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sweet-symphony0 · 3 years

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Despair

Hey hey, guess who’s back and finally had time to write! Happy Twin Tuesday! This one is...current, I’ll say. That’s all I’m going to say.

Summary: 01/06/2021. Rami and Sami can’t believe their eyes. They cope the only way they know how.

Tags: @the-real-ramimalekpeen @xmxisxforxmaybe @killerqueengigi @txmel @laminy @ramimedley @rathernotmyname @ramilicious @sherlollydramoine @edteche2 @hah0106

---

Sami’s phone was ringing, he could hear it vibrating in his bag from he stood next to his desk, surveying his thirty students, their attention quickly diminishing. He ignored it, even as it rang a second time.

“Alright guys-hey, don’t pack up yet, this is important-reading for tonight is chapter 12, your essays on Slaughterhouse Five are due Friday, so don’t forget.” There were groans heard from around the room, and Sami continued, “and no, I won’t be accepting any late papers; I gave you a month and a half for this. That’s more than generous, get it done.”

There were more groans and Sami smirked inwardly to himself as the bell rang and students began shuffling out the door, with a few calls of “see ya, Mr. Malek!” and Sami smiled. “Yeah, have a good day guys. Nice work today.”

When the last student was out the door, Sami took a moment to himself, glad he now had a free period before his next class. He cleared his throat, and began erasing the notes from the smartboard in preparation for the next round, when his phone vibrated and he remembered someone was trying to reach him, idly wondering what was so important that someone would call him at work.

Skimming his notifications, he frowned. Three texts from Rami, a missed call from him, and two texts from friends which he ignored for the time being, instead reading Rami’s messages:

“I know you’re at work, but you need to see this.” and underneath, in a separate message, a link to a CNN article that read “Rioters break windows and breach US Capitol.”

Sami stared, bewildered, and then read the third message Rami had sent.

“Turn on the news.”

Sami reread the headline, clicking the link Rami had sent, and he skimmed the article, his mind reeling.

“What the fuck...?”

Rami’s response was instant:

“You need to turn on the fucking news. Now.”

Sami wasted no time in rushing to the staff room, thanking his stars he had a break for the next forty minutes. It didn’t surprise him that nearly a quarter of the staff were already there, and he slipped inside, spotting a few of his colleagues from the English department. Even though the second bell had rung, no one in the room bothered to move, their eyes transfixed on the news coverage blaring from the TV. And as Sami turned his gaze to watch too, he felt his stomach sink in dread.

There were a cacophony of murmurs around the room, Sami catching tidbits here and there.

“What are we going to do?”

“There’s nothing we can do right now-”

“No, we can’t just-someone has to explain to the kids-”

“No, they’ll find out soon enough, we keep teaching like normal-”

“This is a high school,” one of Sami’s friends in the history department finally sighed tiredly. “You really think those kids don’t know by now? They have social media and cell phones. They know. And we can go about like usual, but this is something we’re all going to be talking about tomorrow.”

Sami’s eyes drifted back to the television, watching intently as he drowned everyone else out. They were inside the building now, hoards of them, a never ending sight. Sami watched with wide, disbelieving eyes, horrified as people scaled the building walls, smashed through windows, and he couldn’t help but think frantically: why wasn’t anyone doing anything?

He snorted to himself. Right. You know why.

He didn’t think he’d be able to go back to work after this. Slowly, one by one, his colleagues filtered out as most of them had classes to attend to that period and couldn’t push being late anymore. Once he was alone, Sami sank into one of the chairs, eyes glued to the newscast, feeling frozen from what he seeing.

He felt sick.

He texted Rami back and forth, a steady stream of furious conversation, not even realizing when the bell rang. Scrambling out of his seat, he rushed back to his room, just in time for when kids started filing in.

“Hi guys,” he pasted a smile on his face. “Settle down, and we’ll get started.”

He taught on autopilot, the forty minutes going by without him realizing, and before he knew it, kids were standing up and he was calling out the same thing from before: “read chapter twelve tonight, your essays are due Friday...”

Whatever previous intentions Sami had about sticking around the rest of the school day to get his work done, he threw right out the window. Racing home, he dug through his fridge for a beer, and then after better judgement, grabbed another, before he turned his TV on and called Rami.

Sami didn’t even let him say hi. “Are you safe?”

“Yeah,” Rami nodded. He was moving through his apartment, Sami could see, presumably to get to a quieter spot, and his gaze was off to the side, watching something. “I’m fine. Nothing here has happened yet, thankfully.”

“Listen,” Sami said urgently. “Stay inside okay? Don’t go out today if you don’t have to. You don’t-no one knows what will happen. Please.”

“I’m not moving,” Rami said. “I can’t-fucking after this, I can’t concentrate. I’m supposed to be rehearsing lines for tomorrow but fuck that. This is insane.”

Sami watched as the mob of people made their way inside the Rotunda, and he sank onto the couch. Then a few minutes later, they were inside the Senate chamber, pushing things around, and when he changed the channel to find another possible view, there was a photo up of a man carrying a confederate flag.

“Oh my fucking god.”

Rami’s voice was low. “I know. It gets worse.”

“Oh no, don’t say that.”

“They-they took down the American flag,” Rami said with barely restrained rage. “And replaced it. With a fucking Trump flag.”

Sami choked. “You’re not serious.”

“I wish I weren’t. And our president,” Rami scoffed. “is encouraging it. Fucking-” he stopped short, thinking for a moment on whether or not to complete what he wanted to say, before he shook his head in exasperation. “It’s all so exhausting.”

“That’s unconstitutional,” Sami murmured, flipping channels again, and he dropped his beer when he saw the constructed noose on the other side of the Capitol, staining the carpet, but he didn’t care. “Who is that for?! What the fuck!”

“What? What am I missing?”

Sami didn’t answer, still rooted on the spot, watching as officers finally brought out tear gas. “Fuck...is there any update on the Senators?”

“Not that I can tell. Though they are saying a few Republican ones are agreeing with this bullshit.”

Suddenly everything clicked, and Sami realized why today, of all days, this was happening. As he watched the coverage of Trump’s tweet, the rally earlier that morning, he idly wondered how much damage had already been caused, and whatever else he’d missed.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” he sighed, and Rami chuckled flatly.

“I’ve had a bottle of wine open for the last hour. Wish you were here to join me.”

“Well,” Sami stood up, grimacing at the mess he’d made from the spilled beer. “I can join you from afar. What are you drinking?” Rami gave him the name of a Cabernet they were both fond of, and Sami grinned triumphantly when he found a spare bottle in the back of his wine cooler. Propping his phone up on the counter against the block of chopping knives, he made quick work in opening and pouring himself a generous glass. “Cheers, man.”

“Cheers. What are we cheers-ing to?”

Sami hummed, licking the bit of wine that had dripped down his finger. “To the compete and utter fuckery that has been...the six days of this new year.”

“That works,” Rami was silent for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts, watching the news again. “You know, I...obviously after the last four years there’s been a lot of unrest and contempt. But to this extent, for thousands of people to..to believe-”

“Say an election is rigged and then stop the process in almost every way they can?” Sami took a generous sip of his wine. “To destroy the Capitol? Yeah. I know.”

“Unbelievable,” Rami said succinctly, and after a moment: “I should’ve stayed in London.”

“They’re not much better,” Sami snickered, glancing at his twin. “Besides, London doesn’t have me.”

Rami laughed. “You think I plan my life around you?”

“What, you mean you don’t? I’m shocked. That hurts.”

“Definitely not,” Rami smirked and Sami laughed.

“Alright hot shot, don’t let that hair gel go to your brain too. There’s enough on your head already.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Rami was grinning, and Sami grinned back.

“Just trying to keep you humble, you know. I don’t give a shit if you have a shiny gold toy now.”

“Wow,” Rami muttered. “You wish your hair looked as good.”

“A greasy mess? Yeah, no thanks.”

Rami laughed again, and Sami grinned, pleased at the fact, sipping his wine again as they turned back to the news. “Fuck, it really is a shit show isn’t it?”

“I’ve always said he would leave the White House, but he’ll burn it down with him as he goes.”

“Yeah,” Sami sighed, his anger boiling all over again. “Looks like it. I wish you were wrong.”

“Me too.”

Glancing at the clock, he saw it had been a hour since he’d gotten home, which meant it was around 4pm on the east coast. Tuning back to the coverage, the mob outside the Capitol had grown, more people were scaling the wall to get inside, and Sami couldn’t help but think how all too easy it was for them.

“So uh...where’s the tear gas? The rubber bullets? The arrests?”

Rami snorted. “You’re fucking kidding, right? C’mon. Like that applies to them.”

Sami snorted too, and then laughed weakly, which turned into a laughing fit, and he could hear Rami calling his name. “Sorry...it’s just...fuck all of them.”

Rami raised his glass in a toast before he downed it in one go, pouring another serving. “Amen.”

“God, how am I supposed to explain this to my kids? You’re telling me I have to go to work tomorrow after this?”

“Same here,” Rami said. He was moving again, and Sami could see he was back in the kitchen too, digging through his refrigerator. He produced a bunch of grapes, a platter of salami, and a block of cheddar cheese, and Sami watched as he began to assemble an antipasti platter for one. “I don’t want to head to work. Seems pointless, after this.”

Sami bit his lip thoughtfully. “It’s not...useless. Use it. You’re angry-”

“Angry? No, I’m well passed pissed off at this point.”

“There you go. Use it, use that rage towards your scenes and whatever your character is. It’s...” Sami shrugged meekly at Rami, who was watching him intently. “It’s the only thing we can do at times like this, right?”

“I suppose,” Rami muttered, a tired expression on his face, and popped a grape into his mouth. He turned around, opening the fridge again and came back holding some hummus and olives in his hand. “I imagine it’ll be the only thing anyone will talking about for the next week. Rightfully so.” He opened the olives, laying a few of them out next to the salami, and stuck the jar back into the fridge.

Sami was bemused. “How much are you eating?”

“As much as it takes to get through this shit show. I’m supposed to be on a diet right now, but I don’t give a shit. If I’m going to wine and dine watching this, I might as well do it properly.”

“Now I really wish I were there.”

“Yeah, me too. It would make it more bearable. But...this will do for now.”

Sami went silent, watching the TV again, which was now reporting about gunshots and a woman wounded. “Jesus Christ.”

Rami was muttering under his breath. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

They didn’t speak after that, both of them too lost in watching the news coverage, and Sami gripped his glass tightly as took a breath in to ease his anxiety.

Swallowing, he poured another glass, knowing he wouldn’t be finishing the bottle, and instead capped it and placed it in the fridge for tomorrow. It was an odd feeling, one that “scared” wouldn’t be able to cover. It was a looming, threatening feeling; something like this was so deeply entrenched in the fabric of the country. It wasn’t something that would go away on January 20th, as much as he wished for that. He wasn’t surprised that people had so much hatred for anyone other than themselves were coming out of the woodwork, blindly following what their commander in chief told them. The repercussions of this day would be something that would take a long time to repair.

“I’m tired,” he said suddenly. Rami’s voice was quiet, and though Sami didn’t elaborate, Rami seemed to understand what he meant perfectly.

“I know. So am I.”

---

When the crowds eventually thinned out, and Sami went back to work the next morning, he read the highlights of things he’d missed, flipping through the photos of the wreckage before the first period bell rang. When students trickled in, he was met with a sea of somber faces, and he knew he wouldn’t be teaching his regular lesson plans for the day. He felt enraged all over again.

Instead, he hopped up onto his desk, sitting cross legged and observing his students. “Alright. I would be...a very poor educator if I didn’t bring up what happened yesterday to all of you. And I know you’ll hear about it later in the day, I’m sure, but what we do here as teachers affects you guys for the rest of your lives. Now I don’t really care if you can’t tell me the imagery themes in The Great Gatsby, but I do care if you can’t think for yourselves. You’ll be reading and hearing a lot different things in the next coming weeks from people who think they’re right. And you’re all old enough, in my opinion, to have your own opinions on this. That being said, we all know what the banned book list is, correct?”

There were students nodding, and Sami nodded too, and he hopped off the desk to pull said list up. “Good. Pick a book from here, read it. There’s a reason all these books are banned from certain school curriculum, and I want you guys to pick one, and tell me why. It’s January. For every book you manage to get through from now till June, if you give me a one page analysis on your thoughts, I’ll give you extra credit that counts towards your final.” His students perked up at that, and he smiled inwardly. “Five points for every book, sound good?” There were murmurs of approval, and Sami continued, “it’s not mandatory, so don’t feel pressured to this. But I would...appreciate it if you did.”

“What if we read them all?” Someone asked.

There was always one.

Sami’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Good luck. You’ll notice there’s plenty of books on there we’ve read already.”

His students started chattering excitedly, and Sami cleared his throat, glancing at his copy of The Color of Water, which is what they were studying now. They would be finishing that tomorrow, the test for it was Monday, something which Sami had to make over the weekend. He hadn’t decided what to teach next, his gaze drifting to the copies of To Kill A Mockingbird in the back of the classroom, which was what he was planning to start Monday, after the kids took their test.

He debated on it, and then Rami’s words came back to him from the night before.

“He’ll leave the White House, but he’ll burn it down with him as he goes.”

He cleared his throat. “Guys, we’re just going to finish reading for the rest of the period, and we’ll go over the whole book for tomorrow before your test. So if you’ve got your books, take ‘em out.”

Later, once his classes were over for the day, he headed to the library, intent on finding Maria and asking for his next lesson plans.

“Hey Sami,” she greeted. “Back again? How’d they fare with Color of Water?”

“Not bad,” Sami said. “We’re finishing it up, test is Monday.”

“So, you’re here for Mockingbird?”

“No I’ve got Mockingbird,” he murmured, scanning the bookshelves. “That was what I was going to go with originally, but I’ve had a change of heart. Do you know if any of the faculty is teaching Orwell at the moment?”

“The freshmen, some of them are doing Animal Farm. But none of the AP classes right now. Which one?”

Sami spotted what he was looking for, and based on the piles of books they had, no one else had taught it yet, or he was late to the game.

“1984.”

#twin tuesday #twin tuesday fic #sami malek #rami malek #malek twin appreciation #this might not be people's cup of tea #but i've been so angry #come chat with me about the fuckery that is known as the united states government #I tried not to make this too on the nose or preachy #hopefully I succeeded #A note: this doesn't take place in a quarantined zoom classroom obviously #even though LA is awful right now #teachers in this fandom #please tell me if I did the school setting correctly or not

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addierose444 · 3 years

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Back to Campus: Spring 2021

It has been 10 long months since I last stepped foot on the Smith College campus (or out of my home state for that matter). I am now officially back! Hooray! As I said in a recent post, I was prioritized for early arrival due to my job in ResLife as a Community Advisor. As I only just got here and am far from being settled in, this post is mostly just about the process. Hopefully this year I will actually post a room tour of sorts! (Last year, I literally only posted a photo of my emptied out room).

Back in mid-December, I signed up for an arrival slot (2:00 on Friday the 22nd of January). I was so excited about returning to campus that I started packing quite a while ago. To make the packing process easier in the future, I created an extensive packing list. To read my college essentials guide, click here. On Friday, my dad drove me to Smith. Before returning to campus, we stopped by the house of some family friends to grab the rest of my dorm essentials. Since Massachusetts considers my state (Vermont) high-risk, I wasn’t allowed to move directly into my spring housing. At this point in time, Massachusetts and Hawaii are the only states with low-risk status.

My house, Parsons, has been using Discord for our virtual house community. You can read about the other apps I use in (remote) college here. As I was the first one on campus, I decided to keep my residents updated on the check-in and quarantine process. This was not part of my job in ResLife, but it definitely felt relevant to that work. Even though I am a returning student and in ResLife, I didn’t fully know what to expect and figured others would appreciate a student’s perspective. I was already planning on writing this blog post but decided to just compile my updates here. For starters, I didn’t see the need for a total rewrite. I also thought it would be a fun and different post style. Lastly, I think there is value in knowing what people are thinking in the moment rather than just reflectively. Note that my updates are written to my Parsons residents and weren’t edited to reflect the audience of this blog. I did add some additional images to this blog post, but most were also sent via Discord.

Friday @ 1:19

Parsons in real life!

Friday @ 4:07

Just a quick update. I have moved into my quarantine location and thought I would let you all know a little more about the check-in process from a student's perspective. All official information can be found in an email titled "IMPORTANT ARRIVAL INFORMATION". You basically just enter the CC, present your OneCard (unless you are a new student in which case you will receive yours), follow the arrows, and do what you are told. The whole process is quick and easy. The COVID test is painless (you can feel it though) as the swab doesn't need to go super deep into your nose like with other tests. While I strongly advise showing up at your scheduled time, if you are a little bit early, you may be able to check-in anyway. (I checked-in about 20 minutes early without an issue). The only hiccup I had was that I got the wrong room key (my correct room number but for Park House). As it's hard to hear people with masks on, be sure to check the envelope containing your room key and bracelet before leaving the ResLife table (to avoid going around the CC for a second time like I had to). I think check-in will only get better and even going around twice was still very quick and easy. If you have concerns and would like to talk to me about them, feel free to send me an email or direct message me here on Discord. As for moving things into Parsons, it was exhausting as no one was allowed to help me. When you arrive at Parsons, someone (possibly me) should be there to greet you (and make sure you don't stay over an hour). (Some of you may also meet me in the CC as I will be helping distribute keys). See you soon!

Friday @ 5:02

As for the quarantine location, I am currently quarantined in the Ellery Inn. The other location is the Fairfield Inn & Suites. You can get to either location by way of a free shuttle. (Your ticket is the bracelet you receive at check-in). Students sit far apart with masks, but I personally felt more comfortable having my dad drop me off at the hotel. It is also worth noting that both hotels are within walking distance. The bracelet is also important so that staff in the house know you are allowed to be there. (If you have approved guests (low-risk state), I think they also get bracelets). I haven't learned the whole color-coding system, but my bracelet is red and lists my Parsons and Ellery rooms. My quarantine room is actually really nice. I have a comfortable king-sized bed and my own bathroom. When you arrive you get a bag with a few snacks, water, activities from OSE, and general information (including the wifi password). I will keep you posted on the food situation as dinner is yet to arrive. I will momentarily post the menu that was in my welcome bag. Hopefully, these updates are somewhat helpful or interesting. Let me know if you have specific questions.

Friday at 5:15

Still waiting on dinner (to be delivered before 7), but here are the aforementioned snacks.

Friday @ 5:34

Dinner! Will let you know how it is soon, but my roommate from last year has said "The chicken is very tender!". Basically what happens is the people delivering the food knock loudly on the door, announce "dinner" and leave paper bags outside your room. Breakfast for tomorrow was also delivered.

Friday @ 6:18

I was initially quite worried about the food situation (during quarantine) as I am a picky eater and didn't get to choose the meal. (It's all based on the food preference form). The first dinner was much better than I feared. The chicken had flavor, was tender, and was fully cooked. The greens were also tasty. The potatoes could have used some ketchup but were pretty good when eaten with the chicken. I don't really like beets, so I just ate a few to try them. They didn't have much flavor but were well cooked. As for the cookies, they had good flavor but were very hard. Overall, I was unnecessarily worried about the food situation but am definitely excited to get out of quarantine to pick my own food among other things.

Friday @ 6:26

Tomorrow's breakfast! Looks pretty good other than the fact I hate bananas. I am most excited about the vanilla soy milk. I just don't get why we get plastic bottled water at each meal.

Saturday @ 11:51

Lunch for day two in quarantine has arrived. Another gripe that I have is that we get a new full set of plastic silverware at each meal. It's the compostable kind, but I don't think it's going to be composted. So far quarantine is boring, but not that bad. There is a TV in the room with cable and Roku. Make sure you pack your quarantine bag carefully as you cannot leave your room until you get an official release email from ResLife. The rooms (at least mine) have a mini-fridge, so if you have food or medications that require refrigeration, not to worry. We got an email today saying that we will be released on Monday at the latest. I initially had the impression we'd get out on Sunday and yesterday it sounded like we may get out today. I am obviously hoping to get out sooner rather than later, but I'll just have to wait and see.

Saturday @ 5:57

Dinner day two. Even though I have been busy with a French essay, I am definitely getting restless here in quarantine.

Saturday @ 6:38

Yesterday's dinner was better than today's, but this one wasn't too bad. The tortillas were dry, so the meal was better and less messy without them. My main critique is that while the beef had good flavor, it was tough. I also think yesterday's greens were a little bit better. Here's what I got for tomorrow's breakfast. I am hoping to be released from quarantine tomorrow, but it could be as late as Monday. Quarantine releases are at noon or 4 pm.

Sunday @ 9:15

I passed my initial COVID screening! (Still waiting on my official release email from ResLife). Just for a reference point, I took my test a little before 2 pm on Friday and got the results email at around 11 last night. (Basically, you get an email letting you know that the lab results are available and are given a registration code to set up your account).

Sunday @ 11:45

Well, I am still in quarantine, but at least lunch has arrived. Noon is fast approaching, so I might not be getting released until 4.

Sunday @ 12:33

I finally received the official release email from ResLife!!! I can leave as soon as 1 pm and must be moved out by 4 pm. Like with arrival, there are shuttles every half hour. Starting tonight I will be ordering my food through the Grubhub app and picking it up myself. I also have another COVID test scheduled for tomorrow.

Sunday @ 1:17

I am officially back at Parsons! (I decided to walk instead of taking the shuttle). Feel free to continue asking questions, but I think this is the end of my arrival updates. See you soon!

#college #Smith College #spring 2021 #check-in

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midnightmorales · 5 years

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only a scrape - p.p.

prompt: "it's only a scrape," "only a-? you've been fucking stabbed!"

warnings: light blood mention, stab wound, swearing, just the slightest dash of angst, also i didn't proofread this so

word count: 2.1K

pairing (platonic): peter parker x (ex bestfriend!) reader

summary: peter gets stabbed, and doesn't know who to go to besides his old best friend. while reader is cleaning his wound, they realise that they miss being friends with him.

a/n: this is my birthday post for pete! she's a bit late, because i forgot to queue her before bed last night, but i did write her yesterday, so it still counts! i also tried to make this gender neutral! i may have slipped up somewhere... but i hope you enjoy it! another thing- there are some slight crush themes in there, but they don't quite develop.

--------------------

you sighed, drumming your pencil on your desk.

it was 3:43am, and all you still hadn't come up with a topic for your essay, which, unfortunately, was due in five hours.

you were supposed to write an analysis of a theory of your choice. the catch? it had to relate to current events.

your friend had jokingly suggested you write your essay on spider-man. you had to admit, it was a great idea.

just a week ago you were always talking about spider-man. you had his merch, and you'd even seen him in action once or twice (though, helping old ladies cross the street is much to call 'action'). everyone knew you were obsessed a fan.

that might've been the one question everyone in your class was dying to know the answer to, as well. as the masked hero grew in popularity, everyone was growing more and more curious: who was spider-man, really? whose face lay behind the mask?

and you could've done it too. you could've written a fifty-page analysis on spider-man, and in the process you probably could've figured out who he was. and you would've too!

if it hadn't been for the fact that you already knew who he was.

to be fair, you'd only just found out three days ago. you laughed to yourself thinking about it, but the circumstances under which you had found out were definitely nothing to giggle at- that is, at the time of the event.

you remembered it vividly, as if it had happened only a few seconds ago.

it was friday. you'd been in your unicorn footie pajamas, sitting on your bed eating oreos and listening to music, when you heard banging on your bedroom window.

you paused your song, listening for it again. it was almost midnight, you realised, shooting a quick glance at your clock. who would be at your window at 11:56pm?

"y/n!!" you heard. you froze. that was definitely not one of your parents. someone was at your window.

to be honest, you were kind of freaked out. out of everyone you knew, you didn't think any of them would just show up at your bedroom window at midnight- at least, not without texting you first.

you quickly searched your room for defense- in case this visitor was not a friend. unfortunately, there were no stray weapons in your room.

so you opted for the next best thing- perfume. if promoted, it could be sprayed into someone's eyes, which would at least allow you time to get your parents.

you crept toward the window, perfume in hand. "y/n, please be up! i don't know who else to go to."

the voice sounded scared. you looked at the perfume bottle in your hand before setting it down and dashing to your window.

"spider-man?!" you cried.

spider-man! he was at your bedroom window? begging for your help?

you opened the window, and he climbed in, almost immediately collapsing on the floor.

you noticed he was clutching the side of his torso. "are you hurt?" you asked urgently, trying to move his hands.

they let up easily, allowing you to see the bloody, dirt-covered stab wound.

before you could react, the superhero pulled of his mask, gasping for air.

you sat there, shocked. peter parker? spider-man was dorky peter parker?

you felt bad for thinking it, but you couldn't help it.

up until high school, you and peter had been best friends. then, as you got older, you gravitated more towards the popular crowd, and peter the opposite.

you rarely spoke to him now. your new friends had him grouped with the nerds, and you didn't object.

instantly, you felt mounds of regret wash over you. how could you have let this happen to him? you shouldn't've let your friends talk about him like that! you should've been there for him.

"hi," he said, offering a weak smile.

"peter...." you breathed. you wanted to tell him you were sorry. that you had made a mistake. that you wanted to be friends again.

but you were smart. you knew that right now, your feelings didn't matter. peter was wounded, and he needed your help.

you snapped yourself out of your trance, and instructed him to apply pressure to the wound.

after that, you didn't really know what to do.

years of watching tv and reading books had taught you that much, but what came after.

you pulled out your phone and hesitantly typed in the words "how to treat a stab wound".

you weren't quite sure if you could trust wikihow, but it was your best bet at the moment.

"okay, lay down," you told your former friend. he followed your instructions, laying on down on your floor. "oh, here,"

you handed him a pillow from your bed, and he put it under his head. "next we need too...." you trailed off as you read the page. how many times did they have to say 'deadly'?

"is that the only one you have?" you asked him, glancing up from your phone.

"yeah," you nodded, returning your gaze to your phone.

after a second, you looked up at him again. "peter?"

"yeah?"

"i'm gonna need you too uh... you have to.... you have to take off the suit." his eyes widened. "i know, i know... but i have to clean the wound,"

"y/n, you don't understand- i'm not wearing anything under this,"

at this, your eyes widened. "what do you mean you not-? you've got to be..."

"all i have on is underwear,"

"aw, you've gotta be shitting me, parker!"

"i'm sorry!" he said frantically.

"don't be, i'm not the one with the stab wound!"

"it's only a scrape," he said sheepishly.

"only a-? you've been fucking stabbed!"

he smiled faintly. "yeah...."

"look, how about this? i'll see if i can find you some of my brother's pants to wear? but you can't have a shirt,"

"that works, i guess,"

"don't move," you said, switching the light off in your room before opening the door, and slinking out of your room.

you snuck down to the laundry room, and searched the dryer. you rummaged until you saw some black sweatpants. you snatched the, praying they were your brothers, and dashed back up to your room.

"here," you handed them to peter in the dark. "while you put these on I'm going to get you some water and a snack,"

peter started to object, but you quickly cut in. "this is not about hospitality, parker, you're losing blood by the second!"

you went down to your kitchen and grabbed a couple bottles of water. before you got anything to eat, you realized the oreos you had been eating were still in your room.

you went back up to your room with the water. "you dressed in there, pete?" you whispered.

"yeah," he replied.

you went into your room, shutting the door and switching the light back on.

peter parker. the nerdiest of nerds. the most awkward boy you'd ever met. peter benjamin parker. had an eight pack.

woah.

you restrained yourself from saying this out loud. you hoped you hadn't been staring as you turned away from him, pretending to be dealing with something on you bed. "lay back down," you told him.

a million thoughts were running through your head. could he tell how flustered you were? why were you so flustered anyway? and why on earth were you pretending to be so interested in your comforter???

you took a deep breath, grabbing one of the waters. you spun around to face peter again, trying to only look at his face, and handed it to him. "i've got some oreos too, if you wanted any,"

you returned your attention to your phone. it told you to put hand sanitizer on. you quickly found some , and applied it. next step.

"okay, peter, it says i have to talk to you to keep you calm," you told him, string your phone down face up. he nodded. "and you can't look at the wound,"

"so what do we talk about?" he asked. you quickly read the next step. you grabbed a blanket from your bed and threw it over him. he gave you a look of bewilderment.

"it said to keep you warm," you explained, looking back at your phone. "and i don't exactly know..."

"you wanna talk about when we were friends?"

you looked up at him, and tears began to sting at you eyes.

"sure," you breathed, returning to reading your phone. it said to clean the wound. "one second,"

you quickly ran to the bathroom, grabbing some bandages and a hand towel, dampening the towel with some water. you came back and knealt down beside peter.

"they said this was gonna hurt," you warned him. "so just talk through it, okay?"

he nodded. as you pressed the cloth to his skin, he gave a light gasp. "talk to me, pete," you urged him.

"do you... do you remember when we met?" you continued cleaning his wound, not answering. you were afraid that if you did, you may start to cry.

he didn't mind you lack of an answer, though. "we were six. i'd just moved in with may." you nodded as he spoke. "somehow, everyone found out about my parents. one kid told everyone that i was bad luck. he said if you talked to me, your parents would die."

you were tearing up now. you moved your hand to wipe your eye as you continued to work on the wound.

"you were the first person to talk to me." he laughed. "you told me that i should tell on 'those meanie heads'."

you laughed with him, bringing one of your hands up to your cheek again to wipe away the tears.

wikihow said not to close the wound, so you placed a bandage over it as instructed in a way that was 'packing' the wound.

"why did we stop being friends, y/n?" he whispered. you refused to look at him. instead, you focused all of your attention on making sure you'd put the bandage on him properly. "what happened to us?"

you couldn't pretend you didn't hear him anymore. finally, you looked him in the eyes. "we grew up." you answered. "we drifted apart," you looked away again, checking the wikihow for more steps.

"can we drift back together?"

he said it so quietly that at any other time, you wouldn't've heard him. but it was 1:23am. no one was awake, and the traffic was especially light that night.

"you still want to be friends with me?" you asked him, your voice wavering.

"no," he said, smiling lightly. "i want to be best friends with you, y/n. like before!"

you sniffed, smiling at your lap. "can we?" he asked.

"of course pete," you laughed, wiping both your eyes.

he sat up, and you hugged him as tightly as you could without affecting the wound.

"you know you still need to get that wound professionally looked at," you grinned.

"yeah..." he said, staring at the bandage. "you did a good job, you know,"

"google did a good job you mean," he laughed.

you'd found him one of your brother's t-shirts to wear after the emotional rebirth of your friendship. since then, you'd been chatting and eating oreos on your bedroom floor.

"how are you gonna tell may?"

he laughed. "are you kidding? she'd freak out. i'm going to have to ask mr. stark for help, though he might have a couple of quest- why are you looking at me like that?"

"mr. stark? as in tony stark? as in you know the tony stark???"

peter shrugged. "yeah, i mean, i didn't think it was a big deal-"

"you didn't- peter, do you hear yourself? you just casually said you might ask iron man to help with your stab wound!" you had grown a substantial amount in volume as you said this

"shhh, you'll wake your family up!" peter whispered quickly.

you'd forgotten it was the middle of the night. you glanced at your clock, as the time of day set in.

"you've probably got to go now, right?"

peter looked at the time. "oh, shoot, you're right." he stood, grabbing his suit. "where's the bathroom?"

you realised he wanted to change back into the suit. "no- peter, your suit is all dirty and bloody... and there's a hole in it!"

"but-"

"keep the clothes, pete. my brother won't mind,"

he looked from you to the suit in his hands. you did have a point. "are you sure?" he asked.

you nodded. "see ya at school, pete." he waved goodbye, climbing back out of your window.

as you snapped out of your memory you laughed again. you couldn't believe that it took a stab wound to bring you and peter back together.

you looked back down at your empty paper, and the perfect idea hit you like a train.

you began to write furiously- you just hoped you'd be able to get everything down before your alarm clock rang.

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szopenhauer · 4 years

Text

Walking into a party, what’s the first thing you look for? someone I know lmfao also a toilet Who was the last person you ate with? my mom, sister and niece

What do you do when you’ve had a bad day? depends Kiss on the first date? maybe Have you ever had a best friend who was of the opposite sex? yes Are you too shy to tell people when you’re developing feelings for them? wouldn’t say so If you could pack up and leave to move away, would you? yeah Do you wish you were with someone right now? I wish my dad was already home and everybody else OUT or just leave me alone, I wouldn’t mind my gf’s company much either How many more people do you think you’ll kiss before you die? nobody else unless CPR will count if I will ever need it Do you like messing with people when they’re drunk? nothing rude/dangerous Whats a song you absolutely hate? Gangnam style for example Your opinions on bi people? most of them end up in heterosexual relationships anyway because it’s easier Song playing right now? Melanie Martinez songs Has anyone ever mistaken you for someone else? my mom and sister

What color dominates your wardrobe? dunno

Do you prefer color photos or black-and white? color, black and white or sepia only if they’re really old - elseway they usually remind me of death What color is your house? What about car? white What color “emotion” are you feeling right now? I’m feeling blue? Have you ever seen a double rainbow before? yep, even this year Do you own anything that is rainbow-colored? like one item that I don’t even use anymore Do you enjoy coloring? not really

If you had the chance to get the cast of any canceled tv show back together to make one “reunion” season, would you? Or do you think it’s better remembering it the way it was? If so, what show would you choose? BUFFY!

Do you find music helps you sleep? Which type of music do you sleep to? recently it helps me survive until I feel sleepy enough to not overthink/cry/get anxiety attacks

Would you try to hold back your tears if you were attending a funeral? I didn’t cry but I believe it depends on who’s funeral it is

If you could be one age forever, how old would you be? I just want to be a kid

Do you have a particular shoe brand you favor over others? nah

If you had the choice, what would your final words be? telling my loved ones that I love them

What is one thing you always wanted as a child, but never received? big stuffed black panther and a treehouse mostly

What social situations tend to make you most nervous? all of them?...

What is one medical myth you’re tired of hearing? for an example that severe illnesses are visible all the damn time

Do you like making up nicknames for people? love, they’re catchy and other ppl start to use them to :D

Delete a year of your life, or start over in a new town? deleting one year wouldn’t help unless it was a year I was born like in Shrek movie...

What do you call your grand-parents? babcia

What’s your favorite song by Taylor Swift? Why is that your favorite? the only one I liked was Bad blood mostly because of the music video

What do you think about your hair right now? ugh...

Do you do your homework at the last minute? oh well...

Would you rather get a new brother or sister? new as in a way of replacement or another?

Have you ever used a Polaroid camera? I wanna buy one someday

What is your favorite thing to do online? lots

Have you ever gone to see a movie just to make fun of it? that’s stupid

Would you rather watch Family Guy or South Park? Simpsons

Does it bother you when people wear pajamas out? I’d do that myself :3

Have you ever tried online dating? How did it go? I tried and every single “relationship” failed, not that there were many of them, I met plenty of people that I wish I didn’t tho

Who was the last person you took a picture with? my sister and niece but shadows only

Do your parents allow smoking in your house? nooo

Is your last name shorter than your first name? longer

Last two numbers in your phone number? personal

Who’s in your house? my fam just went to the garden and I have a moment of silence, finally

What magazine(s) do you look at the most? interior design

Are you paranoid? kind of

What item should never be shared? toothbrush, bloody period pad, underwear, towel, used piece of toilet paper, gum that someone already had in their mouth etc.

Do you sleep with a fan on? I don’t even own a fan

How many plants are in your home? too many

Do you ever type “kik” instead of “lol”? it never happened :o

Do you know how to play chess? forgot

Are you picky? about some stuff, sure

How tall is the person you like? tall, much taller than me

Are you excited for winter? if I was then only for Christmas or New year eventually my birthday but it’s doubtful

If it was free and it would work perfectly, would you get plastic surgery? but it ain’t safe and painless etc.

Have you ever been called prince or princess? I dislike that

Do you like your body? pfft

What do you hear right now? dog barking

Last thing you wrote your name on? documents

Where did you get the pants you’re wearing right now? I don’t even remember anymore

When is the next time you will see your grandma? ...

What is it tomorrow? Sunday

Have you ever laughed at someone because they had a funny name? not face to face, I heard some funny names during mass or my mom told me about them and I saw some online or in movie credits Speaking of names, why do celebrities always call their kids stupid ones? to be unique If you have a problem with someone, will you confront them? maybe

Are you more likely to be called a hard worker or lazy? lazy What is your sense of humor like? quite dark, sarcastic, dry, witty, puns, daddy jokes, memes Have you ever had a dream in black and white? I don’t recall What about a dream with no sound? it’s possible What types of people do you tend to avoid? ... all of them? What is one personality trait a potential friend must have? understanding and similar sense of humor Have you ever been in a helicopter? no What color car would you like to have? DeLorean is grey but if I had a jeep then yellow, red, gree, black or silver

What is your favorite mode of travelling? on foot or train, definitely not plane Are your favorite characters often what the majority like? I hardly ever like the main character so I doubt it but who knows? Is it dark outside right now? not yet Do you get scared when it’s a full moon? when I’m outside it’s bothering If you travel anywhere, do you always buy souvenirs for people? often Are you waiting on anyone coming home right now? YES Do you like the way your voice sounds? nope Can you see the stars from your house? not currently but at night - if it’s not cloudy - yup How would you react if your favorite band made a song with your first name as its title? awesome! unless it was real bad Are you considered an awkward person? it seems Is there a light on in the room you’re in? too bright for that What day were you born on? Saturday, my mom said I shouldn’t be lazy then but I responded with - I was half an hour late for Friday Do you like having a favorite everything or do you enjoy keeping open? I often say I have a lot of favorites of things as I have a hard time choosing just one for most of them

How often do you feel pressured to be better than or different than you are? For example, how often do you feel pressured to be skinner, tanner, prettier, etc? Keep in mind that pressure doesn’t always have to come from others; In fact, we can put a lot of pressure on ourselves. ugh...

Would you rather it snow for three days or rain for a week? rain for a week if it didn’t cause the flood

Have you ever changed the look of a survey because you didn’t like the way it was presented? This can even include adding or deleting numbers to the questions. many times

Does it bother you when surveys ask questions that Google could answer? I agree

When is the last time you had a cell phone that wasn’t a smartphone, if ever? 3 years ago

Do you know anyone who can speak more than 5 languages fluently? noooo

Would you rather write an essay on global warming or UFOs? UFO

Do you like sailing? When was the last time you went, if at all? never been and don’t wanna Favourite Pokemon? Mimikyu and Pikachu Do you or have you done martial arts? Which type? karate, self defence

Favorite animal. raccoon

Any turn ons? personal

3 most important people in your life right now? my dad, my gf and my mom

Do you respond to texts quickly? depends

Who was the last person you called? dad

Winter or summer? summer

What is the secret to a happy life? good health, enough money, peace and quiet, either no people around or only good ones, no worries/problems

What are some phrases/words you say often? MAYBE

What are some of your greatest fears? personal

Spicy food:Like or dislike? my stomach doesn’t like spicy food

Do you like to travel? nope

Do you like rain? yup

Would you rather visit the past or the future? future to see if it’s worth living for - past if not to enjoy once more what I lost

How often do you go to parties? never?...

Do you think you’re ambitious? I know I’m not

What makes you nervous? what doesn’t?...

First mobile phone? grey Siemens

Do you like sharing? sharing what?

What was the last picture you took with your phone? single tiny cloud

If you had one word to describe yourself, what would it be? ME

Are you more creative or logical? why can’t I be both?

Would you rather lie or hurt someone with the truth? I don’t know anymore

When you imagine yourself as really, really relaxed and happy, what are you doing? sleeping well and having a good dream?

What is the best news you could hear right now? that I have no allergies

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moonprincess92 · 7 years

Note

Congrats on the follower count! How about rebelcaptain + one is on a blind date that's not going well and the other is the waiter. Bonus points if Jyn is the waitress!

Ok so I have to apologise profusely anon, because Iattempted to write this prompt in like 3 different ways and absolutely none ofit worked. I TRIED I REALLY DID AND IM SO SORRY, but since it wasn’t working I wrote you something else instead and it’s literally completely different but I hope you’ll still like it anyway. x

Please enjoy this ‘you accidentally sent me a booty text butI’m considering saying yes anyway’ au

His phone buzzed just as he was stumbling in through his frontdoor with his arms full of groceries. Refusing to make the trip up the stairstwice, he was laden down with probably more than he should have carried at once andcursed when he started losing grip on his jacket under his armpit. Kicking thedoor shut behind him, he couldn’t check the message until he had dumped all thebags onto his kitchen counter in relief. The little messenger icon was afamiliar face so he tapped it absently as he started unpacking a bag –

– and promptly choked.

Usually if Jyn messaged him this late at night, it was because shehad found yet another thing to criticise from his latest essay. She apparentlydid all her best reading after 10pm because god forbid he ever get grilled at adecent hour, but he liked their conversations all the same. Used to theirchatting being based about their classes or occasionally straying into memesand their favourite tv shows, he was now quite literally rendered speechless atthe photo he had apparently just been sent.

Though her face wasn’t visible he had nodoubt it was Jyn just from the sheer muscle definition that he could sure ashell see because the only times he’d ever seen her this de-clothed before was whenthey’d occasionally hit up the gym together. She was almost naked in the mirror selfie she’d sent, her arms toned, her abs rock hard… fuck. It sent everything south and he didn’t know what the hell sound just came out of his mouth, but it miiiiight’ve been a whimper. The bra she wore in the selfie waswhite and lacy and the accompanying caption read:

this bra was too nice to not share

He… well, quite honestly, he stared for so long he thought hemight just be having a brain aneurysm. She had to be joking, right? Sure, this wasnothing like Jyn’s sense of humour, but it literally HAD to be a joke becauseit didn’t make sense if it wasn’t. The message felt like she had sent it (thesevere lack of punctuation kind of gave her away) but it was so far out of leftfield that he was almost certain it hadn’t been meant for him. No, some otherlucky bastard out there was supposed to be on the receiving end of thismessage, because he and Jyn weren’t like that, and who cared if maybe he kindof wanted to be likethat, because they weren’t and they couldn’t –

Zmmm.

Another message popped up. This time, it appeared that Jyn waskeyboard bashing.

Akjdskjdfjfdjdf FUCK Im so sorrycassian shit pls ignore this PLS

It didn’t help calm his racing heart at all.

He knew he had frozen foods slowly defrosting away in his grocerybags still, but they seemed like a minor detail in comparison to the battlewracking his mind. Quite honestly… he’d been on the verge of throwing allcaution to the wind and playing along. Maybe sending something a littlesuggestive back. It wasn’t an outright booty text, but it definitely wasn’tinnocent either and perhaps it was the way to start, a way to just flirt alittle, what could go wrong… but then he got that answer and he pressed hisforehead to his kitchen counter with a frustrated sigh.

On the days he wasn’tkidding himself, he knew that he was an absolute fucking goner for Jyn Erso.She was prickly and defensive and didn’t let any minor grammatical error pasther, but once she got used to you she was hilarious to be around and her smileliterally made his heart stop these days. Sometimes, on the nights they wouldstudy together late at the library, she would linger as he packed his booksaway and he got the feeling that hopefully, MAYBE, she was a goner too.

But then she said things like that and he would squash it alldown.

Another message. He lifted his head gingerly to read it.

God cassian SAY SOMETHING DAMN IT I need to know that I haven’tjust ruined our entire friendship lmao

He stared at her words, grappling hard until eventually, hefigured fuck it.

Friendship’s overrated. I was going to say it definitely looked nice.

He hit send before he could lose his nerve and wondered if it wasa little overdramatic to turn his entire phone off for good measure. He heldhimself back from adding on ‘just kidding’ and instead, forced himself to startputting away his groceries.

Another buzz made him drop the bag of frozen vegetables.

well, good. I wouldnt wanna waste a good selfie.

Cassian bit his tongue and typed back.

Honestly selfie game is 10/10. How’d you even get that angle?

I might’ve stood on somethin to make me tall enough. also might’venearly killed myself in the process

Ah the price we pay for a good selfie…

Gotta get these boobs lookin good somehow

They’ve been doing just fine before now, tbh

Fuck. That might’ve been a bit much. He grimaced, distractinghimself with his shopping for the next thirty seconds and initially ignoringthe subsequent message that eventually buzzed through. Finally, though, sheer nerves took over and he pulled up the conversation once again.

Cassian Andor, are you flirting with me?

You sent me a pic of your boobs, Jyn. He felt the need to stress this point. This was on her, shestarted this!

Touché. So wanna come over, then?

BOOM. He was dead! His head had exploded and he was definitely,100% very, very deceased.

Do you……mean that in the way I think you mean that?

HEY. I worked hard at that selfie. If I have to go through thehumiliation of accidentally sending it to my study partner, then the least theuniverse could do is also throw some sex in there for meBut um… hey if u want to say no, its chill. Idc its totallyfine no hard feelings

Cassian thought about it for about ten seconds. Then –

I can be there in ten

It was just as he was rushing to throw whatever the hell was leftin his grocery bags into the fridge – honestly, he literally didn’t give a shithow it was organised at this point – when he got another photo. He rubbed hiseyes, groaning a little at the image of Jyn’s body, slightly zoomed out now. Her entire torso and upper legs could be seen and that was how he figured out that her underwear matched thebra.

Hurry up, mate she added.

If you stop sending me shit like THAT I might Jesus lord

#rebelcaptain #ro fanfic #ro #my fanfiction #tbh this sounds like the premise for a friends with benefits fic #which ngl i kinda want to write #except i've already written friends with benefits like twice now hahahahaha #either way sorry again anon for not being able to do your original prompt #but i hope you liked this!!!!#xoxo

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morganhazelwood · 6 years

Text

2017 Retrospective

2017 was a year unlike any other. For a lot of people, it was scary, stressful, and a struggle to get through. But that’s not all it was.

I may not have ended my year with a signed agent, but I definitely made some forward progress.

I queried 31 agents, attended 2 writing conventions (including my 1st trip to Europe!), finished my second novel, wrote a third novel, and revised my first novel twice, (then edited it twice, cause you kinda got to after revising). I even got an R&R (Revise and resubmit) request from one agent!

Between Balticon and WorldCon: Helsinki, I hit 29 panels, 6 workshops, 2 presentations, 2 book launches, and 2 autograph signings. (Despite mostly having to queue up an hour before each Worldcon panel!) Plus, I met up with/made 3, no, 4 new writing friends in person. 🙂 And that doesn’t include the dozens of new friends I chat with weekly.

That all sounds pretty impressive! But, let’s look at the numbers.

My Writing Goals Last Year

I made sure to set SMART (specific, measurable, achievable, results-focused, and time-bound) goals.

By January 12th of last year, I was already starting to slip. But I didn’t give up.

Here are my admittedly mediocre results.

2017 Goals

☑ Edit my first novel with editor ☑ Finish rough draft of my second novel [minimum 5k a week until done] – Knocked this out quickly!

☒ Edit my second novel [minimum 50 pages a week] — Nope. Didn’t touch it. ☒ Send my second novel to beta readers — Nope. ☒ Write a short story —HaHaHa. Well, did this in October and December, instead. ☑ Attend Balticon

☒ Revise my second novel [Notecards, rip to shreds, rebuild] — Nope ☑ Attend some-other con – Like WORLDCON!

☑ Plan my third novel – I did! ☑ NaNoWriMo my third novel [writing 50-75k words] – I finished the rough draft at just over 51k. ☑ Revise my first novel or my second novel as needed ☑ Keep querying? or R&R if requested? – Had FEEDBACK from a reject letter about my opening chapter, with what I believe was a R&R, so I worked on that.

Monthly Goals

■ Post 1 book review on Amazon/GoodReads – Fell short. Overall, I reviewed 5.5 books (the last review didn’t go up until this year) and ranked 25 books.

■ Submit 3 Queries for both my first novel and picture book- Fell short. Overall though, I queried 31 agents, which was only 5 short of my target. If you ignore that I’m combining totals from both books’s queries…

Morgan in a “Burr Shot First” shirt, holding a book on “The Guide To Literary Agents” and the print-out of her latest draft shrugging and wondering if she should query again.

Morgan smiling at the camera with the river at Thingvellar behind her

WorldCon panel, featuring George RR Martin

Morgan in a red top, showing the crowd at George RR Martin’s panel

Top Lifetime Post

Posted towards the end of 2016, this post only had 53 views that year, but it became a sleeper hit and is now the main reason people who aren’t already following me find my blog. In 2017, it had 1,092 views!

10 Questions To Ask Your Beta Readers

In fact, I submitted an edited version of that blog post to the “Insecure Writers Group” for their essay anthology and it was selected! Becoming the first essay in the anthology and my first published work. (Free on Kindle!)

My Top 10 Posts of 2017

PitchWars is Coming! #PimpMyBio

Top 10 Tricks For a Better Query Letter

Confession: I’ve Been Struggling

How To Handle Rejection Letters

Morgan’s LASIK adventure

Writing Diversity

The #1 Reason I Won’t Let You Read My Manuscript

When Your Rough Draft Is Really Rough

3 Things That Make a Great 1st Line

A Message To My Fellow PitchWars Hopefuls

My Top 3 Posts of 2016

5 Stages of a PitchWars Hopeful

5 Big Things I’ve Learned About Editing

An Outline to Write By

My Top 3 Posts of 2015

Packing: Editing Your Life

I’d Make a Good Henchman

Handling the Unavoidable Info-dump

Social Media Stats

I like stats and tracking progress, so here are my numbers for 2017. I tried to be both engaged and engaging, but outside of Facebook, I may have been more of a creator than a consumer of content.

(Click HERE to answer 3 multiple choice questions on what you’d like to see more/less of in this blog!)

Followers

First off, I worked on getting more followers for my twitter and FB Page. Then, I started my own Youtube channel! Between all my social media accounts, I added 3,099 followers, with over 2/3rds being twitter followers.

The FB groups I run are where most of my engagement is, though. So, if I want more of my followers on twitter to even see my posts, I should probably post there, and actually reply/retweet people’s posts a little more regularly.

Content

This year I continued to keep my streak of blogging at least once a week. Once I started the vlog, I added to it at a weekly rate as well. My Goodreads stats are a bit deceptive as I added a bunch of books I’d read in years gone past when I created my account last year.

Some thoughts: I don’t see me posting here on the blog more often unless it’s quotes or images, but I should post to Instagram at least once a week. And if I’m going to use Pinterest, it would make sense to make mood boards for all my Works-In-Progress. Both for myself, my beta-readers, and my future fans! 😉

Account Break Down

WordPress – I started this blog in April of 2015.

Of my 81 posts, 21 of those were video versions of the weekly post. I think I’m going to combine these from now on.

Altogether, this blog had 7,778 views, 5,211 visitors, 912 likes, and 210 comments.

Twitter – MorganHzlwood – I joined in March of 2016

Tumblr – MorganHazelwood – I joined in June of 2016

In 2017, I posted 213 times. I counted. No clue how many posts prior.

Instagram – MorganHazelwood – I joined in 2015

Pinterest – MorganHazelwoo – I joined in 2015

Facebook Pages – MorganHazelwoodPage – I joined in 2015

Facebook – MorganSHazelwood – I joined in 2013.

Google+ – Morgan S Hazelwood – I joined in 2013

Stats! 28 likes and 2 comments. I counted.

GoodReads – Morgan Hazelwood – I joined in January 2016

I did 3 reviews and 27 ratings last year, for a total of 7 reviews and 279 ratings.

In Conclusion

I didn’t do as much as I’d hoped.

Some of that was external. People who are reading your work out of the kindness of their hearts and working around their own schedules aren’t necessarily going to adhere to your schedule. (Speaking of… I’ve been sitting on a 2 chapter critique since OCTOBER. Bad Morgan!)

Some of the was consequences of decisions.

I had LASIK in May, which impacted the amount of time I could read/etc.

In the fall/early winter, I applied for and got a new job. That required prep time, reviewing computer languages I hadn’t played with in 6 years, and some stress.

I’m running 2 Facebook PitchWars support groups and administering another SFF writer’s group. That takes time, energy, and spoons.

I’ve scheduled social time with friends Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday nights. Add in my blog post writing and uploading Wednesday nights and full weekend social schedule and I’m simply not making my writing a priority. Most of the social stuff is low key, not more than dinner and TV time, but it’s still a major time chunk. I love my friends and family, but I might have to talk with them about changing this schedule.

And some of it was clear, outright laziness. Binge watching the West Wing and cheesy Christmas Movies. Spending hours staring at facebook…

However…

I DID do a lot of writing, more revising on my first novel than anticipated, started a vlog, critiqued novels for friends and family, and read an average of more than 2 novels/novella’s a month. I queried my first novel on average more than twice a month and my Picture Book 4 times.

I may have fallen short, but you know what Les Brown says about that?

“Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.” – Les Brown [Image of Milky Way by A. Fujii, NASA]

How well did you do on your goals?

Had you given up on them in January, did you rock the BLEEP out of them, or did you do okay but think you might do better with concrete, SMART goals?

2017 Retrospective

2017 Retrospective 2017 was a year unlike any other. For a lot of people, it was scary, stressful, and a struggle to get through.

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newyorktheater · 4 years

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Paul Rudnick

You’re getting attention for “Coastal Elites,” which was supposed to be a play at the Public Theater, but launches as a film on HBO September 12th, starring Bette Midler, Kaitlyn Dever, Dan Levy, Sarah Paulson, and Issa Rae in five separate monologues about coping with the new abnormal. Less heralded is your role as Tweeter of Trump family foibles; some of these Tweets strike me as mini-plays, and others just draw blood. How did you come up with the two enterprises, and do you consider them connected in any way?

Paul Rudnick: As with everybody else, Twitter lets me talk back to the Trump administration. It’s like an anti-anxiety medication, and I’ve been trying to make my tweets mostly funny, instead of just constant howls of anguish. The Twitter community intrigued me, from every side of the political divide; it’s like a global town hall. It’s insane and filled with crackpots, but I like logging on to follow the world’s reactions to unfolding events in real time. Trump has galvanized Twitter and the weirdest part is, he pays attention to it. He’s furious when #TrumpMeltdown or #TrumpIsAnIdiot are trending.

I wanted to capture some of this rawness and frenzy in “Coastal Elites.” Right after the 2016 election I went to see my doctor for a check-up. He’s a very circumspect, ultra-professional guy, and he looked shell-shocked. He said that all of his patients didn’t want to talk about any medical problems – they couldn’t stop talking about the election. I wondered if this obsessiveness would subside, but it’s only expanded. And that’s where “Coastal Elites” came from. I started writing it about a year ago, and I was able to rewrite up until shooting, which ended a little over a month ago. We filmed the show remotely, with every possible Covid protection, and our director, Jay Roach and the amazing cast were incredibly helpful – everyone was hyper-informed about every nuance of politics.

The piece was always a collection of monologues, which also reflects Twitter, where people can pour out their frustrations without getting interrupted.

Neither of these projects are theater in any normal definition of theater, although it feels like there’s a theatrical sensibility at work (whatever that means.) I know you’ve had a varied career as a writer [e.g. films such as Addams Family Values and In & Out; essay collections such as I Shudder], but many people see you primarily as a playwright [The Collected Plays of Paul Rudnick] Or at least I certainly do, given that I’ve been attending your plays since “Poor Little Lambs.” Do you see yourself that way? Yet now playwrights are focusing online. Do you foresee any lasting effect on the theater of the current period, when “theater” and “online theater” are basically synonymous?

I very much think of myself as first and foremost a playwright. That’s how I started and that’s the world I love. When I started writing “Coastal Elites” it felt theatrical but I wasn’t sure where it would land; I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I’ve written monologues before and combined them into full evenings – this was the structure of my play “The New Century,” which was produced at Lincoln Center. I knew “Coastal Elites” wanted to be monologues, because I was dealing with characters at peaks of emotion and storytelling; they’re all in crisis. Monologues can be like songs in musicals – they’re outbursts.

We were originally going to stage “Coastal Elites” for a series of performances at the Public Theater in NYC, with a live audience, which Jay Roach would film for HBO. When the pandemic hit this became impossible, but then HBO and the show’s production team, which includes Jeffrey Seller, Scott Chaloff and Flody Suarez, all with extensive backgrounds in theater, wondered if there was another route. Once we knew that our cast and crew could be kept safe, Jay and I talked about how the show could be filmed remotely. Because the pieces are monologues, they lent themselves to the intense focus and intimacy of being filmed for TV. It’s like having a front row seat for performances by an incredible cast.

I never anticipated any of this, but the format ended up feeling like a great match for the material, and thanks to Jay, it doesn’t feel limited.

I’ve watched a lot of online theater, and much of it is amazing, especially because the times we’re living in give the shows such yearning. But with all that, I’m like everybody else: I’m desperate for the live event, to see actors onstage, to react as part of a packed theater, and to be in a rehearsal room. I have a new play called “Guilty Pleasure,” which was scheduled for this Fall at the LaJolla Playhouse, to be directed by my long-time collaborator, Chris Ashley. The production has understandably been postponed to next Fall.

I love how theater people are adapting creatively to the shutdown, and trying to stay economically afloat. And online theater will continue to be a world to explore, but nothing replaces, or will ever replace, live theater. It’s too essential and too joyous.

Ok, but do you think this moment of online theater experimentation will have any kind of effect on live theater itself when live theater returns?

The online experimentation during the pandemic will certainly affect subject matter, in terms of plays or musicals taking place during this period. It’s part of the internet’s and social media’s ongoing effect on theater; artists are inventing ways to include the online world in live events, with regard to everything from dating apps to TikTok. The world lives online, and theater had already begun to reflect that. Also, auditions and meetings were already taking place virtually, but this may become even more commonplace. Zoom readings will probably remain a useful tool for writers, actors and directors, as a shorthand during the development of theater projects. Maybe the pandemic has normalized a new form of rehearsal, especially for performers whose personal lives and schedules don’t always allow everyone to be in the same room.

Even more than the pandemic, the Black Lives Matter movement is already having a huge and welcome effect on theater. Artists have been using this downtime to examine how theater, at every level, can become truly inclusive. Whenever life returns to something resembling normal, theater may, in many necessary ways, be changed forever.

What was lost in “Coastal Elites” by having it become a film on HBO rather than a play at the Public Theater?

I’m not sure what was lost in transforming Coastal Elites from a theatrical experience to a filmed one. On one hand, comedy benefits enormously from audience response; but I watched our cast navigate this potential obstacle with incredible skill, and the script gained an intensity. Most of our cast has stage and film experience, so they drew on both. Also, on a sheerly practical level, it most likely would have been impossible to assemble this particular group of actors for a stage run, due to their schedule demands and other commitments. So while I miss having a live audience, and the thrill that can provide, I’m so grateful that these performances have been captured on film.

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In the monologue The Blonde Cloud in “Coastal Elites,” Issa Rae portrays a former schoolmate of Ivanka, who calls her “Dracula with a blowout!” In your writing (especially in your feed), you focus more attention — more venom and more wit — on Ivanka than Donald. Why? Is there a strategy in that?

Trump has become a hopelessly easy and infuriating target. We know he’s a horrific tyrant. I’ve tried to approach his ongoing damage from an angle. Ivanka, who claims to empower women, has denied all of her father’s sexual assaults, and when asked about his war on women’s reproductive freedom, she smiles brightly, and refuses to answer, claiming such matters aren’t in her “portfolio.” She, along with her family members, have wholeheartedly supported Trump’s bigotry, lies and his many other crimes.

Ivanka has tried to remain in an untouchable bubble, which is insulting to all Americans. She’s constantly retweeting praise for herself, along with hopelessly privileged and out-of-touch advice: in the early days of the pandemic, she posted photos of herself making pillow forts with her kids at her Washington estate, and flew private to her family’s resorts. None of this is okay and a lot of it is ripe for satire. In Coastal Elites, I examined this situation through a character who’s every bit as rich and powerful as Ivanka, but her moral opposite. The brilliant Issa Rae plays Callie, who attended boarding school with Ivanka, but who’s been raised with a sense of responsibility and service. Their reunion, at the White House, raises the stakes for everyone involved.

The five monologues of “Coastal Elites” each seem to represent different aspects of the new abnormal. Which are you most hopeful about?

I can be as anxious and pessimistic as anyone, but this can be self-defeating. I’ve been inspired by the millions of people, all over the world, who are figuring out work, family, love and basic survival right now. One of the Coastal Elite characters is a young nurse from Wyoming, superbly played by Kaitlyn Dever, who comes to New York to volunteer as a frontline worker, The courage of doctors, nurses and healthcare workers remains astonishing. Even in the early days, without any protective equipment, they worked around the clock, providing care and whenever possible, saving lives. This degree of sacrifice is both staggering and hopeful; these workers are an inspiration to all of us.

In addition, I wanted Coastal Elites to be a tribute to the sense of humor that’s helping everyone cope. Bette Midler plays Miriam, a public school teacher and hardcore New York liberal who’s very much a tribute to my Mom and her sisters. Their passion and wisecracks always gave me hope, and I see their spirit in so many people. Bette Midler herself gives me hope: she’s a legendary performer whose tweets are hilarious and outrageously committed to changing the world for the better. Theater artists always give me hope. No one pursues theater to make a fortune or have an easy life. People work in the theater because they can’t imagine doing anything else. The pandemic has made theater almost impossible, but the theater community has stayed in constant touch, Theater people don’t give up, and that’s hope itself.

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Paul Rudnick On Coastal Elites, Trash-Tweeting Ivanka, and How Bette Midler and Theater Give Him Hope You're getting attention for "Coastal Elites," which was supposed to be a play at the Public Theater, but launches as a film on HBO September 12th, starring Bette Midler, Kaitlyn Dever, Dan Levy, Sarah Paulson, and Issa Rae in five separate monologues about coping with the new abnormal.

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karenstensgaard · 6 years

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Last weekend, I braved the mobs, so you don’t have to! I spent a full day at D.C.’s convention center standing in line and squeezed into seats. I attended what may be the biggest free to the public book festival hosted by the Library of Congress.

According to the Library of Congress, their 18th annual festival included a diverse lineup of 115 authors featuring U.S. Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor, eminent historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, acclaimed novelist Amy Tan, former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, U.S. Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith, and two-time Newbery Medal winner Kate DiCamillo. As usual, I took another route with detours right from the start.

Entering the grand hall when the crowds were more manageable!

On my way to hear Dave Eggers, I could tell the crowd was growing and saw a panel on Spywork and John le Carré. The title sounded mysterious, and since my next novel will include some espionage, I ducked in to get a seat. John le Carré (real name: David Cornwall) wasn’t there. Authors David Ignatius (The Quantum Spy), Joseph Kanon (Defectors), and Adam Sisman (John le Carré: The Biography) with Pulitzer Prize-winning author and moderator for the panel, Kai Bird (American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer) chatted about le Carré spy stories and his influences on storytelling.

Afterward, I hustled down three escalators and over to the Fiction room to hear Jeffrey Eugenides (well-known author of The Virgin Suicides) and a new book, Fresh Complaint. After waiting over 20 minutes, we were complaining. Since he was running late, the event was canceled.

With time to kill, I slipped across the hall and heard the second half of murder mystery and spy novelist Hank Phillippi Ryan’s update on her new book, Trust Me. She encouraged fellow career changers doing this later in life. She didn’t start her writing career until she was in her 50’s. My husband asked me if Hank was a man. Her real name is Harriet, and Hank was a nickname from college. She has a definite edge since statistics say men writers sell more. Just look at J.K. Rowling: her new books are penned by Robert, not Roberta, Galbraith. A sad fact, since Joanne, of all writers, can afford to be a woman!

At the book fest, authors were grouped mainly by topic or type of book (history & biography, main stage aka big names, teens, poetry & prose, understanding our world – a catch-all mix, fiction, and genre fiction. A few I didn’t check out – two children stages, and a Library of Congress Hall. Each author or group had an hour to discuss their book with an interviewer and a few minutes for Q&A.

On the right, interviews for TV channels were conducted later:

I met my husband for a book discussion by David Ignatius for his spy thriller, The Quantum Spy, about the Chinese ruling the world via computer. David was part of my first lecture on Spywork. Besides being a novelist, he is a journalist and writes a column for the Washington Post. He might have noticed me if he’d learned from his characters. Spies supposedly watch their surroundings closely. But with the packed crowd, I blended in and was undetected. But just wait for my run-in with Security!

After another wait for lunch, I returned to the Fiction salon to hear Andrew Sean Greer talk about his novel Less. Less really means More since he won the Pulitzer Prize with his edgy modern travel love story. Congrats! And the award couldn’t go to a nicer guy. Andrew came across as laid back and friendly joking with the crowd. When he found out one of his teachers was in the crowd, he didn’t hesitate to get to the edge of the stage to hug her.

Now my plan fell apart, and I almost pitched my free book tote bag in disgust. I had hurried across what seemed like miles of convention room carpeting while dodging attendees who are either are from the UK or prefer walking on the wrong side of the hallways. I followed the signs to Room 146, but somehow, I’d left, without leaving the building, and had to ask a security guard for help.

After another delay with another security check and backtracking, I found one of the hundred plus Ask Me volunteers lingering everywhere. She pointed out the best route to the elusive Room 146. But when I arrived, many others had too, and a large line snaked around the corridor.

Here’s why. Room 146 had a captivating title: Understanding Our World. So necessary anytime, but perhaps mission critical if you live in DC. I knew I wouldn’t hear any of the Conversation: Americas Great Struggle for Racial Equality featuring Brooks D. Simpson and Isabel Wilkerson. But it was the next event that was on the top of my wishlist: Conversation: Sea Creatures.

What would the authors share with us on behalf of these creatures from the ocean and 70% of planet earth‽ (The ‽, a question-explanation mark combo called an interrobang, is official and grammatically correct. I couldn’t resist using an interrobang for the first time in such a deserving situation.)

The sea creature conversation included an interview with Sy Montgomery, the author of a book I loved: The Soul of an Octopus: A Surprising Exploration into the Wonder of Consciousness. Who knew octopi have such personalities and are as smart as a whip‽Times eight, of course. Sy has a new book: Tamed and Untamed Close Encounters of the Animal Kind. Juli Berwald’s book also sounds fascinating. Spineless: The Science of Jellyfish and the Art of Growing a Backbone.

I hate to admit with these long afternoon lines; I’d lost my can-do festive mood. Instead, I found a seat and watched the long line hover and grow resembling the long leg of you know what. My seat buddy, armed with what looked like an ordinary cane, told me about the good old days in D.C. when it was a two-day event held on the Mall under massive tents. She lamented how much easier it was to see inside and hang around outside the tents if the seats were full. And except for the possibility of rain and mud, or scorching heat and humidity, book lovers managed just fine.

Right next to us, the doors opened for the next session in Poetry & Prose with a short and manageable line. So I went high-brow listening to the panel on Literary Lives with authors Mark Eisner (Neruda: The Poet’s Calling) and Kay Redfield Jamison (Robert Lowell: Setting the River on Fire” A Study of Genius, Mania and Character). Fiona Sampson, the author of In Search of Mary Shelley: The Girl Who Wrote Frankenstein, was ill and couldn’t leave the UK. Her book was of particular interest since Mary Shelley and Frankenstein are in my second still to be published novel.

My sixth and final event was again in the Poetry & Prose room: How Writers Think and Work. So apropos since I’m a novelist. I continually compare notes with the experts. But from what I’ve learned in writing, there are no rules, and if there are, no one agrees. Some renegade writers even urge you to break any you happen to find.

This last discussion included authors Lorrie Moore, See What Can Be Done: Essays, Criticism and Commentary, and Richard Russo, probably best known for his novel and TV show, Empire Falls. His recent book, The Destiny Thief: Essays on Writing, Writers, and Life was another book I had read. Two, out of about 200 new books, isn’t too bad.

The book fest ended for me since I lacked the energy for the last few lectures scheduled elsewhere. Isn’t this blog exhausting? In the Amazon carousel below, I’ve added a link to some of the books by the authors I heard speak, including one from yours truly.

[amazon_link asins=’1521210519,0393254151,0765393077,031631613X,1451697724,1524732486′ template=’ProductCarousel’ store=’karenstensg01-20′ marketplace=’US’ link_id=’128fc14f-b47e-11e8-8899-c9d48c37cf6b’] P.S. If you were hoping to see another library blog, here is a photo of the beautiful Carnegie public library at Mt. Vernon Square across from the convention center. Since it looks like a beautiful spot, when the renovation is done, I’ll be back. And here’s a photo of me with an adorable portable library on the way to H Street behind Union Station and my favorite D.C. restaurant, Ethiopic.

Get an insider's view of Washington D.C.’s 18th Library of Congress National Book Festival. Last weekend, I braved the mobs, so you don’t have to! I spent a full day at D.C.’s convention center standing in line and squeezed into seats.

#Andrew Sean Greer #Book Fest Washington D.C.#David Ignatius #Hank Phillippi Ryan #Library of Congress #Lorrie Moore #National Book Festival #Pulitzer Prize Winner #Richard Russo #Sy Montgomery

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