I write a lot. All the time. If not fanfic, then original stuff. I have a dozen story ideas at any given moment and I’m not always dedicated enough to follow through with them. Sometimes they’re only interesting for a hot minute.
I think I might just start posting random excerpts of stuff that will probably never go anywhere. Maybe once a week or so, make this my writing platform if I remember.
This one was a cryptid story. Not really anything romantic, though relationships were a part of the overall plot and do help start some of the central conflict. It was more likely to go down the horror pipeline and get good and gory. Didn’t end up liking the chapters I did write, though. I think I changed the character names a dozen times. They still seem like placeholders to me.
CW: relationship drama/conflict
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Standing outside the door of the modular home in the mid-morning sun, Nate felt a wave of nausea roll through him. He reached for the door handle, jiggling it, drawing away as if burned when he realized it was locked. Then he turned himself around and walked quickly back down the porch steps. The scruffy, brown patch of sod that served as a lawn crunched under his booted feet. He kicked at a mound of dirt someone had randomly dumped there and rubbed nervously at his shoulder, sighing.
In all his twenty-three years, Nathaniel Thibault, Nate for short, had never been good with goodbyes.
As he stood looking out at the sprawl of the moudlar community, he weighed his options. Brad, his boyfriend of the last three years, was leaving the small town of Trois and heading to the United States in just a week. Los Angeles, California, to be more specific. Nate would not be joining him. In fact, Nate, born and raised in Trois, had never been far outside his Canadian hometown, and didn’t have much desire to travel. He was comfortable here among the dense trees and the encroaching presence of underbrush. He didn’t need big city living, unless he was DJ’ing a gig, with all the skyscrapers, congestion and pollution they had. He was much happier among the natural world. Which, considering his heritage, wasn’t that surprising.
Still, he knew that wasn’t the life for Brad, that Brad longed for culture and opportunities much richer than Trois could give him. And he respected that. They had discussed their future desires at great length, on cold mornings while tucked in bed under thick duvets. Almost always Brad got that far away look in his eyes when he talked about seeing the states, or Europe. And Nate knew he couldn’t compete. In the deepest chambers of his heart, he knew that he would lose Brad some day to wanderlust.
And now that day had come.
When Nate turned back to the trailer, intent on giving the door a second try, it was cracked open. Standing in the doorway in just a pair of jeans and a tank top was Brad. His tall frame almost brushed the top of the door jamb. Upon seeing Nate, he opened the door wider.
“Thought I heard someone out here,” he said, then canted his head, much like the creature whose blood ran through his veins. “Come on in. I have a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”
The nausea tossed in Nate’s stomach like the sea. He nodded anyway and climbed the stairs, not being able to stop himself from giving Brad a sniff as he passed him. The other man smelled like the wilderness. Fresh pine and musky fur and earth. It was comforting, at least to Nate. He moved into the kitchen and took a seat on a stool at the breakfast bar. Brad closed the door and retrieved two mugs from an overhead cabinet. One said I 🍁 Canada on it. The other had an image of a labrador retriever hunting water fowl.
“You’re here earlier than I expected,” Brad said, pouring the coffee up to the rim of the Canada mug. Nate liked his coffee black, and Brad knew it. For his own cup, Brad left room for an ample amount of cream and sugar. “We were supposed to meet for lunch, not breakfast.”
“I know,” Nate said, drawing his mug close. “I couldn’t wait that long.”
“That eager to discuss our soon-to-be long distance status?”
As he sipped his coffee, Nate winced, and not just because of the bitter contents of the mug.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about, actually.” With a slump of his shoulders Nate set his mug down. “I’m not sure that it’s going to work out, this long distance thing.”
Brad, who’d been moving to sit down opposite his boyfriend, stopped in his tracks. Carefully, he set his mug down on the breakfast bar and placed his hands on its ledge.“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, you’ll be in LA and I’ll be stuck here, and I’m sure after a while that’s going to get old. You’re going to meet other people and want to date them.”
“No way.” Adamant, Brad leaned in closer to Nate. “I would never do that to you, unless we both agreed to it. I care about you more than anything. How can you sit there and say that so casually?”
“I can say it because it’s the truth. You know it. I know it. The only one willing to face it here is me, though.”
“Are you even listening to yourself?”
For a long time, Brad stared at Nate. Nate could feel his gorge rising, that feeling of sickness creeping up even higher in his throat. He turned his head and eyed the bathroom door hanging ajar, debating if he could keep himself from getting sick.
“I am,” he said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. “I’ve thought it over a lot these past weeks. I don’t want to hold you back.”
“You’re not holding me back. Hell, I’m just going there to test the waters for a month or so, see if it’s my scene or not. I plan to come back either way.”
“But what if you end up liking it? What if you decide to move there? I don’t want to live in LA. I don’t even want to live outside Trois.”
Heaving a sigh, Brad let go of the ledge and put his face in his hands, scrubbing at it. “Of course I know that. And I know that trying to convince you otherwise is just plain crazy. But I was hoping….” He trailed off, letting his arms flop back down to his sides. “You’re so damn stubborn sometimes.”
“Probably why I’m the last of a dying clan. I’m surviving out of pure spite and stubborness.”
“So, we’re really doing this? We’re really breaking up now?”
Drinking deeply from his mug, Nate looked down at the counter top, contemplating its cracking surface. He felt a familiar pressure in his jaws and recognized that his emotions were starting to get the better of him. He tamped down a growl, his head bobbing.
“I just feel one of us will end up getting hurt worse if we don’t,” he said.
“Or you’re afraid of change.” With a scoff, Brad turned his back on Nate. “Since we’re not mincing words here, let’s call this like it is.”
“That’s not fair. I’m just trying to see a future where we settle down together and are happy that way. And I can’t see it with the way things are right now. You’re always going to have your restlessness, and I’m always going to have ties to Trois that can’t be broken.”
“And you’re just starting to see this now, after three years with me? How long have you been keeping these thoughts to yourself?”
“Calm down. They’re only recent. Only since you started getting recognition and were thinking about pulling up roots.”
“See, that’s the problem,” Brad pointed out, turning back around. He walked into the conjoined living room, flopping down in his favorite armchair. “You always talk about having all these roots, all these connections. To Trois, of all places. You haven’t even seen the rest of the world. You don’t know if this is the right path you’re walking. It’s not like you have to live like our ancestors did, tied to the place they were born.”
“Maybe you don’t,” Nate said, sounding wary. “You have an entire pack of siblings. They’re all capable of handling the family legacies. I don’t have that luxury.”
Brad rubbed at the stubble on his face. From his perch, Nate watched him, his memories taking him back to the times he had run his fingers over that rough and bumpy surface, the electric pulse of stimulation beneath his fingertips
“Well, even if you didn’t live here, the lands would still be in your name. Moving away doesn’t change that. Maybe it’s harder to maintain that way, but it’s not like they’ll go anywhere.”
“How long have we’ve been together, and you still don’t know what it’s like to be a Thibault?”
“I know damn well what it’s like. Just as you know what it means to be a Forestier. But isn’t it time we broke tradition and went on our own ways? What do we have to gain from sticking around here? It’s not like we’ll be passing our bloodline down. The loup-garou don’t even really approve of our relationship. They just tolerate it.”
“Tradition is all I have left. And so what if they don’t? It’s not like they can officially do anything about it.”
“And what about if we wanted to get married? They’d never sanction it. We’d be outcasts at best.”
“Do we really need marriage?”
Brad went quiet. He looked down at the carpet. When he lifted his gaze again to look at Nate, his expression was emotionless.
“I think the question is: do you really care about me that little?”
Sighing, Nate had to break eye contact. He hadn’t meant to hurt Brad, but his mouth had run off with his deepest thoughts before he could stop it. Maybe that was for the best. He hadn’t had to dance around the truth until Brad drew it out of him, as he always seemed to do eventually. It hadn’t cleared the air. Far from it. But it had moved the painful task of breaking it off with Brad closer, and the sooner Nate was done with that, the sooner he could go home and crawl into his bed, dwelling on what could have been for the next week.
“You should probably leave,” Brad told him, his voice tight. His words took on a slight growl. “Having you here right now is just not a good idea.”
“I’m sorry. This isn’t the way I wanted things to go.”
“Well, it’s the way they went. Please. Just go.”
Shifting off the stool, Nate managed to make it to the modular home’s front door and open it without being tempted to look back. Then he was walking down the porch steps towards his motorcycle. A shiver coursed through him. He paused to tilt his head toward the sky, where the sun was making its slow journey towards its apex. Closing his eyes, he let its rays grace his skin, warming him on the chilly Autumn morning. It was impossible to tell how long he stayed like that, the warmth radiating in the follicles of his hair and the skin at the back of his neck. Eventually, he slid on to the driver’s saddle, sighing as he started up the engine.
As he drove away, he thought he saw the curtain in Brad’s window shift, but he couldn’t be certain.
She really didn’t know what possessed her to even approach Valentina when she spots her sitting on that park bench, looking impossibly younger than how old she really is. Maybe it’s because she can still hear the argument that she witnessed in her head, their raised voices echoing, though Valentina’s voice was louder and clearer, Maybe it was the fact that she has found someone as miserable as her in this new city. She really doesn’t know what made her so drawn to her.
(Later she realizes it was not because of the argument, nor was it the clothes, but it was because of one soul finding the other.)
So she sits and tries to make conversation with her.
When she was rebuffed, she almost gave up, but she did it. She managed to pull a loud, almost raucous, but softer carefree laughter from her.
And she felt weightless at the sound.
It was the first time since arriving in the city that she felt like she wasn’t drowning in her problems, constantly pulling and grasping at any available emotion that wasn’t constantly draining her. It’s been a long month (or year really).
Valentina’s laughter rings in her head, uninhibited and strong that every time she’s reminded of it, her lips curls into a smile, almost without her permission, making her want to hide her face at the almost unfamiliar emotion.
Though the whispers of doubt continue to pull and tear at her every part, occasionally manifesting itself in the form of her mother, of Val’s sister, of Chino, she remembers that first meeting, Valentina’s carefree laughter echoing in her head and she knew that everything was going to be okay.
-*-
She feels nervous
Or is it giddy?
It wasn’t that bad nervous feeling, there was no dread in the fringes of it, but the good kind where you know that this nervous feeling is dragging along something that will change your life for the better.
She made a new friend!
She doesn’t remember if she felt this giddiness when her relationship with Lucho was in its’ beginnings. She must not have as this experience was quite new to her. This was the first time she felt this giddiness. How it takes over her body, temporarily dispelling the feeling of grief of her father’s death. It was as if just the mere presence of Juliana just brings this lightness and warmth that Val craves.
Juliana was this new shiny person that doesn’t blink twice in the presence of money and wealth or at tackling the intricacies of Val’s problems. In fact, it seemed like Juliana was there willing to listen to her, to grieve with her, but to also tug her out when that sinking feeling of sorrow pulls her down again.
So she looks for ways to see her. With drivers at her service, it was really was easy to fulfill this craving of hers.
She felt this butterfly’s-wing-flapping-stomach-tightening-heart-skipping giddiness when Juliana had tugged her to that dance class in the park and taught her how to dance.
She tried to follow the steps, she really did. But her awkward limbs and less than coordinated movements made her step back (out of fear for the safety of the other dancers and to save herself some embarrassment, really).
And the fact that she couldn’t tear her eyes from Juliana’s form as she effortlessly mimics the dance instructor.
Later when Juliana pulls her aside, after spotting her watching from the sidelines like a creep, to teach her how to dance, her hands confidently guiding Val’s to the correct positions on her body, the stomach-wringing nervousness came back. The simple body contact made the butterflies that’s built a home in her stomach beat their wings harder.
Though to others that might be a bother, to Val, it felt good to feel something other than the overwhelming crashes of grief that seem to come in waves.
(Later she realized that the giddiness has turned into a full-blown crush, a less than shocking, but fear-inducing realization, nonetheless).
She doesn’t understand why she seems to crave this giddiness that Juliana brings, and at this point she did not want to understand. Just that Juliana’s light had brought her true happiness and her presence had driven off the darkness that seemed to encapsulate Valentina’s day-to-day.
I just had the worst Turnitin nightmare I have ever had in the years that I have been using it.
Ok, so...before I begin, I just wanna let you know that I am still emotional about this whole thing and I still feel like punching a hole through the wall. However, I now feel calm enough to actually rant about this, hoping that I am not alone. Sorry in advance for the lengthy-ass post. Ok...here we go...
Turnitin sucks. Anyone who has ever used it knows this for a fact. I’ve definitely been through that situation where according to Turnitin, your paper was plagiarized, even though it wasn’t, because for some goddamn reason it does not know what a fucking citation is, or perhaps it claims that something as simple as your name was plagiarized. Thankfully, I’ve never reached that so called “danger zone” where if your paper is a certain percentage plagiarized (according to Turnitin) you get castigated for it. However, earlier tonight I experienced something that, in my opinion, is worse: Turnitin lagged on me.
“What??? Turnitin goes through technical difficulties?” You better goddamn believe it. Idk if this has ever happened to anyone else where you’re trying to submit something and Turnitin decided to be a total dickhole and be slow af. This has happened to me twice before and thankfully things have always worked out in the end, except tonight. Tonight, Turnitin lagged so damn much that I was not able to turn my paper in.
I was on time; I submitted it early enough that I knew that I was gonna make it. However, Turnitin was going through so much difficulty that me being early didn’t matter at all. At first, I thought that the problem was on my end. Maybe my Internet was slow, maybe my laptop, maybe my browser...Nope! Checked everything that I could possibly check and everything was running smoothly...except for, once again for the people in the back, Turnitin. It was unbelievably slow. Like, “holy shit wtf is going on” kind of slow. I tried to be as calm as possible, but then it happened...
I finally got to the page where you submit your file and did all the things that I needed to do. I uploaded my paper, gave it a title, made sure I had everything done...then I clicked “Submit.” What happened next? Did it submit? No. It lagged. It basically froze and stayed that way for several minutes. I waited and waited and waited...checked to see what I can do...increasingly getting panicky...and by the time it started working again...it was my due time. I frantically tried submitting my paper, hoping that it will take it even though it is literally due already, thinking that as long as it does not go a minute past the due time it’s still good, but I was unfortunately unsuccessful. I stared at the screen, tears welling up in my eyes, cursing the website that I’ve hated since high school.
I emailed my paper to my professor, even though he clearly stated that he will not take email or paper submissions, and also sent in a support ticket on Turnitin’s website, explaining what happened and hoping that someone out there will understand, but I still have not received a reply from either one.
So...what exactly am I trying to do here? I guess I just needed to rant. Also, I wanted to let everyone know that Turnitin truly sucks. I have always HATED turning stuff in, and really, doing schoolwork, online because, well, it’s online. Things can go wrong. Systems can crash, lag, etc., and when they do, how do you explain that to your instructor? Do you think they’ll believe it? Probably not. And that’s what I guess I’m trying to get at. Turnitin sucks for a number of reasons, and yet teachers still use it. I mean, I guess it’s great in that it checks for plagiarism, but other than that it’s God-awful. If teachers really wanna use it, fine, just don’t make it the only way to submit work. Use it to check for plagiarism, and that’s it.
I’m not saying this solely because it happened to me, but because I don’t want it to happen to anybody else. There’s nothing worse than getting admonished for something you did not have any control over. It truly is one of the worst things ever. Hopefully, something changes and either Turnitin updates their system and shit, or teachers realize that Turnitin is not as amazing as it is thought to be.
