#enough to get me through the first 3 semesters of grad school (so far)

[the-one-who-lambs]

I just realized that this past month has given me so many people I need to credit in my thesis

#hannah's rambles #for those who are new here: #i genuinely value this fandom and friends I've met through it so much that y'all help me retain enough of a semblance of sanity #enough to get me through the first 3 semesters of grad school (so far) #if we are mutuals and have ever interacted like twice. you're in my acknowledgements. #this past semester has been BRUTAL but only 2 more weeks!! and then I'm off to san fran for a conference yayayayayaay #next semester I'm taking 1 class and dumping all my remaining credits into research to finish my master's level thesis #“wait are you a phd student or a master's student” yes. i went straight from undergrad to phd track because I'm so silly like that #if we've made each other's acquaintance I'm formally recognizing u and your tangential contributions to science #put that on ur resume lmao

[insult-2-injury]

The Politics of Power- Chapter 1

Modern AU! Professor Silco x FemReader

The enigmatic Professor Silco takes you in as his grad student assistant. It's only one semester, just how hard could it be?

Eventually Explicit | 2.3K WC | AO3 LINK

Chap 2 | Chap 3

Reader Insert, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Romance, Fluff, Student/Teacher Relationship

Thank you to @sweatandwoe and @truthandadare for helping me out with ideas on where to take this story! <3

Chapter 1

To say you were hot was an understatement.  And the oppressive cashmere clinging to your neck and torso did little to abate the warm flush that was quickly dampening your skin. It was still early fall, the world autumn-tinted enough that it would have tricked any reasonable person into packing away their summer clothes, you reasoned.

Cruel Fates.

Damn this school for its lack of public transportation. And damn yourself for choosing to wear a turtleneck on today of all days.

A black twill trench coat was slung across the crook of your arm as you raced across campus. You had briefly toyed with abandoning the bulky thing on the bus stop bench to remove its weight, except, it really did complete the outfit. Layered you, you hoped, in an air of professionalism that separated you from the other grad students. Covered the ratty backside of your pleated skirt that kissed the tops of your kneecaps.

You’d so wanted to put on a good face for your first day as a teaching assistant, look half decent for once, and now you’d be showing up late, sweaty and red-faced. He was going to think you uncivilized.

Although, from word of mouth alone, the man was a bit unrefined himself.

You’d done your research, asked questions, read the online reviews.

Professor Silco. The way he was portrayed, he seemed one, big contradictive conundrum. Passionate yet aloof. Accessible yet reclusive.

‘Tough grader.’

‘Hard to please.’

It appeared those with weak knees didn’t make it far in his class.

But people were meddlesome. People were callous. And most of what you’d plucked off the social grapevine about him surrounded the topic of his scars. The ones that allegedly decorated half of his face.

You’d been sitting at the library only days prior when you’d overheard. Hideous. Hard to focus on learning when- And that was as much as you had been able to tolerate out of two particularly scorned students before you had excused yourself abruptly from your seat, a sickly, unexpected anger slithering through your stomach as their conversation had continued.

This year was a year of promises. And you’d promised yourself to only blow up on very special occasions.

Not to say the man didn’t sound anything short of an asshole.

Based on his email responses to you, he was no-nonsense, replying to your valid inquiries with short, sometimes one-word responses that were on the fringes of belittling. It had you wondering what had made him select you, what qualifications you'd had that had stood you out from the rest. Or perhaps no one else had been daring or stupid enough to apply in the first place.

Vander had drawn a hard line when you’d raised the idea, expressly forbidding you to accept the position under him. Hadn’t given a reason as to why. Just that the guy was bad news. But frankly, you didn't much care. You weren’t one of Vander’s elite wunderkind anymore, and hadn't stayed number one for long. You'd been too quiet and perplexing to hold onto his attention, but clever enough to stay in his good graces, feeding off the opportunistic scraps his little fellowship provided.

But still, despite your several glowing recommendations and a pretty robust resume, Professor Silco had quite strangely been the only professor to accept your application. Deep down, you were a bit stung by it, but they would have to knock you out and drag you off campus to get you to forfeit those tuition benefits.

Vander would just have to tolerate it. Once you told him, that is.

So, stalwartly, you pushed forward with no small amount of eagerness about meeting the eccentric man, and a healthy amount of trepidation at the chastising you’d most likely receive at being late on your first day.

The University of Zaun was like a standalone Gothic village, tucked away from bustling Piltover in a valley between two mountain ranges, shrouded always in a translucent fog. Obscured by high peaks from East to West, the sun just barely touched here, glinting brilliantly across the tops of the University’s towering, spired architecture.

The rose windows. The jutting stone buttresses. The vaulted arches that made you feel so deliciously small. It was like walking across the courtyard of a stately castle.

Some people found it dreary here. You found it rather cozy.

The only thing you had time to relish in right now, however, was the temperature drop as you booked it across campus, the sweat cooling on your skin.

Yanking open the giant oak doors of the social sciences building, you shoved your way through several perturbed students, searching as you went. There were no numbered doors here, no, that would be much too tacky. Instead, adjacent to each door there were gold-embossed plaques etched with class names, in no discernible order. Frankly, you’d always found them stupid. And haughty.

Anthropology 101, no. Economics, definitely no.

Bingo. Political Theory.

There was no sliver of window to peek through, but a deep, melodic voice drifted from inside. Made you want to just stand there and listen for a while. But you couldn’t.

You flung your coat on haphazardly, cinching it tightly around your waist, and wiped a bead of sweat off your brow.

You turned the handle as quiet as you could manage, the door squeaking on its hinges.

The voice abruptly stopped.

It would have been best, you realized in dismay, if you had just waited outside until class ended. Followed those silly little gold plaques to his office and stood outside it, prepared with an excuse and your sincerest apologies.

Bit late for that, you thought, hiding still behind the security of the half-open, wooden door.

“Either come in, or don’t.”

The low warning was formidable enough to push you forward and into the small classroom. Oh, how profoundly aware you were, standing there, of the fact that the full room’s attention was on you. But this was no time to lose your nerve. You ignored the sea of eyes, instead locating the only pair you cared the opinion of, to send him an apologetic glance.

And you faltered again.

Professor Silco was slanted back against the front of his desk, one booted foot hooked behind the opposite ankle, arms crossed easily, yet you could feel the chokehold he had over the room, even as he eyed the intruder.

Those scars. Ruinous and etched deeply into the skin on the left side of his face, like rivers carving through a canyon. They began a few inches above his temple, clawing their way down to the bow of his thin lips.

And his eyes. You couldn’t find your way out of their hellfire if you wanted to. The one nearest you was a shocking shade of blue. Teal almost. Half-lidded in its probing judgment. The other was pure obsidian inlaid with a fiery ring of orange.

You needed to see it up close. Needed to be under its flickering damnation. Just to see how it felt.

You shook away the bizarre inclination.

You’d known full well he was younger, early forties at most. Yet, somehow, surprise lit into you anyway, still half expecting, based on your brief interactions over email, to see a cantankerous old man, teaching well beyond his years, wrinkled and scowling.

And he was scowling alright, but he was decidedly handsome in a wicked, unconventional way. And maybe that was what had you standing there like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming eighteen-wheeler.

For a moment suspended in time, you swore there was mutual surprise, a split-second glint of an unfed curiosity in his gaze as he swept your nervous form.

Then it was gone, his face ironing into a perfect impassivity as he uncrossed his arms, shifted himself forward to address everyone with an upward lilt in his tone that told you everything going forward was at your expense.

“What is fifteen minutes late, anyhow, right class? What say we allow my new assistant to introduce herself, since she’s so keen on disrupting.”

The hand wrapped around the handle of your book bag tightened into a hard fist, your nails digging into your palms, centering your wobbling grasp on reality.

“Come, then.”

It was mortifying, the moment you realized that you’d been staring blankly at him for God knows how long, lost in your swarm of buzzing thoughts.

“Right,” you stuttered, face heating up. “My name.”

The unscarred corner of Professor Silco’s lips tilted up into a smirk of mild amusement and you had to tear your gaze away, feeling like a bitter little bug under a microscope as you made your way to the front of the room.

You were good at a lot of things; improvised public speaking was not one of them.

Vander had always pushed you to practice ‘using your voice’, acting as if you’d been born with an innate politician’s tongue and were just too timid to break out of your shell. But you weren’t the orating trailblazer he’d imagined you to be. You just weren’t the monologuing type.

And granted, introductions were extremely doable. You’d done those hundreds of times in your 27 years of life, in front of hundreds of people. But never him. Somehow Professor Silco’s proximity had your mind going haywire, attempting to form words like a broken compass trying to find north.

So, after a long, uncomfortable pause, you quietly introduced yourself to the students, hating the looks of pity you received out of a select few. Your name. Your degree. Your interests. Some hilariously woven fiction about being positively fascinated by the study of politics.

And all the while, you felt his mismatched gaze darting across the planes of your face, your reddening ears, your hair. A burning antagonism at the man clasped hands with self-consciousness as you closed out with a small smile.

After a moment, Professor Silco gave a small nod, instructing you to go sit with a haughty tilt of his head.

You couldn’t help it, your smile dropping purposefully, the curtain of your hair hiding from the rest of the class the look of wrath you leveled him with as you passed. A far-off warning bell clanged as his features darkened, something dangerous and intoxicating lifting his lips into the ghost of a smile, as if he knew something you didn’t.

The moment was over in the breadth of a heartbeat.

Thankfully, a couple of students up front were kind enough to scoot over so that you could take a seat at the edge of the table. You fanned out your work neatly, preparing to jot down clarifying questions on the syllabus, wanting to be fully prepared for the semester.

Tougher in practice, it seemed.

That voice. The one that rolled so darkly across the room like a distant clap of thunder. It was near impossible to brush aside.

You tried not to look at him as he spoke. You could tune out. You’d already taken this class. Aced it. Albeit with a different professor. The only thing you needed to do right now was familiarize yourself with the schedule.

But you did peek.

Because he was expensive looking. A crisp, burgundy dress shirt clung perfectly to his stream-lined torso, tucking into black, slim-fitting dress pants, cinched with a large, brass-buckled belt. He was hugged by a waistcoat, also black, decorated exquisitely with gold detailing. Boots of the same two color schemes fitted his feet and a cotton, raven-colored scarf wrapped his neck loosely. 

Professor Silco was trim, his features impossibly sharp, chiseled of a brilliant marble. His dark hair was styled back, a single, sophisticated band of grey striping backward from his hairline. A refined nose, its blade sharp, cut through the air as he spoke passionately, about what you didn’t know, as you were too busy watching those long-fingered hands wave through the air to emphasize each word as if hammering them into your skull one by one.

You shook your head.

Resolutely, you glared down at the syllabus. And each time his brilliant gaze fell on you, you’d sense it at the crown of your head, startling slightly, gaze pulling upward like a magnet of an opposite pole. And it was always a second too long that he held on, you thought, before he’d roll onward to his next victim. Or was it all in your head?

What did it matter anyway?

Before long, class was dismissed and you sat as quiet as a mouse, observing him unabashedly beneath your lashes. Students filed out, some stopping to greet and introduce themselves to you. Most to Professor Silco. It was hard not to smile slightly at his general aloofness.

And then there were two.

Professor Silco wasn't paying you mind as he gathered his things in his gold-clasped briefcase, and you didn't want to interrupt.

Would he abandon you? Forget you were sitting here at all?

It wouldn't be the first time.

Facing the chalk board at the front of the room, he addressed you suddenly and your brain hit refresh on all mental processing. You were tossed through hyperspace, your name sounding so utterly profound passing across the threshold of his lips. You blinked, something subtle and strange pulsating gently in your lower stomach.

“Yes?”

He took his time before turning to speak.

"We have much to discuss."

But he was sauntering toward you, not away. 

You used your entire arsenal of willpower to even attempt to keep still as his palpable presence slowly stretched well into the limits of your comfort zone. Until he was standing right there, hips almost brushing the front of the desk.

Professor Silco gazed down at you like you were a funny little thing, perched below him all simply, and you didn't surrender, questioningly cocking your head in lieu of speaking. You wet your suddenly dry lips, and his keen eyes darted to the movement before trailing the curve of your throat as you nervously swallowed.

They lifted to yours again.

“I expected more decorum out of Vander’s prodigy.”

It was the way he said it, a trace of venom lacing through his velvet tone, that made you frown.

“Well, don't," you said bluntly.

His good eyebrow cocked.

"I'm not Vander."

“No,” he said after a moment, something about the furtive, knife-edged tilt of his mouth sending a warning shiver down your spine. "You aren't, are you?"

You couldn't speak. Were entirely mute under the spotlight of his attention.

"Come," he said, turning abruptly.

And you followed.

If you enjoyed and feel inclined, please leave a kudos or comment on AO3. Thank you for reading!

#silco #silco fanfic #silco arcane #arcane #silco x reader #silco x you #reader insert #professor!silco

[lucysweatslove]

Story time!!

In grad school, I taught general chemistry labs as a TA. I signed up to do it on a whim; I got a good stipend and they waived half of my credits (9 of the 18). First semester I taught 2 sections; second term they struggled to find enough TAs and I taught 3 sections on overload pay. I also stayed on a term after graduating.

Part of being a TA is holding office hours to help not just with labs but tutoring in general. I tutored a lot before, so not a problem for me.

One of my students my second term was really struggling. Initially, she was super high energy and excited. She was a senior switching her entire path from an A/B student in sociology to wanting to do biochemical research, and her passion was palpable. She would do fine in labs initially, although she would get distracted and need some extra help and encouragement. However, she hit a real lot rough patch on tests, pulling in a D on the first two exams. She talked to the instructor and didn’t get much help, and she became discouraged overall. Slowly I saw her lab worksheets weren’t hitting the mark. Her first lab report (of 2 formal ones) were rough- structured incorrectly, only getting about half of the material, and already turned in late (they got one free late pass).

I did what I always do: left a comment that she was a good student, dedicated in lab, but I was worried about her as her work didn’t match the abilities I saw in the lab setting, and I wanted to help her reach her goals if she would like that too. She reached out to me and we set up times to meet as she couldn’t meet my office hours due to conflicting courses.

We got to talking, and I got to look through her past tests and see how she approaches problems. Looking through her tests, I found a pattern: she consistently struggled to finish, and often based on the work she did, there were small problems with math- a divide by instead of a multiply, the right number but wrong order of magnitude, etc. Watching her work, I found her mixing numbers consistently, entering in things wrong on her calculator, etc. She would get distracted halfway through a problem and have to restart. Tests were multiple choice. No partial credit for mostly right, with lots of “teaser” answers (eg, answers you’d get if you mixed ONE thing, like she was doing). I wasn’t in control of lecture grades or tests, but I knew this style wasn’t helping her. It wasn’t showing her actual level of understanding.

I also heard her self-talk. How she would berate herself over and over for the mistakes she made. Stupid, incapable, too hard. She wanted a challenge, but she legitimately thought she was just too stupid to “do” chemistry. She would dread starting on labs, and often wouldn’t start her data analysis until the day the lab was due, getting so far behind. We would work through pre-tests and homework together, and when slowed down and with additional support to help her focus, she would do great. The next test rolled around: D.

First: I strongly suspected dyslexia and/or dyscalculia alongside ADHD. I also recognized thought patterns similar to depression and test anxiety. She was an out of state student without support; even though I could encourage her to go to the counseling center and talk to her PCP or a psychiatrist, it just wasn’t feasible at the time. She felt too consumed.

I did two things: first, I offered as many tutoring sessions as she wanted. No pressure involved- just a “send me an email, and we’ll set something up.” Second, she had no due dates for my assignments provided she kept me up to date. We met sometimes multiple times a week, sometimes over video call after virtual labs, sometimes in person. Sometimes in the help center, sometimes off campus where she felt less anxious. Every negative self-talk statement was redirected: chemistry is hard, and it’s okay to struggle. Everybody learns differently; if you don’t get it the first time I explain it, that’s because I need to adjust my approach to better suit your learning style. She scoffed a bit initially, and I explained the cognitive psychology behind it.

Over time I saw her disposition change. She was still struggling, but even her self talk changed. She was finishing tests on time. She was able to use the supports she needed without guilt.

The result? She turned in every assignment AND eked out a solid B in the full course by the end of the semester.

She texted me last fall. She was doing so much better. Over the summer she saw her PCP and got a psychiatrist and was given appropriate medication and was given additional support and accommodations through the college’s resource center. She texted me again a couple nights ago.

I’m not saying I’m the reason for her success. She put in so much hard work, and that is all her. But I am saying she needed support to get there. Somebody to recognize it, to care, to extend a hand for her to grab and realize her potential.

People do well when they have the right support. Be that support if you can.

[bettsfic]

how i got an agent, or: my writing timeline

when i started writing, i had no idea how publishing worked and i had a lot of misconceptions about it. but i just signed my first literary agent so i thought i’d share what my experience has been getting to this point, in case it helps anyone else with their own publication goals. i’m also including financial details, like submission fees and income, because “i could never afford to pursue writing as a career” is something that kept me from taking the idea seriously.

for context, i write mostly literary fiction and i’m on the academic/scholarly writing path. this process looks a lot different for other genres. 

i didn’t write this in my pretty nonfiction narrative voice; it’s really just the bare-bones facts of how it went down, how long it took, how many words i wrote (both fanfiction and original fiction), and how much it all cost. 

background

2002 - 2005: read a fuckton of books, wrote some fiction, wanted to be a writer but knew it would never happen, journaled every moment of my life in intimate detail

2006: started working full-time (at a chinese restaurant) while still in high school, also started taking courses for college credit; no time to write, and forgot i had ever wanted to be a writer

2007: graduated high school, started college (psych major), still worked at the restaurant, moved out of my parents’ house into an apartment with my boyfriend; my dad got diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer

2008: continued college full-time, quit the restaurant and started part-time as a bank teller, broke up with bf and moved in with a friend at an apartment where the rent was obscenely high; had to pick up a second job altering bridal gowns

2009: continued college full-time, started dating someone else, moved in with him, had to support him, took a third job as an admin assistant 

2010: continued college full-time, still had 3 jobs; my dad’s cancer became terminal

2011: my dad passed away; i graduated college with a 3.9 and $31k of debt; quit 2 of 3 jobs; got promoted at the bank; my bf cheated on me and we broke up; moved back in with my mom

2012: a very dark time; also, bought a house (because where i’m from, it’s cheaper to buy than rent)

2013: discovered fandom

2014, age 24

this is the year i started writing and posting fanfic. prior to that i was a compulsive journaler but had no drive or desire to become a writer, despite how much i had written when i was a teenager. it seemed like a very childish dream. at this point i assumed writing was just a phase like all my other hobbies i’d picked up and set down. 

but fandom proved to be really healthy for me, and i made some good friends who encouraged my writing and made me want to be better at it. i was really not very good at writing. i don’t think i had any natural creative talent whatsoever, or even a particularly vivid imagination. the only thing i had going for me was the ability to put thoughts into words after a decade of obsessive journaling.

i started writing in spring, and by the end of the year my total word count was 311k. i was making a decent income at the bank, insofar as my bills were covered and i had health insurance. i still had a significant amount of credit card debt from college that i was trying to pay down, and which was eating up all my extra income. 

2015, age 25

i continued writing through 2015 and went to visit @aeriallon, whom i’d met in fandom and who told me i should consider applying to MFAs. i was miserable at the bank and knew i wanted to go back to school, but i didn’t think there was a chance in hell a grad program would accept me, since my writing wasn’t very good and i hadn’t so much as taken a single english class in undergrad. she told me to just look around and do a few google searches to see what i found. 

when i started searching, i assumed i would probably be more compelled toward an MEd or MSW programs and go the therapy route, which is what the plan had been in undergrad before my dad died and my life got derailed. i never wanted to be a banker, but i’d got a promotion into commercial finance that paid decently, so i took it and told myself i’d work for a year before going back to school. but then i kept getting promoted and one year became many.

i ended up being more drawn to creative writing MFA programs because they seemed to want people with weird backgrounds like mine. also the classes sounded fun and the programs were funded. i didn’t know how i would be able to afford my mortgage payment or sell my house on a fraction of the income i was making at the bank, but i figured i’d apply and see what happened.

it took 6 months to get a writing sample ready to apply to MFAs. it was the only ofic story i’d written as an adult, and in retrospect i had no idea what i was doing because at that point i didn’t read literary short fiction. but i got the sample as good as i could get it and completed my applications. i applied to 6 schools and got accepted into 1. 

in 2015 i wrote 250k. i can’t find my application spreadsheet from that year, but i probably spent between $300 and $400 on application fees. early in the year, i had finally managed to pay off my credit card debt and save a little bit of money.

2016, age 26

the school i got into was within driving distance of my house, so i didn’t bother moving. i tried to quit the bank but my boss convinced me to stay on 2 days a week working from home. i agreed to it, because my grad stipend wasn’t enough to cover my bills, and i was counting on what little savings i had accrued to get me through the program. i still had no drive or interest to publish. i mostly just wanted to go back to school so i could learn how to be better at this thing i really enjoyed doing.

in the MFA, as you might imagine, i had to read a lot of stuff and write a lot of stuff, and was encouraged to begin submitting some of the short stories i wrote for workshop. i was not particularly into the idea, considering it seemed like a lot of work for little reward, and also i didn’t think my stories were very good.

i also started teaching english comp. i hated it and decided that after the MFA, i never wanted to do it again. haha. hahahahahaha

in 2016 i wrote 343k. i didn’t apply/submit in 2016 so i didn’t pay any fees, but my grad stipend was $14k for the academic year, plus the income i was making at the bank.

2017, age 27

i did a complete 180 and decided i loved teaching more than anything else in the entire world, and i was willing to do whatever it took to become a teacher. i realized that to become a teacher, i needed to publish. begrudgingly i started submitting to literary journals. i also applied to summer workshops and got into tin house, which i highly recommend if that’s something you’re interested in. at tin house i met my dream agent, who seemed really interested in my work and encouraged me to query her as soon as i had a book done. 

a lot of personal drama happened that year. i was still working at the bank in addition to teaching a 2/2 and taking a full course load. in summer i had a long overdue mental breakdown. 

2017 was a rough year. i wrote 149k. this is the year i started keeping a dedicated expenses spreadsheet. i spent $174 in submission fees. tin house tuition with room and board was a little over $1500 + travel. i thought it was worth it because i met the agent i thought i would later sign, but that didn’t pan out. (i made some great friends though!!) tin house was definitely an unwise financial decision; i paid for it out of what little i managed to save in 2015.

2018, age 28

early in 2018, i went from teaching comp/rhet to creative writing, which only cemented my desire to teach writing as a career. i realized i was far better at teaching writing than writing, but i knew i had to keep writing to keep teaching (shocked pikachu.jpg), so i kept submitting to journals. i got my first story accepted. i didn’t receive any payment for that publication. i quit the bank early in the year (finally! after 10 years!) and was terrified about money, in part because my student loan payments were coming out of deferment and i was still paying off my hospital bills from my breakdown. 

in spring semester, i won a few departmental awards (totaling $500ish) and got a second story accepted (again, no payment). i also got accepted to another workshop which i will not name because i hated it. i graduated in may and defended my thesis in july. the thesis would later become my short story collection, zucchini.

in fall, i stayed on at my school as an adjunct, and started writing training wheels which would later become an original novel called baby. 

i wrote 450k in 2018. i paid $373 in submission fees. i was also nominated for an award for one of my publications but didn’t win. the workshop i went to was like $4000 with room and board (it was a month-long workshop). i got 75% of it covered with scholarships and i paid for the rest of it out of my savings, and even though i’d intended to drive there, my mom ended up buying me a plane ticket. again, i met a lot of big-wig writers i thought for sure would help me get an agent. i told myself i was networking, and that publication was all about Who You Knew. but that turned out not to be true for me.

as an adjunct i made $3200 per course, and i taught 3 classes in fall. in winter, i got my shit together and started applying for creative writing PhDs, mostly to convince my family i was doing something with my life, with no expectation that i would get in. in winter i applied to 2 schools. with application fees and the GRE, i ended up paying well over $500.

2019, age 29

in spring semester, i taught 2 classes while i revised training wheels into baby. when i had a completed manuscript, i finally pulled the plug and used all my networking contacts to get my dream agent i’d met at tin house. i queried her, and a very popular and well-regarded author i’d met at the other workshop emailed her on my behalf to tell her good things about me. i thought for sure i had it in the bag. this author also touched base with a few other agents whom he thought would like my work.

i didn’t hear back from any of them. not even a “no thanks.” i set down querying for a while. 

i got a third story picked up and published around this time, and i was paid $25 for it. they also nominated me for an award, and i don’t think i won? but i can’t find out who did win so idk.

my grandpa passed away and i decided to sell my house and move in with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. i got rejected from both PhD programs i applied to and decided to get a “real job” instead, and began applying for random positions that offered health insurance, because i knew i was drastically undermedicated and it was becoming a Problem.

near the end of spring semester, i moved out of my house, put it on the market, and was interviewing for a community development manager position for a nonprofit. at the same time, i found out about another university that was taking late-season applications, and i applied. five days later, i got accepted. one day after that, i got a job offer for the nonprofit. since i had no idea how long it would take for my house to sell, and being unable to afford both rent in a new city and my mortgage payment, i deferred my PhD acceptance for a year and decided to work at the nonprofit for a while. the risk was that i could only defer my admission, not my funding, so there was a chance that the following year i wouldn’t get the same funding package.

i lasted one month at the “real job” before i had another breakdown and ended up quitting. 

my house sold for well under the asking price and i received only $4000 in equity once it was all said and done. that’s a lot of money to me, but considering that i’d been paying on the house for 7 years, i was expecting a lot more.

i had a year to kill until the PhD so i decided to take a break from teaching and apply to artist residencies instead. i applied to 8 residencies and got accepted into 4, but only ended up attending 3, because the 4th was outrageously priced and there was no indication of the cost when i had applied.

in winter i picked up querying agents again. i queried 10 agents every other week. i also got a ghostwriting gig writing children’s books that paid $800 a month.

in 2019 i wrote 417k. i spent $441 in submission fees (to residencies and contests, not agent queries. never pay money to query an agent!!). i ended up teaching 3 classes fall semester.

2020, age 30

i started out the year driving across the country going to residencies. the first cost $100 (no food), the second cost $250 (A LOT OF VERY GOOD FOOD), and the third paid me $500. i was at the third when the pandemic hit.

the query rejections started rolling in. i gave up in february after 60 queries. of those 60, i received 7 manuscript requests for baby, but the consensus was that it was too long and plotless (you got me there.jpg). at the second residency completed and revised zucchini and decided to begin querying with that instead. i could only find a few agents who accepted collections so i only queried 16. i got one request for the manuscript but then didn’t hear back. i gave up in april shortly after the pandemic hit. 

when i figured the collection, like the novel, just wasn’t publishable, i started submitting to contests which is the more standard route for the genre. i submitted to 12 in total and was a finalist in 1. i was rejected or withdrew from the rest.

the PhD program reached out to ask if i was still interested in starting in fall, and i said i was, so they put me in the running for funding again and i was accepted. the stipend was $17k per academic year.

like most of us, i got totally derailed in spring and stopped doing basically everything. the ghostwriting gig started paying $1500 a month and i also started my creative coaching business, which slowly but surely began to supplement my income. i also received the $1200 stimulus. 

when school started, i quit the ghostwriting gig. i had no intention to continue querying either book, but i saw a twitter pitch event called DVpit (diverse voices) and decided to participate. for those who don’t know, a twitter pitch event is where you tweet the pitch for your book and use the hashtag, and agents scroll through the tag and like tweets. if an agent likes your tweet, you query them. 

i got one like, so i followed up with the query. the agent asked for the full MS and a couple weeks later followed up with the offer for representation. we talked on the phone, she sent me the contract, i asked for a couple changes, and then signed! 

so far this year i’ve written 375k and paid $518 in submission fees. i’ll give more details when i do my end of year roundup next month. oh, and i finally paid off my student loans.

totals

word count: 2.3 million

agent queries: 77

agent MS requests: 9

agent rejections: 28

agent no responses: 44

short story submissions: 86

short story acceptances: 3

short story income: $25

total submission/application fees: $1472

my (final) query letter

honestly this query letter probably isn’t very good which is why i got such a minimal response, but it got the job done eventually.

Thank you for expressing interest in ZUCCHINI through this year's DVpit event.

ZUCCHINI is a collection that views sex through an asexual lens. It poses inquiries into constructs like gender, sexuality, and love to dissect the patriarchal/puritanical foundations from which our social perspectives often derive. Being a collection about asexuality, each story portrays a relationship that develops from forms of attraction other than physical.

In one story, a grieving widow purchases her first sex toy; in another, a woman uses sex to cope with the death of her abusive father, and later in the collection faces the long road to recovery; an administrative assistant seeks out a codependent relationship with her boss; a masochist hires a professional sadist to lead him toward self-actualization; a woman begins to recover from her sexual assault by staging a reenactment on her own terms; and lastly, two lifelong friends in a queerplatonic relationship decide to get married. Asexuality is an under-acknowledged identity within the LGBTQIA community and is often misunderstood. In seven stories, ZUCCHINI dissects the notion of attraction, explores the intersections of sexual identity and trauma recovery, and conveys the experience of intimacy without physical desire.

Three stories in the collection have been published in literary magazines. “Lien” appeared in volume 24 of Quarter After Eight and was nominated for the PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers. “An Informed Purchase” appeared in the summer 2018 issue of Midwestern Gothic and won the Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction. “The Ashtray” appeared in issue 16 of Rivet Journal and has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize.

Complete at 53,000 words, ZUCCHINI is a collection in conversation with Carmen Maria Machado’s HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES, Lauren Groff’s FLORIDA, and Samantha Hunt’s THE DARK DARK.

If ZUCCHINI is of interest to you, I would be happy to send you the manuscript. Per your guidelines, I've appended the first twenty pages below, which is the entirety of the first story.

what comes next

i’m going to spend january revising the collection per my agent’s feedback. when i send it back to her, she’ll shoot it out to the first round of publishers. my understanding is that the goal is to get multiple offers on it so that it has to go to auction. if there are no offers, she’ll do another round of submissions, and so on, until we’ve exhausted our options. if that happens, we’ll reassess, but by then hopefully i’ll have another novel finished.

meanwhile, i’ll be continuing the PhD which entails teaching a 2/2, workshop, and 2 lit seminars per semester. i’m also still doing my creative coaching, writing fanfic, and working on my original projects. in summer, i’ll finally be moving to hopefully start going to school in person next fall. 

the PhD is a 3 year program with an optional fourth year. i don’t see myself finishing in 3 years so i do plan to take the extra year unless something comes up. after the PhD, i’m not sure what i’ll do. a lot will probably change by then so i’m trying not to commit to one idea. i might apply to post-doc fellowships and tenure track positions, or i might leave the country and teach overseas, or i might move to LA and try to get in a writer’s room somewhere. i’ve got a lot of options.

overall thoughts/stuff i learned

first of all, you don’t have to go through all of this to publish a book. you could feasibly just write a book and query agents. the only reason it took me this long is because my PTSD brain was sabotaging me every step of the way and i didn’t start taking anything seriously until i found something i was willing to fight for (teaching). i went the MFA/literary route but other, faster routes are just as good. maybe better. probably better. actually if there’s any chance you can go a different route, you should take it.

reflecting on all of this, very little of it has anything to do with talent or being a good writer. nor does it have to do with being at the right place at the right time. i’ve only made it this far because i took very small steps over and over again, and during that walk met people who could help me -- the authors who have mentored me, the editors who accepted my stories, the agent who signed me. and as i got further along my path, i started being able to help other writers in the way i was helped. 

i don’t believe i’ll ever be a great writer. the best thing i can say about my writing is that it’s competent and accessible. everything i write sets out to do something and most of the time it gets the job done. i don’t imagine i’ll ever be able to financially support myself with publishing, and i’ll certainly never be famous or well-known, but i’m good enough to keep making progress. i’ll probably continue to find opportunities that are adjacent to writing and that will keep me afloat, pending my health and provided the country doesn’t devolve into civil war. 

probably the most important thing i learned in all this is that having a wide appeal isn’t the goal. you don’t write to be lauded or liked. you have to stay as true to yourself and your interests as you possibly can, so that the people who come across your path can see you and help you. you’ll need those people; no one gets anywhere alone. if you pander, if you’re too concerned with praise and success or being adored, you won’t make it very far. the rejection will eventually kill you. 

with all that said, my advice to you is this: never stop writing. the ability to share our stories is the single most precious thing we have. you can’t let anything stop you from telling your stories the way you need them to be told.

#writing advice #the writing life #writing update

[apparitionism]

Why 3

Nearer and nearer this story creeps to its conclusion, and thus to that not-so-distant future day when @mysensitiveside will have received a complete present! Previously, in part 1 of this AU, a Myka Bering adopted a dog. That dog, unfortunately or fortunately, in fact already belonged to a Helena Wells. Myka and Helena, initially strangers to each other, have been walking the dog together, growing intermittently closer in the process, and they are at last, following the events of part 2, about to take a step toward something beyond the pedestrian. Let’s see how that goes.

Why 3

Later, in the parking lot, “You’re sure this is okay?” Myka asked as they began exchanging tangible, traceable information: numbers, addresses. They lived closer to each other than Myka had imagined, which made what Sam had done seem even more brazen... even more terrible. “I don’t want to make you feel like you—”

Helena looked up from her phone. “What exactly will convince you?”

“Convince me of what?” A stupid question; she knew it the minute she said the words.

But Helena again took pity on her. She put her phone in her pocket, and she moved close to Myka, then closer. “I’m not confused,” she said. Their coats were touching. “Are you?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

In response to that, Helena just looked. Did she blink? She leaned up still closer, a delicate, careful movement of body, accompanied by a turn of her head not quite against the collar of Myka’s coat.

Not a kiss, but the potential shiver of one... a “lean down and you’ll find out” feeling...

Myka was still high on the first kiss, not quite ready to dilute it with a second. “Tuesday?” she asked, and “Tuesday,” Helena affirmed, remaining near.

“I like this,” Myka said, and it might have been a warning—to herself and to Helena.

“I’m glad,” Helena said, a comfort against the caution.

I will see them three days from now, Myka told herself as Helena drove away, her dog buckled safely into his harness in the back seat. Myka had a similar harness, limp and empty, in the back seat of her own car.

I know what it’s like to see him without a week having passed. I have no idea what it’s like to see her.

How long could three days feel?

Long enough to make her tell herself, on Sunday, “You should cancel.” Because she hadn’t slept. Instead she spent open-eyed hours retreading her limited romantic past: college boyfriend, who lasted all of one semester; grad school girlfriend, who lasted longer, but only because they rarely saw each other, and when they did, they were too exhausted from long, long lab days and nights to do much of anything but share a cheap meal and go to bed. Nevertheless their breakup blindsided Myka, who expected reasons but received nothing more from her suddenly ex-girlfriend than “I was into it; now I’m not.”

Since then, the occasional night with another lonely chemist at a conference had been the extent of it. That was what Myka figured she would always be most comfortable with: no entanglements, no consequences. No nerve-wracking anticipations.

Tuesday was consequential, with accompanying nerve-wracking anticipation. Hence, “You should cancel.”

Entanglements. Leuko had been one, but he at least had been very clear. Food, walks, baths. Obviously Myka’s emotions had been involved, but it wasn’t as if Leuko was going to do anything to blindside her.

Except bark at someone.

In his defense, she conceded, he had a pretty compelling reason.

So what about cancelling? Myka knew why she wanted to. Why didn’t she want to?

I like walking with her in the park.

Everything she says about herself makes me want to know more.

She is physically more attractive than anyone I’ve ever seen in my life.

Kissing her one time made me wish I had keys to a castle, so I could give them to her.

On a parallel track, there was Leuko. Monty. The idea of interacting with him in his real home felt wrong—but the kind of wrong that could one day become right. Like seeing his leash in Helena’s hand.

Would I have been willing to keep walking in the park if she hadn’t been the one walking him?

Impossible to know. Traitorous to consider an answer of no.

And would I have felt that I could walk in a park with her in the absence of him?

Also impossible to know. Not traitorous to consider an answer of no, but surely cowardly.

So in the interest of at least a facsimile of courage, Myka spent some time pondering yet another question: What do you wear to watch a dog show with your ex-dog and his person, who might be your... well, who could say? Certainly not Myka. She landed on “clothes.” Just wear clothes. Because her ex-dog wouldn’t care, and if his person did—well, that would tell her something, wouldn’t it?

Knocking on a door on Tuesday night, clothed in clothes, she was a mixture of trepidation and, yes, hope.

“Come in!” Helena called, so Myka did. To her surprise, she was received into the house by Montgomery Clift. She’d found, over her days of thinking, that it was easier to call him that in her head; its length and formality kept her from slipping and thinking “Leuko.” Mr. Clift then escorted her down a hallway and into a large living space. “Are you a butler now?” she asked him.

He blinked. It meant either “Of course not” or “I am the most perfect butler who ever buttled,” and Myka said, “You’re right,” in answer to both.

Helena appeared a second later, and Myka held out the gifts she’d brought: wine in one hand, a paper bag in the other. They had cost her far less pondering-time than the clothes had, though she hadn’t realized that at the time, and that probably meant something, though Myka could not think it through now, not with Helena standing right there in front of her. Myka could barely think at all. Instead, she tried to explain: “I thought at first I should bring you something related to writing—a pretty pen?—but then I figured a writer wouldn’t be any less picky about equipment than a chemist, and I’d hate it if some well-meaning person gave me for example a pipettor I’d never use. Nobody would do that, because they’re insanely expensive, but that’s why you’re getting a boring bottle of wine. I brought this”—she extended the bag—“for Monty.”

Helena had gazed at her throughout that recitation, and Myka had in turn felt herself prolonging it, to keep those attentive eyes on her. Now Helena said, “You’ve gifted him...” She took the bag, looked in it. “Several corn tortillas?”

“Fresh ones. He likes them.”

“I didn’t know it.”

Which, Myka had to acknowledge, made her happy. But it was a selfish happiness, so she said, “I didn’t intend to know something you don’t. It was an accident: he was hungry, and that was what I had. And then when I bought fresh, they turned out to be his favorite.”

Helena said, to Montgomery Clift, “More favorite than cheese?”

He failed to respond, most likely due to his laser focus on the now-open tortilla bag. Myka offered, “Probably depends on the cheese.”

“It’s true he is discerning.” Helena paused. “So am I.”

Myka’s nerves, which had ebbed, returned—not fully, but as a vague itch of discomfort. “You don’t need to...” she started.

“What don’t I need to?”

“Try? Like that. Like any way at all.” For it was when Helena tried—as she had in the park, with her “so are you” about prettiness—that Myka lost her bearings.

“I don’t know where you are,” Helena said. Such a reasonable justification: of course she would try, if she wanted to move Myka to some particular place, some place she felt Myka was not.

“Here,” Myka said, but it was a yearn—to get closer to where Helena might have imagined she, and they, could be—rather than the truth. She needed to tell the truth, though: “Or at least I’m trying to be.”

“You don’t need to try either,” Helena said, her tone a balm. “Let’s start by getting to know each other better. I hope that’s what this evening is for.”

“I hope too.” Myka had never said anything more true. “I don’t like that I know your dog better than I know you. I regret it.” But, “Sorry,” she said to the soft butler-or-not who looked up at her, blinking wounded eyes. Or more likely, he was blinking tortilla-wanting eyes.

“We need to remedy that. Or rather, I want to remedy that, and I think you do as well. As I said, I’m not confused.”

“As I said, I am.” Important to be clear about that.

“Tell me why.”

Oh, the invitation. How could she respond? Weighing ideas of entanglements, consequences, anticipations...

Helena, blessedly, went on, “Because I feel that if I hadn’t told you I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be.”

That was indeed the entirety of it, so... “I like that you’re smart,” Myka said. “I like it so much.”

“I like that you are as well, chemist. Sit down. I have food to cook. On that topic, I regret I didn’t ask about allergies, so tell me now. I don’t want to inadvertently attempt to murder you.”

“You can’t. I’m basically insensitive.”

“Ridiculous. Monty knows better, and so do I.”

She delivered that perfectly, not trying, but rather as if she had a doctorate in quashing self-deprecation, and it made Myka smile. “If I were allergic to anything, leukotrienes would be involved,” she said.

“Do you want to explain them to me now?” Helena asked.

It was even more perfect, as an invitation, but Myka turned it down: “You’re busy. Food to cook. Can I help?”

“Sit. You look tired. Is that an awful thing to say? I don’t mean that you look in any way bad. You’ve most likely had a long day.” She stopped, her expression devolving into a sheepish wince. “I’m digging a hole.”

“It’s okay,” Myka said to banish that wince, charming as it was. “You’re right about the day.”

She hadn’t improved much on her Saturday sleep in the subsequent nights, but at least last night had been anticipatory rather than self-castigating. During the day, her concentration at work had been... not ideal. She broke some glass—dropped from nervous fingers—and Abigail asked her if she was intending to go on a rampage. She’d had to redo more than one assay. It really was a miracle she’d been able to get here on time.

So she sat, as instructed, and she found herself pondering various miracles: Helena was cooking food, and Myka, on the sofa, had Leuko—no, Montgomery Clift—beside her, as he used to be, and she wished she were a poet, so as to put into words what suffused her heart. “Does he sit like this with you?” she felt compelled to ask.

“He does,” Helena said. Weeks ago, Myka would have felt that as a knife.  Now it was confirmation of all-encompassing comfort. “With me,” Helena went on, “and now with you. I’ve never seen him do so with anyone else.”

“Have you, though?” Myka asked him.

Of course he blinked those dark, beautiful, secret eyes. “Did she teach you to do that?” Myka asked him, and she dared a glance at Helena.

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” Helena said. “All I personally taught him was that he should shake hands. And clearly that is not what is occurring.”

“Shake?” Myka suggested to him.

Montgomery Clift sat up immediately and held out his right front paw.

“Impressive,” Myka told him—told Helena—after a convivial shake had occurred. In all her time with him, she hadn’t thought to see whether he would do that. She hadn’t thought about training at all. He was so quiet and sweet. What else would she have wanted him to do? How often would they really have needed to shake hands? “How often?” she asked, softly, and she took his blink to mean “Not very.”

Helena said from the kitchen, “It’s starting in not very long, and I’d like to let Monty out. Will you watch him in the yard?”

“You’re going to watch me watch him, aren’t you?

Helena smiled. “Honestly, yes. But not for the reason you fear.”

“I’m not sure you have a true handle on the extent of my fears.”

“Educate me.”

“What do you write about? Or I guess I mean, what did you write about?” Myka asked. The question had come to her that instant, fully formed—not a fear, not as such, but rather a gray gap in her knowledge.

“Hm,” Helena said. “Let’s talk about that when you come back indoors.”

Montgomery Clift enjoyed his time in the yard. “Sorry we can’t walk,” she told him, but he was cavorting, sniffing, investigating, and didn’t seem to care. It made her sad that she’d had no space for him to do that, untethered.

They came back indoors, so: “So, writing,” Myka said. “I didn’t Google you. So I don’t know.”

“That is both slightly insulting and exceedingly considerate.”

Myka, flustered, said, “Point being I don’t know.”

“It begins with my having been a rather unusual sort of child.”

“That isn’t hard to believe,” Myka said, then cringed. “That’s probably also slightly insulting.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s exceedingly complimentary. Don’t we all want to be unusual? I do now, and did then... I would fix my attention on a thing that struck me as interesting, and I would not rest until I became expert in it. The smaller and stranger the better. An arcane slice of history, some esoteric gadgetry, a figure of obscure influence. As it happened, I could write about such things in a readable way.”

“Showing off what an expert you’d become?” Myka asked. She hoped that wasn’t insulting at all.

Helena smiled in affirmation. “It began like that, yes. One tried to become less insufferable when it was for wider publication. In any case, I sought such topics out for years—the rarities, the curiosities. I made a reasonable amount of money doing so, which is better than many can say.”

“So why stop?”

“I had it in my head to write a novel. Something with that same depth, but also breadth.”

“Do you still have it in your head?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Mainly in my head. Not on paper.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“Monty’s disappearance... derailed me.”

“Are you un-derailed now?”

“Not precisely.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“I’ve found myself distracted.”

“Should I not ask why?”

“You should know why.”

Was that trying again? It felt softer, not quite as discomfiting. “When does this dog show start, anyway?” Myka said.

“Very soon,” Helena said, and the way she spoke those very simple words reminded Myka, viscerally, of why she wanted to be here—Helena’s eyes were bright, her voice low but engaged. An edge of something like hunger crept around the periphery of Myka’s awareness.

The show itself was astounding. Myka had known she had very little knowledge of dogs as animals, certainly prior to her brief ownership experience. But she had not known that she had not known how vast the world of dogs, as rankable, judgeable animals, really was. An entire additional universe was folded into the one Myka thought she knew. The idea of breeds, okay, she got that. But groups? Handlers? Stacking?

“Can he do that?” Myka asked, about the stacking, that stance seemingly required for the judging of... dogness?

“Oh, watch. Monty, sit,” Helena said to the dog who was curled between them. She raised her hand as she said it, and just like that, up he sat. She pulled her hand forward then and said, “Stand.” He stood, his entire self on display, just like the dogs on the television. After a second, Helena said, “I should have cheese in my hand. Or one of your tortillas. He hates when there’s no reward. You see how the handlers hold the treats in their mouths, when they’re in the ring. Often they use liver.”

“In their mouths...” Myka shuddered.

Helena offered a sympathetic echo of the movement. “It’s apparently quite compelling as an incentive, and they can’t hold the brush or the lead that way. But it’s certainly among the many reasons I myself wouldn’t have been able to show him.”

“I don’t understand why being pretty doesn’t count,” Myka said.

“Shapes and sizes matter more than anything, and he’s slightly too small for a male.” Montgomery Clift turned away from her, seemingly intentionally. Helena laughed and told him, “You’re exquisite and you know it.”

“Why did you even want a Mittelspitz anyway?” Myka asked. “No offense, Montgomery Clift.” After trying it out loud, she realized it didn’t work nearly as well that way as it did in her head. “Monty,” she amended, and now he reoriented himself toward Myka, as if he were pleased. She was probably attributing far too much intentionality to him.

Helena said, “I didn’t want one.” Did Montgomery Clift turn even further toward Myka? “As I told you, there was a novel in my head, but I was too busy investigating those curiosities. Then I began to imagine that I might find time for it if I settled into a more routine everyday life.”

“So you got a dog?” Myka asked, recalling her own Leuko-routines.

“Accidentally. While looking into teaching positions, I was finishing up one of my last pieces, on the insular, sectarian cultures around rare breeds of dog. I met Monty’s breeder, and she happened to note that having a dog would certainly create routines... I scoffed, but then I met Monty himself, as a wee puppy, and there was no longer any question.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

Helena showed Myka several photos of that wee puppy.

“Oh my god,” Myka said. It was the only logical response.

“He didn’t seem real,” Helena affirmed.

And yet there the real Montgomery Clift was, clearly the grown-up version of those photos, blinking back and forth at both of them. A curiosity.

“You’re coming back tomorrow night?” Helena asked later, as Myka prepared to leave.

What a confounding question. “I... am I?” Myka staggered out.

“The show. It’s two nights. I thought you knew.”

That had probably been conveyed at some point, but Myka hadn’t paid sufficient attention. She had lost her purchase on the unfamiliar new dog-parade production-number world unfurling itself for her perusal on the television, as she was far more interested in the equally new world composed of one disconcerting woman and one unreal dog. What did it say that the latter outranked the former?

Right... as if that were a mystery. “I think if this evening has demonstrated anything, it’s that I know absolutely nothing,” she lied.

“Not nothing,” Helena said, mindreading. Then she read some more: “Surely you know that I want to kiss you goodnight.”

“I want to know it,” Myka told her.

“Then do.” She moved close to Myka, a sidle not dissimilar to her move in the parking lot, and this time Myka did lean down, did find out. It was not confusing at all, but rather like good clear water, bracing and inundating, roaring, silent, everything. If this was the first night, what would the second entail?

The next day in the lab, Myka allowed to Abigail, “Maybe she’s my girlfriend.” Tempting fate, probably, but fate was certainly doing some tempting of its own...

Abigail crossed her arms. Never a good sign. “Why do you always have to lie first?”

“Why... what?”

“You lie about having a dog,” Abigail said. “You lie about having a girlfriend. What’s next? Your side job for the CIA?”

“Very funny.”

“If you deny it, I’ll know it’s true.”

“Fine. My side job is CIA. What do you know about dog shows?”

“Are you going undercover at one?” Abigail countered.

“My maybe girlfriend knows a lot about them.”

“Then ask her, not me. People like to talk about what they know a lot about. Except you, but you’re weird like that.”

Valid advice, and an accurate description. Myka thanked Abigail for them both.

“And you’d lie anyway,” Abigail continued.

Myka didn’t thank her for that.

As she prepared to leave for Helena’s that evening, she found herself thinking on clarity. That she might at last have some.

Her phone buzzed—a text. She never got texts.

The text was from Helena.

It said: Don’t come.

TBC

P.S. Only a bit left to go, I swear. Poor Myka’s heart can’t take much more, anyway, and my goal in life, or rather in narrative, really isn’t to make her suffer.

#bering and wells #Warehouse 13 #fanfic #Why #part 3 #B&W Holiday Gift Exchange #bering and wells gift exchange #bering and wells exchange #mysensitiveside

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Exploring the Garnet Bamboo Peninsula

Garnet bamboo trees are cool to look at. They don't seem like much at first glance but when you look closely, you can see little buds poking out, like tiny gem shards. I guess that's how the bamboo got its name - the buds do look like a bunch of tiny garnets.

This place is chock full of them and according to Yasmine, it's the only known place where they grow. Aside from the unusual buds, it's like any other bamboo plant - but that doesn't make it any less special. The flowers however are used in teas and soups, so those are local specialties here. They add a subtle bittersweet flavor that goes well with many soups and stir fried veggies.

I've been here for a couple days exploring the peninsula with Nathan, Yasmine, Dello, and Donna. Originally it was just me, Nate, and Yasmine, then we ran into the Clanwings so our trio became a quintet!

Yasmine and Nathan are on break from grad school. I didn't even know Yasmine went to the same college until recently, having just enrolled in the spring semester. I remember that she was debating going back to school after leaving the entourage. She and Nathan aren't in any classes together but since it's a small school they sometimes run into each other at the commons so they kinda know each other.

I've never heard of the Garnet Bamboo Peninsula until Yasmine brought it up. She heard about the place through Jamie, who of course would know about it. Along with the bamboos, the place is known for its cafes and bike trails. Being an avid biker and motorcyclist, Yasmine was intrigued. So when she suggested traveling there to me and Nathan, we became intrigued too.

The peninsula really is a lovely place for sightseeing and hanging out at cafes. It's perfect for a chill vacation where you don't really want to do too much other than be in a different setting. Just seeing the garnet bamboos up close and trying the local cuisine is enough of a fun experience. If that's all we end up doing, then I'm more than satisfied.

While biking along the beach trail, we ran into Dello and Donna. Dello somehow got his bike stuck and Donna was having no luck helping him. So we pitched in and managed to get the bike out, but it was in pretty bad shape. Based on how the crash scene looked, it's lucky that Dello only had a few scrapes and bruises.

Then again, I'm pretty sure Dello - and Donna - are like physically immune or something because they can take a lot of damage and somehow not break any bones or get crushed. It's funny but also kinda weird and unsettling - even they're low key freaked out by it sometimes. I'm pretty sure their uncle had something to do with that - likely by accident as that tends to happen a lot with the Clanwings.

Anyway, we invited Dello and Donna to dinner after helping them with the bike problem. They were sent by their uncle for a business trip and were planning to leave soon. Then they decided to extend their stay because things are a bit chaotic at home and Louise suggested that they hang around for a bit. She didn't elaborate too much but she insisted that they postpone going home so we assume it has something to do with their dear old uncle getting into some sort of trouble.

So Donna and Dello are now on a short vacation, which Donna's looking forward to. Dello admitted that he could use a break, but he also feels kinda bad for leaving Louise alone with the kids. Louise says she and the boys surprised the kids with a camping trip so they won't be at the mansion either. So whatever their uncle has gotten himself into, he's on his own.

It's been fun exploring the peninsula, gathering flowers, visiting cafes, and enjoying the view. We also took turns riding with Yasmine on her motorcycle, which was kinda scary at first but a lot of fun!

Yasmine's got an impressive collection of motorcycles as well as a vast knowledge on them. She occasionally works as a stunt rider, which was how Jamie met her. She's one of those people who gives off the impression of being a cool badass type and not only she is, but she's fun to hang out with too!

Before that, Yasmine was an actress best known on the Teen Scene sitcom Popular Besties. The show, I'll admit, was not that good, but I enjoyed it as a kid. The episodes tend to be a hit or miss and the first two seasons were all right but by the third and final season it was tedious. It was pretty obvious that Yasmine and her co-star were tired of the show so it wasn't a surprise when they later revealed that they quit, which was why season four was scrapped at the last minute.

Since getting to know Yasmine, I can't help but think of how her talents were wasted on Popular Besties. A lot of actors who debuted on Teen Scene have mixed feelings regarding their breakout roles and have since then moved on to better things. Yasmine still acts occasionally, though she's slowly phasing away from the entertainment industry. She says she's still not quite sure what direction she wants to go in but grad school's a start as well as continuing to pursue motorcycle racing.

Nathan has got a look at Yasmine's motorcycle collection and as expected, he was impressed. We don't know too much about those kinds of things but we know an impressive collection when we see one. I'm glad that they're getting along well - Yasmine's the type who easily becomes friends with everyone, even with people you'd think she wouldn't have much in common with. It's not that she and Nate are opposites but they come from completely different circles so it's unlikely that their paths would ever cross.

Things in Astra are pretty much the same for Nathan, and that's the way he and his family like it. He did mention that he visited Evan's grave for the first time in months, a kinda spur of the moment thing he didn't expect to do. He said he was reading a case study for a class that stirred up some memories so he had to step back when it became too much. Then he found himself at the cemetery and that kinda helped, or at least it grounded him. He told his therapist about it and she said some things that has left him thinking about the past.

I hope that one day he'll finally find peace with that. Nathan's come a long way since we first met and while what happened to his brother still hangs over him, at least he no longer beats himself up over it. That's why he wants to help people, to prevent tragedies like Evan, to save those going through a downward spiral no matter how far gone or beyond saving they think they are.

Dello and Donna have been up to the usual as well, shenanigans and all. Easton's hanging out with Rolly a lot so now they're best friends. Edie's happy about that as she mentioned that before Rolly, Easton didn't have too many close friends his age, probably because he's used to being around those older than him. Stork pops in often as usual and it's never a dull moment when he's around. We got to video chat with Louise and the kids, which was nice. They're all having a great time out on the road, sightseeing like we are.

Philly asked Nathan and Yasmine about Astra as he wants to go to grad school and is always looking far ahead in the future. Tally, as expected, asked about the garnet buds in hopes of using Tally Inc. to make a profit. Dello promised Rosie to bring home some sweet treats, particularly the pink moonberry daifuku a local cafe is famous for. Molly and her friends popped in for a bit just to say hi as well so it was nice to catch up with everyone.

The Clanwings are what most would consider an eccentric family. In a way, they kinda remind me of the McManns, except a lot bigger. Apparently they're kinda distantly related so I guess that explains the similarities. Both heads of the families are rich old men who happen to have a late younger sister, both who have twins who are left to keep an eye on their uncles. The uncles tend to get in trouble during their adventures so a lot of people end up mixing the families up.

Strangely though, even though I know Rocky, Chrissie, Dello, and Donna and they all know each other, I've never hung out with all four of them at once. Like I've known them for years and they live in Cityburg so you'd think at some point I'd meet up with Chrissie and Donna or Dello and Rocky on separate occasions but it hasn't happened yet. I mean it will (should) happen one day but I just find it funny that it hasn't.

Speaking of Rocky and Chrissie, we talked about them a bit. Dello said he dropped by to see Rocky and Lex before coming here. We joke that Rocky and Lex should tie the knot before baby #3 comes along, especially now that they're engaged but with no wedding date set yet. They've been pretty much following Dello and Louise with the whole having two kids before getting married. Though from the looks of it, I don't think Rocky and Lex plan on adding another family member anytime soon, if ever.

I don't know how Dello and Louise did it, having four kids roughly a year apart. Rosie and Lessi are 14 months apart, both were pre-marriage, Lessi and Cissy are about a year and a half apart being the widest age gap, then Cissy and Rolly, aka the planned post marriage ones, at 10 months because Rolly came early. So basically Louise was on and off pregnant for 4-5 years, which is insane.

As for Donna, she had the boys and that was it. Before that, it was apparently rumored that the Clanwings were at risk of dying out since Dello and Donna were the only heirs left as for some reason the family members are against marriage, or at least have no interest in it. At this point Dello's the only living Clanwing who's married, but even he and Louise were on the fence about marriage for a while.

So we met up at this place called the Pink Daifuku and enjoyed a bunch of sweet treats. The peach mochi cakes are my favorite as well as the green garnet rose tea. We also shared a bottle of sweet white wine infused with garnet bamboos, which add an interesting flavor. I think this is the sweetest wine I've ever tasted - it's good but a bit too overpowering, something that would probably be paired better with a meal instead of desserts or alone.

Tomorrow we're gonna visit the Diamond Winery to try some more garnet wines and see how they're made. The winery's on one of the top places to visit in the Garnet Bamboo Peninsula because it has a gorgeous view of the cliffs and it's the only place where garnet wines are made. Dello and Donna are into that kind of stuff so of course they'd want to check it out. Yasmine said she always wanted to try the garnet champagne while Nathan and I are looking forward to taking a bunch of nice pics as well as the free wine samples.

After the cafe we rented some bikes and explored the Waybright Plains trail. There, we looked at the ruins and collected some garnet bamboo. Something about Waybright feels eerie, then again that's how most abandoned places feel like. Exploring ruins up close and personal is always an interesting experience.

We tried to solve something that looked like a puzzle involving the torches but couldn't figure it out. I think we were close though as we managed to light all but one of the torches up. Well, I was never really good at puzzles anyway, and maybe it's probably for the best that we didn't activate what was in there. I mean, I doubt it's like a trap or something, but it is kinda weird that a device like that still works and is just left out in the open. Dello was right to be a bit iffy about it, especially from personal experience.

Yeah, as tempting as it can be, I think we're better off leaving those alone. I don't want to be responsible for causing a catastrophe by messing around with something I shouldn't have.

Time flies quickly when you're wandering the corridors of old ruins. It's easy to get lost in a place like this - I'm surprised that we managed to stay together the whole time. And not only that, but we also managed not to set off any traps or have any accidents along the way so another win. Then again, these ruins are open to the public so that obviously wouldn't be a problem or else we wouldn't have been able to just freely walk in.

For the trip back, we took the scenic route. The trails are super well lit so there's no worries about it getting too dark - and we were out pretty late. Riding around the peninsula at night has a different vibe than in the daytime. I think it's the glow of the lanterns that add to this sorta dreamy, disconnected vibe that makes it so chill. Plus the trails aren't as busy at this time of night so it's just us and the garnet bamboo. If it weren't for the mosquitos, I'd go on nighttime hikes more often.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

[sevenfactorial]

Info about applying to PhD programs in pure math

This is... basically what it sounds like. I’m sure a lot of this is applicable to other PhD applications but I’m only very familiar with pure math. This is aimed at current seniors about to apply, but there is a section about prepping for applications in advance.

The highlights:

Recommendation letters are the most important thing. Most schools ask for 3ish. Try to get people who know you well, not just a student in the class. Someone you've conducted research with and one from a different institution are ideal if possible

Ask for rec letters at least a month before the due date is a good rule of thumb.

Research experience is probably the second most important.

Get the opinion of multiple professors who know you in order to build a list of potential schools. Then widdle it down to your will-actually-apply list (probably 8-14 ish). 

My opinion but please apply to at least 3-4 safety/match schools. Even when you're fully qualified, acceptance rates are simply low enough that a bit of bad luck means getting rejected or waitlisted from a few of them.

Most pure math due dates are in early-mid Dec but a few schools are in Nov and some are as late as mid-Jan. 

Schools will generally have their own graduate application portals. Some are better organized than others. Some require you to submit all your material before you can send a request for submitting rec letters so plan accordingly.

Acceptance letters will very slowly start going out in mid-Feb but the vast majority of programs won't send out anything until like, March and not be done until later than that. Accordingly, wait until at least mid-March to begin freaking out if you haven't been accepted anywhere.

You should 100% be expecting a tuition waiver and stipend from a program if you're applying for a PhD.

The rest of the posts is.... ridiculously long so I’m putting it under a cut. I mention things to do in advance to help you decide if grad school is right for you and things that make your application look good, give a full time line of the process, a list of things applications commonly ask for, and some miscellaneous notes. (The points above are repeated in more detail).

In addition, some links to other resources math students may appreciate:

an old post of mine about grad school apps (overlaps a lot and features some ranting from during the application process)

about REUs including my addition specifically about math ones

summer programs for undergrads that aren’t REUs by @counter-example and @jungleuniversity

Tips for prospective grad student visits 

Also about prospective grad student visits by @thisurlhasbeenleftasanexercise

Also for context, I went to a large state school in the US for undergrad. I started as a CS major and added on math as a secondary major after my first year and dropped CS during third year. I’m primarily interested in discrete and algebra, though I have a significant topology background from undergrad too. I got most of my advice from people around the department, as I became pretty involved during my third year. Now, I’m a first year grad student at another large state school in the US, generally considered pretty decent though not a “top math program” at all. Not that much else has happened so far.

Things in advance (aka things to help you decide if grad school is for you and things that look good on an application)

Take the standard classes. For pure math, this is at least one semester of linear alg, abstract alg, and analysis each. Linear and analysis are also good for applied math but I'm not sure what else if anything is considered standard.

Take some grad classes if you have the option. Most people are not ready for this until senior year, but some do manage as juniors. Talk to people who know you well and the prof teaching the class before you do this though.

Try to get involved with research whether this is through independent studies at your home institution, REUs, internships, or other stuff.

Be involved in your department. This helps with getting you more personalized advice for applying.

The rough suggested timeline (assuming junior yr is your second to last year and senior is your last of undergrad)

Junior April: Take the math subject GRE so you can take it again in Sep or Oct if desired (perhaps not applicable atm). The general can be taken kinda whenever; I suggest fall of senior year.

Junior April/May: Start talking to professors/post docs/mentors/etc. about programs you may be interested in. Write/type it down. Don't worry if it gets long, you will shorten again later.

Summer: Do some research if possible; an REU or research at your institution (if an REU, also get your mentor's opinion on potential schools towards the end as well)

Senior Sep: Start whittling down your list. 8-14 seems to be the "normal" range of schools to apply to but some people panic and do more. Remember that asking for waivers is completely acceptable but applying is still just generally expensive (I spent around $800 for 10 schools)

Senior Sep: Apply for the NSF GRFP. You can apply as an undergrad senior and once during your first or second year of grad school if you didn't already get it. The due date is in mid-late OC but ideally you'll have a draft of your essays and ask for rec letters by the end of Sep, if not earlier.

Senior early Nov: Ask for rec letters if you haven't already. The rule of thumb is a month before the due date. Provide them a list of schools you want to apply to including due date and where/how to submit as soon as possible (as well as anything else they request of course; many ask for a resume and a draft of your personal statement).

Senior Dec-Jan: Submit stuff! Pure math programs typically have deadlines in Dec or early Jan. I think the big days are Dec 10th, Dec 15th, and Jan 15th but some are earlier or later. (applied math masters tend to be earlier I think; in Nov). I suggest putting them all into a list or calendar. In addition, some schools won't let letter writers submit until all of your stuff is submitted so start applications early, even if you don't finish them immediately.

Senior Feb: Programs will slowly start sending out offers in early Feb and pick up in mid Feb, but don't fret until AT LEAST the beginning of March! Grad programs are just way too slow at getting out offers for it to be worth worrying until then (and even then, it's definitely not time to panic but mathematicians are frequently anxious people so I get it). Waitlists are slower to come out; usually starting in early March. Also note, there are many programs that don't actually send out replies to everyone unfortunately.

Senior late Feb-early April: prospective student days! They might be online in 2021 unfortunately but try to attend whatever form they're in if you can (only one of my visits during spring 2020 was online since the others happen to be very early and safely beat covid in the US). Be warned, it's very possible to get offers of admissions and to visit very last minute. I do not have advice for how to make that less stressful.

Senior April 15th: Common reply deadline. If you got your offer in the first round or two, this is probably your deadline to accept. In addition, this means more offers will likely come out shortly after once more people have declined. 

Senior summer: graduate. Send a completed, official transcript to your new institution. Check your new email account for stuff you're suppose to do. Some programs have some sort of program during the summer for in-coming students. Most places have graduate student training of some sort for a week or two before semester starts. 

Some common things to be asked for in applications

Not actually a thing asked for but many graduate schools have their own portal for which you will have to make an account to submit an application. A few use a common system that kinda sort shares a database of accounts? Some are fine and some massively suck.

Personal Statement/Statement of Purpose: Occasionally called something else and once in a while actually separate things; will usually have a prompt of wildly differing specificity. Sometimes, the prompts come from the department itself and sometimes from the university's graduate school. I suggest having one or two "base" essays then tweaking them for each school. Sometimes a word/page limit is specified but if it's not, around 2 pages/1000 words is pretty reasonable.

Transcript. Some accept unofficial but some require official but generally not an unsealed one. I ordered myself one official transcript and sent it to multiple schools instead of paying for them to be sent to each school during the application process.

Resume or CV: Most ask for either a CV or is fine with either, in which case I give them my CV. I sent more or less the same one everywhere.

Some other notes

Yes, ask for application waivers. Just be polite about it.

Your goals for your essays are primarily to show that you're interested in math and math research and are capable of like…. writing things that make sense

Do not start out an essay with either "I loved math since I was little" or "I actually didn't like math when I was young" or any variations of those. (I had one essay that started with a mildly humourous anecdote from undergrad combinatorics and another that talked about how my undergrad department has greatly affected me).

You should 100% expect to get a tuition waiver and living stipend as part of a TA fellowship (or more rarely, an research fellowship) as part of your offer of acceptance for a math PhD program (pure or applied). Health insurance is also frequently part of the package. This is not true of masters programs unfortunately.

How schools do waitlists depend wildly though most don't have super long ones like prestigious undergrads do. If you're still interested in a place you're waitlisted at, follow their instructions to confirm your placement on the waitlist then wait until April before following up again, expressing your continued interest and asking for an update. You might even want to wait until around the common deadline, April 15th. The number of people who declined before April is just really really low so nothing really happens until then.

#grad school applications #math grad school applications #math phd applications #math grad school application tips #math grad school application advise #seriously not qualified beyond i managed to do it #but hey it's good to have more people's advice for cross referencing! #seven stories #long post #grad school #god

[morwensteelsheen]

I’m starting grad school this autumn and honestly I’m getting nervous. Like yes I am v excited about the whole prospect overall and I do miss being a student but am intimidated by 3 hr long seminars and thesis writing and massive amounts of reading… everyone keeps saying it’s gonna be very different from undergrad so okay, but how specifically? Is it the large amounts of reading? I already had insane amounts of reading (humanities degree hurrah) especially in my last two years but could you expound on your own experience and how you take notes/read quickly/summarize or just how to deal with first time grad students?

Oh, yeah for sure! A necessary disclaimer here is that I'm at a certain poncy English institution that is noted for being very bad at communicating with its students and very bad at treating its postgrad students like human beings, so a lot of these strategies I've picked up will be overkill for anyone who has the good sense to go somewhere not profoundly evil lol.

So I'll just preface this by saying that I am a very poor student in terms of doing what you're supposed to. I'm very bad at taking notes, I never learned how to do it properly, and I really, really struggle with reading dense literature. That said, I'm probably (hopefully?) going to get through this dumb degree just fine. Also — my programme is a research MPhil, not taught, so it's a teensy bit more airy-fairy in terms of structure. I had two classes in Michaelmas term, both were once a week for two hours each; two in Lent, one was two hours weekly, the other two hours biweekly; and no classes at all in Easter. I also have no exam component, I was/am assessed entirely on three essays (accounting for 30% of my overall mark) and my dissertation (the remaining 70%), which is, I think, a little different to how some other programmes are. I think even some of the other MPhils here are more strenuous than that, like Econ and Soc Hist is like 100% dissertation? Anyways, not super important, but knowing what you're getting marked on is important. I dedicated considerably less time than I did in undergrad to perfecting my coursework essays because they just don't hold as much weight now. The difference between a 68 and a 70 just wasn't worth the fuss for me, which helped keep me sane-ish.

The best advice anyone ever gave me was that, whereas an undergrad degree can kind of take over your life without it becoming a problem, you need to treat grad school like a job. That's not because it's more 'serious' or whatever, but because if you don't set a really strict schedule and keep to it, you'll burn yourself out and generally make your life miserable. Before I went back on my ADD meds at the end of Michaelmas term, I sat myself down at my desk and worked from 11sh to 1800ish every day. Now that I'm medicated, I do like 9:30-10ish to 1800-1900 (except for now that I'm crunching on my diss, where, because of my piss-poor time management skills I'm stuck doing, like, 9:30-22:30-23:00). If you do M-F 9-5, you'll be getting through an enormous amount of work and leaving yourself loads of time to still be a human being on the edges. That'll be the difference between becoming a postgrad zombie and a person who did postgrad. I am a postgrad zombie. You do not want to be like me.

The 'work' element of your days can really vary. It's not like I was actually consistently reading for all that time — my brain would have literally melted right out of my ears — but it was about setting the routine and the expectation of dedicating a certain, consistent and routinized period of time for focusing on the degree work every day. My attention span, even when I'm medicated, is garbage, so I would usually read for two or three hours, then either work on the more practical elements of essay planning, answer emails, or plot out the early stages of my research.

In the first term/semester/whatever, lots of people who are planning on going right into a PhD take the time to set up their applications and proposals. I fully intended on doing a PhD right after the MPhil, but the funding as an international student trying to deal with the pandemic proved super problematic, and I realised that the toll it was taking on my mental health was just so not worth it, so I've chosen to postpone a few years. You'll feel a big ol' amount of pressure to go into a PhD during your first time. Unless you're super committed to doing it, just try and tune it out as much as you can. There's absolutely nothing wrong with taking a year (or two, or three, or ten) out, especially given the insane conditions we're all operating under right now.

I'll be honest with you, I was a phenomenally lazy undergrad. It was only by the grace of god and being a hard-headed Marxist that I managed to pull out a first at the eleventh hour. So the difference between UG and PG has been quite stark for me. I've actually had to do the reading this year, not just because they're more specialised and relevant to my research or whatever, but because, unlike in UG, the people in the programme are here because they're genuinely interested (and not because it's an economic necessity) and they don't want to waste their time listening to people who haven't done the reading.

I am also a really bad reader. Maybe it's partially the ADD + dyslexia, but mostly it's because I just haven't practiced it and never put in the requisite effort to learn how to do it properly. My two big pointers here are learning how to skim, and learning how to prioritise your reading.

This OpenU primer on skimming is a bit condescending in its simplicity, but it gets the point across well. You're going to want to skim oh, say, 90% of the reading you're assigned. This is not me encouraging you to be lazy, it's me being honest. Not every word of every published article or book is worth reading. The vast majority of them aren't. That doesn't mean the things that those texts are arguing for aren't worth reading, it just means that every stupid rhetorical flourish included by bored academics hoping for job security and/or funding and/or awards isn't worth your precious and scarce time. Make sure you get the main thrust of each text, make sure you pull out and note down one or two case studies and move right the hell on. There will be some authors whose writing will be excellent, and who you will want to read all of. Everything else gets skimmed.

Prioritisation is the other big thing. You're going to have shitty weeks, you're probably going to have lots of them. First off, you're going to need to forgive yourself for those now — everybody has them, yes, even the people who graduated with distinctions and go on to get lovely £100,000 AHRC scholarships. Acknowledge that there will be horrible weeks, accept it now, and then strategise for how to get ahead of them. My personal strategy is to plan out what I'm trying to get out of each course I take, and then focus only on the readings that relate to that topic.

I took a course in Lent term that dealt with race and empire in Britain between 1607 and 1900; I'm a researcher of the Scottish far left from 1968-present, so the overlap wasn't significant. But I decided from the very first day of the course that I was there to get a better grasp about the racial theories of capitalism and the role of racial othering in Britain's subjugation of Ireland. Those things are helpful to me because white supremacist capitalism comes up hourly in my work on the far left, and because the relationship of the Scottish far left to Ireland is extremely important to its self definition. On weeks when I couldn't handle anything else, I just read the texts related to that. And it was fine, I did fine, I got my stupid 2:1 on the final essay, and I came out of it not too burnt out to work on my dissertation.

Here is where I encourage you to learn from my mistakes: get yourself a decent group of people who you can have in depth conversations about the material with. I was an asshole who decided I didn't need to do that with any posh C*mbr*dge twats, and I have now condemned myself to babbling incomprehensible nonsense at my partner because I don't have anyone on my course to work through my ideas with. These degrees are best experienced when they're experienced socially. In recent years (accelerated by the pandemic, ofc), universities have de-emphasised the social component of postgrad work, largely to do with stupid, long-winded stuff related to postgrad union organising etc. It's a real shame because postgrads end up feeling quite socially isolated, and because they're not having these fun and challenging conversations, their work actually suffers in the long term. This is, and I cannot stress this enough, the biggest departure from undergrad. Even the 'weak links' or whatever judgemental nonsense are there because they want to be. That is going to be your biggest asset. Talk, talk, talk. Listen, listen, listen. Offer to proofread people's papers so you get a sense of how people are thinking about things, what sort of style they're writing in, what sources they're referring to. Be a sponge and a copycat (but don't get done for plagiarism, copy like this.) Also: ask questions that seem dumb. For each of your classes, ask your tutors/lecturers who they think the most important names in their discipline are. It sounds silly, but it's really helpful to know the intellectual landscape you're dealing with, and it means you know whose work you can go running to if you get lost or tangled up during essay or dissertation writing!

You should also be really honest about everything — another piece of advice that I didn't follow and am now suffering for. The people on your courses and in your cohort are there for the same reasons as you, have more or less the same qualifications as you, and are probably going to have a lot of the same questions and insecurities as you. If you hear an unfamiliar term being used in a seminar, just speak up and ask about it, because there're going to be loads of other people wondering too. But you should also cultivate quite a transparent relationship with your supervisor. I was really cagey and guarded with mine because my hella imposter syndrome told me she was gonna throw my ass out of the programme if I admitted to my problems. Turns out no, she wouldn't, and that actually she's been a super good advocate for me. If you feel your motivation slipping or if you feel like you're facing challenges you could do with a little extra support on, go right to your supervisor. Not only is that what they're there to do, they've also done this exact experience before and are going to be way more sympathetic and aware of the realities of it than, say, the uni counselling service or whatever.

Yeah so I gotta circle back to the notes thing... I really do not take notes. It's my worst habit. Here's an example of the notes I took for my most recent meeting with my supervisor (revising a chapter draft).

No sane person would ever look at these and think this is a system worth replicating lol. But the reason they work for me is because I also record (with permission) absolutely everything. My mobile is like 90% audio recordings of meetings and seminars lol. So these notes aren't 'good' notes, but they're effective for recalling major points in the audio recording so I can listen to what was said when I need to.

Sorry none of this is remotely organised because it's like 2330 here and my brain is so soft and mushy. I'm literally just writing things as I remember them.

Right, so: theory is a big thing. Lots of people cheap out on this and it's to their own detriment. You say you're doing humanities, and tbh, most of the theory involved on the humanities side of the bridge is interdisciplinary anyways, so I'm just gonna give you some recommendations. The big thing is to read these things and try to apply them to what you're writing about. This sounds so fucking condescending but getting, like, one or two good theoretical frameworks in your papers will actually put you leaps and bounds beyond the students around you and really improve your research when the time comes. Also: don't read any of these recommendations without first watching, like an intro youtube video or listening to a podcast. The purists will tell you that's the wrong way to do it, but I am a lazy person and lazy people always find the efficient ways to do things, so I will tell the purists to go right to hell.

Check out these impenetrable motherfuckers (just one or two will take your work from great to excellent, so don't feel obliged to dig into them all):

Karl Marx and Fredrich Engels (I'm not just pushing my politics, but also, I totally am) — don't fucking read Capital unless you're committed to it. Oh my god don't put yourself through that unless you really have to. Try, like, the 18th Brumaire of Louis Napoleon for the fun quotes, and Engels on the family.

Frantz Fanon — Wretched of the Earth. Black Skin White Masks also good, slightly more impossible to read

Benedict Anderson — Imagined Communities. It's about nationalism, but you will be surprised at how applicable it is to... so many other topics

Judith Butler — she really sucks to read. I love her. But she sucks to read. If you do manage to read her though, your profs will love you because like 90% of the people who say they've read her are lying

Bourdieu — Distinction is good for a lot of things, but especially for introducing the idea of social and cultural capital. There's basically no humanities sub-discipline that can't run for miles on that alone.

Crenshaw — the genesis of intersectionality. But, like, actually read her, not the ingrates who came after her and defanged intersectionality into, like, rainbow bombs dropped over Gaza.

The other thing is that you should read for fun. My programme director was absolutely insistent that we all continue to read for pleasure while we did this degree, not just because it's good for destressing, but because keeping your cultural horizons open actually makes your writing better and more interesting. I literally read LOTR for the first time in, like February, and the difference in my writing and thinking from before and after is tangible, because not only did it give me something fun to think about when I was getting stressy, but it also opened up lots of fun avenues for thought that weren't there before. I read LOTR and wanted to find out more about English Catholics in WWI, and lo and behold something I read about it totally changed how I did my dissertation work. Or, like, a girl on my course who read the Odyssey over Christmas Break and then started asking loads of questions about the role of narrative creation in the archival material she was using. It was seriously such a good edict from our director.

Also, oh my god, if you do nothing else, please take this bit seriously: forgive yourself for the bad days. The pressure in postgrad is fucking unreal. Nobody, nobody is operating at 100% 100% of the time. If you aim for 60% for 80% of the time and only actually achieve 40% for 60% of the time, you will still be doing really fucking well. Don't beat yourself up unnecessarily. Don't make yourself feel bad because you're not churning out publishable material every single day. Some days you just need to lie on the couch, order takeout, and watch 12 hours of Jeopardy or whatever, and I promise you that that is a good and worthwhile thing to do. You don't learn and grow without rest, so forgive yourself for the moments and days of unplanned rest, and forgive yourself for when you don't score as highly as you want to, and forgive yourself when you say stupid things in class or don't do all of (or any of) the class reading.

Uhhhh I think I'm starting to lose the plot a bit now. Honestly, just ping me whatever questions you have and I'm happy to answer them. There's a chance I'll be slower to respond over the next few days because my dissertation is due in a week (holy fuck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) but I will definitely respond. And honestly, no question is too dumb lol. I wish I'd been able to ask someone about things like what citation management software is best or how to set up a desk for maximum efficiency or whatever, but I was a scaredy-cat about it and didn't. So yeah, ask away and I will totally answer.

#asks

[cadykeus-clay]

please tell me more about your dance major!

ohhhh ok!!!! ive been doin hw most of the day so i missed this notif but i’m happy to answer now!!! so i’m currently doing two majors, one of which is in dance. in all honesty, i have it a lot easier than many college dancers for several reasons:

for one, I’m getting a BA rather than a BFA, which means the program is far less rigorous wrt hours. Most BFA programs I looked at when applying to college require daily class, whereas I have technique only 3 days a week, and they also have a much stricter performance requirement. 

Most dancers would be in either multiple pieces per show, or multiple shows, depending on the departments rehearsal schedule. We are not *required* to perform at all (though everyone does lol) and we are only in one piece per semester (usually) as undergraduates. 

So my hours are a lot less than a lot of programs, even more so due to covid slashing our rehearsal space (our actual studio doesn’t have central AC and so isn’t approved for use AT ALL, and we’re in our second semester of taking class out of an orchestral performance hall instead)

for another, I’m doing a performing arts major at a tech school. I won’t say which one cause internet privacy, but we’re mostly known for our med school and engineering programs. so, the department knows I’m not at this school to dance, i’m there to dance and do something else (in my case math on an eventual education cert track). so our classes and stuff are structured around all the dance majors having another major as well. 

just as me, i’ve been dancing for ..... 16? 17? years now. from when I started through the end of high school, I trained heavily in ballet, modern dance (specifically graham and humphrey techniques) and jazz, with little bits of dabbling in more other styles than I can name between guest artists and short intensives and the like. the college I’m at offers only ballet and modern classes, which are supposedly in graham style (that’s why I came here) but imo they’re a fucking joke if they actually call themselves graham technique classes. they’re graham-based at best. 

however, our main focus is on producing choreographers and teachers rather than performers. a handful of our undergrads go on to join major companies as performers, but (esp because of the tech school thing) most of us go on to do teaching or choregraphing gigs outside of our day job, and our grad program gets you a MFA in contemporary choreography.

which i actually think is pretty cool conceptually! now i kinda fucking hate the way our dept head teaches choreo and have been avoiding it like the devil but thats a me problem. because of that, though, we also take a couple classes on like ... dance pedagogy, and stage production, and we have to work several performances worth of stage crew which i think is really neat behind the scenes experience that not a lot of colleges will offer!

we also do a lot of dance science stuff - so like studying nutrition, physiology, medicine, and even psychology with the specific intent of working w/ dancers. a lot like sports medicine, but for dancers rather than athletes. every semester (except for covid lmao) we do this little fitness test thing that gauges our natural abilities and makes it easier for us/our teachers to pinpoint our strengths and weaknesses and it’s actually overall really cool.

just as a personal example, and i have no idea if you’re a dancer and will know what this means anon, but for those who are: my turnout on the left has always been way more shit than it is on the right. absolutely no idea why. and i’ve been hounded about it for Decades. I came to this school and took my first little physical exam and was told “well no wonder. your right hip has 20 more degrees of movement in it than your left”. that’s nothing to do with my posture, or my muscle strength. my left femur head is literally just larger and gets in the way quicker and unless i get surgery to shave it down there’s no fixing it, so instead i could focus my time on trying to retrain equal stability in both sides rather than trying to force left turnout that literally didn’t exist. 

overall there’s a lot of really nice things about this program, and it’s by no means a setup for me to go into a professional performance career, but that’s not what i wanted anyways. i like my school and i like this program and i like .... enough of the people in it (dept chair and assistant chair do NOT interact i’m talking to my cool queer professor with blue hair who just started publicly using they/them pronouns) to stick around and keep my inherent need to dance satisfied!!! 

#long post #asks #sorry for the absolute Essay anon im sure this was way more than you wanted sjdlkfjdsafsadfsad

[notbecauseofvictories]

do you have any advice for a 19 year old college freshman? i'm excited for college and i love the freedom/being challenged, but i'm overwhelmed by the sheer workload that my course (graphic design) is giving us and i feel really skittish and unprepared when it comes to things like lectures, papers, and essays! i kinda wish i was back in preschool making potato stamp art :(

1. Get Organized

When I feel overwhelmed it’s because I don’t have a clear idea of exactly what I need to do and when. I’m usually thinking about everything at once, every single little thing I have to do, every deadline from here ‘til December, and every bit of life I have to take of in the meantime. When every single wheel is spinning in your brain all at once, it can feel suffocating—and the natural result is to be anxious and overwhelmed.

But it’s not a good use of your time to care about every deadline from here to December (especially if it’s keeping you from getting things done in the present.) So my first advice is always: Take a Step Back.

Step back. You are a human being and you cannot do everything all at once at one hundred percent. To try is to invite failure and misery. (You cannot properly focus on lectures if all you’re thinking about is the next paper; you can’t think about an assignment when you’re hyperaware that the laundry is all over the floor.) So take a step back, and figure out:

What do I have to do today?

What do I have to do tomorrow?

What do I have to do this week?

What do I have to do this month?

I recommend writing all of this down. Actually answer those four questions---in excruciating detail (include chores, laundry, extracurriculars, etc.) and do it in handwriting, if you can. Get a bunch of pieces of notebook/printer paper and write out all the various bullet points, with associated dates. Genuinely figure out what your days, weeks, and months look like. Maybe even transfer all those scribbled notes onto a calendar, so you know that when the clock strikes 12:01 AM on November 10th, you have to start thinking about your final project for Graphic Design 101.

And then---and this is the tricky part---worry only about those things that have to get done today/tomorrow/this week/this month. Once you have a plan, don’t let yourself get distracted by the panicky whirlpool of oh-god-I-haven’t-started-my-Graphic-Design-101-project-yet. Your problem for that day is just to get your laundry done, attend lecture and take lots of notes, and outline an essay for one class. Don’t get sucked into the Sisyphean nightmare that is “I could be doing more, and doing it better”---instead, focus only on what you can concretely achieve, being faithful to how you study and learn best. 

No one can do everything all the time perfectly. Figure out what’s achievable for you, what positions you the best for success, and work from there.

2. Work Your Network

The beautiful thing about college is that there are a lot of people there who genuinely want you to succeed. You have professors who would love you to come to their office hours, grad student TAs who take immense pride in working with students, and classmates who would do murder for someone to commiserate and proofread each others’ essays with. Take advantage of all of them. 

Go to office hours! Every single office hour, professors’ and TAs’, especially if you feel like you’re struggling in a class. Bring your marked-up homework, questions from the lecture (which includes “I didn’t understand X, could you explain it again?”) or even more far-ranging questions like, “I really admire you [and maybe secretly want to be you when I’m older], could you tell me more about the industry/your background/this article of yours I read?” Every person in the entire world loves talking about how they Made It, and nothing will endear you faster than asking them for advice. (Just make sure to take it with a grain of salt!)

If your college has other resources, I recommend at least trying those as well. My university had grad student “tutors” who basically hung out in the library waiting to help college students with essays and problem sets. In law school, we had “mentors,” where you would be paired up with an older student who could tell you about certain professors and share outlines with you. All advice is personal and should be taken with a grain of salt, but I bet there are a lot of human resources available to you---even just to freak out with.

3. You’re Still Making Potato Stamp Art (No, Really)

It’s easy, in the overwhelming rush and whirl of college, to forget why you went in the first place. You catch it only in glimpses: a professor whose lecture style makes you feel things; an assignment you feel particularly proud of; a conversation you have, halfway through the semester, where you realize you actually have been learning this whole time. The pursuit of knowledge, of learning and improving and making something new, gives the whole collegiate endeavor an electric feeling that in my experience isn’t present anywhere else in the world---but it’s always, always hard. (For all my problems with higher education as a system, I’ve never doubted the value of knowledge-for-knowledge’s sake. Much like art-for-art’s sake, it’s easy to espouse and yet somehow tremendously fragile, threatened, once you look closer.)

The thing is, it’s easy to look back on the learning and growing we’ve already accomplished and think that that was the happiest time of our lives. It was so easy! It must have been easy, because we’ve passed through it---it’s especially easy to think so now on the other side, where we’re presented with even harder challenges to overcome. So the challenges left behind...well, they must have always been easy.

But making potato stamp art was once hard. You once looked at your unevenly-cut potato, slathered with too much paint (so much so that it squished on the paper) and knew on some level that this was not the best art. Otherwise you wouldn’t have tried to improve---you wouldn’t be here, studying graphic design, unless there was a part of you that looked at your macaroni art, potato stamps, and “family portraits” painted in wet acrylic, and thought, not good enough. 

You’re still making potato stamp art, it’s just more sophisticated than it was. As it should be: you’re much more sophisticated too. Growth, learning, making...these things are always hard at every stage, turn, and twist. So if you’re going to look behind you, then I’m going to insist that you do it in frank admiration of how far you’ve come, and how much further you’re going to go.

#sarah gives advice #girls go to college to get more knowledge #(that is....the college tag)(sorry anon if you do not identify as a girl) #long post for ts

[lil-outsider]

Michael Sheen is a literal angel, y’all.

Let me tell y’all a story...

First, you need to know a little bit about my year so far. In the year of our Lord, Twenty-Nine-Sheen, well, my life has really spiraled. I’m a grad student at the University of Texas at Austin in the MA in Media Studies program, and I fully intended on graduating this past May. Unfortunately, in January, mere days before the Spring semester that I was registered and ready to go for would begin, I found out that I had to have surgery. I moved all my coursework online to address the problem. Well, financial problems caused by insurance issues left that process in paperwork hell until May, and, simultaneously, my grandmother fell ill in February, and we soon learned that she had quick-onset dementia. She also became incontinent during this time. Very rapidly, she went from somewhat independent to needing care 24/7. I became her new caregiver. My schoolwork got pushed back... Well, I kept working on it, but email communication often failed me and I found myself hoping I could go back to Austin, but nothing was slowing down. In fact, things started building up. My dad started working more, and I had less time to go to my undergraduate school here at home, Texas A&M University-Texarkana, and get work done. I knew I wouldn’t graduate in May, but my dad and I had pooled our money together to pay for one more semester. We chose the summer session because it was cheaper, and we were sure that, if I was given the freedom to work, I could get things done on time.  My dad started working even more--3 people were fired from his job at the water treatment drinking water plant here in Texarkana. He was working every single day. I was trying to find any second to show up at school, and I was also very, very exhausted. 

In a particularly heavy moment of stress and impending due dates that I couldn’t foresee making, I tweeted Michael Sheen with a funny picture of my cat and some icons @Kiyye had created, and I wrote a little note about how he made me smile in these dark times. 

Now, this message definitely uplifted my spirits. My best friend, @vacationingatthepond, randomly checked Twitter while we were on the phone together, getting ready to watch Masters of Sex, and found out the news. We were both ecstatic, as she is mentioned in the original post, too. Like everyone else in this fandom, we’ve been connecting over Michael Sheen content since Good Omens, so we’ve made a nightly ritual of gushing about Michael and watching his movies/shows. We connect over this since we’re hundreds of miles apart and we miss each other a lot. When we watched Bright Young Things, I even found my chosen middle name in Michael’s character. My love for him is real, and this little note made me feel loved, too.  Well, last night, my grandmother had a bad night, so I stayed up and decided that I would make a GoFundMe page to try and earn money to pay for the Fall semester at UT-Austin. It was getting dire. Tens of thousands of dollars of loans in, and I was about to have to quit because I couldn’t pay for one more course and I hadn’t applied for FAFSA because I intended on graduating in May. I also went ahead and applied for FAFSA, but this option was really daunting, considering it would triple the cost of school AND the coursework--to get loans, you must be full-time. While I need 3 hours to graduate, I’d need 9 to meet grad school full-time status... The GoFundMe page was a last-ditch effort to secure my spot in school, and remains an effort to get me back to Austin where I can work in-person with my advisor. 

Here is the link to the gofundme, if you would like to donate or signal boost:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-rein-graduate-utaustin-grad-school&rcid=r01-15656318453-90964e8dfd13406f&pc=ot_co_campmgmt_w

I tweeted it to Michael, along with a thank you for his sweet words to my grandmother and I. I simply requested he signal boost my GoFundMe page. Instead, y’all, he donated the entire amount. And he told nobody. He just left it there for me to find. When I came back from changing my grandmother’s diaper this morning, I had a notification from a facebook message that a friend sent that read, “You probably still don’t realize what has happened.” I had sent her a link to the page only 30 minutes before. Within 30 minutes, Michael Sheen single-handedly reached my goal of $3000 and saved my academic career. I’ve only got a little work left on my project. I will graduate now. I cannot even fully process it.  Kudos to @neil-gaiman for recognizing that Michael Sheen is actually an angel here on earth. 

He told nobody about this. He kept this entirely to himself and the small group of people I have circulated this to. He didn’t share my post or anything--he did something better; again, he just single-handedly saved my academic career. It was instant stress relief. This has been the heaviest year of my life, and he’s made it better. He’s obviously invited to my graduation! Hook ‘em!  For those that are interested, my Master’s Report will be available to the public. Here is a description I wrote for the last GoFundMe update:  “The project is designed to be accessible to academics and non-academics alike. I have chosen Prezi as the format for 3 reasons: 1. Talking about asexual Daryl Dixon is a fun topic for academics, fans, and queer folx alike; 2.  Prezi is a free, accessible service, meaning there are no gates of publication in the way of accessibility; and 3. Prezi allows academic discussion and artistic expression to co-exist for the purpose of the argument/story you want to tell. This particular presentation, "Why a 'Somewhat Asexual' Daryl Dixon is Not Enough: The Importance of Labels in Queer Media" is a particularly meaningful discussion I want to put out into the world--it is dedicated to one of my closest friends, who feels as though non-negative media representations of asexuality are few and far between. Now is the time to talk about asexuality, not as an absence, but as an equally whole and wonderful experience of existence--and a valuable piece of our society.” 

@vacationingatthepond, @everybodyownsascar, and I have been miles and miles apart, and we’re all connected daily through our love of Michael Sheen. We’ve jokingly termed the year, “Twenty-Nine-Sheen,” but he really did make my year today. Thank you, Michael. 

#Michael Sheen #Aziraphale #He is an actual angel though #Neil Gaiman #good omens #The Walking Dead #TWD #UT-Austin #Acafans #Crowdfunding #Gofundme #I am so happy right now #I love him so much

[lyssala]

Day 9  – Plot of Your Favorite Movie

Pairings: Terra & Aqua, Kingdom Hearts

Setting: Modern AU where Terra and Aqua are coworkers who do not get along, but unbeknownst to them, they are actually wonderful friends

Rating: K+

Words: 15377

Notes: Another fic I have wanted to do for ages! Its based off of You've Got Mail and the musical She Loves Me (both of which are based on the same source material). I've always loved the setup for these works and have always wanted to try my hand at doing an au with a similar setup. Also! Its a Christmas fic so Happy Holidays my friends!! (also in case you know/listen to the music, Vanilla Ice Cream was my signature audition song and it has such a special place in my heart, which is why the title is not Christmas related at all LOL)

As always a HUGE thanks to @mimiplaysgames who helped me edit this fic while she was on vacation. She really helped me cultivate the right tone for this fic (because its another sorta rival feelings one) and I can just NEVER thank her enough. She's amazing and SHE JUST UPDATED A FIC YESTERDAY so you all should go read it immediately <3

AO3

He Came to Offer Me Vanilla Ice Cream

Inspired By: Three Letters, Vanilla Ice Cream, She Loves Me (She Loves Me, 2016 Revival Cast)

Dear OftheShire,

I’m so sorry to hear you have to work so much over the holidays. I understand the feelings all too well, unfortunately. My saving grace is that I at least don’t get sick of listening to Christmas music! Customers, yes, absolutely, but hearing All I Want for Christmas for the tenth time on one shift keeps me going strong. I even sing along to the horror of my coworkers. I do love the holidays, and the high consumerism the holiday has turned into can’t take that away from me.

The weather, the music, the smells, the feeling of it just reminds me of being a little girl, hanging up my stocking and double checking the cookies I left out for Santa. I would be so ecstatic when there would be chunks missing in the cookies in the morning that I’d completely miss the crumbs in my dad’s beard! Did you believe in Santa too? (Also totally sorry to be the bearer of bad news if you still believed in Santa D: ) Some people find it cruel to let their kids believe only to then tell them it was a lie, but I have so many fond memories of trying to look for Santa on Christmas Eve and my mom playing along that she saw reindeer in the distance that I never found it cruel. If I ever have children, I think I’d like to share that with them too.

My parents live back in my home state, which, believe it or not, gets even colder than where I live now! I grew up really far north, which is wonderful in every other seasons but winter. Even growing up there can’t get me used to the cold and the snow. They’re actually coming to visit me for the first time since I started Grad school out here for Christmas! I can’t wait to see them. Are you close with your family?

Congratulations on being able to graduate next semester yourself! I still have a ways to go but the fact you’re already almost done gives me hope I can survive myself. What did you say you studied again? It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t seem to recall. That’s probably because I haven’t had my coffee yet, believe me that’s my first stop before class :P

I probably should get on that or I’m going to be late, another long day means multiple cups of coffee (and maybe a few cinnamon rolls).

--

The store was thankfully busy. Not so much for Terra who had to pay much more at attention than usual, but for the store itself. Sure they were the only bookstore in the mall, which helped significantly but at the same time they were independently owned and needed the revenue to keep the doors open.

He looked down the aisle he was standing nearby quickly and had to dodge a few younger kids running to the back of the store where the children’s books were.  One of their hands reached out to pull at one of the books but his friend shoved him to keep moving, making the book launch towards the floor. Terra reached out to grab it, placing it carefully back where it was supposed to go. Granted, judging by the complete disarray of every other shelf it really didn’t matter.

The moment he cleaned this aisle, it was a disaster again. He’d have to leave it for the afternoon when they’d be a little slower; the thought alone made him roll his eyes. That would thrill the afternoon shift lead he was sure.

Terra pulled his phone from his apron pocket, glancing at the clock. She’d be here in about an hour, but that also meant he got to leave soon which was more than enough to get him through the rest of his shift. He knew he should put his phone back in his pocket as he was on the floor; even if he was the lead he didn’t like to do things he didn’t let the kids do. Still he couldn’t resist peeking at his email.

Nothing.

He quickly opened the app just to see if he didn’t get a notification but there were no new messages there either.

“Terra!” a voice crackled so loudly in his hear he almost both dropped his phone and ripped the headpiece from his ear. “Terra, can you hear me?”

He reached up to grab the button hanging on the wire of his headset. “Yes, Sora, for the thousandth time, I can always hear you when you speak at a normal volume.”

“Sorry,” Sora’s voice was sheepish but Terra could practically see the smile on the younger boy’s lips. “I have a return. I got everything set up but I need your approval.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Excuse me, sir?” another voice said nearby but judging by the fact she wasn’t shouting his name it wasn’t one of his employees. “I was looking for something to get my grandson, but I’m unsure what to look for.”

When did this aisle get so full of people? Was the whole store full up again? Had an hour and a half gone by yet?

Terra leaned back hoping to catch the nearest employee he could see who wasn’t on register. Silver hair and blue eyes looked back at him, putting some books back. Terra gestured for him to come over.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have Riku help you find everything you need as I have to assist at the front, is that okay?”

The woman looked a little disgruntled at first but seemed to lighten up when Riku actually stepped into the aisle. “Yes, that’ll be fine. Come with me, young man.”

“I’m sorry,” Terra mouthed when Riku gave a wince but Terra had to keep moving to go finish out the return for Sora before he started yelling in Terra’s ear again. He probably wouldn’t even let Sora use it if he wasn’t always on registers; he was personable and quick, easy to strike a conversation and get the job done.

“Terra,” Sora said again, though this time in an exaggerated whisper. “They’re getting mad.”

Of course they were, everyone was so much more impatient as soon as the Christmas trees go up. He honestly felt that way sometimes too, but the words from his friend’s last message rang in his head. She sounded like she loved Christmas so much, and everything that went into it. For some reason it made him smile at her childlike glow even though all he knew was her typed words and nothing more. She just oozed passion in every message he got from her.

He tried not to think about it too much but it was hard not to; especially when he looked forward to what she was going to say to him next; what he would say to her helped him through these longs days. Terra knew he didn’t quite have a connection with every single person he met, so he was astounded to find that easy communication with her, even though they really never met. No name, no personal identification information, no pictures, just their messages back and forth. Still, it was something special to him.

Terra moved to step behind the register Sora was standing behind; he looked visibly relieved.

“Sorry, about that, Ma’am,” Terra said with a smile, as he leaned in to punch in his code that would let the return go through. He trusted Sora enough to do it right so there was no need to look over it. “You’re good to finish.”

“Thanks,” Sora said, moving back to go about the rest of the transaction as quick as his fingers would allow.

Terra moved to grab some of the books on the back counter that were probably other returns or go backs but really he just wanted to look over the store. There was a small line but with Sora on one and Xion on the other they’d handle registers just fine. Terra glanced around the store, scanning over the other employees scattered around working; if only to make sure everyone was actually working.

There was one missing, and usually it was hard to miss such red hair anywhere. Figures Lea was late. Terra would give Lea a little longer before he called. For the time being he went to place the books back and help on the floor. He had been working here since high school, he knew how to handle both the product and the people, even if he didn’t always characterize himself as a people person. He could still smile and help; though he usually found a lot of people went to the kids to ask for help instead. He apparently looked too intimidating to work at a bookstore.

In the very least, the busy days meant time went by faster. It also made him forget to keep looking at his phone to see if it went off at all. In fact before he knew it, he was turning to stand face to face with the afternoon lead.

“Jesus,” he grunted, taking a step back from her. “Do you have to sneak up on me?”

Aqua was shorter than him, but she was plenty loud; if she wanted to announce her presence she would’ve. Currently, she looked very disinterested in the fact she had to talk to him. Even still, her blue eyes were bright under the store lighting a small smile in the corner of her lips. He knew it absolutely didn’t have to do with him, and probably everything to do with that Christmas spirit she loved so much.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault you were off in your own head like always.”

He decided to ignore that, however, it was hard to ignore that Aqua was the only one who could look pretty under terrible mall lighting. He placed another book on the shelf in front of him. Terra may not get along with her but it wasn’t like he was blind. He knew the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled and how the shade of her eyes was so unique it was almost like the color of the ocean…not that he would admit that to her or anyone for that matter.

“Did you leave a list of what was done today and what still has to be done?”

“Always do,” he grunted, grabbing another book off the ground to put back.

She clicked her tongue, looking around the area. “This place looks like a mess.”

“Oh, did Scrooge happen to forget it’s only a few weeks before Christmas?”

“Cute, Terra, but you’re the one who hasn’t worn a single Christmas color to work, not me.”

He glanced over to her and sure enough she was wearing not only a red dress but green leggings and even a Santa hat over her blue hair. “Remember what I wear every day, do you?”

“Only your lack of any holiday spirit what so ever.” She reached over to push in a book on the bookshelf near his hand, because, clearly, only she could clean the store correctly.

A twinge of annoyance went down his spine. “Maybe if I didn’t have to listen to you nag at me every day I’d feel more festive.”

“I only nag you because if I didn’t, you’d day dream through the whole shift.”

Well, sort of fair; Terra knew he had a tendency to zone out at times but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. Thankfully, Lea chose that moment to scurry in behind the register, nudging Riku out of the way so he could log in and sneak in the back room. To Lea’s credit he almost had it, and Terra probably would’ve let it slide just because Lea was usually pretty creative when it came to excuses as to being late.

“Nice of you to join us, Lea,” Aqua said without turning her head to him as he snuck behind a bookshelf. “An hour late.”

“Yeah, you know, about that-”

“Go get ready for the shift, don’t worry I have a job for you.”

Lea grumbled something but slouched away probably to the back room.

“See you guys!” Sora waved as he headed out with Roxas and Xion both zipping up their jackets.

“See you,” Terra said, raising a hand to wave.

“See you tomorrow, Aqua,” Xion said, turning to wave goodbye herself.

“It’ll be fun,” Aqua smiled back at the kids who were hurrying to the front.

Terra must’ve scoffed too loud because she was looking back over at him. “Does that mean I’m done? Can I go home now?”

Kairi was already logging in on the register with Olette tying her apron around her back. It was still a little busy but they should be okay. Not that Terra was going to offer to stay to work with Aqua; she was such a control freak it was impossible to work with her.

“As long as you left me the list,” she said, walking away from him.

“I hope it’s up to your impeccable standards.”

Aqua wasn’t looking at him at all, not even a glance; she just continued to where the girls were probably going for the list he really did leave for her and to divvy up the jobs for the night.

“Yikes, dude.”

Terra nearly jumped at the sound of the voice right behind him. He turned his head to see way too familiar blond hair and blue eyes, and a toothy grin that told Terra not to trust whatever the next words were going to be.

“You’re really terrible at flirting.”

“Ventus,” Terra sighed, placing the last book in his arms on the correct shelf. “That was not even remotely what was going on. Not even a little bit.”

“Yeah, cause you got that mystery girl right?”

“I don’t…I don’t have anyone, okay.” Though Terra was tempted to pull out his phone to check to see if he had any new messages from the very person Ven was implying but that would only prove his little brother correct, and Terra didn’t need that right now. He did hope she had said something back though. “She’s just a nice person I talk to. Aqua on the other hand, I think we’d murder each other if we had to be in the same space for too long.”

“Whatever,” Ven snorted. “Are you done? I’m starving.”  

Terra glanced back up to the counter; Riku was ringing out someone as Lea was rushing up, hastily tying his apron. Aqua went over the plan with the girls but Terra couldn’t hear a thing. It would probably be strict down to the letter of what they’d have to do knowing Aqua. Ah well, it wasn’t his shift anymore anyways. “Yeah, let me get my things.”

--

Dear Bytheseaside,

I cannot believe there is a person on this planet that actually doesn’t get sick of that song. I’m pretty sure I’ve been sick of it for at least an eternity now. I guess that’s a testament to you though, patient through and through. I appreciate the holidays as well though I wish I didn’t have to work mostly through them all and I’m sorry to hear so do you. Granted I would like to see you singing along to the songs as you worked, I hope there’s dancing too, possibly a hair brush microphone? I’d assume go all out when it comes to Mariah Carey.

I’m so greatly offended that you could ever say that Santa Claus is not real. How could you think that me, a twenty-six year old male, would ever believe anything but that a man went to every house in the world one night on flying reindeer? To answer your question, yes, I did as a kid, so did my younger brother. Before you ask, no I didn’t tell him until he was old enough. He was an innocent kid, very naïve, very trusting, it actually sort of made me want to believe again just by having him believe it so much. I say that because he’s a pain in my ass now. It was fun though, I used to make cookies with him, leave out the milk, write Santa on some gift tags. Now he just makes cookies for himself. Sorry, Santa.

If that didn’t answer your question, I am close to my family though it’s just my brother, me and my dad. We all still live in the same place we grew up in so no drastic change like you had. I even go to grad school in the same town, I’m fairly boring honestly. I’ve traveled quite a lot for vacations since my dad and brother love to travel but otherwise we just stay put in our little town where it snows in the winter but I don’t think it’s too cold. That’s exciting you’ll get to visit with your parents soon! I honestly don’t think I could live that far away from mine, so you have all my respect that you just up and left to go study where you wanted to.

Oh, hey, thanks! It’s still a little surreal honestly. I never thought I’d ever see the end of school, especially at Midwestern where I go. I not only live in the town, but I went to undergrad there too. I’ve seen its buildings enough for my taste. Oh, it’s no worries, I have the joyful career of becoming an English teacher, aren’t you thrilled for me? I thankfully have experience working with high schoolers and they sometimes find me intimidating so I’m hoping that will carry over when I tell them they have to read The Scarlet Letter.

Okay, knowing you, there’s probably enough sugar in any given cup of coffee. I have no idea how you could stand cinnamon rolls on top of that too, but I guess I’m not surprised either. You could rival my brother’s love for sugar. Please don’t end up in a sugar coma before you even get to class :P

--

Aqua hummed as she hung up her jacket in the employee room. It was some mash up of Jingle Bells and Santa Claus is Coming to Town but she couldn’t help it. Christmas was so close now, her family would be visiting and everything just oozed with holiday cheer; especially the bells she clipped into her hair for today’s outfit. Even though she was stuck at work all night she felt warm and light, like nothing could quite get under her skin; she sure hoped it stayed the case considering the closer to Christmas, the ruder customers got. Oh well, she’d meet it with a smile, it was the only way to get through the day.

She tied her apron behind her back, slipping her phone in the front pocket (though not without checking her messages first, though so far it was as empty as it was when she left for work). It was okay, he worked a lot too and always was in school; he was probably as busy as she was. The fact he even made time for a few messages was still enough to keep her good mood up.

Aqua kept humming, glancing up at the written schedule on the board to see who she was working with tonight. Everyone had different strengths so she liked to place jobs with people who would excel at them, and it would make their time go by a little faster when they weren’t forced to do something they hated. It was pretty typical; Kairi, Lea, the twins, Xion, Riku, and….no, wait, that had to be a mistake. She reached up to trace the dates, bringing her finger down to make sure she was reading it right.

The door opened making her turn her head, but the person shuffling into the room only confirmed she was reading the schedule correctly. “Terra?”

“In the flesh,” he snorted, but his back was to her as he was shrugging off his jacket; his way-too-light jacket for this weather, what was wrong with that man?

“Is this a mistake?”

“Wish it was,” he said, reaching for his apron to drop over his head. “I’d much rather be home.”

Aqua pressed her lips together, looking back at the schedule. Well, it was only two weeks till Christmas, she supposed she could understand why they may want to schedule two leads but at the same time, did it have to be him?

She didn’t hate Terra. He was a nice guy, quiet and he was very patient with customers and the kids who worked here; in fact she was pretty sure he had more patience in one fraction of his body than she possessed all together. At the same time though, he was so laid back he let things slide far too much which drove her crazy. She could deal with it when it was just in passing, when he told her what was done all morning so she knew what to fix all night, but working a whole shift together?

She looked up at the future days she was scheduled and had to bite back a groan. For everyday she was scheduled until Christmas they were working together? Okay, she was coming in tomorrow morning to talk to someone about this or she’d likely not make it till Christmas.

“Okay,” she said, turning around to face Terra. He wasn’t looking at her, but down at his phone, scrolling through something. “I assume neither of us care for this arraignment?”

“Fair assessment,” he said, still not looking up.

“Then let’s split up the store. I’ll handle the front half and you handle the back half. Registers will be neutral.”

“What is this?” Terra did look up that time, arching an eyebrow at her. “A war meeting?”

“It’s retail in Christmas, of course it’s a war meeting.”

Much to her surprise he actually smiled at her. Well, he also rolled his eyes and shook his head but still. Terra dropped his phone in his apron pocket, before grabbing a headset to put in is ear, clipping the radio into his back pocket as he walked back over to the door. “Fine, should I lay down a boundary line to make sure no one crosses it?”

“Of course, I’ll give you money to buy the duct tape.”

“I have a brother, believe me, I know how to handle boundary lines.” Terra went to push the door open but it swung open on itself.

“No one can say anything,” Lea said as he walked in, pointing to the both of them. “I’m on time today.”

“Christmas miracles,” Terra said, reaching out to push at Lea’s head before Terra caught the door open, leaving without another word.

“Good, because if you were late one more time I was going to put you on register the whole night just because I know how much you love it,” Aqua said, watching as Lea shrugged out of his long jacket.

“Wait,” he arched an eyebrow as he looked back at her. “Are you and Terra both working tonight?”

“Ah, yeah, seems like the boss wants more hands at night.”

Lea got this grin on his lips, devilish almost, not that the flaming red hair helped. “Oh, this is going to be a grand night.”

Aqua decided not to ask what he meant by that and moved to grab a headset and radio before leaving the room to head to the floor; there at least she could assign the other workers their jobs. She hoped everything went quickly and smoothly. She really wasn’t in the mood to bicker with Terra all night.

Thankfully, he seemed to feel the same.

For the most part it was easy to help customers at the front of the store, keeping an eye on the registers, straightening and restocking when she could. The customer volume was absolutely going up every day so she could understand why there were two leads on the floor but that didn’t mean she was completely happy about it. Though to his credit Terra stayed to the back of the store and helped any customers she sent that way. She knew he’d prefer to be back there as opposed to the front where she got the brunt of the social force.

“Permission to step across the boundary, your highness?”

She looked up from straightening some self-help books to see Terra with both his hands up in defense. “Depends, what’s your business?”

“I would very much like to leave the store to get dinner.”

Was it that time already? Aqua glanced over to the registers where Sora and Xion were busy ringing out. Roxas was probably still in the kid’s section fixing the display she asked him to adjust, Riku was upfront helping someone with the new releases, and while Aqua couldn’t see Lea or Kairi they were probably wandering around somewhere.

“I’ll even throw the incentive to check the back of the store to make sure my standards are as high as yours.” He was watching her but his hands were in the front of his apron, probably fiddling with his phone or something.

“Why do you think we’re so busy?” she asked, pushing another book back into place. “High standards.”

“Oh, yeah, nothing to do with the fact we’re the only book store in the nearest 50 mile radius,” he snorted.

Okay, fair point; not that she was going to tell him that. “Yes, you can go, just tell me when you’re finished so I can take mine too.”

“Oh, she takes breaks does she?”

“Don’t be such an ass,” she said, but admittedly was choking back a small laugh. Aqua would just toss that up to the fact she was still in plenty of a good mood. “Just go.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” Terra gave a vague sort of wave as he walked towards the front of the store until he was completely out of sight.

“Do you even think they know?” Lea’s voice said from nearby, but Aqua didn’t pay too much attention to it, she just went back to fixing the shelves she was working on.

“Oh, God, no,” Kairi giggled. “They would never flirt with each other as much as they do if they knew they were doing it.”

Aqua did turn to look that time, which was the only reason she knew they were talking about her; considering both Lea and Kairi were peering around the end of the bookshelves in that row watching her with near matching shit-eating grins on their lips. Aqua had to ignore the heat that rose to her face that the insane implication she would ever flirt with Terra, or vice versa for that matter. That was absurd. You didn’t flirt with people you could barely be in the same room with.

“No way,” she said pointing towards them. “How many times have I told you both, you aren’t allowed to work near each other. All you do is talk and gossip. Lea, go make sure kids haven’t bombarded Roxas in the children’s section, then go make sure everyone has been helped. Kairi, please start on the other end of this row with me.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Lea said, vanishing behind the shelves.

Kairi was still giggling but she started straightening the books like she was asked. Aqua wanted to ask the younger girl how they got it in their heads that either Terra or herself would ever consider flirting with each other, but at the same time she didn’t want to open that door. Ever.

Aqua’s phone buzzed and her heart leapt up to her throat. She really knew she couldn’t look, and she shouldn’t look, it set a bad example; she wasn’t always as disciplined as she looked though. She pushed her apron pocket open, peeking down at the bright screen with her heart pounding in her chest. It promptly sunk into her stomach when she saw it was just an email telling her about some sale.

“Message from the mystery man?”

Aqua’s head snapped up to see Kairi still looking at the books as she worked on, making them look neat again. It wasn’t a terrible surprise as Kairi tended to work afternoon shifts with Aqua, and she may have mentioned she was talking to someone a few times. “Ah, no, not this time.”

“Do you know his name yet?”

“No, but that’s okay,” Aqua said, taking a small breath before going back to her job.

“Aren’t you worried he’s like sixty years old or something? Or like a murderer?”

“I’m not saying everyone you meet on the internet is good,” Aqua said. “But when you talk to someone enough, you just sort of…know them. I don’t know, I may not know his name or what he looks like but he’s sweet.” She paused. “And he said he was twenty-six so he’s only a little bit older than me.”

“Do you feel like you know him already then?” Kairi asked. She wasn’t teasing this time, genuinely curious.

“Sort of,” Aqua said, a smile pulling at her lips at just the thought of their conversations. “He’s very kind, and articulate. He’s said once or twice people find him intimidating but to me he just seems so gentle, you know? Especially when he talks about his little brother. I know what he likes to do for fun, favorite foods, movies, what he wants to do for a living, and ah…”

“What?”

Aqua paused for a moment, feeling a small bundle of nerves in her stomach again. He mentioned it so briefly in his last message and she had been torn over what to do about it ever since…if she even wanted to do something about it. “He sorta mentioned where he went to college.”

“Was it bad? Oh wait, was it good? Like Ivy League good?”

“No, well, I mean good but…it’s where I go to school.”

Kairi nearly dropped the book she was holding. “Wait, you guys go to the same school and don’t even know it?”

Aqua nodded; it had been about her same reaction when she read that one sentence. He probably didn’t even mean to say since up till then, they never gave away and facts that led onto where they lived.

“You could know him in real life and not even know it.”

“I think I’d know it,” she rolled her eyes. Aqua may not know him at sight, but she was pretty sure from having a conversation with him that she’d be able to tell how he talked, how he presented himself. She still paused, looking over to Kairi. “Should I ask him to meet? Like on campus or something? Would that be too much?”

“I mean, I don’t think it would be too much,” Kairi shrugged. “People meet online all the time these days. It just depends on how comfortable you feel about it or if you like the mystery more than the man.”

Aqua knew the answer to that question. She’d love to meet him, to sit across the table from him over some warm coffee, to see if how she pictured his voice was really how it was, to hear his laugh, see his smile. The thoughts alone made her stomach flip anxiously. What if he wasn’t anything like how she pictured? Would it make a difference?

“I think I would…” Aqua started. “Meet him that is.”

“Then ask him,” Kairi said, standing up on her toes to get a book on the top shelf. “Worst he could say is no and then you’re no worse off than you are now.”

That was a good point. Aqua squatted down towards the floor to fix a few books. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to ask. Maybe he’d like it too. Maybe he wouldn’t but then they could still talk just like they have been. She thought about meeting him so many times before now, ever since she sent that first message a few months ago.

She liked him, more than she cared to admit to anyone but herself. It was silly maybe, but he always brought a smile to her face, that had to be worth something. It had to be worth a risk.

--

Dear OftheShire,

Of course there’s dancing, geez, boy, do you even know me?? Not a hairbrush, no, but absolutely any candy cane shaped object I can find. It’s been described as both a wonder and a hot mess so I take that with very high regard. If you ever wander into where I work I’ll be sure to show you, and probably embarrass you and myself so much you’ll never want to be seen in public with me lmao

That’s right! I forgot you mentioned your little brother before. Well, you sound like a great big brother to play along with the façade, even just for his sake. I don’t have any siblings myself so I never got to share the joy of having to share my room or bathroom with anyone. He seems very sweet, even if you insist he’s a pain in your ass (ps I can totally tell you love him, don’t play so cool :P ) Plus he sounds like he likes sweets as much as me so I can get behind that!

It’s so sweet you’re so close to your family too! So much that you don’t consider leaving them, that tells me a lot about you and how much they must love you too :D Okay, wait, how have we been talking so much and you never told me you traveled! I haven’t gotten to do so very much but I’ve always wanted to. Are we talking like “oh, hey, I just get around the country every so often” or “I’m a damn world traveler and have eaten things you’d never dreamed of and can speak five languages on command”? I mean both are cool, but I need to know which one it is.

Savor it, my friend! Especially as a teacher, cause, hate to break it to you but technically you’re going to be in school for a very long time. High school too? Wow, you’re a brave man! See, you keep saying people find you intimidating, but, like, to me you seem so mellow and gentle? Is it something about you physically? Are you like a seven foot football player or wrestler or something? Also, excuse you, don’t judge my sugar intake, I’m perfectly capable of not dying from sugar intake, :P (More reasons why I love your brother already too)

Hey, so, weird thing. I sort of go to Midwestern too. Small world right! I can’t believe we’ve been talking for so long and we could be in the same class. How weird is that? I was wondering if maybe you wanted to meet for coffee on campus or something? At that little café in the library? Like this Thursday? Please don’t feel like you have to! But I thought it might be nice to actually see each other in person since we happened to actually live in the same town. I can like wear bells in my hair and have a copy of The Hobbit since I know that was your favorite book as a kid so you know it’s me. Just let me know!

--

“I don’t know why I had to come with you,” Ven said as he walked down the sidewalk next to Terra. That statement, of course, was accompanied by Ven’s big grin, meaning he was highly amused that his older brother asked him to come with him to a possible, maybe, sort of, kind of date.

Was it? Terra had no idea, but he’d never claim to be good at picking up on things like that. All he knew was he stared at her message for a lot longer than he should’ve, even stunned that someone as nice as her would actually want to see him in person. It was easy to agree then, to feel excited to finally meet the person behind the words but now that he was walking towards the campus library, the bright lights from the building looming over him, all he felt like was throwing up.

“Even if she was a murderer I’m pretty sure you could take her,” Ven continued.

“I don’t think she’s a murderer,” Terra snorted, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “Or even a threat.”

“I hate to break it to you, Ter, but you aren’t always the best judge of character.”

That was…fair. “Can’t you be good, quiet moral support?”

Ven clicked his tongue looking up to the building. “If you wanted quiet support you probably should’ve brought like Riku from your work or something. I’m your brother, I’m legally entitled to give you a hard time.”

“I don’t think that’s true. If me and dad both die then you’re legally entitled to my things I guess.”

Ven whistled. “Books, books, and more books I’m so thrilled.”

Terra reached out to shove at Ven’s head, making the younger boy laugh. It was why Terra bought Ven in the first place; if anyone could make Terra not get wrapped up too much in his own thoughts, it was Ven.

“There it is,” he said, pointing to a particularly well illuminated section of the library. It was easy to see through the large windows where students were in line to get a late night caffeine fix or snacks; it was fairly late, he had to wait till he was off work to even come since Aqua already requested the night off and someone had to be there.

“Don’t look so nervous.” Ven nudged Terra’s shoulder. “She already likes you enough to talk to you all the time, this is just without a screen in between. No big deal.” Ven reached for the door handle, but Terra pulled Ven away from it.

“God, what?” he asked, arching an eyebrow up.

Terra knew he was acting sort of childish but he couldn’t help but feel the nerves in his stomach reaching up through his chest. “What if she isn’t even there?”

Ven paused for a second before grabbing a hold of Terra’s arm, dragging him over to one of the side windows. Ven leaned up close to the glass leaving Terra out of view so that way Ven would be the one seen if anyone looked over. “Okay, what did she say she was wearing again?”

He was a good brother. “Ah, she said she’d have bells in her hair, and a book, The Hobbit.”

“You guys are such nerds,” Ven snorted. “Alright, alright, let me…see…” He let out a low whistle that made Terra look up.

“Wait, what? Is that good or bad?”

“I dunno, man, she doesn’t really look your type but she does look like mine, maybe I should go in instead of you.”

It took Terra a moment with his heart nearly in his throat to realize Ven was teasing. “You’re a shit, will you tell me the truth?”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Ven laughed, looking back into the café. “Alright so, bells in the hair is kind of common around Christmas, but the book would be an easier…way…to tell, ummm…Oh!”

“What? Do you see her?” Terra asked, nearly going up behind Ven to see too.

Ven was quiet for a second, and he wasn’t teasing anymore which didn’t bode well. “Ah, well, she’s your type for sure, but you’re probably not going to like it.”

Terra had no idea what that was supposed to mean. He quickly slipped in next to Ven who nodded over to a table off to the side of the café. Terra saw the book first, fingers tapping on the cover, anxiously, impatiently maybe. Maybe he should’ve known before he even looked at her face, the familiar shade of blue hair, eyes he already knew glancing over at the door when it opened. Hell, he even knew the bells she was wearing in her hair.

He quickly turned around, leaning his back against the window instead. This couldn’t be…it was a joke right? The girl, the kind, funny, compassionate girl he had been talking to for months it…couldn’t be Aqua, could it?

It had to be. He didn’t tell anyone but Ven, who may tease Terra sure but would never do anything cruel to him. Maybe the girl had said something to someone else? Like she was nervous to meet him too so she said something to a friend who offered to wait for her, that friend unknowingly being Aqua.

Terra turned his head to look back in the room to see if anything could confirm that theory. It didn’t though, not when he saw the hope flicker in her eyes every time someone walked in, anytime someone got too close to her table for it to fade away, her fingers still tapping anxiously at book cover.

It was her; there was no one else it could be. How could it be her? The girl he talked to was nothing like the Aqua he was forced to work with.

“Terra,” Ven said, like he was very much doubting that Terra was going to move. “You have to go in there, you know that right?”

“I can’t,” he groaned, leaning his head back against the glass. “If she knows it’s me she’ll just be mad and she’ll never talk to me again.”

“So you’re going to leave a person, that I know you’ve been trying to hide how much you like, just waiting for you cause you found out you really do know them?”

“That’s the problem. I do know her and now I feel like I know two completely different people sharing the same body.”

Ven arched an eyebrow. “Do you though?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you know her? Maybe the girl online is really how she is and you never gave her the chance to be that way around you.”

Terra didn’t like that Ven was making sense. He was barely graduated from high school; it shouldn’t be possible for him to make assumptions like that. “It doesn’t change the fact that if she sees me, she’s going to make me leave. I can guarantee you I’m not the person she wants to see.”

“So what, you’re just going to stand her up? I’m sure she was looking forward to this as much as you were and she’ll leave here wondering why her friend didn’t want to meet her.”

Ven was laying on the guilt there but it was working. Terra didn’t always get along with Aqua but he didn’t hate her, and he really didn’t hate the girl he talked to on the internet; he wouldn’t want either of them to feel stood up.

“Okay,” Terra said, reaching a hand up to run through his hair. “Okay, I’ll go. But you’re getting an ‘I told you so’ if she kicks me out without letting me explain.”

Ven didn’t say anything else, he just gestured to the door. Terra did what he said and opened the door to the café, stepping inside. He tried not to look at her, knowing she was still watching everyone who walked in. He thought he felt Ven slip in behind but Terra lost track of his brother when he did make eye contact with Aqua.

She looked a little confused, like she was surprised he was there. Did she even know they went to the same school? Probably not; it wasn’t like they talked much, especially if it wasn’t work related. He walked over to the table she was sitting at, though he still had no idea what he was going to do let alone say.

“Hey,” he said, which was at least a start.

“Ah, hey,” Aqua said, still a confused look on her face. “I didn’t know you went to school here.”

That answered that question. “Hm, yeah, I do. What’re you doing here so late?”

Her face flushed slightly, she was embarrassed; it wasn’t a look he was used to on her. “Oh, I was just waiting for someone.”

“This late at night?”

“He had to work.”

“He, huh,” Terra said, pulling out the empty chair from the table. “On a date then?”

She flushed again and he did feel bad. He never saw Aqua be embarrassed in as long as he knew her. She always rolled with the punches, and stood her ground; which he did admire about her if he was being honest. “Who said it was your business?”

Terra shrugged, trying to ignore the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach as he sat down. It was a strange mix of still being in shock that Aqua was his mystery girl and the fluttering feeling fact that she wasn’t denying it could’ve been a date.  It was so conflicting and made him sort of want to throw up. “It’s not, I was only asking.”

The door opened behind him and Aqua’s head immediately snapped over to look. She watched the guy walk in but looked away when he made no motion to walk over to her.

“Blind date?” he asked, propping his elbow up on the table. He knew he should tell her, it was cruel to pretend it wasn’t him, but at the same time he couldn’t actually get the words to form in his head let alone come out.

Aqua glanced back to him, like she was surprised he was still there. “I guess you could say that.”

“Friend of a friend?”

“No,” she said, looking down to the book still on the table. “Ah, I met him online.”

Terra whistled. “You keep looking for him, I’m guessing he’s late?”

She hesitated. “It’s an unusual hour, he could be running behind.”

“And didn’t even tell you? Not the best first impression.”

She arched an eyebrow. “He’s actually a very nice person. I think if he’s running late he has a good reason to be.”

Terra felt a slight bit of exhilaration that she was standing up for him, that she thought he was a good person who wouldn’t stand anyone up. Based only on their conversations she actually wanted to see him, she looked forward to it. It only made him feel sicker that she was so wrong without even knowing it. “Sure hope so, better than chickening out.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” That exasperated tone he knew well, but now he couldn’t stop seeing the softer look in her eyes, her tone in the way she excitedly told him about her days, about how much she loved Christmas.

It would’ve been easy to say, “Yeah, right here” or anything to tell her that he was the one she was waiting for but she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but near him. Despite expecting this was how it was going to be, it hurt. Not just because this was the girl he looked forward to getting messages from, the girl who got him through the long days, that made the holidays seem a little brighter this year, but because something in the way he behaved towards her made her feel like she had to be harsh with him.

Maybe if he had been kinder at work, maybe if he listened instead of writing her off as a control freak, if he understood how she operated, if he was more patient, he would’ve seen the girl behind the screen while he was at work. Maybe he would’ve seen her eyes light up when it was him who walked through the room and maybe he would’ve liked it, loved it even.  

But it wasn’t what happened and now he couldn’t tell her, he couldn’t ever tell her. Terra wasn’t sure he could bear seeing that disappointment in her eyes. It would be easier for her to feel stood up than for him to crush her dreams that her mystery guy was none other than the person she hated.

“Yeah, I do,” Terra said, pushing himself up to his feet.

She was watching him but he couldn’t quite read her.

He leaned forward to tap the cover of the book. “Good choice,” he said. “I always liked it too.”

If she moved to say anything to him, he didn’t see it. He turned around to head back to the door, Ven scrambling off a stool to follow behind. He at least didn’t say anything as they walked in silence to Terra’s car. The disappointment only sunk in harder the farther he got away from the café. It wasn’t even that it was Aqua, that it was always Aqua - it was only in himself.

He didn’t even care to tell Ven ‘I told you so’ at any point.

--

Dear Bytheseaside,

Of course there is, how silly of me to assume otherwise. I appreciate your level of shamelessness in the least but it would take more than that to drive me off I think. Little brother, remember? I can take a lot of embarrassment. Speaking of, he’s alright. He just graduated high school and will be starting college in the spring much to my dreaded realization that time has gone by way too fast for me. Jokes aside he’s a great kid. Smart and generous, also sarcastic and snarky and sometimes I want to kill him but usually I love him. I think he very well could rival your love for sweets. You two would be peas in a pod honestly.

I mean, I can’t speak five languages in the least. Bits and pieces maybe, but not fluently. I have been around this country quite a bit but also places around the world. My dad traveled a lot before me and my brother so he took use when we were old enough. It’s always been fun, and yes, I have eaten things you’ve probably never dreamed of. It’s actually why my brother is starting college late, we had a trip planned for his graduation that interfered with some deadlines.

I can assure you I’m not a football player or a wrestler, I’m actually not really a sports person. I played in high school cause they made me but I never cared much for it. I’m not seven feet tall either, though maybe a little taller than average; maybe that freaks people out, I don’t know. I like to think I’m pretty mellow. You know, I’m not entirely sure you are capable of that. I’d be afraid to ever let you two in the same room, I may come back to find the place littered with all the sweets you two could find.

Wait, seriously? How did we never know we went to the same school? Let alone live in the same vicinity. You can say small world again. But, yeah, I mean, I’d totally be cool with that! I checked the work schedule and Thursday was already requested off so I can’t take it, but I can meet you after work if that’s okay? I’d actually really like it a lot. I’ll look for the bells and the book!

--

Aqua wasn’t sure if it was the cold weather and busy work schedule mixed with finals last week that knocked her out but all she knew was she tried to get up for work and there was just no way. She never called off but she didn’t have a choice. There was no way to open when she couldn’t even move from her bed; she felt like she got hit by a tuck the way her whole body ached, her nose wouldn’t stop running, she could barely eat anything in her apartment. It was probably for the best, all it would be was a day of sulking when she was supposed to be working. At least home she could pull the blankets over her head and pretend there wasn’t a terrible ache in her heart.

He never came.

She waited for hours, and then more time in hopes he’d walk in and recognize her sitting there. He never did. Aqua kept her phone out in case he messaged her that something came up but nothing, not a word. She didn’t know how to feel; if she should be heartbroken that the person she wanted to meet so badly didn’t feel the same. She worried that something happened to him, or nervous she did something to keep him away.

It only just resulted in her crying alone in her bed most the night, then to wake up with a pounding headache and feeling even more terrible. Aqua hadn’t known it was possible. She felt so stupid sitting there, and even more stupid going home alone, and just so sad. He was also so kind, so interested in what she had to say, so engaging she couldn’t understand what happened. He even sounded like he really wanted to meet her. Was it a lie to make her feel better and he never intended to come? That didn’t sound like him; he was always so open and honest. Still, she figured maybe you can’t always know someone just from the internet.

She reached her hand around the comforter covering her, trying to reach for the tissue box. Her nose was raw from blowing it so much but what else could she do but sit here and feel bad for herself? Tifa offered to come over and talk but Aqua just didn’t feel like talking to anyone. She cracked an eye open to look at her phone but no messages.

Clearly the one person she wanted to talk to didn’t want to talk to her.

She was maybe being melodramatic, she barely knew this person outside from long conversations reaching on for weeks but then again, wasn’t that enough to be able to know someone? Aqua groaned as she pulled the blankets over her head. She didn’t want to think anymore. She just wanted to go to sleep and pretend none of this happened. She should’ve never suggested going to meet him.

Except there was a part of her that still wanted to meet him.

Aqua slowly pulled the blanket down to her chest when she thought she heard something. She tried to listen to the quiet apartment, but there was nothing. No, wait…maybe there was something? Maybe she was delusional too? Someone was knocking on her door? Were they or was she imagining it?

Her phone buzzed and against her better judgment she nearly dove for it. The message waiting for her wasn’t anything like what she expected though.

Terra Hale (Work)

               Aqua, your neighbors are starting to look at me strangely. Can you open the door?

She blinked at the screen, trying to make sure she was reading that right. Yeah, they had each other’s numbers because they had to but he never texted her anything that wasn’t work related and even that was few and far between.

               Wait, are you here? Like at my door?

It wasn’t an unreasonable thing to ask, she didn’t even think Terra knew where she lived let alone ever been here before. Granted, he did use her name so it probably wasn’t a wrong number text.

Terra Hale (Work)

No, I’m asking you to open your door because I’m across town at someone else’s door. Yes, I’m standing here. It won’t take long, I know you’re sick.

Aqua knew she wasn’t feeling well but now she felt like she was in some weird alternative dimension. Was she dreaming? She had to be. Still she found herself kicking her legs over the side of her bed to stand up on shaky legs. Should she let him in? She probably looked like a terrible mess; red faced, red nosed, red eyed, not showered, bed head, the same PJ’s on from last night. Yep, he was probably going to tease her and never let her live this down.

She grabbed a thinner blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, hopefully covering some of disheveled state. Aqua didn’t like people seeing her less than at her best, let alone someone who didn’t even seem to like her at her best. She shuffled through her small living room and kitchen to the door. It was still chained shut, so she opened it only as far as the chain went.

Sure enough there was Terra standing there. He was still in his work uniform, typical thin jacket on. He had some sort of bag in his hands but his eyes were glancing down at her before looking up to the chain lock.

“I promise I’m not trying to rob you.”

Aqua hesitated. “Are you here because I called off and made you work?”

His face was almost unreadable but he didn’t look mad, or even annoyed. “No, I’m here because Leon said you called off and you’ve never done that in the time I’ve known you so I figured it was serious.” Terra held up the white plastic bag slightly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She wasn’t sure how much she believed him since he never seemed to care about her wellbeing before but Aqua also didn’t want to leave the poor guy just standing there when he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. She reached up to unhook the chain, pulling the door open.

He stepped in, closing the door behind him while Aqua quickly retreated to the kitchen which was closer than the living room.

“Do you, ah, want any…” She paused to reach her arm to her face, sneezing far louder than she wanted to. “Coffee? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” he said, though she was surprised to see a small smile on his lips. “You should go back to bed.”

“I’m fine,” she said, but her nose betrayed her, sounding gross and stuffy. Great, this was just wonderful.

Terra placed the bag on her counter, undoing the knot on the top. “I brought you some soup,” he said, pulling out a large Tupperware contained that looked full to the brim with some sort of chicken soup. “It just needs to be heated up. It’s my dad’s recipe, real good I promise. He used to make it for me and my brother when we were sick too.”

Aqua couldn’t help but eye him as he placed the container in the fridge for her. “Oh, wow, well thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was nothing,” he shrugged, reaching back for the bag. “I also brought some tea leaves, another special blend my dad always gave us. Do you have a teapot or anything?”

“Ah…” Aqua fiddled with the edge of her blanket. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she let Terra inside but this was absolutely not it. “Yeah, on the stove.”

He turned to grab it, filling it up with some water from the sink. While she wasn’t used to Terra being so…accommodating to her, she knew if she asked him to leave he would but she couldn’t find those words. She was more curious as to why he was being so accommodating; especially after how rude she was to him last night. Guilt swirled in the pit of her stomach, making her feel worse than she already did. She tried to tell herself he deserved it, that he was always abrasive at work so what else was she supposed to do? But at the same time, here he was pulling a mug off her drying rack to put near the tea he brought.

He turned the stove on, the clicks filling the otherwise quiet kitchen. “Go on back to bed, I’ll bring you some when it’s done and get out of your hair.”

She bit down on her lip, watching him as he popped open the container of tea leaves. She never really had tea without a tea bag before; she didn’t even know Terra liked tea. Come to think of it, she didn’t know very much about him in the first place. “I’m fine,” she said again, though she promptly sneezed again.

He looked up from pouring the tea leaves into the mug, a sort of knowing smile on his lips.

“I, um…” Aqua was really unsure what to even say. They never had a conversation without bickering before. “I’ll take your shift tomorrow.” She had to pause to sniffle even if it was incredibly embarrassing. “To make up for making you work today.”

“No need,” he said. “You keep your day off, you may need another day to rest and feel better.”

“No, no, it’s only fai-” Another sneeze. “Fair.”

“You’re clearly exhausted and overworked,” he said, sealing the cap back on the tea. “You need the rest and you need to go back to bed.”

“Really, I’m fi…” she paused when she saw him coming towards her. “Fine, I’m fine.”

He hummed like he really didn’t believe her which he clearly didn’t because the next thing he had picked her up over his shoulder.

“Terra!” she gasped, instinctively reaching down to grab him and keep her balance but she was more amazed at how effortlessly he carried her. She should be furious at him for touching her when she didn’t need to be but instead all she felt was a sort of warmth from his body, it was comforting in a weird way. That someone came out all the way just to take care of her.

It was sweet, even though she never thought to describe Terra that way.

He gently placed her down on her bed moving out of the way as she could only stare up at him in surprise. “I’m sorry if I intruded,” he said holding his hands up slightly. “But if I knew anything about you it was that you probably wouldn’t ask for help and were just sitting here suffering alone. I thought I’d help even a little bit.”

It was sweet, it was really sweet. She even smiled a little bit. “Well, thank you.” Aqua kicked her legs up onto her bed as he reached down to pull the comforter up over her. “I take it as a big brother you know how to take care of someone with a cold?”

He sat down on the edge of her bed, reaching over to briefly place his hand on her forehead. “And a fever, yes.”

She rolled her head on her pillow, looking up to meet his blue eyes. Were they always that blue? That compassionate? She didn’t know.

“Hey,” he said. “Did the person you were supposed to meet ever show up?”

Aqua felt her stomach sink at the mention even though it wasn’t an unusual thing to ask. “No,” she said. “He never did.”

Terra clicked his tongue in thought and she was sure something snarky was about to follow. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. You deserve better than being stood up like that. He’s an idiot for doing that to you.”

Aqua felt like she was staring but she couldn’t help it; of all the things she was expecting that was not it. Who was this and what had he done with Terra? Maybe it always was Terra but she was too stubborn to see the boy who lived behind her coworker. “Ah, well, thank you, that’s sweet of you.”

She paused for a second. On any normal circumstances she would never even consider opening her mouth to say what she was thinking to him, but he was here and he was being so nice, and she was admittedly not in her right mind. “Do you think…” she started, biting down at her lip to voice the one thought she couldn’t get out of her head. “Do you think he was there? And he took one look at me and left? Do you think it was me?”

“No,” Terra said quickly. “I don’t think that would ever be the case. You’re pretty, any guy would be lucky to look in and see you sitting there. Maybe something came up and he wasn’t able to tell you, or maybe he was too nervous to show his face. I don’t think it was you.”

Aqua stared at him; she didn’t expect him to say anything like that to her, not now not ever.

“I’m also, ah…” He glanced away, looking over her probably terribly messy room. “I’m sorry for intruding on you last night.”

“Oh, ah, it’s okay.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I was just nervous.”

He opened his mouth to say something but the teapot whistled from the other room. He got up with a slight smile and left her room. Aqua could only watch after him.

This was…a weird day. Seeing this small glimpse of him though…it was just astounding to her; maybe this was the real Terra. Sure he was laid back and didn’t hold the rules as high of a regard as she did, but maybe that was because he was understanding and wanted to give everyone a chance. He never punished Lea for being late, or Sora for mixing up an order, or Kairi for chatting too much but maybe it was because he was empathetic, understanding how and why they did the things they did.

Maybe there was a lot of him she didn’t even know.

“Okay,” he said, coming in with two cups in his hands. “Tea is in the mug though it’s very hot so be careful. Water is in the glass because with a fever, you should stay hydrated.”

The tea smelt so good, herbal spices mixing to remind her of an autumn day. She carefully took the mug from him, the steam and warmth making her feel better already.

He placed the water on her night stand, sticking his hands in his jacket pocket as he looked down at her. “Try and stay in bed and get some sleep. I left the tea leaves out in case you want more and soup is still in the fridge. If you need more or want anything different to eat or anything really, you have my number. I don’t live that far away.”

Aqua looked up at him. She was used to how he looked, how he dressed, his facial expressions, his mannerisms but this time it was like seeing a whole different person. “Thank you, Terra, I really mean it.”

“Any time,” he said, reaching a hand up to wave. “Get some rest.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “See you.”

“Bye.” He gave her a slight smile before turning to leave, the sound of her door closing shut was the last thing she heard of him.

What had seriously just happened? She could barely wrap her mind around it as she sipped on her tea. A part of her still wondered if she was dreaming but as she looked down at her quiet phone she did realize one thing.

At least for a little bit she stopped wondering why her friend hadn’t messaged her about last night.

--

Dear OftheShire,

I do hope all is well and nothing serious happened that caused you not to be able to make it. Maybe there was a misunderstanding somewhere along the way (maybe we really weren’t talking about the same schools?). Whatever the case, I hope I haven’t done anything that would’ve kept you away. I’d feel terrible if I made you feel pressured or scared in any way. All I really wanted to do was talk to the person whose company I’ve been enjoying so much!

I hope this doesn’t change anything between us because I would greatly miss being friends with you. If you thinking meeting in person is a bad idea, I’ll never bring it up again! Things can completely stay the same between us here.

I do hope all is well though. Just let me know so I don’t worry too much about you!

--

It was strange how you could go from barely thinking about someone to go to never getting them out of your mind. Maybe it was because Terra finally stopped distinguishing Aqua, the girl he worked with from Aqua, the girl he really liked online. They were both the same people, and he could see that now clearly. He never bothered to before, but seeing the soft look in her eyes as she asked him if he thought it was her that made her date run away, slipping Xion some money so she could go buy herself a sugary coffee, watching how she helped the seven year old girl pick out a present for her mom, how Aqua sang along with the radio when she thought no one was looking, the grin on her face when she teased Lea for flirting with customers again, it was all the same Aqua.

He couldn’t believe he never saw it before.

The few days she was gone from work to recover dragged on and on. He wanted to check up on her but he didn’t want to intrude, once was enough for his heart that nearly pounded out of his chest the entire time he was there. He hoped she’d text him but she never did. He knew he could respond to her waiting message but it didn’t feel right; not after what he did, not after what he knew. Terra felt terrible lying to her even at her apartment but he just didn’t know what he could say that would make any of this right.

He tried to when she did come back to work but all that came out was asking her if she needed more tea and that the magazines looked like a tornado went through them. Terra never admitted to be very smooth.

No, instead he found himself just sort of lingering around the store, trying to keep to himself or help her and the other kids when they needed it. Thankfully with only one week till Christmas left they were swamped at all times and he could keep busy enough to take his mind off the beautiful girl he worked with, the one who made him so happy without even knowing she did.

How had he been so blind?

“Oh, yes, ma’am, its right over here,” Aqua said from around the corner.

Terra leaned around the end of the bookshelf he was doing a quick stock of to see her walking with another woman to one of the bookshelves that lined the walls.

“It’s a beautiful book,” Aqua continued. “Full of beautiful pictures and descriptions, great for any fan.” She reached up to the top shelf to grab some sort of movie art book but the stock was low and she was a little too short to reach it on her own. “Popular as well,” she chuckled as she tried to strain a little harder to grab it with no luck.

Terra left the books he had in his hands on the shelf, moving over to where Aqua was still struggling. He reached over her head to grab the book with no effort. “Here you go,” he said, passing it to Aqua.

She had turned around to look at him, a little too close, he could feel the warmth of her body against his. There was this look in her eyes, one he couldn’t quite read but it melted into that customer service smile. “Thank you,” she said, turning again to hand the book to the customer. “We have to keep some tall employees here just for that.”

The woman smiled her thanks and went to leave, vanishing in the rest of the crowd of customers. Terra knew he should get back to his own work, but he was frozen when Aqua exhaled, leaning back against the bookshelf as she looked back up at him. “I am exhausted.”

“I know the feeling,” he said, reaching a hand up behind the back of his head.

“You need a break?” she asked a sort of concern wrinkling her forehead. “I can hold the fort down.”

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine but feel free to take it if you need it. I can handle it just fine.”

While before it may’ve ended up in more bickering, now she merely laughed. “I appreciate it, Terra, but I’ll be okay too. I guess we’re better as a team out here anyways.”

He blinked at her, not quite getting what she meant, but she glanced upwards at the top shelf. “Ah, yeah, need those tall arms don’t you?”

“I used to think I was tall for a girl, and then I met you.”

“Ah, what can I say? Born to be a sports person.”

“Were you?”

“No,” he laughed. “I never cared much for playing or watching them.”

She looked at him with that unreadable look again. It wasn’t bad he didn’t think, he just wasn’t sure what was going through her head. “Well, I suppose you do like books better.”

“That I do, obviously.” He found his voice lacking the sarcasm he used to talk to her with, mainly because he really did enjoy talking to her. He thought maybe she felt the same because she was much less abrasive with him ever since he brought her the soup. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea.

She laughed lightly, opening her mouth to say something else but a voice crackled in both their ears, judging by the way Aqua cringed at the same time he did.

“Guys,” Sora whined a little too loudly over the headset. “This customer is angry over a sale. Can one of you come help me?”

Terra reached up to turn his mic on to say he got it but he felt Aqua’s soft touch on his arm.

“I got it, Sora,” she said as she pressed her mic on. “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, thank Jesus. I think they want to murder me.”

“I would’ve gone,” Terra said. “I know you said you were tired.”

“It’s fine,” she said with the smile he had gotten used to the past few days. “I know you’re not a big confrontation person and I love putting people in their place, especially when they mess with my kids.” She winked at him before going to head to the register.

Terra watched her go and almost pitied the person who yelled at Sora. Almost. Terra moved back to where he was stocking, hoping it would keep distracting him till the store closed and he could get some peace and quiet to clean the store in.

“What happened with you?”

He looked up to see Riku standing at the next shelving unit over. He was straightening but he was also eyeing Terra a little curiously. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You and Aqua,” Riku said, gesturing vaguely in the direction Aqua was last in.

Terra arched an eyebrow. “Are you spying on me, kiddo?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Riku said, leaning over to fix the next shelf down. “More like it’s so obvious everyone’s been talking about it.”

Terra froze. “Talking about what?”

“That you guys actually get along now. Some have, ah, interesting theories.”

“People like Lea and Kairi, I’ll guess?”

Riku snorted and that was enough of an answer. “It’s just you guys used to fight-flirt a lot, like we all couldn’t tell if you hated each other or liked each other but now you guys…I don’t know, seem happy?”

Terra decided he’d ignore the fact the employees apparently talked about his and Aqua’s relationship dynamics (and referred to it as flirting none the less). “Huh, I mean nothing really changed.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Something changed somewhere.” Riku crouched down but looked up towards Terra. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good thing, I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you smile so much especially around this time of the year when you’re stuck at work. Whatever it is, I’m glad to see you happy.”

Terra knew something changed in himself, and maybe because of his attitude change, it made Aqua feel better about him but he didn’t think it was that apparent to everyone else. “Well, thanks I guess but nothing’s really changed. I guess we just learned how to work with each other.”

Riku made some sort of noise of acknowledgement but otherwise went back to straightening the books. Terra tried to do the same but he couldn’t focus on what went where. He couldn’t see or hear Aqua but he was so aware of her presence. There was no going back for him now, not when he knew it was her. He knew why she made him happy but the disappointment she’d feel knowing he was the person she was waiting to hear back from was enough to make him look back to his job.

He knew he had to tell her, lying to her only made him feel worse every day. It would both ruin the relationship they had, and the one that was only just growing but he had to make it right to her. She deserved that and so much more.

--

Dear Bytheseaside,

I’m not sure I have words to apologize to you. I could sit here and make excuses all day long but the truth is I have none. I’m the one who chickened out and in the end couldn’t face you. There was nothing you did wrong; I can assure you of that. I’m not quite as outgoing as I may come across and the thought of facing you made me turn away. Then in turn, the thought of facing you in shame of what I’ve done got me delaying in telling you what happened.

I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t trust me to meet again but I still would like to make it up to you. The large Christmas tree in the center of West Town Mall, it’s beautiful you know? I know how much you love Christmas (and hate the cold so this is inside). If you have time maybe the day before Christmas Eve,  I’ll wait for you there. I know you typically work nights so after closing.  I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to show up, but this time I promise I’ll be there. I can’t promise I’ll wear bells in my hair, but I think you’ll know me when you see me.

--

Aqua couldn’t get the nervous buzz out of the pit of her stomach, which meant it was probably bad to be walking back into the store with more coffee for herself, but she couldn’t help it. She balanced the tray and a couple bags of food past some customers who were digging through the bargain bin, more running to grab last minute presents all around her. Thankfully she made it to the backroom without anyone running into her and spilling either coffee cup.

Terra was already sitting at the table, fiddling with his phone. She smiled as the door swung behind her; at least the nice thing about working the day before Christmas Eve was the boss was here all day and she could take her break at the same time as him tonight.

“Ta-da,” she said, placing the tray down on the table. “Surprise caffeine.”

“Bless you,” he said, leaving his phone on the table. “But you seriously didn’t have to get me anything, Aqua.”

“It was nothing.” She waved him off before reaching for one so she could read the markings. “I figured you were as dead on your feet as I was.”

“You’re right there.”

“Just today and tomorrow,” she said, handing him the one marked with nothing but coffee in it. “Then a day off.”

“Yeah, until we have to come back for all the after-Christmas sales.” He took the coffee from her, but his fingers were warmer than she expected, making her jump just a little when they brushed against her hand.

“Optimism, Terra, c’mon now.” Aqua sat down in the chair across from him, thankful to not be on her feet even for a little bit. She brought the warm coffee up to her lips, hoping it would help her lingering exhaustion.

He snorted but he didn’t say anything else as he sipped carefully at his own drink.

“Oh, here, this too.” Aqua grabbed one of the food bags to peek into it before sliding it over to him.

He choked slightly, probably out of surprise. “You’re too much. You know you don’t have to make sure I eat, right?”

She hummed, grabbing her own bag before leaning back again. “I don’t know, you look like someone who would forget to eat.”

It was the strangest thing. Where she once didn’t even like having to share the same space as him, she found herself standing at the café in the mall wondering what Terra would like off the menu. She admittedly didn’t know and had to guess completely, but so far he was drinking the black coffee with no complaints as he peeked into the bag curiously.

“It was the least sweet thing I could find,” she explained, pulling out her own pastry which she made sure was the polar opposite.

It was like the thought surprised him as he looked back up to her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she chuckled, pulling off a piece of her pastry to pop in her mouth. “It’s the holidays, there’s been cookies and pies and cakes galore back here and you’ve never touched any of them. I figured you didn’t really like sweets too much.”

“Ah, well, you’re right,” he said, placing the pastry on top of the bag, a sort of smile on his lips. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course, we have to survive all this madness together.”

He hummed in response, leaning back in his chair as he carefully ate the pastry she brought him.

Aqua wasn’t quite sure how it happened. She didn’t know how she went from trying to ignore him as best she could at work to actually looking to see if his name was on the schedule with her. Almost just as surprising was the disappointment she felt when they were scheduled separate. Was he always this sweet and kind and she just never saw it? Did she ever give him the chance to understand he just operated on a different level than she did?

She didn’t know. All she knew was she regretted the way she treated him before. Ever since he brought her food when she was sick, she couldn’t get him out of her head. Even going so far as to having the desire to text him for no reason other than she wished she could see him more than just at work when they were so busy and never really got a chance to say much. She did stop trying to always take control of things, knowing that no matter what he was doing he’d do it to the best of his abilities, even if it was a much quieter way than she’d do it. She actually found his presence with her more comforting than anything, knowing he’d be there if she needed it. Aqua didn’t know why, because she didn’t deserve it in the least but it was a nice thing.

Also a very conflicting thing as she was supposed to meet the person she had been talking to for months again tonight.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

Aqua blinked as she remembered she was still sitting at the table staring down at her food. His was already gone, just crumbs remaining as he went back to his drink. “Ah, nothing important,” she said, reaching to pick at her pastry.

Terra tipped his cup to his lips, gesturing with his hand for her to continue. Did she mention how easy it was to talk to him, too? For all the bickering they used to do, she found conversation with him so easily. He was quiet but always attentive, like nothing she said ever bored him. Why did they used to fight so much? Aqua couldn’t even begin to remember.

“I’m well, I’m supposed to meet that guy again tonight.” The nerves tightened in her stomach just at the thought, making her otherwise delicious food seem unappealing.

Terra arched his eyebrows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” she groaned, her head falling backwards some.

“Did he at least apologize to you?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t really tell me what happened other than it was on him, and that he wanted to try for a second chance.”

“Do you think he deserves it?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Aqua said, maybe a little too quickly judging by the way her heart leapt up into her throat with Terra’s eyes on her. “I just…I don’t know.”

Terra leaned forward, placing his cup on the table. “In the end it’s up to you. You seemed really upset when he stood you up last time. You have every right not to want to put yourself through that again.”

She hesitated. “Do you think I should go?”

“It’s not my choice to make,” he laughed lightly. “It’s up to you and how you feel. If you still feel like you want to meet this person then go, if you don’t feel like you can trust them after what happened then don’t. Don’t ever feel forced to do something just because you think it’s what other people want.”  

Did she still want to? She knew there was a part of her that did, who wanted to meet the person she had so many wonderful conversations with, who made her feel light and warm, happy even when she otherwise might not’ve felt those things. Yet, there was another part of her who was aware there was a person sitting in this room who also had the ability to make her feel that way, who took care of her when he absolutely didn’t have to, who kept the kids at the store out of trouble because he knew they meant well, who did anything without a complaint.

“You’re right,” she said, bringing her coffee back up to her lips. Their break would be over in any second, and she’d have to go back to work and try to not be distracted…by a lot of things.

Terra seemed accepting enough with her answer as he leaned back in his chair. Granted that didn’t last too long as the door swung open.

Xion had her head popped in. “Boss said break’s up, sorry, guys.”

“It’s fine, be right there,” Aqua said, moving to shove the rest of her pastry in her mouth (that absolutely got a chuckle from Terra). She grabbed her coffee to take with her as she stood; she was hiding it behind the counter, they could pry it from her cold, dead hands.

“Hey, Aqua?”

She paused, turning back to Terra who was standing but not really making any other move to leave. “Yeah, what’s up?”

He looked a little unsure, and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her not to go (or hoped? She wasn’t quite sure). “I’m sorry, about how I’ve treated you in the past. It was, ah, really wrong of me.”

Despite the fact she was about to head back to the floor on one of the busiest nights of the year, she couldn’t hold back her smile at his sweet sentiment. “You don’t have to apologize, Terra. I wasn’t always very kind either, so I’m sorry about that.” She paused for a moment, well aware Xion was probably about to stick her head back in to get them moving. “I’m glad it’s not like that anymore though.”

“Me too.”

Aqua barely had time to register the sort of sweet smile on his lips as she pulled open the door, her head instantly filled with Christmas music and the noise that came with a packed store. She did think about how well his smile fit his face, how sincere he was in a simple apology as she bustled around trying to assist where she could and keep the customers happy. It really didn’t help her choice she had to make, it only made it even harder.

In the end, once the store was cleaned and closed up, she bid farewell to her coworkers and walked down the nearby stairs to the first floor of the mall. She could’ve gone to her car and left, but at the same time she couldn’t abide having him feel the same way she did just the week before. Aqua wasn’t sure what she’d say or what she’d do, if she even felt the same way she did before but in the very least he was her friend and he deserved to be treated with respect.

The tree was so big it reached the second floor of the mall, all filled with garland, ornaments, lights, and bows. It really was beautiful. Usually it was filled with lines of kids coming to see Santa but now it was empty, the lights twinkling and soft music playing over the radio. No one else was there, and she tried not to feel the familiar sink of disappointment.

Aqua moved to walk around the tree, to see if anyone else was waiting around the other side. No one, not even lingering mall shoppers, everyone was gone already. She sighed, reaching to her pocket for her phone to see how long she should wait before leaving this endeavor too. She stopped short when she heard footsteps in her direction.

Her heart was in her throat when she looked up but it really didn’t clear anything up. “Terra?” she asked, as he continued to walk up to her. “Did you forget something?”

He had his hands in his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched slightly. He had keys so she wasn’t sure why he’d need her if he forgot something in the store but still he didn’t stop till he was standing in front of her. The look on his face was a little unreadable, but he looked more nervous than anything.

It was that moment Aqua realized while she told Terra she was supposed to meet her friend tonight, she never actually said where.

“I know I said you’d know me when you saw me,” he said, reaching a hand up to the back of his neck. “But I realized you never did before, so I suppose I probably should’ve brought bells or something.”

Aqua felt her purse fall off her shoulder but she made no move to get it, she could only bring her fingers up to her mouth as she stared at him. It made sense; it made way too much sense for her to have never seen it before. Everything she knew about her friend she knew in Terra too, right down to how gentle and caring she always thought him to be.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that night either. I just…didn’t want you to feel disappointed that in the end it was me.”

“Terra,” she choked. The emotions swirling through her made tears pricked her eyes in a wave of relief that she didn’t even know she was looking for till he was standing there; that the person she looked forward to seeing at work was the same person she waited for each message from. “I couldn’t…I wanted it to be you.”

He didn’t seem to be expecting that, nor did she expect to put her hands on his face, bringing herself up to press her lips to his. Terra recovered from his surprise enough to reach a hand to her face, the other to her back, pulling her in.

She heard the Christmas music playing lightly, the smell of pine and cinnamon, the lights behind her eyes but mostly she felt the familiar warmth he brought her, his gentle hands against her as he kissed her back. For the first time since she met him, both at work and through their messages, everything just felt simply right.

#terraqua #kingdom hearts #terra #aqua #kingdom hearts fanfic #my fics:kh #tobewithyou #modernaukh #ITS A CHRISTMAS FIC I PROMISE LOL

[drashleighreid]

ugh i know i’ve made this post before but i’m honestly just in awe of how much and how quickly my studies/perception of my own abilities turned around last semester. like i’ve struggled so much with impostor syndrome and not feeling like i’m good enough or feeling less than. i’ve struggled a lot with my sense of self, especially through having adhd, i was the typical case of doing really well in high school and having rly inflated ambition etc and then going to university and crashing and burning (multiple times) i tried studying like 3 or 4 different things and ending up hating it/dropping out after a semester until i finally started studying film when i was 23. it kind of felt like a last hope for me like i even remember when i did my big 6 month backpacking trip before i moved to melb i was in toronto hanging out with my friend who was trying to convince me to get a work visa and move there and work with him and i told him i was thinking id go back to aus and start studying again but that id consider it and i remember he made like a flippant remark about me trying study again like it wasnt intended to be rude but just that he knew that id hated uni every time id gone lkjlkjsf and even when i started the course i knew that like it was kinda my last hope of getting a degree which had always been a big goal of mine, i felt shit about myself a lot of my best friends from high school had already graduated at this point and i just felt hopeless - and studying something creative after feeling for so long like it wouldnt yield a stable future was a bit of a ‘fuck you i’m done’ kinda move on my part too lol but even through the first year and a half (and even a smidge beyond that) i was battling back and forth whether to drop out and i cried about it to my therapist numerous times because i didnt feel good enough and that it was hopeless etc and that everyone else was better than me, more focused than me. i couldnt even sit through films without being on my phone bc my adhd wouldnt let me so how the f was i gonna work in the industry lmao ! it was so challenging bc i legit didnt know what id do if i dropped out !!! but i just kinda kept going no matter how miserable i was and how much i was sobbing in week 13 writing my essay or how much i felt like everyone in the course were making friends with each other but i had no one or how scared i was to share my ideas with people !!!! i literally felt so bad in every way !!! 

but like through small building affirmations things just keep getting better !!! last semester i pitched a concept for a 16mm short film and it was one of the 4 ideas chosen out of like 25 to be made and i had the most rewarding experience directing the project and made amazing connections with people and created something actually amazing ??? the teachers had almost no negative feedback for it and i got the best grade i’ve ever received lol and i made some rly good friends and got a lot of positive reinforcement from the actors and people saying that i struck a rly good balance with directing and that i was amazing to work with !!! but even after that experience going into 3rd year and beginning major projects i had reservations and felt really nervous because i didnt feel prepared and i was worried that people wouldnt like my idea or after only having written/directed for all of my projects so far i felt like i had to Perform again. the the impostor syndrome - though a lot more muted than before bc i have positive experiences to lean back on!! - was kinda there again like this idea that everything i’ve accomplished so far has been a fluke and that people are gonna realise im dumb etc. etc. lmao but like ! ive pitched an idea and people i dont even know from the course have reached out saying they love it and want to work on it with me and i have basically a full crew ?? just need someone on sound?? and we havent even had the class where we have discussions about it and talk more in depth, thats solely based on a less than 2 minute video pitch and ive had so much interest !!! and it just feels so nice !! like i know this isnt the end, we still have to get greenlit by the panel before it will move ahead to production but its just so validating to have people behind you who show interest and passion toward ur ideas !! 

and ive been chatting to other people about ideas and their film concepts/chatting about helping out with other roles on other films for ppl bc u can do that and id love more hands on experience on sets so im trying to get into sound design and production design bc like no ones gonna hire a film student grad as a director kljlkjsf you gotta be a worm ! 

but like basically this is a really long winded way of saying that i cant believe people actually really value my ideas and my vision and feedback. i got this message from one of the most intelligent people i’ve ever met and like... just two bros being in awe of each other... cleansing 

honestly like !! if you read this far wig go off !! i havent done one of these long winded feelings dumps in a long time but its like good and positive feelings moving forward, even in social iso i feel so connected and wonderful. peace n blessings love u all. chase ur dreams and dont give up !! @ past me and at all of u out there !!  its gonna be ok keep going u got this bitch !!! 

#p #read more #long post

[akozuheiwa]

More College Krel (and Seamus!)

Hey! Remember my college Krel headcanons? Well, me and @lizzylucky started talking about Krel and Seamus in college and we decided we have to share so… under the cut!

First of all, obviously, at some point Krel and Seamus compete with each other to see who can stay awake the longest. Seamus is sure he’ll win because he’s seen Krel pass out in, like, the bushes or a bookshelf after an all-nighter or two. Krel is sure he’ll win because he’s seen Seamus sleep in class, like, all the time. Krel does win, but he also drinks enough energy drinks and, like, doesn’t sleep long enough that he gets hospitalised. Steve threatens to tell Aja and Seamus’s mom if they do it again, which is by far enough to get them to not do it again.

They do a lot of proving the professors wrong. It’s usually Krel’s idea and usually involves alcohol and/or energy drinks and enough spite to kill a man point blank.

No one’s sure if they sleep. Sometimes, you’ll see Krel and/or Seamus walking by outside the window then passing back by in like thirty minutes with a bunch of random stuff they may or may not have gotten from one of the labs. It’ll be 3 in the morning and you’ll be walking to get pizza or something and you’ll pass Krel and Seamus with three armfuls of something like plastic tubing, or, on one memorable occasion, probably a hundred mechanical pencils. You probably exchange a mutual nod of “none of us should be up at this hour” and continue on your way. Yes, you noticed Krel had four arms. No, you’re not going to ask.

Krel’s sister comes to visit a few times – football star Steve Palchuk’s girlfriend – and you’re pretty sure she had a sword or something. And her dog might be purple.

Krel begrudgingly goes to Steve’s football games, because they’re friends, and Seamus inevitably follows. They end up tinkering with a device that may or may not be a bomb and disappearing for the rest of the weekend.

One time, first semester, there’s a mysterious BOOM! from their dorm room, and then no one sees them for a week. Rumours go around that they finally went and blew themselves up and the university’s covering it up, but then they show up to Intro to Physics with proof that alternate universes do exist. This is not uncommon. Rumour has it they did an entire semester’s worth of homework in a week so they’d have more free time. No one doubts it. They almost never miss class, but they do tend to be late and bring a bunch of nonsensical items with them so they can, as usual, build something borderline or genuinely impossible to prove a professor wrong.

They have most of their classes together and no one understands how they have such good enrolment times. Some say they hacked the system. Others say they bribed all the physics professors with cool tech. No one knows.

Krel is in student theatre, of course, and he’s in every play be it acting or working lights and sound. No one knows how he manages it since he’s always building something or being dragged somewhere by Seamus and/or Steve. Seamus shows up to all of Krel’s plays, and sometimes helps with tech. The theatre department loves them because their tech needed and update and they went all out. Krel could probably have set up a completely automated system for all things tech, but he thought it was important to get others involved so he didn’t.

At one point they do a sci-fi play, and Krel hooks them up with Akiridion tech on the condition they don’t ask about it and don’t tell anyone who gave it to them. Obviously, free sci-fi tech is awesome so they go for it. Everyone involved in student theatre is convinced he’s an alien until someone goes, “What if Seamus is the alien and Krel’s just covering for him?” at which point it becomes a betting pool and debate at cast/crew parties. Krel and Seamus think it’s hilarious and do their best to prove both theories right at the same time. People who aren’t in theatre but have friends who are tend to be wary of the Tarron-Johnson duo because of the rumour mill about the alien debates and also hearing about how well they acted out this death scene, it’s like they’d experienced it in real life.

If you look at their notebooks in class, they’re writing in Akiridion and they’re almost never writing notes. Any other person just thinks they made up a language. Eventually, people overhear them talking about Akiridion-5, which vaguely reminds someone about a website some Arcadian kid made about “Akiridion Science Fiction” or something. Theatre kids joke Akiridion must be where Krel and/or Seamus is from. Other people think it’s some weird Arcadia Oaks club.

Anyone dedicated enough - including lots of theatre kids and one junior physics major who wants to make aliens her honours thesis - interview (read: interrogate) everyone they can find from Arcadia Oaks. Steve Palchuk refuses to talk, but given how close he seems to both of them this is unsurprising. Jim Lake - another possible cryptid, some say they'd seen him turn tall and blue so there's rumours he's the same type of alien as Krel - also doesn't say much, nor does his girlfriend, who's one of the few people in theatre who isn't super invested in this whole thing (she knows, she must know, that's why). One person tells them Seamus and Krel used to hate each other. No one believes that person.

After a couple years, incoming freshman are greeted with confusion in every club and class and group they join. There's constantly intense talk about these two kids who may or may not have been aliens that travelled through different dimensions, visited both the past and the future, supposedly went to another planet every other week, wrote in a made-up language, used nonsense words, and were somehow involved in the theatre department's rise to popularity as a completely advanced experience the year before. Krel and Seamus don't do anything about it because half the school thinks it's a hoax and none of the students who don't are being taken seriously anywhere.

After they graduate, they still volunteer with the school a bunch so eventually it goes from "students might be aliens" to "those grad TAs might be aliens" to eventually "Professor Johnson is probably an alien and so is his best friend (husband? no one knows? unclear?) who's here more often than not.”

(No one ever puts together that Seamus Johnson might be a wizard, which is probably for the best.)

(Yes, there will be another post about Professors Johnson and Tarron.)

#3below #tales of arcadia #toawizards #krel tarron #seamus johnson #college krel #college seamus #kreamus #listen #it's a ton but it's so much fun #and just wait till you hear about Professors Johnson and Tarron #because I love them #Lizzy and I have been talking for hours about this help #headcanons

[spidergwenstefani]

Finals Week

This is a really self-indulgent semi sequel to this ficlet I wrote a little while ago about theatre major Bucky and frat bro Clint. Apparently this is gonna be the AU i use for pointless fluffy comfort now bc I’m stressed with finals essays and these boys are helping.

I definitely shifted some background characters around since the last fic sorry steve but i don’t super care so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bucky spins his desk chair around in a lazy circle, watching the moon shining through his apartment window blur into a bright stripe with the rest of his surroundings. Someone on the floor above him has tuned their Spotify to some kind of low-fi study playlist, and Bucky feels genuinely relaxed for the first time in… months, actually.

This last week has been rough. Nearly all of his finals ended up scheduled on the same Friday and Natasha had to actually hold him back from leaping out the library window on Thursday night. It worked out alright. The Lighting Design 201 presentation had gone off shockingly well, the History of Stage Design final was way easier than expected, and his group project for Gender in Shakespeare really pulled through in the end. He half-assed the conclusion for his Dramaturgy essay, but there was only so much he could say about August Wilson without the professor realizing he was just spitting his class notes back at him. So now he’s done. A whole five days before the semester ends, too. It feels like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off Bucky’s shoulders. He hums along to the slow jam echoing down from his upstairs neighbor, scooping up his phone to check his messages.

Nat (3 hours ago) Congrats on being done with finals

Nat (3 hours ago) If you didn’t turn that gd Fences essay in on time I will climb in through your window and strangle you in your sleep

Steve (2 hours ago) Hey! Me and some buddies were planning on going out for pizza around 7 tomorrow. Do you wanna come with? You can bring Clint so you don’t have to listen to grad students all night.

Steve (2 hours ago) Please say yes. I don’t want to listen to grad students all night.

Nat (42 minutes ago) Have you heard from Clint? He hasn’t answered my texts in hours. Not sure if I should be concerned

Nat (40 minutes ago) Send him a dick pic and see if that gets a response

Clint (3 minutes ago) im fckin dropping uot

Bucky ignores Steve and Natasha for now, typing out a quick response to Clint.

Bucky Well I’m done with finals

Bucky Can I convince you to stay in college with some fantastic Fuck Dramaturgy victory sex?

Clint i dont kno what htat is

Bucky I’ve explained Dramaturgy to you like five times

Clint i cant remembr

Clint what day is it

Clint bucky im dyin :’(

Bucky rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys off his desk and pulling on his sneakers. He would have preferred to avoid the Greek side of campus today if at all possible, but he has an idiot boyfriend to console.

Bucky omw

>>==========>

Beta Theta Pi is, as far as frat houses go, not the absolute worst. It had still been kind of a shock when Bucky realized Clint actually lives up to his frat bro vibes. Not only lives up to them but embraces them with the same enthusiasm Clint has for any other thing he cares about. Bucky could probably do PR for the Beta charity drives by now after how much Clint has gushed about them. Lord knows he’d do a better job than fucking Pietro.

Bruce answers the door on Bucky’s third knock, looking surprised to see him and vaguely stoned.

“Bucky?” he says after he gets a few blinks out of his system. Bucky wonders if it’s such a good idea to be smoking in his letterman jacket. Coach Fury’s been known to have a nose like a bloodhound. “Clint didn’t say you were coming over.”

“Has he said anything at all in the last twelve hours?” Bucky asks, shouldering past Bruce because he knows he won’t move on his own. Bruce is actually his favorite of Clint’s brothers. He’s chiller than any offensive lineman has a right to be. He does yoga, for fuck's sake. It’s probably the copious amounts of weed that mellow him out in the end, though.

“I dunno,” Bruce says, still blinking his way back to the present. He gives Bucky a slow smile as he shuts the door behind them. “Do you want tea? I made tea.”

“Maybe later,” Bucky says, because he’s just spotted Rumlow studying at the dining table and that’s the one Beta guy he genuinely doesn’t want to see today. He heads for the stairs.

“Wanna play Smash Bros?” Bruce asks as Bucky bolts for the second floor.

“Maybe later,” he shouts over his shoulder.

Clint’s room is at the far end of the hallway, and Bucky frowns at the closed door. Clint’s the kind of endearingly codependent guy that keeps his door open unless absolutely necessary, never wanting to miss out on anything that might be blocked by a thin layer of wood.

He knocks more as a warning than anything, letting himself in and shutting the door softly behind him. All the lights are off and nothing but moonlight illuminates Clint spread dramatically across the floor, staring up at his ceiling fan like he’s hoping it’ll fall on him.

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky mutters, mostly because he’s not sure Clint even heard him come in.

“I’m gonna die,” Clint answers from the floor. “Statistics is actually gonna kill me.”

“You can’t die,” Bucky says, leaning back against the door. “My mom will be crushed if I don’t bring you home for spring break.” The moonlight is making the angles of Clint’s face look especially soft, and Bucky takes a moment to watch him pout before sinking down onto the floor.

“No, it’s too late. I’m dying,” Clint says, shifting to make room on the rug as Bucky crawls over to him. He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before turning his glazed look back up at the ceiling fan. “You’ll come to my funeral, right?”

“Obviously,” Bucky snorts, sliding his hands under Clint’s t-shirt. He knows his fingers are ice cold, but Clint doesn’t even flinch.

“Wear black, okay? Something sexy, so my enemies get jealous of the hot piece of ass I bagged before kicking the bucket.”

“Should I cry?” Clint hasn’t seen Bucky act yet, but he’s totally going to audition for The Laramie Project next semester and blow his fucking mind.

“As much as possible. Maybe mention how much you’ll miss my massive dick.”

“I will,” Bucky says emphatically. He looks up at the ceiling fan and takes a deep breath, doing his best to bring tears to his eyes. “I’ll never love another dick as much as I loved his.” Bucky’s voice comes out impressively choked up. “I’m cursed to a life of longing. The only man who can satisfy me is lost forever.” Bucky blinks a single tear down his cheek, and Clint’s staring at him when he finally turns back.

“Holy shit,” Clint says, moving to wipe at Bucky’s cheeks like he’s actually worried about him. “Do exactly that, please. When did you learn how to cry on command?”

“When my third sister was born,” Bucky answers smugly. “I didn’t appreciate how much more attention tutus and pigtails got, so I had to find my own edge.”

“Becca’s sent me a few pictures that say you still cashed in on tutus and pigtails.” Clint rolls onto his side so he can face Bucky better, pulling him closer with a hand around his waist.

“I rocked those butterfly clips better than she could ever dream,” Bucky says, and Clint buries his laugh in Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky runs a hand up and down Clint’s back. “What day is your Stats final?” That earns him a despondent groan.

“Monday. I’m so gonna fail.” Clint’s voice is muffled by Bucky’s sweatshirt. “Why the fuck did I decide on a Business major?”

“Because you’re smart,” Bucky insists. Clint shakes his head weakly against his shoulder and Bucky smacks him lightly on the arm. “You are. You’re smart and practical, and once you have your diploma you and Nat can move to New York and open your gym.”

Clint mumbles something into his sweatshirt that Bucky doesn’t quite catch.

“What?” he asks, and he tugs the back of Clint’s shirt just enough to get him to scoot backward and speak clearly.

“I said you’ll be there too,” Clint repeats, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s side and making an effort to keep his eyes anywhere but on Bucky’s. “Designing costumes on Broadway. Having a meltdown every other day.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, and Clint looks up long enough to give him a hesitant smile. “And on tech week I’ll gripe to you all night long and make you rub my feet.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Clint says, and his voice is too soft to be joking. Bucky leans forward to kiss him. Clint brings his hand up to Bucky’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek while they lose themselves for a moment or two.

“It’ll be awesome,” Bucky says once he’s pulled away. “And all you have to do is pass one dumb Stats final. It’s all easy street after that.”

“No it’s not,” Clint says, but his face doesn’t seem quite as pinched with worry. Bucky shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe not, but this is all you have to think about right now. And even if you don’t pass, which you will, Momma Barnes will be waiting at the train station, ready to fill that void of disappointment with cookies and brisket. They offer Stats over the summer. You can even get Bruce to help you study.”

Clint smiles a little easier and presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Bruce offered to help me study earlier this week, actually.” Bucky raises his eyebrows at him.

“And you’re not taking him up on it? Bruce is pretty much Einstein. You know that, right? What are you doing in here when you could be getting schooled on Stats in the library?”

“Well, you’re here,” Clint says and Bucky just knows his smile goes all dopey at that. “And I think even Einstein would struggle with Stats after smoking that much weed.”

“You’ll study with him tomorrow though, right?” Bucky’s not going to let Clint throw him off that easy. Clint rolls his eyes, but he nods. “Steve invited us to get pizza tomorrow. I’ll pay, as a reward for studying.”

“Steve invited us, or Steve invited you?” Clint asks, scrunching up his nose. Bucky snorts, shoving at Clint half-heartedly.

“Steve invited us. To go out with him and his friends. I dunno why you hate him so much. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“I don’t hate him,” Clint says defensively, but he still shifts forward to wrap his arms possessively around Bucky. “I just want to make sure he knows that the position of Bucky’s Buff Blond Boyfriend is already happily filled. Also, fuck him. I’m really cool.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky says. He’s kind of stuck in Clint’s steel trap of a hug. “It’s not like that. First of all, I don’t date grad students, and second of all we totally have more of a big brother-little brother sort of thing going on. I think he’s more into Tony, anyway.”

“Aw, gross,” Clint laughs, letting Bucky out of his death grip. “They deserve each other.”

“People probably say the same thing about us,” Bucky says. Clint grins at him, opening his mouth to share some kind of smart-ass response. A knock on the door cuts him off and makes them both jump.

“Do you guys have pants on?” Bruce’s voice comes through the door way louder than necessary. “If you don’t, sorry. Keep doing your thing or whatever. We’re starting a new Smash tournament, though, if you wanna join.”

“No, Bruce. C’mon man,” Bucky hears Sam say, and there’s the sound of scuffling feet like Sam’s trying to yank Bruce back from the door. “They’re probably having their own Smash tournament in there.”

“Bucky would have invited me,” Bruce insists, and Clint sits up with a laugh.

“We have pants on, Bruce,” he calls, and the door opens a moment later.

“Are you guys just sitting in the dark?” Bruce frowns down at Bucky, who’s still sprawled across the rug.

“Yeah,” Clint says, and then because he catches Bucky’s meaningful look, “Are you busy tomorrow? Think you could help me with Stats?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says, smiling easily. Bucky thinks Clint looks relieved, like he actually thought Bruce might say no. “We can go to the library.”

“Alright, Bruce.” Bucky stands up, offering a hand and hauling Clint to his feet too. “Let’s smash. I call the pink controller.”

#my fics #winterhawk #rated: g #college au #wait have I been remembering to rate my fics lately #i didn't even realize i was making a hulk smash pun until the very end #i was just thinking about all the frat houses ive been to where they do nothing but play super smash bros #also clint is definitely the friend that switches off autocorrect despite needing it the most #im sorry if his shitty texting hurts anyone's brain

[parniarazi]

2 0 1 9

A few days into the fresh energy of the new year, I’m still processing a lot from 2019 because it was a huge year for me. I think it’s a big missed opportunity for self-growth if you don’t take some time to reflect on your year, what it taught you, how it shaped you, and what your goals are moving into a new year. Resolutions can be cheesy and cheap, but serious self-reflection and actions towards your goals are what will move you forward.

In 2019, I got to experience a lot of things I love. I photographed one of my favorite artists, I went to 6 music festivals (including my first SXSW and EDCLV), I traveled to Vegas, Italy, Germany, France, Colorado, and Mexico (not to mention a few weekends away in the lovely Austin, Texas). I connected with many different people this year, a few of whom have stuck around to be good friends. I graduated college surrounded by the support of my amazing family, started my first semester of grad school and my first real job, and I fell even more in love with Pavel after we made the decision to move in together.

Whew. Talk about self-growth. Years like this that are filled with change are definitely among the most difficult ones I remember, but getting older is cool sometimes because I recall other similar times when I felt challenged, pushed, and even frustrated, but then ended up getting through it and life being way better on the other side. For example, when I first moved to Houston in 2016. Another similarly big transition year, 2019 didn’t come without its struggles, but those have been incredible learning moments and just as important as my highs. 

Overall though, growing up is hard. I think this is something I say often, but I really feel that in my soul. Sometimes I feel like I have a grip on adulthood, I’m now financing larger trips and travel plans for Pavel and I, I’m seeing more of the world, I’m less afraid of doing adult things alone and less afraid of the unknown general. At the same time though, so much of my identity is rooted in my youth. Young, wild, and free, you know? Nothing is better. So in many ways, feeling this slip away from me year by year as I get older and have to handle more and more of my own responsibilities really sucks. Not being able to be as carefree or have as much free time can be a challenge that comes with adulthood, but fortunately having the level of self-awareness I’ve developed, I’m also realizing that I don’t actually have to buy into that narrative anymore. Can I be a fully responsible, independent adult and still create time for myself and give myself breaks to play, dance, and rest? Absolutely. Can I be a smart, professional, respectable person while still being funny and quirky and myself? Hell yeah. Getting settled into adulthood by moving out and going through all these changes I did this year has helped me realize that my life is really my own to shape and create however I want. I’ve learned that no matter what advice others give me or see fit for me, the decisions are mine to make at the end of the day and I’m the one who has to live my life every day. As the indecisive libra I am, this was hard at first but I can literally feel myself growing into my power and that feels fucking amazing. 

Major shifts also happened in my academic/professional life that were extremely difficult to go through, but I have a feeling were a huge plunge in the right direction for me. For most of undergrad (which was only 3 years), I was committed to staying in academia to get my Ph.D. in political science and then working as a professor. This was mainly for 3 reasons — I was always good at school so I thought putting off finding a job to stay in school longer would be an easy solution, I wanted to stay in an area I excelled in and felt comfortable in, and I didn’t explore my other interests/options enough at the time. I also couldn’t see myself dressing in business clothes, working in an office or corporate-type job. Essentially, I settled for something I thought would be more comfortable, but it turned out my undergrad program had not challenged me or prepared me for this grad program at all. Instead of being comfortable, I was thrown to the wolves in classes and material I was completely unprepared for and not even interested in. Not to mention, I felt incredibly alone and isolated from my classmates because many of them were older, already had a Master’s degree, and their lives revolved completely around the department because most of them worked as TAs while being full-time students. Meanwhile, I was working outside of academics, wanted to maintain my personal life and hobbies, and simply could not keep up with the pace and demands of the program. Nor did I want to, because seeing both the Ph.D. student and professor life up and close as a grad student made me realize that’s not the life I want as a professional. Academia can be incredibly stifling of new ideas, very bureaucratic, and has cookie-cutter ways to ‘making it’ in your given field. I learned that it is not an environment where my skills and personality would flourish, and I deserve better than that. I realized it’s unfair to both myself and the people who could benefit from my skills to force myself to fit into a box I simply don’t fit into.

That doesn’t go to say I have it all figured out now because I surely don’t. In fact, I’m on a whole new journey of finding jobs and fields I’m interested in, then gaining the right experiences and connections to get those jobs. Fortunately, I saved my grad school career by advocating for myself. Last semester, I immediately realized I hated the poli sci program, started exploring other related degree options, dropped my most difficult class after midterms, and then pushed and begged my advisors to actually do something to help me do something about my situation. After exploring and talking to people a bit, I realized my skillset would be a lot more applicable for something in Communications, like Public Relations or Mass Communications. I’ve always had a mind for communication, media, and relating to others as a deep empath. With broad applications in the world, I also realized this is a degree that I can make, not one that makes me. I can apply it and use it to do anything I'm interested in — from entertainment PR and marketing, to journalism and writing, to leadership and team management. My advisors were able to transfer me into the Communications MA for this spring, even though technically I would have had to apply and start in the fall. An important consideration about leaving political science was that they had given me a full scholarship covering my tuition, but since I’ve transferred I’ll now have to figure out paying for this semester myself and then finding scholarships or other ways to pay for the next 2 years (because I’ve made it this far and I refuse to have student loans). I’m so glad I didn’t let the money stop me because I would have lost that scholarship anyway since I dropped a class and didn’t get the most impressive grades, plus no scholarship is worth suffering in something you don’t want to be in and that won’t get you where you want to be.

Aside from the whirlwind that was this last semester, I am incredibly proud of myself for getting through all these crazy changes and still managing to be my joyful and best self (at least most of the time). I had my days where I cried hard after school and work, and some dark weeks this semester, but I made still doing things that make me happy a priority. Yoga, music, travel, going to festivals, going out with friends, seeing my family, and just slowing down for self-care. Finding familiarity and comfort in these things that bring me joy, combined with support from Pavel, are what got me through my hardest times this semester. Now I feel more settled into my new life being moved out, I feel more confident and powerful because I made my own decisions, and I feel excited about this new journey and the fulfillment and abundance this new path will bring me. 

Speaking of Pavel, it’s actually unreal how seamless and perfect moving in with him has been. Of course, we are immensely privileged because we aren’t dealing with rent, bills, or even cleaning much. But nonetheless, we’ve dealt with challenging times together but just going to bed together and waking up together makes life better. He’s my best friend in every way, living with him and sharing a space together is so magical and beautiful. I feel so safe, welcomed, and open to create the space and life I want here. I feel so cared for, valued, and loved with Pavel. We work so well together, it feels effortless and deliciously perfect. He grounds me, and this space has become home so quickly because of the way he makes me feel here. Moving out has taught me so much, helped me start overcoming a lot of fear and anxiety, and just allowed me to blossom more into myself. I will be forever grateful for Pavel helping make that happen with me at this point in our lives where it was so perfectly needed. I respect and love him endlessly for being the mature, intelligent, caring, patient partner that I need in my life. 

2019 was also a year of letting go of a lot of friendships, people, and energies that no longer serve me. I realized that I am a wonderful friend who is ready to give support, love, guidance, hugs, and my whole heart to someone who is willing to give all of that back and who is deserving of receiving that from me. Even though I’m in a healthy and happy long-term relationship, I still feel myself holding space in my heart for deep friendships and connections with other people (specifically with women/feminine energy), but I haven’t been able to fill that space since moving to Texas. I miss the friendships I grew up having, and I put a lot of pressure on filling that space for a while, but I realizing forcing it gets me nowhere and a lot of people simply aren’t in a place to be able to reciprocate my energy in a meaningful way. A lot of people are really caught up in their own lives (which is totally understandable), already have other people filling the space for friendship in their lives, or simply aren’t at the level of maturity and growth that I am so they can’t connect with me on a deep level. Making close friends as an adult is way harder, people are just busier, but I really do trust that I will attract the right people and they will come into my life at the right time.

Continuing to expand and grow into my spirituality and spiritual practices by meditating, journaling, listening to podcasts, and practicing yoga has also brought me solace and internal happiness. It’s hard to describe and most people my age/similar to me are really disconnected from having their own authentic beliefs/practices because they either go with what they’re taught or dismiss it altogether. For me, having a career path I find exciting and fulfilling, a stable romantic relationship, healthy friendships, a spiritual practice, and fun hobbies are all areas of my life that I need to satisfy to feel balanced and genuinely happy. Knowing this, and after reflecting on all of these areas within the past year, I’m manifesting the following for each area in 2020, but I also know the Universe knows more than me and things may go differently for a reason (like my poli sci program not working out) so I trust that I will receive this, or something better...

☽ Career — I will get a second job/start a side hustle that will help fund my school and travels this year, I will start learning exciting new things that prepare me for a field/job I’m passionate about, I will secure an internship that pays well and allows me to practice/gain useful skills, I will get scholarships for next school year, I will feel a sense of belonging and make friends in my new program, I will continue learning and exploring different options/opportunities, and I will make connections with people who can mentor me and help me grow into starting my career.  

☽ Relationship — Pavel and I will continue to support, love, and care for each other in all aspects. Our love will continue to grow and flourish as we grow in life together. We will go on adventures that make us feel happy, excited, exhausted and refreshed. We will add to our stories and crazy experiences. We will continue treating each other with love and respect, supporting each others’ growth as individuals while also growing together in a really beautiful way. 

☽ Friendship — I will continue to grow my valuable friendships with people who are on the same wavelength as me. I will have a lot of laughs and good memories with people I care about. I will get deeper into the communities of like-minded people around me (music, yoga). I will find more friends who inspire me and actively support my creative ideas/work. I will develop deeper and more fulfilling friendships with people who reciprocate my energy, and I will extend myself in new ways by being the person I needed for others. 

☽ Spirituality — I will continue practicing meditation and yoga as much as I can. I will also continue to read one book per month and listen to one podcast per week to grow the value in my practice. I will journal and synchronize my self-growth with lunar and astrological cycles, which allows me to tap into my higher power and divine connection with the universe. I will also consider doing a YTT this summer or winter, but regardless I will find outlets to be of assistance to others and give back in this area that has been of such deep value in my life. I will practice breathing, mindfulness, and presence to feel grounded during stressful times. I will get better at protecting my energy and staying rooted in my own positive energy and affirmations (aka, not letting other people’s BS or toxic energy affect me). 

☽ Fun — I will continue going to events that surround me with good energy and good people. I will continue doing what brings me joy, allows me to move and release tension and energy, and that brings me closer with like-minded friends. I will continue to make the incredible trips and experiences I desire a reality by saving money and smart planning. I make more of an effort to bring this good energy with me into my every day by being myself and sharing my laughs and joy with the people around me. I will continue to feed my inner child, my creativity, and my natural human existence on this earth.

I have no doubt that 2020 will continue this amazing momentum and growth that I have cultivated over the past year. I am beyond blissful and grateful for the incredible year I had and all it taught me, but I’m also ready to move forward feeling more prepared, confident, and capable of making everything I can imagine a reality. 

#reflection #2020 #2019 #2020 goals