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twiddle-dee-twiddle-dumb · 3 years

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A/N - I was bored in the office. There’s nothing much to do and an idea for ficlets, drabbles for Haikyuu Boys came into my mind. So here it goes…

WAS SUPPOSED TO ADD USHIJIMA HERE BUT I'M ALREADY TOO SPENT. HAHAHAHAUHSHSHAJSSAJSJK (TT-----TT)

HAIKYU! BOYS & S/O ARGUED BEFORE AN IMPORTANT EVENT

Toru Oikawa

Warning: slightly suggestive (???); jealousy, jealousy; provocation

It's something petty, honestly. It's just because you didn't hear what he was trying to say since you are busy making dinner in the kitchen. And that you made him repeat what he said three times. THREE TIMES. That is enough to make Toru feel neglected. You knew that there's a change in his demeanor so you apologized but he ignored you all through out the dinner. He's stubborn and you knew better than to push further. You both went to bed not speaking to each other. I mean, Oikawa not speaking to you.

The next morning, hours before the event, he went to work early. He just left a note on the fridge. "I'll go to the party. I brought my party clothes in the office. Attend if you want to." you crumpled the piece of paper you're holding and you're gritting through your teeth. You are seething with anger that Toru chose war—he chose to prolong this petty drama, so be it.

It's time to change the plans. He already knows what you're gonna wear. Well, since it has come to this point, you decide to go to an emergency shopping. You bought a red open back dress with a low neckline paired with a white gold chandelier earrings and chandelier choker necklace. Show-stopping, attention-grabbing like he wanted.

You drove to the venue, not informing your husband that you're gonna dang see him at the party. You arrived earlier than him. You greeted everyone you know at the party. They were complimenting you, men and women alike. However, people can't help but ask where your husband is. "He is still quite occupied but he'll arrive shortly." is what you tell them and try to swerve the point of the conversation to them.

Not moments later, Oikawa entered the scene as pointed out by someone in your circle. You see him greet everybody who comes in his way. Looking at him right now, he's still as popular and handsome as before (too bad, he's being a real bitch to you). You turned back you attention to your social circle before he could see you looking at him.

It was not that long when you felt a scorching gaze from across the room. You feigned indifference. You knew who it was. Your phone kept on buzzing. Taking your phone out of your purse, you checked who it was thinking it was an emergency at home or your parents' house. It was just Toru—bombarding you with messages and missed calls. Trying to get my attention I see, you thought. You glanced at his direction, for mere seconds, before turning your attention to back to your phone. With no intention to reply, you returned your phone back inside the pouch. Two can play this game.

Until you caught a whiff of his cologne and felt something being placed on your shoulders, covering your back. You eyed him, expression unreadable. "I'm afraid we're going to go home early, sweetheart.", he whispered in your ear as you feel the pressure of his grip on your side.

"So, we're talking now?", raising an eyebrow, you can't help but retort, pushing his buttons even more, even though you know that you're going to pay the consequences for the rest of the night.

Tetsurou Kuroo

Warning: suggestive; provocation; innuendos

Kuroo informed you that the company anniversary is coming up and he's bringing you along for the party. The day before the event, you decided to go to the dresser to get your hair done. It was going well until the dresser made a mistake which resulted to your hair a tad shorter that it was. The dresser apologized profusely. The poor girl was nearly in tears. You just laughed it off, reassuring her that it's fine. Not really making a big deal out of the nagging feeling that your husband might react. Oh please, hair grows back. Plus, it doesn't look bad. You looked more glowing so maybe that mistake isn't bad after all.

When you got home, Kuroo was acting weird. He kept on glancing at you like you're someone unfamiliar. When he saw you at the door, he just stared at you with his brows furrowed. When you were eating dinner, he was awfully quiet. Usually, he would tell you about his day at the office but to day, he's painstakingly silent.

"Babe, is there something wrong?" you asked again for the umpteenth time. Because clearly, something's wrong. He just evades or refuses to answer. But, this time, you pressed further. "Come on, tell me."

"Your hair!" he answered, voice slightly higher than the usual with a slight anger undertone. Of course, you we're expecting some reaction but not like this. You were surprised. You know how much he adored your long hair. You were even more surprised that he's noticed. Oh my dork, baby.

"Well, the dresser kind of made a mistake so we end up cutting it." you reasoned which he responded with a grunt. He's really sulky about this. "I apologize for the accident. But love, it's just four inches long and it's going to grow back in time."

"NO." he said. you gawked at him. Shocked at his response.

"Ruru, you're being a baby about this."

He proceeded to ignore you. He isn't usually like this. Most of the times he listens to actual reasons. You just shrugged it off, thinking that he'll come back around in the morning.

Oh boy, he's still that sulky little kid with a cold reception. He ate the breakfast you made him though but he went to work in haste. Guess, you really need to do something to rectify your situation as you start to get annoyed. He's smart but he's acting like a dummy right now. It's just hair and he perfectly knows that hair grows back.

It's only hours before the event, you're rummaging your closet for something to wear. You settled with a salmon pink pantsuit with a white chiffon string strap as an innerwear. you brought out your cream faux leather block heel sandals. You also laid out all the accessories you want to wear for this event.

You start prepping up for the event. "Testu, babe. I'll be a bit late.", you texted him but this motherfucking child had the guts to purposely leave you on read.

You put your hair in a messy half bun adorned with cute pearl accent hairpins whilst curling the remaining hair into soft waves. (Makes your hair a bit shorter, heh.) You're going for the Smokey eye look and those cat eyeliner is popping. you put on the accessories. you even wore ear cuffs for some additional swag.

All satisfied with your vibe, you took a cab to the company. When you arrived, you were greeted by the people you know while they ushered you to where your husband is. When you arrived at the table, he still hasn't spoken a word. Trying not to get the silent treatment under your skin, you excused your self to socialize with the people you know. As you kept on chitchatting with them, someone pointed out that your husband is sending weird glares to your direction. You told told them to pay him no mind.

You occasionally push your hair behind your ear or play with your hair like subtle flips while laughing with your friends. Partly provoking, trying to get Kuroo to look at the angle of your jaw and neck with your new hairdo. You got compliments because of your more fresh and glowing look.

Your phone kept on vibrating in your pocket. It was Kuroo. Ranting about what you're doing. You can't help but play with fire so you replied only with "Oh, so now we're talking?" inwardly smirking, you think you had the upper hand.

"Party's over. We're going home. There are things we needed to discuss." he replied back. Not long before a hand touched your lower back and the voice you badly want to hear was murmuring excuses and goodbyes to the people at the party while casually leading you to exit.

Oh sweet, you've never been more excited to go home than tonight.

#hq oikawa #hq kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu time skip #haikyuu fic #kuroo testuro #oikawa toru #hq fluff #ficlet #drabble #short fiction #i just wrote this out on a whim

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elvendara · 3 years

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Sugar and Spice Day 3

July 14th

Rock concert (Rockstar/Fan)

“Five minutes till curtains up!” the man ran backstage shouting over the din. Saeran expected a knock on his door shortly and sure enough, it came. Without waiting for an answer, the man opened the door to let him know the time limit. Saeran locked eyes with him through the mirror and nodded.

Once the door was again closed, he stared at himself. He’d long ago bleached his hair white to differentiate himself from his twin. Saeyoung worked in the shadows, it wouldn’t do to have a famous brother who looked exactly like him. He also utilized colored lenses. It served two purposes, he didn’t need to wear glasses, in fact, his fans didn’t even know he needed them, and the mint green was a stark contrast to his regular, amber-colored eyes. The pink tips were a more recent addition, but he liked them.

Black eyeliner was expertly applied, years of practice making it almost effortless. He took a sponge and smudged it, giving himself that perfect edgy look. The earrings were already in, silver crosses dangling on each side of his face. Ironic really, considering he didn’t believe in God. The thick black silver studded collar was snuggly around his neck as was the matching cuff around his right wrist. He stood and grabbed his leather jacket, sliding it on and glancing into the full-length mirror he had been given in his dressing room. He was comfortable in this persona. The music had been a way for him to deal with his life. Writing down his anger, confusion, and loneliness was a way to get it out of him. It became bigger than him pretty quickly and he found that hiding behind rock stardom meant he didn’t have to answer any real questions about his true self. It worked. Except it kept him lonely and alone. He’d come to terms with spending the rest of his life that way. It was easier than imagining being real with someone. Who could ever love the real him anyway?

He smirked at his reflection as he laced up his biker boots. Time to bring the house down!

He was soaked in sweat but didn’t feel tired. In fact, he felt invigorated, like every time he finished a concert. Feeding off the audience was one of the biggest perks to his career. Someone handed him a towel and he wiped his face with it.

“Great show Saeran!” one of the concert coordinators told him. She held a tablet to her chest and had a handful of fans behind her. Five doe eyed girls and one shy looking boy. Well, now that he looked closer, he was definitely a man, close to his own age. He looked sheepish being with the teenaged groupies. “These are the VIP’s for tonight’s afterparty. Thought I’d introduce you before you change.”

“Nice! Great to meet you, I’m glad we’ll be hanging out tonight. Hope you have a good time. Congrats on winning the backstage passes.” He regurgitated. There wasn’t always an afterparty but there were some special guests, rich, who had paid for the whole thing, so he’d been pressed to oblige them with an appearance. He hated the politics of being famous, but he did love his fans. It was because of them that he could enjoy what he did. If it was up to him, he’d fill the party with fans and not rich entitled groupies. He knew he would spend the night fending off offers to ‘get to know each other better’ all night.

“Oh my GOD! It’s really you!”

“Wow! You’re so HOT!”

“Ahhh, my friends are never gonna believe this!”

The girls were just cookie cutter versions of every other girl he’d seen. He couldn’t blame them; it’s how they sold his image. The man looked embarrassed; he wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He took the chance to check him out. He appeared to be a tad shorter than himself, with blond hair and pink clips holding back his bangs. He wore one of his concert shirts and tight-fitting skinny jeans. His nails were painted alternating pink and black with the black ones having his band’s logo on it, a mint green eye. So he really was a fan. Cute too.

“Uh, well, like the lady said, I have to go get changed for the party, I’ll see you all there. And be sure to grab your swag bags before you leave, don’t let them rip you off there! There’s a CD with a snippet of some of our new songs.” He winked and walked off. There was a lot of oohing and ahhing as he left.

He took a quick shower and dressed in a ripped black T-shirt, black jeans and his biker boots, putting all his accessories back on and reapplying his eyeliner. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked out to the convention center next to the arena. Of course he wasn’t alone, he had security that surrounded him and paparazzi snapping pics as he made his way to the party. They screamed questions at him that he didn’t answer, he smirked, the signature look the media had come to know him by. Surrounded by so many yet feeling so alone. Making it next door took longer than it should have because of the circus around him, but make it he did.

Once he was inside he was taken by the arm by the coordinator who had introduced him to the fans, he couldn’t remember her name but she seemed nice enough. At least she didn’t flirt with him like other women did and took her job seriously.

“You’re here, great, first you should go say hi to the Han family, they’re the ones footing the bill for this afterparty, then you can have a few minutes with the fans before talking to some reporters…”

“Whoah.” He stopped in his tracks and could swear she left skid marks with her heels she’d been going so fast. “I want more than just a few minutes with those fans, and who are all these people anyway?” He saw his bandmates and some of the roadies, but everyone else was a stranger.

“Nobody you need to worry about, uh, I’ll see what I can do with the schedule.” She seemed frazzled but clicked away on her tablet while heading off again. He assumed he should follow, so he did.

“Mr. Han, I appreciate you taking the time and effort for this function.” Saeran greeted the elderly man.

“Ah, of course of course, anything for my new bride!” he had his arm around a young woman who was clearly less than half his age. The rumors about C&R’s head were obviously true. Standing on his other side was a tall and elegant man who appeared to wish he was anywhere but here. He’d seen that face plastered on magazines of all sorts. The heir apparent, Director of C&R, Jumin Han. They nodded respectfully at each other, Saeran feeling sorry for the man and having to deal with his father’s escapades, but the old man seemed like a descent sort. After a few minutes of his ‘wife’ fawning all over him, making him feel uncomfortable, the coordinator pulled him away. He was thankful to her for saving him.

She escorted him towards a section in the back, past all the dancing and the loud music, that was closed off. The music was still loud but at least he could hear himself think. In the section the fans sat, eating and drinking snacks on the coffee table. They all stood up and rushed him. Well, the girls did, touching him and giggling. Where were their parents? They didn’t look old enough to be out. They sat him down and pressed against him. The blond man sat to the side in a chair and continued to sip his cola and eat the snacks, sneaking a look now and then. He wished he could just be alone with him and have a conversation. At least he wouldn’t try to crawl on his lap like these girls seemed to want to do. Well, maybe he wouldn’t mind if the blond tried that.

After about 30 minutes, which felt like a lifetime, the coordinator gathered up the girls and took them out. It was past midnight and he guessed he had been right about their age, couldn’t have minors out at all hours of the night. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It felt like they had leached some of his life force out and he was drained.

“I guess that happens all the time to you huh?”

Saeran sat up abruptly, how could he have forgotten about the blond?

“Sorry, I’ll go if you want to be alone.” He stood and Saeran panicked.

“NO!” he stood, banging his knee on the coffee table, sending him on his ass back on the sofa. He grabbed at the knee, eyes scrunched, “Ow ow ow…”

“Let me see.” Suddenly there was a presence by him as the blond sat beside him, his fingers touching his knee. Because of the ripped jeans, it was easy to see his skin in that area. “Doesn’t look so bad, at least you didn’t break the skin. You’ll have a hell of a bruise though.” The blond raised his gaze to Saeran and he finally got to see the full view. Wow, those eyes knocked him out, was that color even natural? Maybe he was wearing amethyst-colored lenses like what he himself wore. His face was kind, a soft pink flush growing across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. It was adorable.

“Ah, that was really stupid of me. But…I’m glad you didn’t leave. We didn’t even get a chance to chat.” Saeran tried to regain his coolness but found he couldn’t seem to be bothered to try and act in front of this man. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“Yoosung. Don’t have to ask yours I guess.” He smiled, lighting up the entire room.

“Yoosung…I like it.”

“Thanks. I…uh…like you. I mean…I…your music…I…I…like your music…and…uh…I”

Saeran laughed and waved off Yoosung’s explanation.

“So you’re a fan huh? And what…a doctor?” he asked, placing his foot on the ground gently, still rubbing his knee.

“Not quite. But I am going to medical school. And yes, a BIG fan!” his eyes got large, as did his smile. “Your songs spoke to me when I was at a really low point. I don’t know, it felt like you knew what I was going through and understood my pain.” The smile faltered as his thoughts went back to those days. Saeran reached out and placed his hand on Yoosung’s, yes, he knew what it was like to be in pain, he could see it in his eyes.

Their eyes met, an understanding passing between them.

#my posts #fic #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #mysme #mystic messenger #Sugar and Spice #Day 3 #July 14th #OK #I know these are supposed to be Saeran as Spice #but damn if he isn't the sweetest baby boi!#He just wants to be loved!

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soobintoyou · 2 years

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I KNOW when kai and taehyun trapped him inside the ball pit thing </3 PD NIMMMMMMM will forever live rent free in my head . IT IS OK we can be each other's motivation 😏 I HAVENT EATEN MUCH this morning i had frosted flakes with bananas inside them i know it sounds .. bUT WE DONT HAVE REGULAR ONES SO . it was good tho 😏 and rn i am eating some strawberry yogurt it's quite Swag AND SOOBIN ALSO ATE he had some eggs with toast in the morning bc i made it for him <3 wHERE WERE YOU THO we missed you <3 WHAT DID YOU EAT TODAY LOVE?

oh em gee fun fact my friend is gonna get me into nct soon 😏😏 i'm gonna listen to some songs tmr sO I WILL LET YOU KNOW !! but if you have any recs lmk too ;) oh wow that's so cool and PLS the jessi interview was so funny like i'd honestly recommend that video for any new moas <3 FROST IS SO GOOD it's one of my top faves actually! taste 😏

sHIT YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE ASKED THAT i'm gonna ramble forever. im making this small text for the sake of layouting okay now it's small wELL i've known about txt for a while since one of my friends is a moa, but i never got into them before and around july i was like hm i should probably give them a listen SO HERE I AM !! soobin was in fact my love at first sight <3 i actually watched a guide on them before i listened to everything bc it's what i tend to do and he was the first introduction and i just KNEW . plus bunnies are like my favorite thing ever and you know he <//3 OMFG I SHALL RECOMMEND YOU SONGS actually lemme send another ask bc this be long already iLL BE BACK

OMG HIS LOTTLE “PD-NIM 😭😭😭” I WAS CRYINGGG. also so sorry for the late reply! i went to a christmas party with my mom and ate a lot of good food there 🤧

oh my goodness like all of NCT or just certain units? my ult in all of kpop is mark lee if i’m being honest like that dude helped me through a lot of stuff 🥲 i could ramble on and on about him. let me know how you like them!!! yes the jessi interview and then that one they did on sbs??? where they were like recording their day and doing fake interviews and stuff (idk if i even explained that well enough). but those two were my favorites of all lol.

please please PLEASE ramble about them bc i wanna know so so much 💗 soobin literally having everyone fall in love with him so easily that’s my boy 🥺

#MEGVAL 💗#sorry my answers seems dry sksks #it’s 1AM and i can’t sleep and i’m so tired but idk #so i’m writing instead #PD NIM OMG I ALMOST FORGOR #HE SOUNDED SO SMALL #MY POOR BABY

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glazelilyy · 3 years

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@quixoticmirror in regards to ur prev ask: i'm okay... i think! just behind my coursework so i'm trying really hard to focus on my work and not dawdle about too much...but indulging in a self insert fic isn't that bad every now and then right :P things are quite chaotic tho lol. finally got around to my first organic chem lab and it goes pretty damn wrong LMAO (albedo pls come help me ?) and i'm struggling but we r gonna pretend i am doin just dandy </3

another ask for fun!: would you rather live in a sea with mermaids or a forest with fairies? also also: i keep rereading your kaeya content over and over because y'know it's.. a huge comfort <3 but one of the ones that DESTROY me every time is the one where kaeya is a cuddlebug and falls apart when you call him gorgeous like. you plucked at all of the heart strings and took me out in one fell swoop like!! that's what makes me tick ! that's what gets my little heart goin !! i love this man and i LOVE soft hcs and like. it's so criminally underrated; idk if you srb your old posts like that but (shakes) that has to be one of my favorites and by god do i think abt it a lot on a hard day O(-< that's ur reminder and cheer of the day!

aww i feel you :( i believe in you eph!! catching up can be hard but you can do it! :) <3 remember to pace yourself and take breaks in between studying to give your mind a rest!! (also you're super right hehe self insert fic indulgence>>>!!!!) ooooh organic chemistry! i'm not a super sciency person (dear god am i NOT a sciency person) but organic chemistry sounds super cool!! (albedooo help eph!!)

oooh interesting!! that's an easy one for me to answer at least: definitely in the sea AS a mermaid >:) i love swimming and the open sea im definitely a mermaid at heart LOL. how about you?

AWW REALLY?? :D hgnghgnhg i'm never too sure about how i characterize the boys i write for (especially kaeya since i'm VERY biased towards him) but i'm always rest assured that people like you like how i write him!!! he's a cuddlebug to me he just wants affection :( (also i agree just,,,anything kaeya <3 he's so special AAA)

YESS!!! he's so swag <3

i don't often srb my old old posts but i think i just might now!! (also the fact that you think about the cuddling headcanons on hard days makes me so incomprehensibly reassured :>>> <3)

sending you lots of love n hugs!! <3 i hope you feel better eph, you have everyone's unconditional support and reassurance!! go stomp on chemistry!! >:D

#sincerely: the stars—☆#from my beloved eph—☆#part 49509654 of luce being soft:#eeeeeeeeeeee im so happy hehe :> <3

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byakuyasdarling · 3 years

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Hello hello!!! Here are some questions :3c

1) Are there any movies/shows you've seen recently that you think your f/o would enjoy watching them together with you?

2) Is there any media you got interested in, took a little break from it and then never came back to? Why? Is there any chance you'll be interested in it again in the future? (Hhh I think I worded this a bit weird, I hope it's understandable ;_;))

3) Can you think of any interactions/dialogue between my s/i and yours? :D Only if you have any ideas, it's oki if not, this is a bonus question XD

I wish you the best!! I hope that you'll feel a bit better soon, if you need to talk, let me know! Sending hugs🫂💗💗!!

Ahh thank you so much for the questions, Flake!! I’d be more than happy to answer these <3 and thank you so much for the wishes, I really appreciate it ^//v//^ I’m sending more hugs to you too 💙💙 you’re so amazing !!

Everything under the cut :)

1. Byakuya may canonically like movies, but I cannot see him enjoying some of the movies it shows I do — lmao.

S/I will try to get him to watch something other than crime documentaries with her though!

I can actually see him liking some of the studio Ghibli movies. They’re incredible works of art — it’s hard to disagree with that. S/I’s favourite is Kiki’s Delivery Service (which was always my favourite as a kid)! Byakuya likes Spirited Away the most; a very popular choice, but it is quite brilliant.

Ghibli movies often have more emotional appeal — but I don’t think that affects his enjoyment of the movie itself, he is more focused on how well made it actually is; he tends to analyse films a lot as he watches, ahahaha. I think he can really like them just because S/I gets so happy about them too, there’s just something that arises in him when she goes and cries in his chest when she’s happy over a character’s final victory. She’s precious to him; she really is. Ahhh,,, and if he brings her closer as he wraps his arm around her as she cries happy tears >///< shsjsjsj malfunction.

When Byakuya hates a movie or tv series she puts on (Pokémon, Merlin, some episodes of Doctor Who, etc.) he tends to just pull out a book and start reading instead. They’ll hold hands though!! Hehehehe, and S/I will kiss his hand a lot as he attempts to keep composure — ahahaha.

2. Yeah I can perfectly understand it! That would be Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil for me!.

SVTFOE is really charming through and through. I love the characters, I love their funny interactions, I love the universe. It’s just really fun. I used to get so invested in all the royal fanchildren and all the lore and effort the creators put into making their characters!

The popularity of fandom activity just dwindled a lot after the rushed Season 4 FINALE. Like — I didn’t mind, I still thought it was good and was satisfied, but I know a lot of people didn’t think the same way (especially because it had undone so much of their AU work, so they just gave up for the most part).

With the fandom dying, I left too. I still like seeing the comics (fan made) for it every now and again though!! I might become invested in it again when I rewatch it next! But I kinda doubt it.

3. Yes!!! S/I has a friend??? Yayyy!!! She doesn’t have any at the start of the Hope’s Peak years since the big scary boyfriend death-glared people away — ahahaha (not like he wants to deprive S/I of social interaction, he’s just very lost on the concept of friends. To him, she’s all he needs).

SO. I think in some posts you said that Frogeru puts metal songs on in the car and she also can’t sing? Well, S/I can’t sing either, therefore, they are the best at karaoke!! If Frogeru likes to sing death metal, I can imagine her and S/I doing a duet, with S/I on guitar. They are UNSTOPPABLE!!! S/I is really gonna let loose B)

I also think S/I and Frogeru would be good at drawing cat people together, ahahaha. S/I can learn from the master herself B) Return of Nyakuya? Return of NYA-kuya. I think S/I would enjoy creating mocks of wanted posters of herself but a cat person — the ultimate FELINE-Y (cause,,, it’s a cat pun on ‘felony’ — hahaha. Not funny? Yep, that’s understandable).

ALSO, I kinda recall you saying the Frogeru and Taka watch documentaries or scary/unusual videos? S/I quite enjoys those too, so if Byakuya’s up to it she’ could drag him over for a cool and swag double date thingie B) S/I will need to tell Byakuya to behave though — that man must hold back his instinct of critiquing everything in front of him to not drag the mood down. Byakuya is annoying when a documentary will talk about something he knows about — he’s still fully privy to annoying everyone with his tangents over how ‘wrong’ their information is and somehow making it personal, djdjdjdjd. S/I will try and shut him up, but it’s not easy, lmao. I can see Taka trying to keep the order and peace of the room as well — considering I always thought he was more positive and tried to uplift everyone! (Not sure if that makes Byakuya worse or not — but I’m sure eventually they’ll find a way to settle him down).

I cannot do dialogue right now for the life of me, but I think Frogeru, S/I, and maybe Sayaka could go down to a coffee shop and have some fun ^//v//^

#Freya Answers | 🎶#ship tag: book lovers ♡#Andreagami

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maxthommusic · 3 years

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Overwatch in 2021

I vividly remember joining the Overwatch beta back in 2016. I was going through a messy break up and was living alone after moving to Los Angeles. My money was running dry and I had to start working a job I didn’t want in order to stay afloat. Yet like a beacon in the night, Overwatch shone its head through the fog showcasing an experience that promoted fellowship, teamwork and raucous good times. After an exhilarating beta, I secured my pre-order and would go on to play Overwatch religiously with a crew for nearly a year -- probably the longest I’ve ever played anything. But when single-player games like Yakuza: 0 and Persona 5 invaded my play space in 2017, finding motivation to continue the Overwatch grind seemed less and less appealing. While Blizzard has certainly outdone itself with world-building and deep lore (the plentiful CG short films after release seemed to beg for an actual film), by design there’s no end-game. Heroes never die. And as I switched to more narrative-heavy titles, I began to think I had my fill of being a Soldier.

Nevertheless, four years later, five years since Overwatch’s launch, I’m right back where I started. I’ve shaken off the dust and am falling in love with Overwatch all over again. The community is pulsating, the gameplay balance is unrivaled, and the additions Blizzard has made are all welcome. Even after taking an extended break from Overwatch, it still manages to reign supreme as the King of multiplayer games. But when games come and go, even without their “15 minutes of fame,” how is it Overwatch is not only the Old Dog, but the Top Dog?

#1: Community. I can’t stress it enough: Overwatch’s focus on teamwork makes playing with friends (or even a random squad) exhilarating. My favorite moments come from calling out which enemies I’m hunting down and seeing my crew follow suit. Coordinating Ultimate Attacks for devastating Team Kills never grows old and the pageantry behind such coordination enriches me with a sense of competitive glory I can’t quite find anywhere else. While you can employ such dynamic strategies in other games, it’s simply not found on the level like it is in Overwatch. I’ve gone away from games like Call of Duty, Battlefield, and even Destiny because I don’t get that same feeling of community.

Blizzard really does everything in its power to make sure you remember that your team is what matters. From the addition of Endorsements, to voting on Player Achievements in the post-game, to even the Play of the Game reels -- everything revolves around highlighting the players around you (and possibly even yourself). Even matchmaking is quick and easy. My gaming crew and I have spent numerous hours playing Apex Legends, COD, Siege, the Division, etc. and Overwatch keeps us gaming the most consistently. There also seems to be the least amount of menu haggling -- when we’re ready to game, we’re in. No going, “Did you get the invite?” “Do I need to send another invite?” All these minor considerations add up to big gains for Overwatch, making it feel like the multiplayer game I spend the most time playing.

#2: Heroes. In my mind, Overwatch has the best heroes. And I don’t mean I love the way they look and feel (though that it is true), but it’s the symbiotic relationship the heroes have with the gameplay that is simply the best I’ve ever witnessed. It’s an amazing feat that Overwatch allows you to develop an edge over your opponent by knowing not only your own skills, but theirs as well. To be great with one character isn’t enough and building your knowledge of every character will end up becoming your greatest asset. It’s an astounding feat to have 32 heroes at your fingertips with all of them remaining in balance. And what’s more is I know all 32 heroes. Because of this I’ve always rejected the idea that anyone is “cheap” and can’t be thwarted, no matter how devious. You simply need to find the foil and be ready to swap characters at will. This constantly evolving strategy forces the best combatants to rotate and understand the entire roster, making Overwatch a stalwart in achieving strategic excellence.

#3: Loot Boxes. Everyone wants to bitch and moan about micro transactions. In my mind, it’s easy to ignore and I’ve always done so. But that doesn’t mean I can’t recognize Overwatch handles it elegantly. Overwatch was probably my first real experience with Loot Boxes, and I remember, even from day one, finding them wildly tantalizing. With so many neat skins, sprays, voice lines, emotes, highlight intros and more to earn, receiving new swag for leveling up was, and continues to be, an exciting part of the Overwatch experience. Providing a seemingly endless array of cosmetics, I can’t help but feel like I’m a rabbit happily chasing his carrot on a stick. Outfitting my favorite characters with bad ass skins and giving them fun emotes is a side pleasure I thoroughly enjoy. Recently, I’ve even committed to getting Golden Weapons. Win enough rounds in Competitive Play and you can buy yourself a golden weapon for your character of choice. Maybe that’s dumb to a lot of people, but I think they make a neat statement about your dedication to the Watch and I’m here for it.

* * �� * * * * * * * * *

5 years later and Overwatch is still a stunning roundhouse kick in the face. There are enough maps to continually find a great rotation, there’s a plethora of characters to always choose from, all presenting their own unique take on their specified Role. Most of all, Overwatch keeps you gaming with friends. If there’s one reason to highlight above all else, it’s that Overwatch has the best gameplay loop out of any online multiplayer I’ve found.

Playing Overwatch in 2021 means I can play a game online with people and feel like my time is respected. At 30 years old, I just want to find matches quickly, know they’re fair and never have to feel like something else got in the way of my enjoyment. Even when the odds aren’t in your favor and your random squad doesn’t want to play like a Team, you can work your hardest to earn those Gold Medals and shoot for a Loot Box by the end of your session. Overwatch is about so much more than defending the payload. And because it insists on having numerous tantalizing systems in place, it also demands your unwavering attention.

#overwatch #critiques #gaming #opinion

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tcheschirewrites · 4 years

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Hey, are you participating in NaNoWriMo? Have you ever? And what was your experience like? I'm considering it but I feel so intimidated because I know I won't be able to commit to it wholeheartedly. Lowering my expectations and pacing myself would seem like the perfect solution but work kills my creative brain cells by the seconds. I wouldn't be surprised if by the end of November I've only written half of page of alien language. Any advice? Also does Nano have to be a new project?

Oh man, Nano. I’m well familiar with Nano, and I’ve participated a few times (to varying degrees of success). This got very long, so I’m putting a cut.

The first time I attempted Nano was in 2006 for my novel Seerking. I had heard about it from a friend who was in an LJRP I was in, and she encouraged me to try it. I was still in high school at the time, and very frankly I did not have the dedication necessary to complete it. I got a lot of worldbuilding complete, but very little writing. I got about two pages of prose, and three notebooks of character and setting history, as well as a fairly detailed outline. I still have all of this.

The second time I attempted was in 2009, for a story that is based heavily on the Iron&Wine song ‘Boy With a Coin’. I got a little bit further, but I got stuck in a few places. I think it’s because my idea was bigger than my life experience, and I also got stuck in a lot of small details. Additionally, my first Word document (where I got about two chapters in?) was destroyed when my laptop’s hard drive just straight gave up on life - I did buck up and rewrite quite a bit, though it didn’t sing quite the same notes, and I have this handwritten copy still. (It’s possible I tried again with this same project the year after? I don’t remember tbvh)

My third attempt was in 2011, about a goverment operative and a faun. This one I got the furthest, and I still have the original handwritten draft and the typed copy. I pantsed this one, 100%. To this day, I still don’t know how this story ends, but I’d love to attempt a rewrite someday.

Then, unfortunately, from around 2012 until Fall of last year, I stopped writing period. I was in a real bad situation, and just didn’t have the energy for anything, let alone a novel. My most recent experience with Nano as an organization was Camp Nano, which is a much looser structure, and it is in May and July. Rather than the hard and fast 50k, you set your own goal when you announce your project.

I can understand your hesitance to participate, honestly. Nano is a beast of a project – to reach the minimum goal of 50k in the 30 allotted days, you have to produce 1667 words of new content every single day. This is approximately 3 pages, maybe a little more – which is a lot when you’re already stressed! And if you miss a day you have to adjust your daily totals for every following day, and the pressure starts to mount! It’s a lot, even if it is only meant to be a neat little challenge (mostly, I’ll cover benefits a bit later).

Now, my recommendations are going to follow two paths: planning, and pantsing. If you are naturally a planner – that is, you like having rough outlines, refined outlines, you like having character data, history, etc – then I recommend you have as much of your novel planned ahead of time before November 1st hits. Whatever notes or files you need to have set aside before you begin writing those first words, have them ready – read over them, refine them, and have them memorized front to back so that you know what your story is meant to be. If you are a natural planner, and you have not done this by today’s date (it’s 30 October where I am), then I do not recommend participating this year because it will stress you the fuck out and you might even make yourself sick.

The other popular option is called pantsing – essentially, you have a rough idea, and you’re flying by the seat of your pants. (This is literally what it is called on the Nano website, by the by – there are badges for it and everything.) If you are a pantser, then I still recommend a little preparation, but of a wildly different degree and type: find your story’s ambiance. If you are a pantser, think about what sparked the idea for your story? Try to put yourself back in the place (emotionally or physically) where you had the most intense version of the idea, and hang onto that feeling with both hands. This is incredibly important, because it will allow you to harken back to that feeling without chasing the high of first being hit by that feeling. If you are a pantser, focus heavily on the feelings you want to evoke with your story, and let your heart guide you.

Now the third option (I know what I said, I lied all right) is if you are a combination planner-pantser; you don’t want to have the rigidity of the outline, but you also like having a little bit of structure, or at least a direction to go in. If you are a combination planner-pantser, I recommend doing very soft preparation for yourself in the week leading up to Nano. So things like building yourself a playlist, maybe doodle what your main looks like in your head, or small details like character names and short dossiers. If you’re able, I recommend coming up with an ending, so you know what the end-goal looks like and you are able to track your story’s completion in your head.

For all three, I would recommend deciding ahead of time how you want to write your novel – are you going to type it up in a word processor (please make so many backups, do not live the heartache that I had to)? Are you going old school and hand writing it? Are you feeling like a boss that day and maybe want to dictate it into an app on your phone? Pick one, and make a dedicated space for your novel. You can mix them up, certainly, but make sure that you are able to consolidate effectively or you’re going to stress yourself out.

Now, you asked whether or not it has to be a “new” project. There are actually a few answers to this, depending on what you mean. Now, if we are to assume that “new” strictly means a brand new, fresh idea that you have just come up with specifically for National Novel Writer’s Month 2020, then the answer is no; it does not. Back in the day, there were a few purists that insisted you had to have a designated project every year, but like most purists, they’re just being assholes about it.

As a matter of fact, it does not even have to be a brand new project that you have not written any words for at all – however, if you do have an idea that you have already written for, you are not permitted to use any of your previous word count toward your goal. This is definitely a no-no. Personally, I’ve tried this, and I found it rough – I liked having the designated project, and I liked the buildup to it.

If you have, though, an idea that you’ve worked over and you are simply ready to start putting words on a page, this, I think, is Nano’s sweet spot.

Now, I know most of this 1000+ answer has been cautioning and reminders that Nano is tough – because, well, it is. It is a huge undertaking, and I feel like every participant has their horror stories to tell about their experience. But I want to reassure you that it isn’t 100% a hard slog to a dreary end; there are so many tools that Nano themselves provide you, as well as user-run communities and workshops, and even some benefits after the fact. These are the things I want to wrap this post up with.

Firstly, no matter how tired or stressed you are, if you register for nanowrimo.org, you’ll begin receiving daily emails from published authors and past participants. These range from silly and tedious, to incredibly comforting. My favorite one, which I cannot remember a lot of specifics from, was from a man who detailed his experience and reassured everyone that the work doesn’t have to be good – it just has to be 50k words. That’s it. You can have typos and errors all over the place, plot holes of all shapes and sizes, and a main character who doesn’t make any sense at all; it doesn’t matter, because the point of the event is simply to finish. Neil Gaiman has also said a time or two that your first draft’s only purpose is to exist. Just get the words out; you can fix them later.

Additionally, when you are completing your profile, you can enter in your location and there are designated forums for participants in your area. In the past, there have been meetups for group-writes and workshops as well, though I imagine they will be more along the lines of Discord calls this year. If you are a social person who needs a pair of eyes to help you work through a scene, Nano’s got your back. They will also send you statistics for your area for the average word count, daily word count, past winners, etcetera. It can sometimes feel like you are very alone during this difficult project, but a lot of these things bring a very human element to the event.

Finally, what comes after you have completed. A lot of these benefits are newer than my time, but I browsed through them when I did my Camp Project. When you complete the goal in the allotted time, you get a neat little badge for your webpage and a printable certificate for the immediate boost of dopamine. But you will also get discounts to some neat shit, like different word processing applications (I got 50% off of Scrivener when I finished Camp), as well as things like The Great Courses, discounts in the swag store, etc. But more than that, there are partnering websites who want to help you on the road to being published. Wattpad is in this group, but I believe also big name publishers (I might have seen Penguin on there at one point) are willing to work with winners to get their works distributed.

All that said, I recommend every writer attempt Nano at least once in their writing career. Even if I personally have not done so stellar in the past, it is a fantastic learning experience for all of the work that goes into producing a novel from start to finish – it forces you to know your limits, and sometimes to overcome them. I don’t think I will be participating this year – I have so many side projects that I want to get done, but I will very likely drop everything to do it next year. I have two novels that are real roughly built up that I could do for this, though, and I would love the dedicated time to spend on them.

#asked and answered jim #red-write-district #writeblr #writing advice #nanowrimo #i'm actually really fond of every nano project i've ever done #even if i didn't finish any of them #i still go back and read them sometimes #and i still have a lot of like plot details in my head for them

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mimiplaysgames · 4 years

Text

A Powerful Enough Dream (Ch. 8)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 4,177

Summary: Aqua traces Terra’s steps to what only seems like a nightmare, wedged into a dream for the future.

Read on AO3

A/N: I will be taking another break from this fic in order to work on my other WIPs, which are each incredibly time consuming, so I apologize! I hope everyone has been staying safe.

~*~*~*~*~

Stones, pt. 2

Seventh Heaven is a mosh pit of uneven stone, its renovated extensions made steady of wood, draped with drabby awnings of well-worn linen. It’s hard to tell if it always stood here and was damaged when Radiant Garden fell, or if it was built after the fact. Either way, it could tip over from one gust of wind.

The front door whines as Aqua steps inside. Wooden chairs are flipped on top of wooden tables, and the booths are empty except for salt shakers. It’s part-restaurant, part-bar, with a space free of clutter for dancing.

“Is anyone here?” Aqua calls out.

Footsteps hurry from the back, and a pretty woman in dark, long hair appears behind the bar.

“We’re not open quite yet,” she says. “Come back in a couple of hours.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Aqua holds her hand to her chest. “I’m not a customer.”

The woman cocks her head. Her smile is pleasant, but her red eyes narrow. “Then, can I help you?”

Aqua clears her throat. “I heard Terra stayed here with someone named Tifa.”

“I am Tifa.” She steps out from behind the bar, her stride confident and gracefully brisk. Her biceps are toned, and her fingers flex with the familiarity of someone who knows how to fight. “And who’s asking?”

Aqua braces herself - she’s not sure if she’s preparing for a punch to the face but it wouldn’t hurt to foresee it. Such protectiveness over Terra from someone he should barely know and yet is close to (and someone this curvy), sends a spike to her chest.

“Aqua,” she says with a tremble to her voice. “I’m Aqua.”

Tifa gasps, her stride slamming into thin air. “He found you,” she whispers. Closing the gap between them, she takes Aqua into a firm embrace - not tight, not suffocating, but motherly: a gentle reassurance that everything in the world will be okay. Aqua can’t help but to be moved to tears. Hugs are something people do. She just forgot.

“Where are these things supposed to go, Teef?” a man’s voice calls out from the back. In his hands is a box of metal spouts with curved ridges meant for pouring liquor. His spiked hair is jet-black, and he has the most familiar bright blue eyes; he’s just taller now, more imposing, less scrawny, but he wears that same goofy smile.

“Zack?”

He looks up and drops the box, steel clamoring and popping in sharp echoes. “Aqua?”

At first, silence thrums between them.

“You haven’t aged a day, either,” he says, mostly to himself. “Something weird’s going on.” He scratches his head, arguing something over in his mind before shrugging it off and coming at her with that indestructible grin. “Whatever. It’s hugging time.”

He yanks her in. Aqua grunts; his hug is like being shoved into a brick wall. It’s his shoulder plates, his muscles, his childish fever of gripping his favorite toy that crushes her ribcage. Terra is just as hard and strong, if not moreso, but he never feels like this. He’s warm, too careful of what he’s holding. Terra is the unseizable fort that promises a quiet night away from the danger. Zack is the tank that rolls over the threat, whooping all the way.

Aqua laughs. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Zack pokes her forehead. “Why did I have to wait twelve years before things got interesting again? I deserve good stories and better drinks.” He looks behind her, toward the entrance. “Where is the ol’ champ?”

Tifa nods. “A celebration is in order. I’ll make him the best steak he’s ever had.”

They’re so expectant, so ready to shower Terra with congrats, that Aqua can’t bring herself to give them the white lie of, He’ll be here soon.

“He’s…” she starts, not looking into their eyes, but in the spaces in between.

The way her voice wavers is truth enough. Zack’s immortal smile dies, and Tifa stares at a lopsided picture on her wall.

Aqua tells them what she can without confusing them: that he’s succumbed to shadow in rescuing her, in a parallel world where only the dark exists. So far, he’s still there.

She tells them that the only reason why she was in that lonely world to begin with was because she lost a terrible fight that warped the fabric of existence. She leaves out any mention of Xehanort or Unversed. In a world of Heartless, these people don’t need to be scared of anything more.

When they ask how quickly they can free him, Aqua says that it’s only a matter of time - it’s just difficult and very dangerous. But if he can do it, so can she.

Zack has helped himself to a booth, leaning back on the tabletop. Tifa stays standing, her eyes hard as gems and her arms tightly crossed like she’s using them as a crutch.

Tifa scoffs when Aqua finishes. “How many child soldiers have to sacrifice themselves before the worlds set themselves straight?” She heads back to the bar.

“Tifa,” Zack calls.

“Terra is too young to suffer that much,” Tifa shoots back. “So is Aqua. So are all of them - you see how young these Keyblade wielders start. Would the same happen to Sora or Riku?” She picks up the box he dropped earlier, twisting spouts onto glass bottles and slamming them back in their place with a loud clunk.

Zack sighs, rubbing his neck.

Aqua has never considered herself a soldier. A knight, certainly, someone gallant and faithful to a calling - not an ant that follows orders. But if she frames her calling as something akin to a general, or a king, then she could see what Tifa is getting at.

“Terra would have done the same whether he was a soldier, a Keyblade wielder, or an ice cream server,” Zack says softly, tossing a weak smile to Aqua.

Aqua sits across from him. She only nods in response.

Zack leans over, elbows on his knees. “I told Terra he looked like a hero. At the time, I couldn’t articulate why. He just seemed like the type.

“After hearing about this, I can say that’s the reason why. It’s not his seriousness or his determination… he just has balls. Even when he’s afraid - and I’m sure he must have been, saving you - he goes for it. No second thoughts. Staring the demon in the face even when he’s getting dragged all the way down.”

It’s not the most eloquent explanation, but Aqua smirks.

“I wanted to be like him one day.” Zack stands up, squats once, and stretches his arms, heading on his way to join Tifa. “I’m going to have to up my game.”

Aqua follows. “You’re a hero now?”

Zack snaps on a huge grin from ear to ear, fists triumphantly on his hips. “Finished work in progress, I’m kicking Heartless to the curb and helping the Radiant Garden cause.” He sits at the bar, not minding how Tifa has ducked under the counter to connect a tube to a spout. “That reminds me.” He brings his hand to his chin, measuring Aqua with his eyes.

Oh. She had hoped he forgot.

“How old are you?” he asks.

Thirty? Aqua sits alongside him. “Eighteen.”

“Then it’s fine.” He waves an arm dismissively. “Now that I’m bona fide… You remember our deal, yeah?”

Aqua tries her hardest not to laugh or blush. She’s relying on using Ven as an excuse this time. “Maybe?”

“One date for hero-hood.” He holds a finger up.

Tifa slams two glasses on the surface of the bar, studying Zack incredulously. “I’m not sure You-Know-Who, and,” she glances at Aqua, “You-Know-Who-Else would like that very much.”

Thank goodness, she’s saved.

“Aerith would love to join us.” Zack shrugs. “I’m not sure on the Who-Else, though.”

Tifa smirks and rolls her eyes. “There’s still packages to be brought here, Hot Stuff.” She gives him keys. “You can try strutting your swag when she’s actually interested.”

“Heroes doing chores,” he protests, dangling the keys in his hand.

“You should have asked Cloud for more munny before he left,” Tifa reminds him.

Zack groans, rolling his shoulders. Before leaving, he places a hand on Aqua’s shoulder. “I meant what I said. About Terra.” He’s serious, and it’s reassuring. “He’ll get through it. He’s made of the best stuff.”

Aqua dams the tears. Coming from someone they’ve all known from a previous lifetime, it matters. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Tifa offers Aqua a warm smile when they’re alone. “That was a close one. You’re too prim for most people I know.”

“E-excuse me?”

“You carry yourself a certain way.” She chuckles, nodding over to the way Aqua fumbles with her hands, properly layered over the other. “You know, Terra had dropped off something here.”

Aqua’s heart skips a beat. “My Keyblade?”

“Mmm, no.” Tifa eyes her curiously. “For you and Ventus. Some fruit from another world. I have it frozen in the back.”

“Oh.” She takes a moment to let the disappointment roll off, and focuses on the thoughtful gesture. “I’ll wait to have it - at least until Ven is with me.”

“Fair enough.” But as Tifa grabs a rag to start cleaning, she doesn’t follow through. Instead, she hangs her head and sniffs. “I only finished it yesterday.”

“Come again?”

“I had Terra on a rare potion to help him sleep. It kept him sane and in control.” She brings her head back up, wiping her eyes with her glove. “I didn’t have a second batch finished the last time he was here, so I told him to ration what he had left. I only finished it yesterday…”

“Did you know what was going on with him?”

“No,” Tifa says exasperatedly. “But I didn’t need an explanation. I saw it in his eyes. He was haunted by something very powerful.” She rests her head on the counter. “And I know someone who goes through the same. I wanted to help.”

Aqua traces at the grooves on the wood with her finger. “You kept him going. You helped him find me.” She doesn’t know if it’s true, but it’s a beautiful story for a person needing a prayer answered.

Tifa inhales like she’s meditating, her tears silent and sparse. She wills a smile on her face, and Aqua has to admire that tenacity - she can’t do the same so smoothly. Leaning her elbows, Tifa studies Aqua, from the crown of her head to her chin. She’s looking for something beyond just her face, and while Aqua normally doesn’t feel discomfort in staring anyone down, she finds the emptiness of the bar stealing her glances.

“I still have it,” Tifa says, “if you think it might be helpful.”

Does ‘Crazy Insomniac’ read well on the face? Aqua thinks grimly. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

Tifa nods, but she’s not approving. “Well, I’ll keep it safe just in case.” She settles her attention to a bar that needs to be wiped. “Terra stayed upstairs. It’s not the fanciest, but I try to make it comfortable. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.”

She points to the back, beyond the kitchen, where a rickety staircase bends over the corner, just as narrow as it is steep. The railing wiggles as she leans on them, and the steps moan with every climb. The top is a dense wooden hallway only populated by two doors. The one closest to her to the right is a washroom, its tub cracked and tiny.

The door farther from her is the bedroom, where every floorboard creaks. A small window twice the size of her head opens outward, looking over rooftops and watching dusk blend into night. The only table shelves three books, all with the titles worn out of their covers. Skimming through them, Aqua learns they’re romance novels. She lights the lantern by their side, burning it bright enough to ward away the shadows.

The bed is short, even for Aqua - Terra’s legs would have dangled off of them, but knowing him, he wouldn’t have complained or even noticed.

He had slept here. She only missed him by several days.

Aqua breathes in the pillow, looking for him. It’s freshly cleaned and air-dried.

“You’re not here,” she says out loud. She knows better than to expect different, but the words burn through her eyelids.

She pulls both blue and orange Wayfinders out.

Rolling Terra’s Wayfinder in her fingers, she layers it with hers, perfectly shaped and identical, except for the colors. Making them was supposed to tie a tether between them, a psychic link that lets him stay close. She focuses on that magic, praying for the sensation that he’s watching her, or a whiff of his scent, sandalwood and yeast, entering the room.

“Terra,” she calls. No one answers. She really failed with it.

Having bonds is supposed to brim a Keybearer’s heart with power. What if Xehanort’s beliefs are right? Aqua still has that bond to Terra, and all it’s doing right now is pinching her heart until it swells with an infection, crumbling it so that she has to scatter to keep it together.

If bonds really do make the heart weaker rather than stronger, then Aqua doesn’t have a proper defense for her Master’s teachings.

So Aqua stares at these Wayfinders until the busy noise of a crowd fills the room. Music plays downstairs. Some conversations are giddy and drunk, others are aggressive and drunk, but they blend into a chorus that performs without ever knowing she’s sitting a floor above them, thinking about all the existential magic that doesn’t make a difference in their lives.

So Aqua watches the stars twinkle through the window, a gentle breeze coming in but not threatening enough to blow the lantern out. People dance - it reverberates on the walls. She considers going downstairs and joining the fun. She decides against it. With all the ruckus, Aqua can’t really say she’s alone.

And Aqua rejects Tifa when she knocks, offering a hot plate of food. Tifa leaves her with a small bowl of strawberries just in case, letting her know that Sora is looking for her.

“I need rest,” Aqua says. “He’ll understand.”

Two hours after that, the night starts to quiet, its inhabitants straggling off for adventures.

But there’s always a few left, chattering. Everyone needs someone to talk to.

“Terra,” she calls again. No answer.

Maybe if she plays his music box, he’ll find a way to her.

On his bed, she stares at the ceiling, the music box playing the song of the missing and the missed, the chatter downstairs peaceful, the lantern burning strong.

Dozing off is like blinking, the hours nonexistent and the rest groggy and unfulfilled.

It’s silent. The candle in the lantern is halfway through its life, the music box needs rewinding, and there’s not a voice or movement downstairs. Tifa doesn’t stay overnight, so Aqua is truly alone this time.

She rolls over, and contemplates reaching over for the music box. Both Wayfinders sit idly on the table, side by side.

Aqua inhales. She smells smoke.

The flame on the candle flickers black, suffocating all the light in the room. Aqua whimpers.

Something grabs her from under, pulling her into the mattress as though a hole beneath her body is feeding.

“No!”

But there’s no one to hear her ripping the bedsheets or scratching the surface of the table as she fails to grip it. Eventually, her defiant cries are muffled by pillows and fabric, until she sinks, much like she’s done for years.

Aqua knows that to swim back up to the bed is futile. The Realm of Darkness must have waited for the right opportunity to bring her back to where she truly belongs... Or it was clever this entire time and really got her where it hurt the most. Being in the Realm of Light was too good to be true; it had to have been a dream, right? A Keyblade Master should have known better, should have anticipated the enemy’s movements.

She lands on nothingness. Her only choice is to choose a direction, but in a sea of black, it never matters.

No, something is different this time.

She whirls. Behind her is that girl in white, her blonde hair wrapped around her shoulder, smiling. Nothing smiles in the Realm of Darkness.

“Hello,” Aqua says.

The girl nods in return, her glow intensifying. Then she disintegrates into a cluster of white, holy butterflies, fluttering away.

“Wait!”

Through the nothing, Aqua chases the butterflies, and for a moment they’re too fast for her - if she loses sight of them, she’ll be stuck here forever again. She urges her legs to pick up speed no matter how it feels like she’s slogging through molasses; she’ll thank them for their service later with a real bath, as soon as she sees the Realm of Light again.

In the distance, the butterflies settle, illuminating a silhouette of a figure on the ground, one arm draped over one knee.

Terra. He’s admiring the tiny wings across his arms and shoulders. There’s one nestled in his hair, but he doesn’t notice. Aqua’s footsteps don’t make noise, yet he looks up when she approaches.

His eyes are blue: A gorgeous, deep blue that Aqua used to say was like the river before she saw the ocean for the first time. She’s told him to try wearing the color. It would bring his eyes out more, but he’d scoff at her.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. He stays still, not disturbing the butterflies. “Please tell me you’ve escaped.”

“Depends on where I am,” she says, sitting on her knees and giving him a smile. It widens without her permission, with every glance at his jawline, his brows, his nose, as though the darkness around them can’t hurt her anymore.

“This is…” He shrugs with his head. “My existence.”

This was his prison for twelve years? The Realm of Darkness at least gave her something to do. “There’s nothing here.”

“I suppose it suits me.”

She doesn’t like how defeated he sounds. “I did escape, Terra. Don’t worry.”

He smiles in the way a person does when they find their bed after a long, hard day. He doesn’t have breath: this vision of him is compensating with a sigh in the only way it could. “I’m glad,” he says, as though the relief is heavy on his shoulders.

“And you? Are you safe?”

“As long as I sit here and do as I’m told, then sure. For the most part.” He has the gall to smirk. “He’s knocked out right now, actually.”

Aqua gapes. She never considered that Xehanort could sleep, or would even want to.

She should ask more pressing questions: something about Keyblade business, about the fate of the world, about Xehanort and Mickey, about Ven… But it’s the simple moments that she misses, that she wants to take back for a few seconds, to indulge in this dream before she has to play the Master. And it’s Terra, who always undoes her to a layer that no one else can see. He’s the only one who can.

“Does he snore?” she whispers, the words slipping out naturally.

Terra lifts a brow. “The man who will destroy everything and everyone in the next Keyblade War does, in fact, snore.”

It’s like a usual night, when they’ve snuck together into a dark library past curfew. “That’s because it’s your body. You’re the one who snores.”

“Just a little.”

“Just enough.”

He smiles. The look of it punches Aqua in the gut, dragging her beating heart down along with it. It’s meant for her. It’s meant for his best friend, and dare she wish that it could mean something stronger and closer and more. She steals one precious, little moment to study the way it never stretches to his ears. Most who don’t know him would assume it’s because he’s shy, or too polite. But Terra’s just the type that prefers his smile to ignite his eyes. She’s daydreamed about it for many nights, but this is a tiny detail she’s forgotten, and the sight of it sends another crashing bolt.

He’s really here.

“Terra,” she croaks, “I’m so sorry.”

He falters. “What for?”

What for? She’s replayed all the words she threw at him in her mind, especially the last ones. Of course he’d take them to heart and never direct the blame back at her. Sweet Terra.

“For not believing you when you said you were going after the darkness. For accusing you of doing terrible things in other worlds.”

“Aqua.” He shakes his head, and the butterfly that dug itself into his hair flounces before it measures if it’s safe enough to land in the same spot. “I know what it’s like to be forced to choose between your best friend and your Master.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have told you - I shouldn’t have even insinuated that you would keep going astray and keep doing stupid things. It was cruel of me. It was senseless. Please forgive me.”

He shakes his head again, and the butterfly opts to hover next to his ear this time. “I bet you counted on lecturing me all the way back home before we could go on as normal,” he says, brushing off any sign of hurt. “And I did do some stupid things. We couldn’t have known it would end that way, Aqua. There’s nothing to forgive. Everyone that’s important to me is now safe. I’ve made my peace.”

What is that supposed to mean? There’s no solace to be had if he’s not part of it.

In a flash, Aqua reaches for him. He reciprocates with the same desperate attempt, all the butterflies now in an uproar, enveloping them. Their hands pass through each other, through air.

Aqua gasps. The only thing she’s grabbed is one solitary butterfly, fluttering its wings.

Terra stares at his hand in disbelief, a wave of self-willed reassurance passing over his face. “It’s okay.”

It’s not.

She’s about to say so when he whips his head to the left as though he’s hearing movement. She looks over: there’s nothing but empty, inky space.

“He’s waking up.” Terra scowls, his voice laced with the disgust of someone robbed, and the disappointment of someone faithless. “He’s very paranoid. He doesn’t like it if I talk or move too much.”

“Terra-”

“I don’t have much time.”

There’s a finality in his statement that Aqua chooses to ignore. “But Ven-”

He catches her gaze, his eyes urgent and commanding. “Ven is with Sora.”

Aqua snaps her eyes wide open at the wooden ceiling above her. The morning sun beams through the window. The lantern has been entirely spent.

He never was here.

She jolts up, searching each corner for signs of him (though she knows better. She always knows better, and still she denies it). “No, Terra, please. I need my Keyblade.”

Silence. Tifa hasn’t arrived to start the day. Aqua’s Wayfinder sits alone at the table; Terra’s is on the floor. She must have knocked it over while she slept.

Throwing herself on her knees, Aqua holds his Wayfinder to her chest. She tries using it to feel for him, but even her heart won’t answer. “Come on, Terra, I still need to get to Ven.”

She won’t give in to despair. She won’t think about how she’ll never see him again; it’s just a reaction to the circumstances. She will continue to hold her chin high, continue to teach herself not to cry, continue to look forward. She knows better. Only when she’s sure she won’t fall apart does she relax, letting her head hang.

Something shines from the sunlight through the floorboards she’s sitting on. Aqua peers closer - it shines blue.

It’s desecration but she doesn’t care. Aqua nudges her fingers through the cracks, and it shifts. These floorboards aren’t well bolted, so it takes little effort to pull one out with a giant shriek. Then another. Then a third. Good thing she’s alone for now.

“Stormfall,” she gasps. Along with her armor, all kept together.

Her Keyblade is as familiar as an old friend who has waited for a visit for years, yet as alienating as clothes that no one believes used to fit. It’s much lighter than the Master’s Defender, much sleeker that it feels almost delicate, even though Aqua knows better. It’s sturdy, but groggy, as though it’s waking up from a decade-long slumber. It burns at the touch of her hand, slowly but surely recognizing who is holding it this time. It answers back; it’s home, and glad she’s returned.

She runs her hands down the blade, and traces the shapes of the key ridges at its end. At last, she hugs her Keyblade, and her heart remembers how beautifully the water glistens in the sunshine.

Within the hour, after she’s taken enough time for herself, Aqua will take one step forward onto solid ground.

#terraqua #aqua #tifa lockhart #zack fair #terra #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfic #i planned on releasing this last week #but held it because of what was happening #my fic

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skyeyaga · 4 years

Text

Sweatshop Worker POV

My eyes flutter open. The first thing I see are the numbers on the wall and I rub my eyes to focus more on the numbers and hands - it points at the number five. Outside the window that is on my right, the light peeks through the clouds outside. Now I better get ready for a new tough, tormenting, troubling day because of the countless mistakes I make. Swinging my legs out from under my thin blanket, my toes make contact with the cold, crisp, cool floor and it sends shivers down my spine. As I fully step on the floor, a creaking sound is caused. My eyes dash to my roommates and one or two of them yawn and rub their eyes while the others stay asleep. I rapidly ran into the filthy, grimy, messy room because I need to clean myself up for the day (this is the only reason I wake up before everyone, so I have this all to myself.) The water from the sink sprays on my face and I look in the mirror, the girl in the mirror jabs me with hollow eyes to begin the day.

Each foot lightly touches the ground, the footsteps that were once clear quickly fade. The tapping echoes in my head while I think. There was a time when I was happy and joyful. There was a time when I was surrounded by love - I could almost hear the words: “Aku cint akamu.*” There was a time when I was not here. Wide smiles float through my head, gleeful giggling tantalises my memory. My parents’ gentle and kind faces flash around in my head. A clap of thunder crashes the shores of my happiness and like a storm it darkens. My fourteenth birthday was the worst day of my life, all I can remember is my father’s snow white face lying under a blanket, his raspy exhales and the rivers flowing down the sides of his face, that gave me goosebumps. We didn’t have enough, I turned to this place to do it all for him and I can’t imagine him leaving - I have to keep him here and I will do whatever it takes but it’s been about two years since that happened. Walking past a window, I see a bedraggled girl. She stares back. A gasp escapes my mouth. She’s me. She looks awful. My eyes lay on my once chestnut glowing skin, it’s covered with thick layers of dust and dirt. My long lustrous thick auburn hair is now ruined; short and straggly, strands falling out. My hazel eyes, they don’t have the shine they used to have. I brush my hands over my large and baggy pants, my finger gets caught in one of the many holes. I glimpse at a blood stain and wonder if it’s mine. I wander on ahead, trying to forget that this ever happened.

A long line forms behind a door, each person carrying the same sort of item. We all know the punishment if one does not bring it. A loud shriek echoes across the room and no one even dares to look at the awful sight but truly, it is their own fault. When I walk through the door, I look around me and all I smell is the foul, repugnant stench of smoke. Walking to my station, getting lost in my thoughts, ‘I know this is hard but you need to do this for your family. It’ll all be worth it in the end.’ I keep telling myself the same thing. Slowly sitting down at my desk, feeling empty inside, as empty as a politician’s promise to hard-working people. In this case, as empty as my boss’s promise but at least I am getting money, this is the reason why I’m here - isn’t it? As I gently press the foot pedal, I watch the needle going up and down creating a charcoal black tick, it reminds me of evil thoughts and at that moment I glance over to look at my boss who is peeking over my shoulder and I try to hide the little smile of satisfaction. The once-loud footsteps become quieter and more muted. I sit for so long that sweat makes my bottom stick to my seat like gum at the bottom of a shoe. Once I finish I will get rewarded greatly - hopefully. Then I hear footsteps that get louder and then he appears again. He puts his dirty, muddy hands all over my hard work, wiping his disgusting hands across them. I stare at him, frustrated. ‘This is not fair, I worked hard on this and this is how he repays me?!’ Without any further thinking, I pull his hairy, chunky hands under the needle. A long yelping sound goes on longer than a whale song. Panting, he glares at me with his blood boiling. Always know the consequences of your own actions.

I entered hell. As each hit causes more pain, the world becomes extra blurry, or maybe it’s just my eyes. As a result, my mouth spews red liquid. A man hits me on my head finding it more satisfying hitting my hollow head. My hands swollen, my mouth numb and my head cracked. ‘I need the money, I can’t do the same thing again. I need the money, this is worth it.’ I scold myself in my head. Subsequently, a large and heavy foot steps on my hand, squishing it like a bug. Something hits my head again and all is black. When I wake up, the first thing I see is an old man sitting down at a polished wooden desk. His face is as wrinkly as a scrunched up piece of unwanted paper. I notice that he’s dressed quite nicely and he is wearing a light gray suit with a bright red tie so clearly he’s someone important. My eyes dash around the bright red room, (probably there to cover the blood). A young man standing next to the good-looking elderly man in the chair says, “Bill, she is awake now.” Bill, I recognise that name and then one of my roommates’ voices enters my head. “I hate Bill, he’s the one who owns this company and he abuses us when we make a mistake. But we have to work harder if we want to succeed in life.” She would talk about this Bill everyday and now here I am face to face with him. I look at him, he knows what he has done. He is responsible for the suffering of the workers. While I’m staring at him pictures flash in my head, the blood on workers’ hands, the bruises, the suffering- at such a young age too. His face would always be there, watching us die. Us faking to inspectors, telling lies and more lies causing the weight on our shoulders to grow bigger. He was there to make sure that everything goes smoothly. The empty threats we receive in return for our hard work and us being unable to take care of our own families because of the measly wages we earn. A harsh growl ripping from someone’s throat is heard, ‘who is making this sound?’ I then realize it is from me and I sound as fierce as a dog when there is a trespasser on their property. My face softens after some more thinking, the truth is this that coming here was our choice. We all came here for a reason just like I came here for my father. I cannot lose this, this is all I have... He just laughs to himself, “you amuse me, miss. But now you must pay.” The room darkens and there was a thunder clap. “Absolutely not, I am not sorry for anything. Rather than me, it should be you. You know what you did.” I replied simply and coolly, I sounded like a swag person who doesn’t show their feelings. Next thing I know, all is black. Again.

I wake up in bed, groaning sounds comes out of me. Automatically, my stick thin fingers that are as thin as an empty apology appear next to my temple. A deep rose color that is as red as a freshly picked strawberry coats the tips of my fingers, ‘not again!’ I scream in my head. I throw the material over my head, gazing at the coins next to me on a side table. It is barely enough for me to even buy food! Suddenly I become more aware that I got lower than I normally get. This must be the punishment. There is nothing worth living for anymore, I feel like I am dying everyday. I’ve climbed up so far up a mountain only to fall right back again. My parents enter my head, I’ve got to do this for them. Once again I am sitting and watching the needle go up and down, I could almost smell the stench of failure. That’s me.

* “Aku cinta kamu” means “I love you” in Idonesian.

#writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #narrative #sweatshopworker

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aliciameade · 5 years

Text

Fade Into You - Ch. 1

Title: Fade Into You (Chapter 1 of 5) Author: aliciameade Rating: T Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Tip for newlyweds: send a wedding invite to every billionaire whose address you can find because it's a 50/50 chance their assistants just send you a perfunctory gift without ever wondering who the hell you are. Or: Beca had a really bad terrible idea when she got tired of being broke in New York.

Also on AO3 and FFnet, but I probably can’t link there idk.

Beca wasn’t prepared for how expensive it was to live in New York City. Sure, she’d done her research; she knew it would be costly, but just how costly it was was wreaking havoc on her bank account. Rent, transportation, groceries, household necessities and the very rare luxuries like a concert or theater ticket here or there to keep her sanity had her living paycheck to paycheck. Even bringing two roommates with her to cram into the tiny Brooklyn studio didn’t help her live any more comfortably (considering only one of them chipped in for rent).

Of course, it probably helped her afford to eat.

Whatever. The point was that it was not quite the life she envisioned for herself once she landed what she thought was a Big Job.

But at least she had her friends.

“Why do I have so many cousins? And why are they all getting married?”

Beca watched Chloe sitting at their tiny dining table on Sunday afternoon (if you could even call it that) as she tossed aside a just-opened fancy envelope and what Beca assumed to be a wedding invitation. As far as she could remember, it was the fourth Chloe had received so far that year. “How many cousins do you have?”

“Sixteen. And I’m the baby of the family so they’re all either married or about to be. And here I am.” She gestured at nothing specific and sighed. “I can barely pay my share of the groceries. I can’t afford to go to all these weddings so I need to send something off their registry, but I can’t afford that, either.”

“Weddings feel like a ploy to get free shit from everyone you met once in your life,” Beca said as she watched Chloe stress out. “Like, congratulations on deciding to spend your life with one person. Why do I have to reward that?”

“It’s like an expectation. You either have to go to the wedding or send a gift. Or both!” Chloe slid her chair back from the table and took the two steps needed to get to their bed which she threw herself on a bit dramatically. “I’m just going to elope.”

She liked being on the same page as Chloe. “And miss out on all the free swag?” Beca said as she nudged Chloe’s foot with her own.

“I don’t want to be part of the problem!”

“Okay, okay!” Beca laughed. “So elope. Must be nice, though: send out a bunch of invitations to people you know won’t come and get a bunch of free stuff in return.”

“I know,” Chloe mumbled into her pillow. “It’s so messed up.”

A devious thought slid through Beca’s mind and she paused the music she’d been playing. “I need a new Keurig; ours is going to die any day now. I can feel it.”

Chloe turned onto her side to look up at Beca. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She closed her laptop and slid down to lie next to Chloe, eye-to-eye. “I have an idea. But before I tell you, I blame it entirely on Amy’s influence.”

“Why Amy?”

“You’ll see. Now hear me out. What if we sent out wedding invitations saying we’re getting married in, like, Fiji where no one we know can afford to go, and set up a wedding registry somewhere.”

“Beca, that’s, like, fraud. No wonder you blamed it on Amy.” Chloe frowned at her. “And no one would believe we’re getting married anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not even dating!” Chloe said with a laugh. “And you don’t even like girls!”

Oh. Right. There were those little details that the people who would make sense to invite to their wedding would know she and Chloe weren’t together. Not to mention the giant elephant in Beca’s mental room that she was actually very into girls and very, very into Chloe.

Except literally no one in her new adult life knew either of those facts about her. The bisexual thing was weird to bring up unprompted at this point, and when she started dating Jesse in college, everyone just assumed she was straight and made it even weirder to try to correct.

And the Chloe thing, well...that was all sorts of messy and complicated.

“Okay, first of all, a person can fall in love with someone who’s not their usual...type, so anyone who says shit about that can fuck right off.”

Chloe seemed a bit surprised by her declaration but waved for her to continue. “And the fact that it’s me?”

She had to stop herself from saying, “It’s everything.” Instead, she said, “We’ve basically been living together for six years. I don’t think it’s that far-fetched.”

Chloe was quiet for a moment, thinking, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “Beca Mitchell, you devious little devil. You actually think this could work.”

“Well, why wouldn’t it? If Aubrey was getting married in, like, Fiji and you couldn’t afford to go, you’d send her something off her registry, right? That’s what you just said.”

“I would never miss Aubrey’s wedding,” Chloe said earnestly. “She’s my best friend. And she wouldn’t miss mine, either.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Beca drawled. “So we don’t invite our current friends. Or immediate family. Cousins, old coworkers, and friends from high school.”

“Can I invite Mrs. Higgins, my 8th grade choir teacher? She was my favorite teacher.”

“Yeah, I mean as long as she won’t try to show up—wait. You’d actually do this?”

“You’ve had worse ideas.”

“Have I though?” Beca shook her head. “This is dumb. Forget it.” She put away her computer and rolled out of bed. “I’m going to Target if you need anything. I’m out of conditioner.”

“I don’t think I do, but I’ll come with you.”

~ ~ ~

When Beca came home from work late on Monday, Chloe was laying in bed, laptop propped on her thighs. She was intently focused on whatever it was she was doing and didn’t look up at Beca’s entrance.

“Hey, weirdo,” Beca said as she kicked out of her shoes and pulled her own computer out of her bag to toss it onto the bed while she changed into comfy lounging clothes. “What are you doing?”

Chloe ignored her for a few more seconds before tapping the trackpad with particularly notable resolution and sitting up. “Hey!”

“Yeah, hey,” Beca laughed. “Seriously, what are you doing? Caught up in an intense Pinterest spiral?”

Chloe shook her head. “Come here; I want to show you something.”

“Is this going to be puppies or something dirty?” Beca knelt on their bed and walked her way up until she was sitting next to Chloe. There was no telling what Chloe had up her sleeve whenever she told Beca she wanted to show her something.

“Neither. Look.” She turned her screen toward Beca.

“What am I looking at?” she asked after a few seconds. “Because that looks like a wedding invitation with our names on it.”

“That’s what it is.”

She looked at the invitation on Chloe’s screen again and then looked at her. Chloe was biting her lip and almost buzzing with excitement. “And why is that a thing that exists?”

“I made it!”

Beca rolled her eyes. “And why did you make it?”

“We need invitations if we’re going to invite people to our wedding.”

“That idea was terrible! I told you to forget it; how much time did you spend on this?” She grabbed the computer away from Chloe so she could zoom in on it. The stationery had been painted with watercolors. It was quite pretty and one Beca wouldn’t be opposed to choosing for her actual wedding.

“A couple hours. I went with a silver and sage palette. I don’t think we’re a couple who has pink in their wedding.”

“Yeah, no,” Beca said, only half-listening because her brain was pretty hung up at the moment seeing the words ‘The Wedding of Beca and Chloe’ in script. “No pink.”

“I just put Fiji because you mentioned it yesterday but we can pick something else. And a date. Oh, and we’re registered at Amazon and IKEA.”

Picking a wedding locale and date with Chloe? Sure. Cool. “Wait. You already registered us?”

“Well, no, not yet,” Chloe scoffed as if Beca’s question was absurd. “That’s what’s on the registry cards that go with the invitations. We need to make our registries together next weekend.”

“I’m not sure if I should be concerned or proud that you’re so willing to go along with my terrible idea.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Chloe said with a shrug.

Beca was pretty sure a lot of bad things could happen like someone showing up to a non-existent wedding. Then again, all they’d really have to do is apologize and explain that the wedding was called off last-minute and point out their would-be guests would now have a vacation in Fiji without wedding activities to inconvenience them.

“Several things come to mind,” she said as she returned the computer.

Chloe elbowed her. “Okay. We need this to be far enough in advance that it doesn’t feel shotgun, but not too far that everyone can rearrange their schedules for it.”

“So it’s like I forgot to send out the invitations like I said I would and you found them in a box two months after they were supposed to have gone out?”

Chloe looked at her, holding her gaze. “That sounds exactly like something you would do.”

“And we should have it on, like, a Wednesday so it’s super inconvenient. With no holidays around it that people can use to save vacation days.”

“I feel like you’re a secret evil genius,” Chloe said as she flipped through the calendar on her computer. “How about October 2?”

“Perfect.”

They then spent more than an hour Googling Fiji and wedding location options. It took so long because they kept bickering about the venues; Chloe loved one but Beca hated it. Then Beca loved one and Chloe hated it. Every fifteen minutes or so, one of them would remind the other this was all fake and it didn’t matter, and the other would argue that it still had to seem real. They’d finally settled on a resort located on the edge of a rainforest that had more than enough amenities for a destination wedding.

“Well?” Chloe asked when she finished entering the details on the invitation. “Good?”

Beca stared at the screen and what they’d created inviting recipients to their wedding. It made her a little queasy so she swallowed hard. “Perfect.”

They ordered a set of one hundred invitations, response cards, registry cards, and envelopes for it all and agreed to split the expense equally.

“Did we seriously just do that?” Beca asked as she put away her credit card. “That shit is nonrefundable. We just burned five hundred dollars.”

“Think of it as a down payment on my new dinette set.”

“Your new dinette? Pretty sure that’s going to be ours, babe.”

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at her. “Babe?”

Beca blushed. “Wedding fever. Shut up.”

“You’re adorable,” Chloe said with a laugh as she grabbed Beca by the chin to give her a shake. “Careful, or I might marry you for real.”

She blushed even harder, her heart getting lodged in her throat. “Yeah, right, dude.”

“We’ll see,” Chloe said with a wink before hopping off the bed to leave Beca behind, heart still pounding. “It’s my turn to make dinner. What do you want?”

~~~

“How many names do you have so far?” Chloe asked from her lounging spot lying backward on their bed, feet rocking back and forth next to Beca.

Beca looked at the spreadsheet on her computer; she hated spreadsheets. Loathed them. But Chloe created one for their wedding invitation list so she could have Staples print the addresses on the envelopes once they arrived. Had they planned ahead like actual would-be brides, they’d have had the list ready to import when they ordered the invitations to let the printer do that. But alas. “Thirty-six. It’s hard to figure out who makes sense to invite to my wedding but wouldn’t actually come.”

“If you can get to forty, I can make up the difference.”

“I should invite the CEO of BFD; it’s not like he’d ever come. I’ve never even met him. He’d probably pick one of the expensive gifts, too.”

Chloe sat up quickly and Beca tried not to think about how strong her abs must be to do that. “Beca.”

“What?”

“You’re a genius.” She sat forward so suddenly Beca had a fleeting [stupid] thought that Chloe was about to kiss her but all she did was turn around to sit next to her and look at the list on Beca’s screen. “But don’t add him; I don’t want to put your career at risk. Put your douche boss from Residual Heat instead; there’s no way he’d come.”

“O...kay,” Beca said as she typed his name. She’d have to look up her old studio’s mailing address later. “But why am I a genius?”

“We can invite a handful of CEOs and tech bigwigs who won’t know whether or not we work for them. We send it to their office and their assistant will just buy something off our registry without bothering to look us up.”

“Should I be concerned that your mind is this twisted?” Beca asked as Chloe commandeered her laptop to open Google and start searching.

“Did you forget this was your idea to begin with?”

She watched Chloe pull up the address for the headquarters of Apple. “A little ambitious, don’t you think?”

“Are you kidding? The bigger the company the bigger the chance we get a ‘declines with regret’ and you get that Ableton Push you think I didn’t see you add to our Amazon registry.”

Beca grumbled under her breath to hide her guilt. She’d gotten a little click-happy the other night after a couple beers and added a few non-traditional items to their list like high-end mixing equipment and the new Xbox.

“I’m just going to pick ten companies from the Forbes 500. Let’s see what happens. And now you don’t have to come up with the rest of your list!”

“Sounds great,” she said with a tight-lipped smile.

Something in her gut was telling her they were taking this much too far. But that new Ableton was so, so pretty…

~~~

“Becs, honey,” Chloe said when Beca opened the door to head to work.

Beca turned, patting herself down to make sure she had her keys and phone. “What’s up?”

“Don’t forget to mail the invitations.” She smiled at Beca and pointed at the shoe box on the table containing their pretty little scams. Amy had stuffed the envelopes for them last night and was naturally agreeable to their little business venture. They’d obliged her request to add an absurd inflatable bounce house to their list as payment for her help as long as she promised to never try to set it up in the apartment.

Beca was pretty sure Amy had her fingers crossed behind her back when she agreed.

She picked it up and rapped her fingernails on it. “Are you sure we should do this? I feel kind of guilty.”

“We got our list down to eighty-nine people we barely know—or don’t know at all. It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, okay,” Beca said with a nod, though being told not to worry didn’t magically erase her concerns. “You’re right. I’ll see you after work. It’s my turn to cook, so text me what you want and I’ll pick it up on my way home.”

“I’m totes going to be the one who actually cooks in this marriage, aren’t I?”

“Trust me; it’s for the best. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, sweetie!”

~~~

Beca dropped the stack of thick, fancy envelopes into the outgoing mail drop on the corner by her subway stop on her way to work, and that was it.

The deed was done.

~ ~ ~

Three days later...

When Beca came home from work she found Chloe at the table but she wasn’t sipping her usual tea and wearing a smile at Beca’s return.

Instead, she was visibly nervous, her arms crossed and eyes fixed on her untouched tea.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Beca asked and moved to sit across from her. “Are you okay?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” Chloe said in a small voice, eyes refusing to meet Beca’s.

“It’s hard to promise that when I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’ll try. What’s going on?”

Chloe closed her eyes and sighed. “My parents got one of our invitations.”

“What?!” Beca almost launched from her chair; she gripped the edge of the table to stay put and she saw Chloe flinch at her outburst. She tried to lower voice when she demanded, “How?”

“I checked the spreadsheet because I know I didn’t put them on it.” She sounded on the verge of tears. “But it looks like it got corrupted, like it combined with my Christmas card list.”

Beca’s blood ran cold. “My dad’s on your Christmas card list, too.” She’d barely finished the sentence when her phone started ringing in her pocket. She could hear Chloe’s text alerts almost non-stop from where her phone sat on her bedside table. “Who else ended up on the list?”

Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Beca pulled her phone from her pocket; she already knew. She didn’t even bother looking at the screen as she swiped the screen to answer it. “Hey, Dad.”

“You and Chloe are getting married?!” he crowed into the phone. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Oh, Beca I’m so happy for you both; you’re perfect together!”

“We’re not—wait.” She straightened. “Huh?”

“I knew it was only a matter of time.”

She looked at Chloe across the table who was oblivious to what her father was saying. She seemed to assume it to be terrible the way she was hiding half her face behind her hand. She looked miserable.

“Yeah…” Beca replied. She felt bad; this was all her doing and now Chloe’s going to be humiliated having to tell everyone in her life that she tried to do something dumb. Or that her fake relationship failed. And all her cousins were getting married… “We’re...really happy.”

Chloe’s hand fell and her eyes went wide. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“And I’m so happy for you. The date is going to be tough for me to get away in the middle of the semester, but there’s no way I’m going to miss my little girl’s big day. Is there a block of rooms reserved for guests? Should I just give your name when I call?”

“Um, no. Sorry. We...we splurged on the trip so we couldn’t lock down rooms for everyone.”

“Don’t you worry; I’ll take care of the rooms. It’s the least I can do. I’ll call the resort and give them my information.” It was Beca’s turn to cover her eyes. “Thanks, Dad. That’s so generous.”

“Anything for you and my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

“Thanks. Listen, I just got home and Chloe and I have a lot to talk about. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure, pumpkin.”

Beca ended the call and set down her phone with a long exhale. “Shit.”

“What happened?” Chloe asked sounding as sheepish as she did excited.

“He’s...going to pay for everyone’s rooms at the resort for our wedding.”

Chloe blinked hard and sat back. “What?”

“He thinks we’re perfect together. And he wasn’t surprised at all. Well, he was surprised by the wedding. Not about us being together.” Which we’re not. “What did your parents say?”

Chloe cleared her throat. “They offered to pay for the rehearsal dinner and the reception.”

“What?” Beca said with a barked laugh.

“They’re over the moon for us. Asked what took us so long.” She looked like she wanted to disappear into her chair, which was a unique state for Chloe to be in.

“But you didn’t tell them it’s fake.”

“Did you tell your dad it’s fake?” Chloe countered. “No, you didn’t. You just went along with it.”

Beca sank into her chair, too. “And now our parents are ecstatic we’re getting married.” There was a lot to unpack with that fact and all that came with it. Chloe’s texts were still chiming and a minute later, Beca’s started up, too. “Seriously, who else got invited?”

With a sigh, Chloe slid a piece of paper across the table. Printed on it was a spreadsheet set up just like what they’d made to send to Staples, except it was a mish-mash of their distant cousins, millionaire executives, and people they actually knew. Their parents. The owner of the vet clinic Chloe was interning at.

Aubrey, Emily, and the rest of the Bellas.

“Oh, my God, how did this happen?” Beca said with a groan as she crumpled the paper and tossed it toward the trash can. (She missed.)

“I told you: I don’t know! All I can think is that my files were named List1 and List2 and somehow they got combined or maybe I didn’t delete everything from one of them before I saved it.” She reached across the table and grabbed Beca’s hands. “Beca, I’m so, so sorry. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll let everyone know it was just a prank gone wrong.”

Beca was about to agree when she remembered how excited her father sounded. “Your parents were really happy?”

Chloe managed a sad laugh; she still looked on the verge of tears and Beca couldn’t blame her. She felt like she might cry herself. “My mom said she was starting to get worried you were never going to propose.”

“Oh, my God,” Beca said, blushing hard. “She didn’t even know that we were dating. Or, that we weren’t dating. Whatever. What did you say?”

“I told her I asked you.”

“You proposed to me?!” Beca scoffed. “As if you would! I would totally ask you to marry me before you even had a chance!”

Chloe blinked at her, her worry and sadness starting to fade into a soft smile. “You would?”

Beca realized what she’d said and shook her head. “Nevermind. I should have looked at the envelopes before I dropped them off.”

“You didn’t have a reason to. This isn’t your fault.”

“Except that it was all my idea?” Beca said with a crooked smile. “You’d think Amy would have realized they were wrong when she was stuffing them. She knew the plan.”

Chloe sighed and let go of Beca’s hands to run her own through her hair. “Something tells me she knew they got messed up.”

“Why would you think that?”

Chloe shot her a look.

“Because it’s Amy. Right.” She sighed, too. “I need a drink.” Beca stood up and headed for the fridge, the top of which held their liquor collection. “What do you want?”

“Whiskey, neat,” Chloe answered as she pushed aside her tea.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

~~~

They waited until they were both two whiskeys in before they agreed to get on Skype with Aubrey.

“This is how you tell me you two are a thing?” Aubrey said as she waved the invitation in front of her camera. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“It all happened so fast, Bree,” Chloe said. “I guess living together in such close quarters...well, it brought some things to light.”

It was so convincing that Beca almost believed her. Except she didn’t know why they were lying to Aubrey. Not wanting to immediately disappoint their excited parents was one thing, but going along with it with Aubrey… She nudged Chloe from her spot next to her where they sat closely in bed so they could both be mostly in frame and threw her a look she hoped read, What the hell are you doing?

Chloe just winked at her and slipped her arm behind her to wrap around her waist and pull her closer.

“Well, as disappointed as I am that you didn’t think to tell me, I’m thrilled for you both.”

“You are?” Beca scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You two are good for each other. And I know you’ll take care of my best friend.”

Beca had to fight hard to not blush. “Yeah. Well...that’s the plan.”

“So, Fiji? I’ve always wanted to go! Do you have a wedding planner? And Chloe, I can’t believe you haven’t asked me to be your Maid of Honor yet! We made a pact!”

Chloe cleared her throat. “Right! I was getting to that! I’d love it if you’d be my Maid of Honor.”

“What are you doing?” Beca muttered from the side of her mouth.

“Asking my bestie to be in our wedding,” Chloe muttered in return.

“I’d be honored!” Aubrey said with a bright grin. “Now you have to let me take over the planning. You can’t do this all by yourselves. Put me in touch with your contact at the resort and I’ll take it over. What have you arranged so far?”

“Well, we could barely get the invitations out without trouble…” Chloe started and Beca elbowed her. “So we haven’t really had a chance to get going yet. We haven’t even put down the deposit to reserve the space yet—”

“Don’t say another word,” Aubrey said with her hand up. “I’m going to take care of that as my gift to you both.”

“Thanks, Bree. That means so much.” Chloe grasped Beca’s hand and pulled it up to kiss it.

Beca just stared at her in shock.

“Right, Becs?”

“Uh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Aubrey,” Beca offered. “We gotta go, though,” she added, desperate to end the torture.

“Okay. Remember to send me that info and I’ll send you the confirmations once I get it taken care of this week.”

“Totes. I’ll text you later.”

“Perfect. Have a good night, you two!”

“Bye!” Chloe chirped and Beca offered a weak wave as Chloe disconnected the call.

“Oh, my God, Chloe, we can’t keep this up!” she said as soon as the screen was blank. “What are we doing?!”

“Everyone’s so excited for us; I don’t want to disappoint them.” Chloe turned a little to look at her and she was so close Beca could see the different specks of light and dark in Chloe’s eyes. “We’ll tell them soon.”

“Aubrey’s going to spend money on this. We can’t let her do that.”

“I’ll wait a few days to send her the info and then we’ll just tell it’s off.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

~~~

Not two hours had passed when both their phones chimed with a group text from Aubrey to the two of them. Chloe was taking a bath when it came in so Beca opened it and read it aloud so she could hear it.

“Was too excited! Looked up the resort info and got it booked. Oh, my God. They said they didn’t have any record of your interest—gee, I wonder why—and the day was already booked for some corporate retreat but I got them to move it for the wedding. Of course she did. Good thing you let me take care of it! You might not have had a venue. Damn it, Chloe!”

“Well, it’s not my fault!”

“Then whose fault is it?!”

Nothing but silence followed from behind the shower curtain.

(Chapter 2)

#bechloe #fdau #fake dating au #WITH A TWIST #fanfic #fade into you

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musingsoflulu · 6 years

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boston marathon recap

ahhhh, take me back to this past weekend, please?! i wanted to document everything so i could look back and smile, smile, smile remembering my first boston experience.

after work on thursday, we drove up to my parents’ house and spent the night before leaving for charlotte the next day. my mom and my aunt laura came with us, which was so so so much fun. our flight left early friday afternoon and we landed in boston mid-afternoon.

our air bnb was THE CUTEST. an old victorian home located in jamaica plain (we got to stay in the turret!) our hosts were the absolute best- we had a private entrance, they stocked the fridge with essentials, and they also offered to leave me foam rollers, yoga mats, etc, etc.

after settling into our air bnb, we set out into the city for dinner. we decided on a seafood restaurant in back bay, which was ~okay~ but not mind-blowing. while walking back to the T, we grabbed some pastries from whole foods and some wine from a shop we passed. mom giggled as she picked up a huge smirnoff ice and i totally thought she was kidding, but nope, she wanted it and i spent all weekend laughing about it.

the next morning, i slept in and had coffee and my chocolate croissant in our cute little kitchen before heading out to bib pickup and the expo!

it was so exciting seeing all of the celebration jackets from years past as we waited in line to get in. so many different colors and i thought about how many unforgettable experiences these people had at this marathon and how i was about to run it for the first time. how this would hopefully be my first of many boston marathons. how my kids will laugh at all of my colorful celebration jackets hanging in my closet years from now.

???can you feel my excitement???

the highlight of the expo was stumbling upon scott jurek doing book signings for his new book, “north.” what’s more, clif was givng them out for free while their supplies lasted!!! so as i stood in line, i was pleasantly surprised when they just casually handed us a book for him to sign. when it was our turn to meet him, i mentioned that we actually lived off of the appalachian trail and he asked which part. when we told him, he said “omg i HATE that place! i was so close to quitting there!” and then he wrote a little funny statement about how our town sucks and finished it with a smiley face. it was the coolest and made me feel so badass for training in that area.

around this time, logan felt so sick (?food poisoning from not so good seafood the night before?) and so we ran to tracksmith on newbury street to grab another swag bag and then grabbed a late lunch before heading back to the air bnb for the night.

so much swag.

while logan slept away his sickness, mom and aunt laura and i spent the night snuggled up on the couch rewatching “big little lies” and eating greek takeout.

the next morning, i went out for a very short shakeout run in the nearby park while snow flurries fell.

then we ran over to quincy market for lunch!

we explored downtown crossing and i had my first london fog (uhhh so good?!)

then we visited the finish line and there was SO MUCH EXCITEMENT in the air. it was so windy and cold and snow flurries were falling but i didn’t even care because i knew no matter what the weather brought, i’d be crossing that finish line the next day.

we made dinner reservations at an italian place in the north end called “taranta” and properly carb loaded before the big day.

i spent the last part of the night getting all of my stuff together. it was actually really stressful trying to figure out what exactly i needed to wear, when to shed it, making sure i had all my gels, extra socks, etc.

anyone who watched the race knew the conditions SUCKED. i prepared well for the most part. i packed an old pair of running shoes i decided i would wear to the start line and wouldn’t mind leaving behind right before the race started. i also packed throwaway socks. we grabbed some used clothes at goodwill before we left for boston and i would wear these while i waited for my wave to start. i had eggs and toast prior to leaving the air bnb and packed a stroopwaffle to have while i waited at the athletes’ village. i packed 3 gu gels to have during the race- my favorites, chocolate sea salt and salted caramel.

i debated back and forth about whether i should wear shorts or tights during the race and ultimately decided on my tracksmith twilight shorts. i’d run in these in heavy rain during training runs and they never felt like they weighed me down at all. i decided on the light, moisture wicking long sleeve shirt i wore at harpeth hills and my tracksmith run bra.

sunday night, i had decided a sub 3:15 marathon was probably not going to happen given the weather conditions. i’d be happy if i got a sub 3:35 so i could come back next year. but then i woke up monday morning and read a post by tommy rivers puzey (one of flagstaff’s coconino cowboys).

“All the best to those racing tomorrow. Don't squander this, or piss away this gift. Don't talk yourself out of accomplishing the goals you have just because of some wind and a little rain. Remember that there are countless individuals who would give anything to be in your place right now. Send it tomorrow morning. Give em hell. Respect the race, and the distance. Respect your competitors and the legacy of all those who have tread before you. The sacrifices. The servicemen and women. The survivors. The sweat and the tears and the blood.”

and i realized- in the end, it wouldn’t be the weather that stopped me from accomplishing my goals. it would be my excuses. so i wrote this on my hand and decided, yes, i was still going to aim for a 3:15.

as i hopped off the T on monday morning, i was greeted by random people on the street high-fiving me, yelling “go runners! we love our runners!” and i had this overwhelming sensation and almost broke down into tears. this was happening. i couldn’t believe it. this race was already so special to me and i hadn’t even run it yet.

i kissed everyone goodbye and hopped on the bus to hopkinton and immediately had to pee (why does this always happen?!). the bus ride to hopkinton was fairly quiet and our bus wasn’t full at all. i remember thinking “ugh, can we just wait on the bus until our wave starts?” it was so dry and warm and nobody wanted to go trudging out into the athletes’ village and stand in the mud.

after power walking to the portapotties to empty my bladder, i made my way into a tent and stood in the mud huddled with other runners. a guy from scotland looked at me and said “i’d say it’s a treadmill day.” ha! i met two other runners that were around my age and they were in my wave, as well. it was one runner’s first boston as well and we talked about how we really knew how the pick the right year as the rain poured and the wind howled right outside the tent.

i didn’t have to wait long before my wave was called and we started making our way to the start line. all along the way i was stressed about when exactly i was going to shed my throwaway clothes (not realizing they had donation bags right up to the start line). i left my old muddy purple Fates and dirty, wet socks outside a Hopkinton high school classroom. The windows were decorated with encouraging signs made by students- “run. walk. crawl. just don’t give up.”

i finally made it to my corral, shed my pants and sweatshirt and decided to keep my rain poncho on for as long as i could during the race. before i knew it, 10:25 AM was here and i was smiling like an idiot as i crossed the start line of the boston marathon while rain smacked me in the face.

i started off fast (oops)- the race started on a downhill. by mile 3, my damn bladder was full again (how?!) and i decided i would need to pee or else i’d probably not get enough water along the course. so i stopped for 30 seconds at mile 5 and peed as fast as I could.

despite the weather, the streets were lined with spectators! people screaming from their homes in hopkinton and ashland.

before i knew it, 8 miles had flown by and i thought “what?! no! where has the time gone?!”

the rain was constantly beating down in my face and i felt i wasn’t able to fully look around and enjoy a lot of the course, unfortunately.

at mile 12.5, we passed the kissing wellesley girls. this was on my bucket list. even though the kissing mile is traditionally for the men running, i was determined i was going to get a kiss from a wellesley girl at my first boston marathon. i ran up to a group and pointed to my cheek and they were literally so confused. i am still laughing about it. finally, one girl kissed me on the cheek and i took off running again, yelling “THANK YOU!”

the wellesley crowds were insane as we ran through the town and i remember a HUGE gust of wind blew and it became a torrential downpour and every runner around me started screaming “YES, BRING IT ON!” so much grit, so much determination. nothing was getting in our way from getting to boyston.

around mile 16, my stomach started cramping. i’d had 2 gus and i thought if i didn’t go to the bathroom when i could, it might turn into something more dramatic. so i stopped again. and this time walked straight into a portapotty where someone had completely missed the toilet during their bathroom emergency. here’s the thing about runners- you put us in race mode and literally nothing bothers us. i was functioning off of pure adrenaline and didn’t even hesitate to squat instead of wait for another portapotty to open up hahaha.

i was expecting to see my people around mile 16 of the course, but never did (turns out, they couldn’t find a way to make it out there and back to the finish line in time). and before i knew it, i was flying up and down the hills of newton.

i was initially nervous about this part of the course, but once i hit it, i realized i was more than prepared for these hills. at mile 21, i kept thinking, “heartbreak hill” has got to be coming up and somebody else beside me voiced this too. then another runner was like “you’re ON heartbreak hill!” and two men were like “wait, this is heartbreak hill??? oh hell, we are three leg racing up this shit.” and they proceeded to step on the side of the course and tie their legs together. it was wild. and hilarious.

i managed a decent time coming up heartbreak, although my legs and hips were feeling it and i could feel myself fading and slowing down. the last 5 miles of the course were brutal, with head winds becoming stronger. i couldn’t will my legs to move as fast as i wanted them to. it had been like running through a damn wind tunnel for the past 22 miles and it was only getting harder.

despite my pace slowing, i was all smiles by the time i reached the landmark citgo sign and as i turned onto boylston street, the entire street was lined with crowds of people cheering as loud as they could over the sound of the rain. i crossed the finish line with a huge smile. i didn’t even know my exact time, but knew i was close to my previous richmond time. no idea if i had PR’ed or not (i ended up PR’ing- by 3 seconds lol).

a volunteer put that coveted medal around my neck. i was wrapped up in a space blanket and set out to stand in the cold and rain while i waited for my family lol (literally worse than the marathon, honestly). when logan finally located me, we hurried home so i could sit in a boiling hot bath and defrost.

we celebrated at a cute little restaurant in jamaica plain that evening (as recommended by @lauralovegoods) and i high-fived other runners who had come in to celebrate too.

i know this was long-winded and if you read all of this- i love you. the amount of support i received from all of you wonderful humans throughout the entire process just blows me away. i received so many encouraging and exciting messages leading up to boston and so many congratulatory messages afterward. i also just want to give a major shout out to the incredible volunteers and spectators. these people make the boston marathon great. these people stood out in the pouring rain and cold so that others could achieve their dreams. they’re the real MVPs and their selflessness astounds me- something i’ll never be able to convey in words.

i didn’t end up getting my 3:15, as planned. but that’s okay. i gave it my all and am so happy i was able to achieve such a solid time in such brutal race conditions. i know if the weather had been more ideal, i would have taken that 3:15 by the horns.

i’ll be back next year, boston. ya won me over before it even started.

#boston marathon #boston 2018 #boston recap #runner #run #running

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musicofthenightphantomoftheopera · 6 years

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Dear Voltron Fandom (an open letter)

Dear Voltron Fandom,

You don’t know me, but I know you. Before I get into this, allow me to introduce myself so I’m not a stranger. My name is Paiton. I’m 19 years old, and I have high functioning autism, and the character I relate to and love the most is Pidge. I have traversed through many a fandom in my life so far. From Avatar:The Last Airbender, to Sailor Moon, Steven Universe, Disney, you name it! All of these fandoms are loving and wonderful in their own way. However, every fandom has a dark side; It’s just the nature of fandoms, unfortunately. Despite that, I was able to look past that, and be proud to be a part of them! But NEVER have I EVER been more ashamed of being in a fandom when I got dragged into Voltron. Before that, I heard rumors of how toxic the fandom was and all of the crazy stunts some fans tried to pull in order to get what they wanted into the show. So, I tried to avoid the show and its fandom like the plague at all costs.Two months went by and my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to check out the show just to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out I really liked the show and Pidge quickly became my favorite! Hell, I even started a Pidge Ita Bag; just added the first charm to it a couple of days ago! I started out just keeping to myself on my quiet little tumblr blog just reblogging fan art and fics as well as interesting theories and talking to my friends about it. And I can’t forget about buying Voltron fan swag! All was well, despite the occasional bits popping up about the latest fandom disasters. That is up until quite recently. I thought I had seen it all when I had to fight to defend Sailor Moon fans that were being bashed for liking Sailor Moon Crystal or for getting into Sailor Moon in general because of Crystal. I thought I had seen it all when I saw SOULESS Steven Universe “fans” telling an artist to kill herself for drawing Rose Quartz skinny. I thought I had seen it all when I saw the Brony fandom in general. But this....sending death threats to the voice actors and their families, blackmailing the creators in order yo make Klance canon, and a rumor that some antis were burning fanart?! This is absolutely UNACCEPTABLE! To those who participated in ANY of these horrible actions or any other crimes against the fandom, you ought to be ASHAMED of yourselves! Your actions are SHAMEFUL and you should /feel/ ASHAMED. People like you are a disgrace to this and every other fandom out there. You are the reason why the Voltron fandom has such a bad reputation. Now for the sake of this not being me dragging the voltron fandom for the entirety of however long this is going to be, I’m going to play devil’s advocate for a minute or two. I know that not everyone in the Voltron fandom is bad. Hell, my best friend is a Klance shipper and a Lance fangirl and she’s one of the chillest Voltron fans I know! And you want your ships to be canon, I get it. Every fan wants their ship to be canon, weather its a strait, or LGBTQ+ ship. We need more LGBTQ+ representation in...well, pretty much everything really. And it is coming. Its getting there, but its gradual and you have to be patient! “Patience yields focus” , in the immortal words of our beloved Space Dad. But I also understand that fandoms can change things as well. The first example that comes to mind is Kim Possible if any of you reading this are old enough to remember. When Kim and Ron finally got together in the movie that was supposed to be the series finale, the fans flipped every last crumb of their shit and wrote in, demanding another season. And another season they got, ending with Kim and Ron graduating high school. So fandoms /can/ change things, but this.... Blackmail, death threats, is NOT the way to do it! If anything, stuff like that will steer people away from creating representation just because of the sheer mass hysteria it causes within fandoms! Its the toxic people in the Voltron fandom that pull this sort of stuff that steered me away from the show in the first place. To the toxic people in the Voltron fandom who call themselves proud members of the community. You know who you are. I am calling all of you out. You are not fans. You are bullies. Plain and simple. The kind that beat up the little kid with glasses and stuff them in a locker for being a nerd. The kind that steals lunch money in the cafeteria when the teacher isn’t looking. The kind that spread awful rumors about that shy little girl that likes anime, telling her that nobody would care if she died, only worse. You are the very same kind of bullies that I tried to get away from by joining fandoms (supposedly an accepting environment for people who are different and like the same stuff) in the first place. Now I am the kind of person that doesn’t have a temper. However, stuff like this is one of the very few things that get me righteously pissed off. But I don’t yell, or scream, or punch a wall. Instead, I channel that anger into fuel I can use for something else. Which is what made me write this open letter to you, the Voltron fandom. Like I said earlier, not everyone in the Voltron fandom is bad. To all of those that just enjoy the show and respect other people’s ships, or don’t give a dam about ships at all. thank you for being decent human beings and trying to clean up the mess these toxic, souless antis made of our fandom. After seeing all of this I can tell you that I am officially 1000% DONE with this bull. So I am calling the antis out. Consider this a reality check for ALL of you. This is a fucking CARTOON. The people you are shipping so feverishly together are fictional characters. Underline the word “Fictional” as in “not real”. At the end of the day, they are just a bunch of lines and colors moving frame by frame and voiced by real human beings with feelings. They are not above emotions like some of you idiots think they are. When are you going to get it through your tiny brain cases you call heads that how you are acting is childish, immature, and just plain sadistic?! I want to get something strait right now. I do not hate the voltron fandom, not at all. I hate what its become. These horrible antis and haters and toxic people are infecting the fandom like a deadly disease; like a fast spreading plague that causes the slow and painful death of its victum. However, unlike the real Black Plague, there is a cure! And a contagious one at that! So I’m sending out a call to action to every decent human being in the fandom! Those who are here just to enjoy the show for what it is with other people and have a good time, the older fans who got into Voltron: Legendary Defenders because they grew up with the older versions, the Multishippers, those who are respectful of other people’s ships,, or don’t give a dam about shipping at all, as well as those who keep their accounts as safe spaces for all fans. Do your girl a solid and help make the Voltron fandom a better place. Please, be a voice for good. If you see a fan getting harassed by an anti, just politely shut them down. Don’t go full on Leroy Jenkins and fight back, don’t feed the trolls, guys! Just politely tell them to back off and ignore them after that. Then, turn around and try to cheer up the person who got harassed! Share your favorite fan art pieces with them or give them fic recommendations! Who knows, you just might make a new friend! If you see someone you follow on any social media platform doing any of the bullshit I’ve previously mentioned earlier, unfollow them immediately. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life and neither does anybody else. Let your followers know that your account is a safe space for all decent Voltron fans to geek out and that there is a ZERO TOLERANCE policy for antis. If someone disagrees with you on your ship or theory, politely ask them to explain their reasoning in a civil manner. Get a dialogue going so the whole thing doesn’t turn into an all out screaming match. It can be done, people! It is possible! It just takes a little effort. It may take some time, hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but I beleive we can fix the fandom if we all work together. Now I also want to take a moment to send a message. To the voice actors of Voltron; Bex taylor Klaus (My Queen), Jeremy Shada, Steven Yeun, Josh Keiton, Kimberly Brooks, Tyler Labine, Rhys Darby, and A.J. Locascio. To the Co-Creators of Voltron; Joaquim Dos Santos and Lauren Montgomery. I am not apologizing for the actions of the toxic part of the fandom (that’s a mess they gotta clean up themselves), but I am speaking for the good part of the fandom and myself when I say that we apologize for what these souless people have put you through. Nobody should ever have to go through that just some people want a small sense of validation in their ship being canon. We love all of you and we hope that you can find it in your hearts to give the fandom a chance to redeem itself. I wrote this in hopes of waking some people up and start to to change things for the better. At least that’s what I hope will come of this rant that I wrote all in one sitting at 4 am. Just know that we all love and respect you and I am going to try my hardest to help change this fandom for the better with the help of my friends and followers, as well as the rest of the fandom that actually has a soul and a conscience. We are going to try and remind everyone that we are all on the same side. We all love the same show and the same characters and the same story. After all, we’re all made up of the same cosmic dust.

signed,

Paiton

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What Jerry Brown Could Teach Joe Biden

President Biden moved into the White House this week, replacing a leader whose constant need to command attention left millions of American exhausted by the nonstop spectacle and facing a seemingly unparalleled set of challenges.

But a decade ago and 3,000 miles away, there actually was something of an analog: another septuagenarian career politician and elder statesman swept back into high office after the tumultuous tenure of a political outsider. It was Jerry Brown, and his second act as California governor, in which he promised a return to stability after Arnold Schwarzenegger, offers a road map for Mr. Biden.

“I’ve been around as long as Joe Biden,” Mr. Brown, now 82, said in an interview this week. “Somewhere it dawns on a politician. Tenth year? Twentieth year? Thirtieth year? Certainly by the 40th year in politics.”

“Exposure,” he said, “is a mixed blessing.”

He was talking about the need to selectively make public pronouncements — the strategy of say less, be heard more that he deployed to great effect in the sunset years of his career, one that the famously philosophizing former governor believes would serve Mr. Biden well now.

“The essence of any kind of creation is there are limits, and you have to understand the limits,” Mr. Brown said. “You need content, but you need shape. You don’t want shapelessness. Episodic fragmentary buzz bits of public presentation — that’s not leadership.”

“Anyway, this is like Politics 101,” he volunteered.

Few figures in American politics have the durability and longevity to match Mr. Brown, who first won statewide office in 1970, or Mr. Biden, who won his Senate seat in 1972. Mr. Brown was both California’s oldest governor and its youngest one in modern times; Mr. Biden is the oldest American president and was one of the youngest senators ever to serve.

And voters returned both men to executive office, in 2011 and 2021, at perilous and precarious moments.

For Mr. Brown, it was a budget crisis so crippling that California had resorted to issuing i.o.u.s to stay solvent. The state’s acclaimed historian Kevin Starr lamented that it was at risk of becoming the nation’s “first failed state.”

For Mr. Biden, it is a coronavirus pandemic that has cost 400,000 lives in the United States, precipitated an economic and joblessness crisis and exacerbated and exposed racial and social inequities. He also inherits a nation so ideologically split that supporters of former President Donald J. Trump laid siege to the Capitol building in a violent riot this month.

Then and now, voters were weary and worn down.

“There is a real parallel,” said Steve Glazer, Mr. Brown’s 2010 campaign manager and a senior political adviser early in his governorship. “Arnold was in front of the camera all the time — and Trump with his tweeting.”

So when Mr. Brown took over, he kept a relatively limited public presence early on. The few pronouncements he did make — banning government-produced swag, curbing state cellphone use, limiting taxpayer-funded cars — were more symbolic than fiscally significant. They aimed to build back trust that government could work.

“You can’t project leadership with a smorgasbord dinner,” Mr. Brown said. “You’ve got to have focus.”

Mr. Biden had already embraced restraint as a political tactic throughout much of 2020. He adhered to a limited schedule for months amid intense second-guessing by fellow Democrats about his lie-low strategy during the pandemic. And even once he returned to the trail after Labor Day, Mr. Biden was happy to let the self-sabotaging Mr. Trump drive down his approval ratings by hogging the spotlight.

The Biden Administration

Updated

Jan. 22, 2021, 1:25 a.m. ET

Mr. Brown had faced his own Democratic hand-wringing in the 2010 race. He let Meg Whitman, his billionaire Republican rival, air millions of dollars of unanswered television ads that summer, only to emerge that fall, quite counterintuitively, as a fresh face for voters sick of the deluge.

“He didn’t have the millennial-ish urge to have everyone watch his every breath and every motion,” said Ace Smith, a longtime political adviser to Mr. Brown who has also worked with Vice President Kamala Harris, until recently a senator from California. “It was refreshing in California, and it’s going to be incredibly refreshing for a fully exhausted country.”

Mr. Brown and Mr. Biden are very different politicians, but both are throwbacks. They share a love for a good quotation. Mr. Biden prefers Irish poetry; Mr. Brown favors Latin proverbs.

Despite their decades of overlap, they are not particularly close, having worked on different coasts and in different institutions. “Fine,” Mr. Brown said in summing up their relationship. “I get along with him fine.” They have combined to make six runs for president — covering half of the presidential elections since 1976 — yet never once overlapped with each other as rivals.

Since the November election, Mr. Brown has connected with Ms. Harris, but not with Mr. Biden. In a twist, Mr. Biden did recently speak with Mr. Schwarzenegger, who has emerged as a withering Republican critic of Mr. Trump and whose recent video denouncing him and the Capitol mob was viewed more than 38 million times on Twitter.

“They’re not waiting for my disquisition on the state of the world,” Mr. Brown said with self-aware earnestness. (Still, he did recently send Mr. Biden a public letter about the urgency of prioritizing nuclear disarmament talks with Russia; Mr. Brown serves as executive chair of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, best known as the operators of the Doomsday Clock.)

In Sacramento, Mr. Brown earned a reputation for his willingness to deny the Democratic-controlled state Legislature’s most progressive wishes — a moderating role that Mr. Biden has been cast to play in the next two years given Democratic control of Congress.

But Mr. Brown warned that Mr. Biden should not shy away from big goals, especially on climate change and the economy. He called for a “Rooseveltian” level of public investment and suggested that aiming too low would pose a far graver risk than aiming too high.

“It’s awfully hard when you only have 50 votes to have much overreach,” he said of the evenly split Senate. “I think underreach is a greater challenge.”

If that sounds like something of a surprise coming from a governor who defined his tenure with austerity gestures, Mr. Glazer said it shouldn’t, because the two courses of action are flip sides of the same coin: building back public trust.

“It’s not a right-left issue of spending versus frugality,” Mr. Glazer said. “It’s creating that bond of focus.”

Perhaps the clearest lesson of Mr. Brown’s second tenure as governor, which was not without its blemishes, is that successfully steering the government toward competence can create its own political momentum. After two years of budgetary austerity, he championed a tax increase that voters approved.

He left office in 2019 with a huge surplus and a rainy-day fund — a full inversion of the crisis he inherited.

In the White House, the Biden team is well aware that no volume of public speeches or news releases will prove a substitute in the long run for accelerating coronavirus vaccination rates or reducing unemployment.

By the end of the wide-ranging interview, it sounded as if Mr. Brown was zeroing in on his own defining theme for the task ahead for the Biden administration. “We got some big changes to be made,” he said, “but they’re all in the direction of stability.”

“Stability and civility,” Mr. Brown declared with an almost palpable sense of satisfaction. “That would be good.”

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