet, and Becky’s struggle to help him become accustomed to Earth and learn to share it with her as well. If the episode “Kid Math” was a full-length novel about Rex’s arrival and character development, that’s what this story is. This is the highest priority of all my non-FOP ‘fics... I’ve had a cover image made for 6 months and even though I tried setting it aside, I’ve always been super inspired to write for it. If I felt like it would be a good idea to commit to weekly updates alongside my FOP updates, I would, haha.

- I have two one-shot WIPs called “Squishy Feelings” and “A Little Ambiguity”, one of them focusing on Becky and Rex talking about the events of “Rhyme and Reason” and what it means for Rex’s secret identity, and the latter being a future ‘fic showing WordGirl and Kid Math dealing with life 10 to 15 years down the road. I’ll probably post the latter, not sure yet on the former.

- If desired, I may make a WordGirl specific sideblog where I post lore, answer Asks, post character profiles [smaller than my FOP sideblog ones], and mention fanfic updates. If you would be interested in this, feel free to send me an Ask requesting I do this. If there’s not interest, I’ll just keep my WordGirl stuff on the main blog.

- I’d like to get more involved in the WordGirl community, so I’ll probably post more content and reblog more art and headcanons

I also have a handful of miscellaneous ideas I might follow through with. I’d like to write at least one “TUFF Puppy” fanfic so I can say I did. In a perfect world I would like to finish the two “Danny Phantom” and “Bunsen Is a Beast” fanfics I started because... I just kind of want to dip my toe in each of the Hartman shows once since I already went through all the effort of worldbuilding for them to make them canon in a single Hartman show universe. “ChalkZone” is another show I adore and might touch someday (You may recall I have a full outline planned for an FOP/ChalkZone crossover ‘fic called “Dust to Dust”).

Will I write all of these things? Maybe not. I have no idea if I want to spend the next 10+ years writing fanfics, or if I’ll simply be done with all misc. fanfics immediately once I decide to be done with my main ‘fics. I definitely intend to write for a few more years and finish my main ‘fics, but I might not go through with some less popular side ‘fics if life is getting busy for me.

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What is the posting schedule for FOP ‘fics?

Reedfilter Rules, Frayed Knots, Origin of the Pixies, the 130 Prompts project, and “Come What May” are all high priority FOP writings. I will swap between them depending on my mood that week.

Here are some other ‘fics I want to work on.

- If you like, you can send me Asks requesting I work on a specific story above the rest. I will try to prioritize whichever stories interest you guys most.

Snips and Snails is a ‘fic I started and posted the first chapter for years ago. I’m not sure when I will get back to it, as I ran into some writer’s block. It’s still on tentative hiatus for now..... Possibly forever, though I hope it isn’t forever since it’s only supposed to be, like, five more chapters.

Pink and Gray is on official hiatus. I actually have a lot written for it, but I know it’s a little weird to put so much time and energy into Gary and Betty content when... well, let’s be honest: they’re my niche favorites and most of you probably don’t care. So, I am lifting my usual “no spoilers” policy from my Ask Box. If you would like to ask about my Gary and Betty backstory headcanons, feel free. I will tag my replies as “ridwriting spoilers” for anyone who wants to blacklist the tag, and spoilers will be hidden under a Read More line. 

I’d like to return to this story someday because there are tons of things I like about it (ranging from Betty’s secret tattoos to Gary’s plot drama with his mom to the background drama between Talon and Anti-Cosmo, but I always feel immense pressure to make it extra cool to make up for the fact these are weird side characters, so... it’s officially at the bottom of the priority pile. Once Talon shows up in Frayed Knots and readers understand who he is and why he exists, I’ll consider coming back to it.

Identity Theft is a story about Foop and his time in the alternate dimension he was flung into following the episode “Playdate of Doom.” To put it short, Foop was abused by alternate versions of his parents in this dimension and he witnessed some pretty intense stuff, including the death of the alt version of himself who existed in that reality. The trauma he experienced resulted in his alternate personality, Hiccup. Foop himself has very few memories of what happened, as Hiccup has all of those memories. This story is canon in my works, and it is regularly referred to during the 130 Prompts as part of Foop’s backstory. It’s my highest priority side story to work on.

Along the Cherry Lane is a 20-chapter work focusing on the lives of the main human cast from age 11 to age 30, with one chapter showing a snippet of their lives each year. You see Timmy raising Tommy and Tammy in this ‘fic, and it ends with them receiving godparents. Since the 130 Prompts don’t give humans much attention, this ‘fic does. You’ll probably see it debut two years from now, closer to when the 130 Prompts is ready to talk more about humans.

If this becomes a popular ‘fic of mine, I’ll probably write a sequel or continue it past Chapter 30 and write about Tammy and Tommy living with fairies, but I won’t if there’s no interest in that.

Little Imperfections is a Pixie AU ‘fic of mine about what life would be like in a universe where the Fairies are even more like insects than I play them as during my main works (where I already play them as semi-similar to insects). In this world, the Head Pixie is a figurehead whose duty is to reproduce for the sake of the colony and do nothing else, and he’s bored out of his mind until he befriends Sanderson, who introduces him to music. It’s extremely self-indulgent and silly because I like Pixies.

Francis is a multi-chapter ‘fic about bully Francis’s life getting yet another fairy godparent in a long string of memory wipes and godparents. It takes place during the canon series, and when you see an “orange fairy” mentioned in some of my writings, it’s usually referring to this fairy. His name is Rover and I occasionally post art of him. I feel like I can’t truly call myself an FOP fanfic writer until I actually write about a godkid and their godparents, haha...

Hawthorn Haven is a side ‘fic that will be posted towards the end of the 130 Prompts, as it veers off from the prompts in its own self-contained multi-chapter story. It will be approximately the length of “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”

Acacia Arcadia is a far-past ‘fic detailing the fall of the ancient fae, the imprisonment of the nature spirits, the rise and fall of the chimera nation, the fall of the Martian genies, and the early days of the cloudlands. This is close to the bottom of the priority pile... It’s something I spend time on for personal reference to ensure accuracy in my other ‘fics, but it’s probably not what you guys came here to read.

AA has a bunch of characters in it that you might vaguely recognize, such as Ezekiel Whimsifinado, Evadne, Ione, Two Feathers, Rho, and Sablewood (If you’re astute, you might recall cloudland legends and landmarks in modern day that refer back to these characters). There are also a lot of characters who were reincarnated as Anti-Fairies, in accordance to traditional Anti-Fairy beliefs; Foop for example exists as a main character in one of his past lives, and you’ll see a hint dropped about each of his lives in the first chapter of Identity Theft. My tentative plan is to use Foop’s past lives as my central characters, following the events of each part of the timeline until he gets killed and reincarnates at a later point of the timeline.

I also keep some one-shots in a file I call Mixed Nuts and I may possibly post them someday (they’re mostly just one-shots of main cast characters I do to get a feel for their personalities, I have some Wanda and Cupid in here). @zachbrightside and I are also working on a collab ‘fic called Like a House On Fire that shows more of Timmy and Chloe’s lives during Season 10 (especially around the time of “Which Is Wish?”) No news on a release date for that yet.

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As I’ve said before, once all my other FOP works are complete, I will write Devil’s Backbone, which is my far-future ‘fic and the finale of my FOP writing. I do not plan to write any more FOP content after that story is finished, as I expect to have all other FOP projects done by then.

- Devil’s Backbone is a finale 'fic, so all worldbuilding from all stories is fair game to blend together, and it’s highly recommended you read everything else first. This story has been outlined since 2016, and it might not be published for another 10 years... Who knows! But it’s something I always work towards as a concrete endgame goal.

- If something serious comes up in my life and I officially decide I don’t want to write this story, I will post the outline for it. The link to this draft is included with all the other Google Docs links I have in a far-future queued post unveiling my WIPs in case I unexpectedly die and you still want to know how my stories would have gone, so you’ll get access to this story eventually even if I die young. Yes, share access is turned on for them all and I do take extra careful measures to be sure that post doesn’t get posted early skldfj

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What is the plan for the main blog?

Every Friday, I will post either a fanfic chapter or a progress update. You can blacklist the tag “ridlife” if you do not want to see the progress updates on your dashboard. Fanfic updates will not have the “ridlife” tag, so you will not be blocking them.

During the rest of the week, I might post doodles, reblogs, or general comments. Basically... you’ll see the blog become active again. Feel free to send in Asks about my worldbuilding and thoughts on fanfic characters.

@fountainpenguin is my personal blog, so you will see non-fandom things on here sometimes

@riddledeep is my FOP-exclusive sideblog. It contains all my lore notes and goes into a ton of depth, more than my fanfics give in one breath

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What does this mean for the Riddledeep sideblog?

I really want to go back and edit those character profiles that were posted early by mistake. The reason they were queued is because if I turned them into drafts, they would have been buried all the way at the beginning of my draft collection, and I have many, many drafts saved. There are no page numbers to navigate quickly through the draft collection, so I would have to click through each page one by one if I ever wanted to look at them. I hated doing this, which is why I kept my posts queued.

I was regularly updating the queue deadlines, trying to keep things in the order I wanted to post them in, but Tumblr made a change to the way drafts are dated and it kept throwing off my system. My inability to remember when my queued things would post combined with my busy schedule led to some profiles being posted early and incomplete. I want to fix these.

Over a year ago, my good friend Vulpix150 helped me finalize my designs for the Aos Sí and Daoine Sith. I’ve been sitting on that art in secret for a while, and at some point I plan to post it on the sideblog and talk more about that lore.

Updating fanfics is my higher priority (and it was the priority my followers voted for when I asked you to send votes to my Ask Box a while back). So, I will usually spend my free time working on fanfics unless I need a break from them and want to work on sideblog profiles instead. Thank you for your patience!

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TL;DR

I’m posting fanfics again soon. I’m going to take a more relaxed approach to posting them. I’m going to post more of what I want to post and what I feel motivated to post, not always a main ‘fic update. If I’m not “feeling it” when working on a draft, then I’ll set it aside for a while unless I know my followers and readers have high interest in the next chapter of that story. I always write for me first, but if I know there are other people who care a lot about a story, then of course I want to write it for you too!

I’m going to embrace my decade-long love for WordGirl and post more ‘fics and art or this fandom. I’ve always been a little shy about doing this, but I’m ready to make it an official fandom on my main blog (unless there are lots of requests for WordGirl things to be contained in their own sideblog). I will be posting the first chapter for a ‘fic called Factor It In very soon. Love my easily frustrated alien kiddos having a long day.

I am working on Creature-Crossing stuff too, and will be especially busy in November and December. Updates will be slow for a few months, but I hope to find my groove and a good pace soon.

Each Friday, I will post either a fanfic update or a mention of what I am working on. I will be checking in on Tumblr regularly. Feel free to talk! I much prefer you send messages to my Ask Box, not my private messenger, please <3

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Is there a specific story of mine you like and want more updates for?

Asks and reviews help me know which ‘fics people are enjoying. I plan to keep writing ‘fics no matter what, but I definitely give more time to the ‘fics that get more attention (and I have been spending so much time writing for Creature-Crossing because that’s where the attention was coming from)

It’s easy to stay motivated and get the next part of a story out soon if I know that people like it. It’s always harder if you feel like people are silently judging you and ignoring your posts. So, let me know what you’re interested in. And if you only leave Likes or Favorites instead of asks and reviews, that’s okay too! Thank you for interacting anyway and enjoying my work.

Thanks for reading!

[halleiswriting]

started back up with this story again so here’s a snippet of what I just wrote

I have been staring at a spreadsheet of my financials for almost two hours, knowing full well that the solution to my problems does not lay here. I can find a new subletter, but not in time for when the rent is due next week. I’ll get money from my work with Stephie, but not until November when I project I’ll be done with her book. No, the answer doesn’t lay in my notes or in Excel. It lays in my phone contacts, under the initial J.

But somehow, even in the eerie comfort of my childhood bedroom, the quiet calm of Katherina’s purr from where she sits on the window seat, my phone’s keyboard feels like a delicate grenade, a mine buried in the walls of my carefully constructed life. The sight of it against my fluffy pink rug does not help.

I imagine potential drafts of what I might say, picture it like it’s simply dialogue that’s sprung up in the latest book I’m editing.

Hello, this is Theodora. I am writing to you to warily accept your ambitious proposal of a creative collaboration.

Nope. Formality would not establish a boundary between him and me, it would only get me laughed at. I backspace.

You probably found someone else to help you with your project, but if not, I’ve been thinking, and what the hell! But if you aren’t still looking, you do have a trust fund, and I need money. Please donate to my venmo @bantheo.

Too desperate? Probably! I delete and try again.

Hi. It’s Theo.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I jam my thumb against the send button. The whoosh sound confirms the delivery, and like I’m one of Pavlov’s dogs, I want to vomit. Instead, I toss my phone on my bed. It bounces up once and falls on its face. Same.

I can physically feel the seconds passing by, and I feel even more nauseous knowing that I’ll probably be waiting around awhile. Jude is not someone glued to their phone. All he seems to do is give people his undivided attention. It might be hours until—

My phone pings!

My heart thumps in my chest.

It pings again, and I swallow hard, slowly bending to reach it from my bed. I don’t unlock it yet—not quite ready to leave this moment of uncertainty of his response. A small part of me hopes he’s sent something vulgar that would probably please Kiera only to give me reason to hate him again.

But I unlock my phone, and open his message. Hey, he’s written, I’m glad you messaged. Another bubble indicating he’s texting appears, and a moment later, he’s said: How’s your father? His surgery go okay?

I don’t know how to write any of this to him. My whole life is about words and concision, cutting out fluff and emphasizing the point. Digging into the truth, the meaning. But I don’t know how to write this. How to write my life as it happens. Before I know what I’m doing, I press call and hold the phone up to my ear.

He answers after the first ring. “Theo,” he says, voice tight with… concern? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before. “Are you okay? Is your father…?”

“Yes,” I say, letting out a breath. “He’s fine. The surgery went great, so great my mother sent virtual confetti. I don’t know why I called. I usually don’t continue text conversations over the phone…”

“That’s great about his surgery,” Jude says. “I wish him as easy a recovery as possible.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear that,” I say. “Whenever Dad’s mentioned you, he always laughs, shaking his head, calls you a ‘charming little freak.’”

Jude laughs. “I didn’t think he remembered me. I met him only a few times over the years.”

“Unfortunately, you seem to stick in people’s heads.”

“That so?”

“Being memorable is not necessarily a compliment,” I argue.

“Though definitely better than being forgettable.”

“I suppose that depends on who you’re being remembered and forgotten by.”

I hear his smile through the phone—and that image, the image of his grin, so bright and genuine and so sudden and instinctual, shocks me so bad I shiver. “Theodora. You called me. Did you want to talk about the pros and cons of being buried in an unmarked grave, or was there something else?”

“What morbid phrasing,” I say, deflecting.

“What can I say? I’m very morbid. I hear women are into rendezvous in their family cemetery plots these days.”

“These days—yes, I can’t believe it’s 1814 already.”

“Theo,” he says again, his smile still in his voice. A waiting sort of smile.

I sigh, covering my face with my hand. “If I say what I need to say, I feel like you’re going to gloat and rub it in my face.”

“I won’t,” he says softly. “I meant it when I said I want to be your friend.”

“Okay,” I say. “So. I’ve thought about it, and if we’re being completely transparent, I don’t have enough money to pay my rent for the next few months since my subletter is moving out early, and as your project sounds mildly interesting, I want to accept your offer. Working with you doesn’t… it doesn’t sound awful.”

For a second, he doesn’t say anything, and in that slight pause of silence, I am terrified that he didn’t really mean it, that the magazine isn’t really all that important, or that he was joking, or that he already found someone else, and I’m about to say SIKE and hang up, but then, then Jude laughs.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he says. “I really didn’t think you would say yes. I hoped you would, but… I thought my apology came too late.”

This time, I don’t respond immediately. I swallow thickly. “It didn’t come too late.”

“It should’ve come earlier,” he says.

“Well, you can make it up to me by not squinching me on my salary,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “But we should probably meet up and discuss the specifics. What you want my role to be here. What you have in mind for all of… whatever this is.”

“Of course,” he rushes to say. “When do you want to meet?”

I open my calendar, and I bite my lip. “If you’re still dying to buy me lunch, then I suppose tomorrow works.”

“I would absolutely love to buy you lunch,” he says in earnest.

“One o’clock,” I say, clutching my hand to my chest. “The Lilac House. Bring a friendship ring.”

And I see that smile ignite in my mind all over again. The shiver comes like a somersault. “I won’t be late.”

Exactly what I’m afraid of.

taglist: @muddshadow​ @kainablue​

[ahiddenpath]

End of Year Thoughts/New Year Thoughts

2021 feels lost to me in a way that...  Honestly, I think no other year has before.  It feel baffling to try to look back, and difficult to look forward.  I very much doubt I’m alone in this uncomfortable sensation, lol!  

Read on for some old year/new year thoughts.

I remember 2020, watching the death count rise, feeling shocked, afraid, mourning the numbers.  I don’t remember when I grew numb to it.  Point is, 2020 isn’t a blank in my mind, although what I do remember is...  Scary?  Awful?  Like, it was Bad Times, but-

I, uh, I don’t really remember 2021?????  It’s December?  It must have happened?  Uh, yikes.  I can tell you a few things:

I got together with friends for a getaway in August- we met at an isolated beach house, one of three buildings on a peninsula.  It was wonderful to see them, but kind of a weird vacation, lol!  Not much to do, and it was a bajillion degrees in mosquito hell.

I had a tough time at work- I covered for a direct coworker for about six weeks total for covid reasons (he lost school and daycare due to outbreaks or had to quarantine himself several times).  I basically covered a maternity leave, lol, except it was broken up, unpredictable, and the work was never scaled down to accommodate for someone being out.  Basically, it was a rough year at work, and I will unfortunately have to look for a new place soon.  It’s not making sense to stay where I am.

Um, I must have done some writing?  That feels like so long ago...  Was this the year I brought back Four Years?  Yes, it looks like I raised it from the dead in January 2021.  I published Ladybug House this year, and I posted a few chapters of Tri: Integrity Lens, too.  This is actually...  A lot of updates!  Wow.  Of course, I’ve been working on Puits d’Amour in the background, too.  I think I did some drawing, too?  Definitely a few Four Years profiles.  I still need to do Mimi and Matt.  Am I doing Hana?

Man, I just can’t tell you much about 2021.  I should look ahead, but...  I don’t really know...  What to expect in 2022.  It sounds like I want a new job.  As far as things I know for sure, I want to feel more healthy.  My health was a mess from mid November on.  Did I tell you guys about it?  My back started convulsing during my period in mid November, and it threw my back out for the week that I was supposed to be off and playing.  I spent it in pain instead, and I couldn’t get any medical help- everyone said they were full up and tried to direct me to another kind of doctor.  Honestly, it was scary and frustrating.  It made me feel like I’m on my own for medical needs, so, uh...  I had best take care of my body.

So my biggest goal is to... try to be healthier.  I’ve gained weight since the pandemic started, I haven’t been exercising or eating well lately, and I physically feel the impact.  I feel intimidated, though, because I need to job hunt, and that’s always been awful.  

Hmm...  I think, as the pandemic drags on...  The weight of it increases.  I don’t go out just for the heck of it anymore, because there’s a risk there.  Someone said to me that the only thing we leave the house for these days is work, and like-  Oh.  Oh.  Shit, dude.  You’re right.  The strain, the fatigue, the internalized anxiety and tension has to be common.

So...  Take care of myself.  That’s it, that’s the goal.  Eat the foods that are good for the body.  Exercise.  Sleep.  Rest.  Fill my cup- which means creating.  I don’t care how much I create, just that doing so helps take care of me.  I’d like to read a few books on my list, too, starting with Fire and Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones.

As for what, I’ve been working on Puits d’Amour every day!  Currently, there is at least a first draft for 12 updates, and I’ve done a ton of editing on the first three.  At two updates per month, that will take me through half the year- but it isn’t ready yet.  I’ll be editing and drawing for it in January, and I hope to publish in February.  I haven’t thought beyond that, although I have been thinking of working on a fantasy story starring Koushiro and Yamato, set in The Elder Scrolls universe...  Maybe for Nanowrimo 2022?  My goal would be to strip it to its key components and write it all in November, but boy howdy, have I said that before and been extremely wrong.

I haven’t touched tarot in months.  I should do year end and new year spreads!  Maybe I’ll share those.

I hope you’re all doing well.  Good health and happiness to you in the new year, my friends.

[lauramkaye]

Invisible Writing: or, I’m Still Here!

So recently someone wrote me a really sweet and much appreciated feedback email. It really made my day, but one line of it kind of took me aback - they said something like “since you aren’t very active anymore” (or it might have been “since you aren’t posting much anymore” or something like that.)

And I was like... what? what are you talking about, I’m writing all the time? I mean, there were a few months when I didn’t do anything but work OT because of COVID but other than that??

And then I thought some more about what I’ve been working on recently and I realized what’s happened: I’ve been writing a ton, I just haven’t FINISHED much in a while, because all my stuff in progress is long.

I haven’t posted anything yet in 2020. I posted four things in 2019: 

A Little World Made Cunningly (just under 50,000 words, posted in chapters from November 2018 to February 2019) 

Love Vaster than Empires, Chapter 1 (just under 10,000 words, posted April 2019)

My Heart In Hiding, Chapter 13 (just under 25,000 words, posted September 2019)

Love of a Particular Kind (just under 60,000 words, posted in chapters from August 2019 to October 2019.)

So, I can see where it looks like I haven’t done anything for nearly a year! But that’s because most of what I’ve been writing is on novel or novella-length stories.

A brief digression about my personal philosophy of works in progress: in general, I don’t start posting a work until the first draft is finished. Then I post it either after beta and revisions are done (one-shots), or chapter by chapter as I finish beta and revisions for each chapter (multi-chaptered works.) The only exceptions to this are My Heart In Hiding  and Love Vaster Than Empires. My Heart In Hiding is plotted and outlined at a high level but it’s so long I’m posting it as a serialized novel; fine points in the story and in the outline change as I actually write the chapters and see how the high-level ideas work out in practice. Love Vaster Than Empires, like All Our Strength and All Our Sweetness before it, is more of a short story anthology than a single work, and I chose to publish those as chaptered works instead of single ones mostly for convenience. Pretty much anything else I write, I don’t start posting it until I know I have a complete draft done, because that way I know I’m more likely to be able to post chapters relatively regularly, since editing is generally a more predictable process for me than drafting.

Anyway, if you’ve been wondering if I’ve stopped writing fic or whatever (or just when I might post again), here is a list of the stuff I have going (this is only stuff that is both at least partially written and that I’m more or less actively working on currently. There’s more in various stages of planning.)

At the Turning of the Tide: Clint is a vampire. Phil doesn’t know. They are stupid in love and pining. Will they work something out? (I mean, I’m writing it, so duh, of course they will.) About 20K. First draft complete, currently in beta. Will probably be the first in a series because I have prequel and sequel ideas already. This will likely be the next thing I post.

Bonus snippet: He thought of it sometimes, of saying sure, I was an English longbowman and I died at Agincourt, but then I woke up again and a French swordsman kept me in thrall until I put an arrow through his heart and ran away. Or yeah, you guessed it, we’re pretty sure Nat’s immortal, there was this thing with Rasputin one time, my blood was involved, it was a whole big thing. 

Love Vaster Than Empires, Chapter 2: Phil gets Clint a Valentine’s Day surprise. (It is a surprise that Phil wears. Yes, a sexy surprise.) 10K and counting, currently being drafted. Probably next in the queue after the vamp story posts. Maybe 3/4 done.

Bonus snippet: “I’d honestly thought I had to choose,” he said. “That I was being greedy, hoping to find someone who could… fit, with all the different parts of my life. Did I really think that I could find a partner who could put up with the job and be compatible with my personality and who would also have complimentary sexual needs? I might as well wish for Captain America to rise from the bottom of the ocean and tell me he’s always dreamed of dating an older man with a ridiculous schedule and a closet full of sex toys.”

Rise the Same and Prove Mysterious: This is the modern fantasy AU novel where Phil is a dragon and Clint is a sorcerer, and they are charged with undergoing a year of magical rituals to form a permanent bond that will enable them to anchor a casting circle for SHIELD. Currently just under 30k, being drafted. I’m probably about 25% done with this one at most so it’ll be a while.

Bonus snippet: “Wow,” he said. “You’re really pretty as a dragon.” Then he realized what he’d just said. “I mean, um. Handsome? Um, deadly? Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insulting or anything.” Phil really was pretty, though, all sharp and gleam and sinuous grace, his scales a thousand subtle shades of black and gray and midnight blue, with an iridescent sheen on his wings like spilled oil. Clint kind of wanted to pet him.

Another one, from Phil’s POV: “I caught you a fish,” Phil blurted, holding it out. It didn’t seem like much, all of a sudden, not in the face of the cozy little nest—damn it, lair—that Clint had made while he was gone. He should have caught him a bighorn sheep, or a deer. Maybe a moose. Would Clint like a moose? He could go get one. Moose was a little tough, though. Better braised, and they didn’t really have any way to do that. “I mean, I can get you something else. If you don’t like it.”

And Still The Sun: this is actually the third story in the series that started with All Our Strength and All Our Sweetness. Unlike the first two, this is one long chaptered story, and it is the post-Avengers fix-it story for this universe, where instead of using Kree blood, Fury asks  Tony to consult and they wind up saving Phil using Extremis. Currently around 25k, but it’s going to be novel-length when it’s done because I have Ideas about how a Clint and Phil who were in a long-established, thriving kinky relationship would recover after the whole Loki/TAHITI thing.  Also featuring lots of Fury, Natasha, and Tony friendship stuff and SO MANY PHEELS.

Bonus Snippet: Clint stroked Phil’s torso through the thin cotton gown, feeling electrodes and wires and the bumps of his ribs. His throat ached at the evidence of how thin Phil had gotten, and his eyes stung. He turned his face into Phil’s side and breathed deep, because Phil smelled like… well, like someone who had been more or less killed and then cryogenically frozen for over a month and then nearly exploded from experimental nanobots, actually, but Clint knew what death smelled like, and Phil didn’t smell like death. Clint would take any amount of mad-science-hospital-char-stink over that.