Curate, connect, and discover
you spend 30 minutes choosing the perfect synonym for “said” only to change it back to “said.”
you google “how long does it take to bleed out” at 3 a.m. and now the FBI is probably watching you.
you write one sentence, stare at it, rewrite it 14 times, and somehow end up back at the original version.
“this scene is so important” but you have no idea what the scene actually is or why it’s important.
you come up with the best story ideas… in the shower… with no way to write them down.
your characters feel like real people but also you’re like “who are these guys and what do they want from me?”
your brain says “start writing!” but instead you reorganize your desk, reread your notes, and spend two hours naming a side character who shows up once.
you’ve cried over your WIP exactly 67 times and will do it again because the pain is the point.
you reread something you wrote and think, “wow, did i peak as a writer three months ago?”
every writing session begins with the sacred ritual of scrolling social media, opening unnecessary tabs, and procrastinating until panic sets in.
you have no idea how long a chapter should be, so you just… vibe.
you can’t watch tv or movies without mentally critiquing the plot, dialogue, and pacing.
your writing playlist is 98% vibes, 2% songs you’ll actually listen to while writing.
you keep a “murder notebook” but swear it’s not suspicious because it’s for your novel (probably).
the phrase “just one more draft” is your eternal mantra, even though you’ve rewritten this thing more times than you can count.
Viktor and Jayce had passed by many stalls in this small market. They had already collected their groceries for the day and were now just perusing around one more time before they headed back home. As they walked by one after the other, there was a table displaying a variety of tools and hammers gleaming against the sunlight, catching the eye of the former forger. Jayce lingered at the table a little longer, slowing his pace and seeing each one with different designs on their handles and heads. He could feel the excitement bubbling up inside him in seeing all the equipment, tools that he was used to working with back in Piltover and he couldn’t help but feel a big sense of remembrance, like an artist finding new paintbrushes.
Jayce looked over at Viktor who was looking around at the neighboring stall, and cleared his throat to get his attention.
Hearing the other, Viktor would turn his head towards him just as he was inspecting a blue ceramic bowl. He’d raise an eyebrow and nod in acknowledgment to the other.
Jayce motioned his head towards the display, “Do you think we can buy one?” He’d ask.
Viktor looked down at the table seeing the multiple sets of tools that Jayce hoped to purchase, he couldn’t help himself from making a soft scoff in amusement. To him, it was like seeing a child ask for a shiny new toy. “Are you asking for my permission?” Viktor grinned with a sense of endearment and playfulness at the way Jayce tried to hide the excitement over the items.
Jayce felt his face go red from the way Viktor phrased that, he’d awkwardly scratch the back of his neck and tried his best to look neutral.
“No… I’m not asking for permission I’m just… asking for your opinion on getting one….”
Viktor kept his grin and turned his head back to the ceramic bowl he was holding, running his fingers over the inner surface “Pick a set you like.”
Seeing Viktor’s small smile and hearing his words made his heart skip a bit... it took him a few moments as he tried to focus on the choice of set he wanted to take home.