#I spent 4 months making this drawing because of procrastination

[onsukun]

[l0yalkn1ght]

I've always had an insatiable urge to create. From as long as I can remember, I've been interested in expressing myself through various mediums, though none have been as successful as my writing. I can attest to producing four unpublished novels and a constant growing number of "beginnings," as I like to call them. But I've always yearned to teach myself how to draw.  There's just something magical about visual modes of expression that always amazes me.

My elementary school had a pretty decent art program, which eventually led me to take a drawing class in high school. The teacher let us sit wherever we wanted, so I chose to take up space at a table with my friends. This was a big mistake for me because I wasn't fully aware just how talented my two friends were when I decided to share the space with them. Most of the time while we were working on the various assignments, I kept silently comparing my work with theirs and this filled me with a sense of doubt. Near the end of the year, another teacher approached my friends about joining an advanced class for the next year, and it became sort of an inside joke that I was the only one at the table that didn't get this privilege. When it was time to pick classes for the next school year, my mind was racked with doubt and shame, so I decided not to pursue the Drawing 2 class, thinking my time was better spent on other subjects. It's one of my biggest regrets that still creeps up on me when I'm sitting in bed staring up at my popcorn-less ceiling.

Although I'm not really sure how I stumbled upon it, I ended up purchasing Alex Huneycutt's Solo Artist course a few months back. Since then, I have been letting my fear of failure get the better of me. Procrastination loves to munch on this fear because it's always more convenient to not do what drives you, no matter how bad you want it. But it is something I want to do. I want it more than Pacman wants dots, Gordon Freeman wants crowbars, and Bowser wants Peach. But if I go it alone, I'll need some accountability so that I stick to the entire course.

That's where this blog comes in.

I'm going to start Term One of the course this month, even though I get chills just thinking about it. I plan to spend at least 4 weeks on each Unit, but might repeat one if I think there is more to be learned from that topic. I'll try to write a post at least once a week summarizing what I did, what I learned, and showing off pictures of the art I did. This should (hopefully) light a fire under my ass to get started on this long odyssey.

Can't wait to start making progress on my art journey!

[randomguywithwords]

Author’s Note about ATDS and me, I guess

I left off at chapter 25 around last year in January, I think? I faced the usual problems that writers face. Writer’s block and in particular, writing a romantic atmosphere.

Not to seem pitiful, but I am single and have been for basically forever. I was briefly in a relationship with someone I liked but we never made it official, and eventually things went sour and cold after graduating. In terms of romantic experiences, I had little in my pocket to draw from. So that made writing c25 and c26 extra hard (and just the story from that point on since the couple had finally become a couple).

On top of that it wasn’t a conventional couple. Both didn’t have experience with being in love, having a normal adolescence where they would conventionally discover themselves and their affections for others. So I did a lot of thinking about how society shapes our thoughts as well as a primal desire to show and receive love. I briefly wondered whether I was getting in way over my head, but eventually I just said fuck it, I’ll put it in. I don’t know whether people could see it they way I did. I still don’t.

Another thing was Hawks’ death, which I had always planned. Honestly his death scene was one of the only chapters which I was satisfied with. I wanted him to go out with a fight worthy of the no.2 hero. I hope I did him justice, and the aftermath befitting the state of emergency.

It should be noted that I was being a procrastinating asshole that should have skipped the romance part which I was having issues with and begin writing the parts I could (ie, the hawks Shigaraki fight scene).

And I’ll briefly touch on what I’ve been doing this year and a half. I did a part time as admin at an office, started my 2-year, still ongoing, mandatory conscription into the government service. Doing admin work at an agency right now after a 2.5 month basic training from last year April to June.

On some days I was busy as hell, and on other days I did have time to write, but again, procrastination. I did feel guilty; I still do. But the human mind does wonders in justifying your self-centredness.

And I know at the end of the day, it is my story that I choose to share. But like with YouTubers, streamers and celebrities, amateur or professional, it is a two way street in some aspects. And I failed to deliver.

I chose to go into radio silence mainly because I felt guilty. I did want to post things but after not uploading anything for so long and breaking promises, I felt that I shouldn’t act like nothings happening by just posting other stuff that wasn’t ATDS.

I broke it nearing the end of 2021 because I genuinely thought I could finish the story by then. I had written up to ch.30 at that point and figured I had maybe 3-4 left. But eventually I realised I had more to write and forcing it to end in that time wouldn’t make it a satisfying ending for anyone.

But it is worth noting that I probably had an unconscious mentality to just finish it, the same way I think Horikoshi is feeling towards BNHA right now. So if that made its way into the chapters that you notice, it’s probably why.

I wish I did have the patience to just write it all out the way I originally envisioned it, but after brainstorming alternative endings and plot progressions I guess I kept the pieces that were faster than others.

I don’t think the plot is completely messy, but I’m not in any way a good judge of that. Obviously the storyline would make sense to me. I wrote the thing. I hope that I’ve managed to translate these thoughts into coherent writing.

Another thing that pushed me to finish writing was that I wanted to start on other projects. Already I doomed myself by starting that 3 part Kamijirou fic that I still want to finish, as well as Thanks For The Assist, that MonoKendou fic.

Not to mention other ideas in other fandoms. Which brings me to Genshin, wherein I spent a lot of my time on. I have ideas I want to flesh out, so I told myself to finish ATDS first before doing all that.

I can’t blame you if you’re disappointed that this is why I took so long. I feel the same towards myself. Sorry.

Regarding the rest of the ATDS, obviously I’m finishing it. If it wasn’t clear. But giving a timeframe when I’m so volatile in my writing schedule and mental state isn’t a great idea. Didn’t work out the last time I gave a deadline for myself.

I guess that’s all from me about this.

[15megapixels]

✨My Art Summary of 2021! ✨

As a tradition and story time, reflections and thoughts on my art journey this year are below the cut, with the bonus of some exciting announcements too :)

If there are a few takeaways from what I learned as this year ends, it’s the fact that I learned how to be kind and take care of myself more often. Back then I was so scared because I started the year by resigning from a stable job, the pandemic still out there, but this year just tossed most of the anxiety away and I’m glad I made the right choice. I’m happier.

As someone who is not an art major graduate (as my parents back then wanted me to have graduated from a course that has higher chances of getting a job + I’m living in a country where art is underappreciated), pursuing my passion in art (specifically Multimedia Arts) is risky and prone to have struggles ahead. But hey, who’s to stop me if I know the means to get there?

“You said you resigned from your previous job last year, how’s everything going now?”

Can you believe me if I told you I have been in 4 industries all throughout my three year work experience in one company? Yep. That first job of mine is actually where I started as an intern, eventually got absorbed, got a regular position, then moved to different departments doing jobs that I didn’t know I was good at. During that time young me was so engrossed in the idea that “hey! I'm a jack-of-all-trades kind of an employee!”, "i'm so flexible!" and “this is the adult working life! Relentless hustle and bustle here we gooo-"

Then bam three years in I was already so bored and exhausted. Not to get into the nitty gritty of that part, but I knew I had to leave when I realized that after almost all my workmates are resigning and I’m working as a one man department – my mind went “oh boy, I don’t want to retire in this place, I gotta yeet this job...”

So here am I, out here, figuring out what I really wanted to do in life. I know I want to make content, I want to draw, design, edit videos, learn about other mediums – things that will give me the adrenaline rush (similar to when I make content in my blogs) and make me feel that I’m working on something that I love and happy about.

Fast forward a bit, after a few months being unemployed, i knew then that I was not yet ready to jump back into another corporate job (though I tried to submit some resumes mid-year), so I decided to become a Freelancer. Currently, I’m a self-employed Graphic Artist cum Content Creator now, whose studying and researching lot of things along the way haha (soo, if I’m not making content here, I’m actually creating content for small businesses out there or mostly just living life 😅)

"I learned how to take care of myself."

Oh man, it was hard. It was hard specially I had to do that by myself (short bg: i considered at some point to go to therapy due to my past traumas and anxiety, but the voice in me that says “I want to take time to reflect on and understand what I’m feeling” & “I think I can still figure this out myself” are stronger so I decided not to). Working non-stop back then left me burnout and restless in everything during the first three months of my post-job resignation.

I was always too hard on myself every time I spend playing a game/ watching a movie for hours and labeling myself as “lazy procrastinator”, despite the fact that I’m just resting. I realized I’m being too much of an over thinker that I forget to enjoy the present. I also tend to fit and finish too much tasks on a day because I was afraid that I’m wasting time. I was afraid that being complacent meant bad things will happen soon and I fear that I won’t be ready for that.

I created my own mental hell for myself :(

One small incident that turned my self-loathing around was when I accidentally permanently deleted everything on my desktop– I was so pissed and angry at myself (I even deleted some of my sister’s homeworks too). I apologized and spent my entire day that day researching “how to restore files” like an uneducated IT, and I was just – all over the place.

The night of that very same day, I thought of myself something different. “I’ll treat myself some milktea”, as I purchased extras too for my sisters as consolation. I kid you not, and it’s so hilarious thinking about it now – I teared up sipping my milktea as I slowly come to my senses and think “Is this how it feels to reward yourself even if you made a mistake?” & “that I can forgive myself on small things and it felt good?”, i found the truth wherein you don’t always have to treat yourself if only you did something right. You deserve to feel loved by yourself despite your mistakes, failures, and imperfections 💖 Sometimes you can just be.

From that day on, I decided to rethink how I see myself. I admit it’s still in the works, and I’m happy to have made some progress. Baby steps. Baby steps. Self-healing is not an overnight process.

On a spiritual/religious aspect, it really also helped when I finally got my chance to go to a confession with a priest. There were also a lot of things that I finally rid off my chest the past two years 💜

Art Accomplishment, Progress, and Improvements

Freelance has its own pros and cons, especially in terms of salary as you continuously look for the next project and all that. Thank God, one of my clients became my regulars and they were very nice and considerate of me every time I ask if I can “take a break so I can replenish my creative juices”.

In the span of this year, I was able to create a different routine for myself where I work 3-5 hours a day, 3-4 times a week, without distractions (if not working/ I’m studying on my own), take a break, do some chores, then go out for a walk to have a change of pace. I like it. It’s peaceful.

So with all the effort and money saving stuff I did – I’m so proud of myself to have brought an ipad, studying about drawing and animating on procreate (and the apple pencil came in later lmao, but still!!) not to mention the extra support and trust you guys gave me when I asked some extra funds for the accessories 💕

Its funny that most of the time I’m sketching and touching my ipad case/ using my Bluetooth keyboard my mind is like “people on the other part of the world who don’t personally know you loves what you’re doing, bro” – and I’m always thankful for that 😊

In terms of my art style, I’m still experimenting a lot, my works from September 2021 are my favorite ones as I was using 3D models as a part of the process and lesser layers that changed my approach to digital painting. I’m not really panicking in terms of finding my “one true art style”, but I’m more of looking at focusing on my work process and consistency.

What’s in for next year?

All in all, things are turning around for me, though I know i'm still on a transitional phase. I feel like I would still be giving my Freelance thing going on for a couple of months, improve on my portfolio, and try to apply for a job in the creative industry. Please pray for me to land on a job that is fulfilling and pays well (/TToTT)/

For my art blogs & accounts, I’ll still try my best to be active as much as I can. Although I might be saying goodbye to my ml side blog (I mean, I won’t delete it but, I won’t be too involved in the fandom as much as I used to in S2 & S3 - like organizing events and posting every day- as I prefer now to be a casual fan of the show)

For now, I’m working on the next parts of my lukagami snekmouse au, then the Miraculous Animatic Project I’m working on will be released soon, an upcoming DTIYs on my instagram will be up as soon as I reach 1.5K follows there, AND I’m thinking of creating subscription tiers on my Ko-fi – It’s still an abstract idea as of now but – I’m thinking of subscription tiers involving sharing exclusive content like: my unpublished sketches/ ideas, monthly compiled pdfs of my random doodles, free art tips/ consultations, early sneak peaks to my upcoming works, and more!

I guess that's it for now and thank you for reading until here.

See you around in this site and looking forward to making more content for you guys next year 🤗

-jv🥚

[bearbaitmegs]

I know I don’t have a lot of active followers here, but I’ve been going though some major changes in my life recently (both good and/or disorienting), and one of the things I am aiming to achieve with that is to reestablish myself online in some small way. Just casually, socially. I used to enjoy interacting and making friends online and some of my oldest friends remain people that I met through the web.

I hope these sporadic personal posts don’t bother you.

I think part of these changes that I’m aspiring to involve getting into the habit of simply posting more. I honestly am unsure of where to migrate to online outside of Tumblr. I’ve ditched Facebook except to check on businesses I’m planning on visiting and occasionally to sell something. I’m only on Snapchat and Instagram to follow one person. I haven’t logged into DeviantArt in almost 10 years. Yahoo 360 is long gone. Adjusting to Discord has been a slow and lurking process because it reminds me of some particularly haunting memories and it lacks most topics I’d be interested in (publicly, at least). Twitter never fit right. I refuse to engage with people on Ao3 or ffn because I’m very hesitant to engage with people who has the same media interests as I do because I’ve had far too much fandom-related trauma and drama and I still have trouble forming friend groups despite 9 years of distance

My brother has an undiagnosed and untreated personality disorder and it has often felt like his drama has been my defining feature for almost 2 years. I have gotten tired of carrying his monkey into all of my relationships and conversations, especially when trying to make new ones. I wish I had custody of my nephew because he and his ex are both sucky and neglectful, but all I can do is wait until the kid turns 18 or asks about emancipation. My brother deliberately seeks out relationships that renew and reinforce his past traumas in order to legitimize his unwillingness to move on and I hold him at least partially responsible for our parents’ decline in emotional, financial, and physical health. I recently opted to go for No Contact/Very Low Contact with him and it’s been freeing and refreshing and I feel immensely happier and more motivated. 

I frequently feel like I don’t have anything worth saying or cannot really think of anything to say. It’s a work in progress. I have always carried a sense of awkwardness and that continues to persist into my 30s, despite the fact that I generally consider myself a confident person. I’ve been in a romantic relationship for 5 years and it fulfills 95% of my social and emotional needs, which... I think has led to leaving many of my other relationships to pasture.

Instinctively, I want to reach out and rectify all of these relationships all at once. Of course, it doesn’t work that way, and in trying to pace myself I find I often procrastinate. I set myself a goal of reaching out to a friend per week, but it’s more like one every two weeks. I know some of us will pick up where we left off like we’ve never been apart. Some of my friends will have moved on and our re-connection will separate again because we’re just different now and I’m honestly not bothered by that. It’s normal. I just hesitate because I don’t know where to start even though the script should be so easy. I feel annoying and needy. “Hey, I hope you’re well! I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch. I was thinking of you today every day.” Ugh.

I’m pretty financially, mentally, and physically stable and have been for a while. I like my job and I’m paid very well! I like me! I like my hobbies and my apartment! I’ve worked very hard to get here and there’s really only a few key things I want to improve upon.

But somehow I feel like I’m rediscovering myself again. Like I was shut out of something and didn’t even realize there was a door. I’ve missed something. I’m naturally comfortable alone and tend to be willfully obtuse about things that don’t involve me only to get startled by them later.

I moved back to my hometown 2 years ago in order to introduce my partner to my family and be around for some major family events. It was supposed to be a 4 month summer visit. The family drama just never stopped and I’m just...still here. I can’t wait to leave, but I also don’t resent my hometown as much as I did when I left. It’s changing immensely, but so am I. I definitely won’t be able to afford to stay.

I had a patio garden over the summer and, while we hardly got our money’s worth out of it, it was pretty and tasty and fulfilling. A few of the plants are overwintering with us.

I still haven’t lived somewhere that allows me a pet, but I keep saving stray cats. 

I have way more fabric than I know what to do with from old clothes and dead ideas, but I finally tuned up my sewing machine and bought a set of sewing machine feet and I have lots of plans and ideas that I just need to sit down and actually execute. Especially embroidery.

I finally spent the damn $70 on an old school drawing tablet and took the time to download some free art programs. A modern tablet is still too much to budget for and a mouse and MS Paint is not enough. I do not know why it took me 10 freaking years when I’ve spent far more money on far less desirable luxuries.

I am hoping to find a decent enough mountain bike at a manageable price to do a long-distance cycling trip next year. If I don’t, I’ll divert to hiking a long-distance trail. I’ve never stopped craving spending weeks and weeks out in the woods with an overstuffed backpack since my first trek in 2016. I’m willing to go out of my way and budget hard to make it a reality on an annual basis.

I’m slowly picking away at my original story, JatGSL, a 10+ year Work In Progress, and I finally have a setting and characters that I feel good about and have a lot of fun imagining. I’m afraid to say much about it. It has dying androids and mushrooms and mythology and domesticated seals and braille and it takes place on a melted Antarctica. But my writing is a muscle long neglected and I don’t know if I’ll ever really get it back.

I sometimes think about moving some of my old fanfics over to Ao3 so they won’t be lost, but my old penname carries weight I’d rather not pick up and I don’t want to add anything else to JKR’s legacy and some of the things I wrote when I was 17-22 have aged pretty poorly. So, I hesitate and debate and do nothing.

I keep having simple, but neat ideas that nobody out in the market seems to be doing/making, but I lack the connections and knowledge to do anything with them.

My romantic partner is an amazingly perfect fit. Absolutely well-fitting, in-sync, mind-blowingly complementary in every way. I increasingly worry it might not last because my partner has 1 (ONE) key issue that I just can’t live with long term and if they can’t figure out a healthy way to cope I don’t know if I can go another 5 years dealing with it. I grew up with it. I won’t live with it.

It often feels odd to talk about myself (even here. even now) because I feel so much happier than I seem to be describing myself.

[mareliini]

(I post most of my art in insta nowadays. No link, but it's mareliiini, with three "i"s.)

Time to say final goodbyes to this hell year, as well for a full decade of art..

Year summary: like previous year, finding stuff to fill up some months was hard. I've had some big art bursts in early jan-feb, summer, and during autumn, when i produced several pieces in one sitting before fading into obscurity of life and knitting for months. My artistic balance has relied on to comic making schedule, honestly since 2011, so without that constant flow of crunching up pages weekly I was left wandering amiss and motivationless. I've always made a rule for myself with these yearly summaries, that I wont use comic pages unless there's nothing else that month to fill it up, and this year I couldn't even rely on that.

Decade summary: Started filling up the latter monstrosity of a dA meme back in 2014 and filling it up has been a yearly tradition ever since. It is so wild looking back. 2011 I had been in Uni for a year and haven't really drawn "seriously" ever, outside of private diary doodles and plastering my room with fish art (do not ask me about my finding nemo phase please) and surrealist charcoal renderings. Reliable access to internet and fandoms, and the whole culture of creating in those spaces is really what made me draw more reliably in the first place.

Home was always filled with art supplies (comes with dad being professional oil painter with a severe case of procrastination syndrome), so in a sense I've been priviledged for early and easy access to those... many gouaches and dip pen nibs I use still, are stolen from home drawers, not that I'd had had money to buy completely new art tech supplies on the fly. Only in recent years I've been comfortable enough with my income, that I could purchase better quality watercolor papers and ink sets, and not feel bad for using them regularily. For comic pages I still use cheaper paper, though that has been upgraded several times since the cheapest sketchbook paper I started with. You don't need Big Quality to make Good Art, but it makes the experience of making it a bit more fun.

Looking back, 2014 and 2015 seems to be most important turnaround time. I was breaking away from the mold I'd created my art identity around of, and growing tired of having story ideas but no original characters. I've had some in the early teen years, but I'd been comfortable for years with using pre-set characters from whatever fandom I was into at the time. And there's nothing wrong with that, I say as an avid fanfic reader, but at some point with making Hey it's summer! the frustration between story I wanted to tell and feel proud of, and the set of characters I had decided to work with, to the point of them being almost oc's in the au world, it just put everything in halt. I'm never going to finish HiS! because I cannot finish it with those characters, and cannot remove the story entirely from it's fandom roots even by made-up ocs. 2014 was largely spent on focusing oc's... I created a bunch of grandma characters for a story I'll never be clever enough to write, and then accidentally stumbled upon Jooel in a dream I wrote up and continued later (yeah they're there in 2014 row). I think most of Bus cast was created in that year, but I didn't have clear enough plan for it (and never had even during writing) untill some years and one cloud comic later.

2015 was Big Year for original writing, as well for everything else. Which is why I have to bring it up. As short detour as the tau fandom was, it granted me the first real friend group online, one which is still together now, give or take a few changes and dramas. It wasn't the main reason, but one of the big ones for me to get proper smart phone to keep connected to them outside evenings (biggest reason was neko atsume..... i wanted to feed my cats....). Cloud story was a wild experience I can never replicate, but also a memory I will always remember fondly. 2015 also was the year I started my three years government supported therapy, which I believe affected Bus a lot. I was really tired and couldn't bother to spent time to look for the perfect fit, so I ended up with a therapist who uh, I guess helped? some? Would not recommend my tactic but it was best I could do at the time. Before that bus had never been more than wild ride of found family tropes frollocing around finnish highways, it was a roadtrip story at heart with supposed collection of small moments of each character, of local problems and stories and people they meet with 4 equally written main characters. Therapy thethered it to one character and one town with whisps of its origin, but it provided a big supplement for the somewhat-working therapy sessions.

[brytmoon]

i feel like i'm being really annoying about it to ppl so i'm gonna vent here about struggles i have that might be undiagnosed adhd symptoms since i don't have a very big following except for two close friends (sorry y'all)

1. hygiene, such as brushing my teeth in the morning and showering, is hard. it's been hard my whole life but even now, i'll stare at myself in the mirror or scroll through my phone as i try to convince myself to brush my teeth. (this may or may not be related, but i hate going to the dentist, too.) with showering, it's hard to find the time. i always make sure to shower as often as possible (which is every other day, usually) or i make sure i don't smell if i haven't because i'm scared of having b.o. with both, i have to motivate myself to do it with fancy toothpastes and mouthwash or nice-smelling shower gels and lotions. I'm guessing this is executive dysfunction???

2. I've been incredibly disorganized my whole life. i once thought i had adhd when i was younger because of how disorganized i was. I've always had a super messy backpack and a super messy room (it's really messy rn) but i always know where everything is. i had a ds for at least ten years but lost it a couple months ago in the middle of playing it. where did it go???? i have no idea bruh. and i lose my phone all. the. time.

3. i'm terrible with procrastinating. turning in projects and essays at 11:59 after bullshitting it either all day or mere hours before the due date??? a constant. having failing homework grades and having ntis in every class, no matter how much i enjoy it??? a constant. i once did a whole project i hadn't started on until the morning of the due date. i worked on it while in other classes and at lunch and turned it in 3 minutes before the dropbox closed. anything that's not what i enjoy or zaps the fun out of what i enjoy, i procrastinate with. I've sat in front of the computer screen and almost cried so many times because i couldn't get myself to type up a scholarship essay, which OBVIOUSLY would greatly benefit me as a broke college student, but it doesn't matter bc my brain thinks it's boring so why not push it off?? because i procrastinate, i tend to overwhelm myself so much that i break down at least once when an assignment's due because I've formed a terrible habit of pushing myself to overexertion to get a project done that's meant to be done gradually.

4. bouncing off that last point, I'm terrible with time management and remembering events/due dates/assignments to complete. I've tried using schedule apps and alarms. I've tried to plan out my days. I've tried forming routines and habits to get things done at appropriate times and it doesn't work. that schedule app i downloaded and spent so much time filling out? completely forgotten in a week or two. i swipe away the notifications and pay no attention to them. since everything's virtual now, there have been important college information zoom calls, but i forget about them and miss them. i can't remember events, due dates, or assignments if i don't write them down. since i meet every other day or sometimes once a week for a specific class in college, i can easily forget something mentioned earlier that week that's due the next week over the weekend. i have to remember to write in my agenda in order to remember to do something important, which can be stressful and convoluted 🙃🙃 so my bad time management results in further procrastination and missed opportunities, which makes me feel awful about myself late at night when all i can think about is what i should've done better or differently.

5. chores and hobbies are... interesting. when i do get the energy or motivation to clean or draw, i will hyperfocus on them. if i finally feel like cleaning, I'll skip breakfast and/or lunch and won't take care of myself until I'm done. same happens with drawing. and as stupid or funny as it sounds, i find getting up to go pee so annoying!!!! I'm in the middle of doing something i FINALLY want to do and then i have to get up to go use the bathroom. i don't want to break my concentration bc it's an inconvenience. then with hobbies (y'know, things i want to do and enjoy) i procrastinate!! I've been trying to watch atla since everyone loves it and i like it too, but i put off watching it and other shows like crazy. i play instruments and love to do so, but don't practice very often and spend a couple hours doing so when i do because i remember how fun it is. when i do laundry, I'll remember to put the clothes in the washing machine and start it. but then I'll forget to either put them in the dryer, take them out of the dryer, or fold them. i often have to rewash loads because I'll forget they're in there or I'll have a pile of clothes sitting on my bed for days because i procrastinate with folding them and putting them up.

6. i am the most motivated and have the most energy at night. over the summer, I'd stay up until 4 or 5 am on a regular basis. I'd be the most productive during that time but my sleeping schedule would be so off because of it.

7. so people with adhd crave things that produce dopamine, right? well i snack on candy all the time. and i mean it when i say it's ALL THE TIME. my favorite one is red hots because they're crunchy and spicy. eating candy helps me focus and is probably a form of me seeking more stimulation, but it's bad because of my teeth hygiene issues and me hating to go to the dentist. i also can't do tasks quietly. i have to be listening to music or watching a video while working on something and there are times when i want to do both while working??? so now when i watch something or listen to music without working, i tend to need something to do so i scroll through Instagram while having the show on even though it makes me miss what's happening sometimes.

8. i don't really fidget much i don't think?? but i do weird stuff while listening to someone talk. in school, i often doodled on my worksheets and got in trouble for it. I'd draw eyes in the margins, characters I'm fixated on, squiggly lines, and would color in my o's. or while listening to a family member vent, i dance around or listen while scrolling through Instagram. i also have a baaad habit of picking at my skin (dermatillomania). I'd focus on picking scabs for a really long time when i was alone and bored and have scars on my face and legs from doing it. I've picked at my face since i was a kid and absent mindedly do it every day.

9. i can get quite distracted and have to ask for directions to be repeated because i won't hear them?? like my brain won't process what someone said until they say it again when i'm actually fully paying attention. my mom will ask me to run an errand for her and she'll need to repeat it to me because i'll get distracted while she's explaining or i'll forget what she said after walking away. i get off track in conversations a lot and can't really listen well when there's a lot of other noise going on, like in cafeterias. i'll be talking to one friend and hear another interesting conversation down the table and pause while speaking bc my attention shifted. i also can lose my train of thought quite easily when waiting to speak and forget what i was saying and not be able to remember it for the life of me. so I'll interrupt sometimes so i don't forget

10. when talking to friends, i feel like i talk about myself a lot. i like to use my personal experiences to connect with what they said and be empathetic to them, but i worry this comes off as being conceited. i heard that it might be an adhd thing i do to keep myself engaged in the conversation.

i think that's all of them??? I'm so sorry to anyone who has to scroll through all this jgjrjrj but i guess it's good to make note of this stuff in some way because i articulate my feelings better when typing instead of speaking. and this'll be helpful to reference when chatting with a future therapist which i will hopefully get soon! and if anyone sits through this and has any advice, I'm all ears!!

[coindraws]

just a random text post 😪

This is just going to be another rambling post because I don't really have anything better to do right now 😂 It's probably going to be a lot of whining, though. 

Anyway, I'm moving to France on Tuesday and starting university there on September 7th. Not sure how long it'll take me to get used to my new situation but at least it's only a 4 hour drive to my hometown instead of a 7 hour one like it was before. I think the biggest problem I'll be struggling with is the language and even though I had French in school and also graduated in it (written exam, that was always said to be the more difficult one and I agree, out of 154 students only 5 chose to do that and I only got a B-. I know, sad life and all 😔) that was back in 2017, so three years ago and I haven't really used French ever since. I might also be the only foreign student there that studies history, which has the potential to really suck. 

Apart from that I (almost) finished my Middle Ages essay and I just hope it still gets accepted but the prof never told us an actual date when we had to hand it in. The last information we received about that is from March, right before everything went down, and it said we'd have time until June but even that with some form of relaxation because nobody knows how the current situation is going to develop. The guidelines of my university propose a 2 week span of working on a 11 to 12 pages essay but I did it in the span of maybe three days, I just wanted to be finally done with it before I move to another country and I've procrastinated long enough on that one 😂 For studying history this one was way too philosophical and theological but that's the fault of the Middle Ages, not mine. Spent 11 pages talking about religion because the dude I wrote about was a churchman who did all sorts of stuff. 

There's still a lot of stuff for me to sort out, apart from two other essays that I won't be able to finish before September 30th with everything that's coming up in my life and then also some bureaucracy things that I really don't want to tackle but I do need the help from the state to pay rent etc. 

I can't wait for 2020 to be finally over with, this year sucked hard for almost everybody and I remember how I thought in 2019 that 2020 was going to be a good year. Kind of ironic now that I think back but who could've known that things would turn out this way. 

And because I'm a loser I'm still into Stardew Valley and excited for the new update, I've been playing it a lot on my Switch just to escape since all that stress really killed my desire to draw and it's kind of hard getting back into it. Maybe having a normal university schedule will change that because it was almost impossible for me to feel inspired when all I did for the past few months was sit at home and endure zoom meetings and boring lectures. I know that moving to a different country isn't the best idea during this time but I can't really change it since it was planned to be like this from the very beginning, I was just unlucky for it to happen right now. Germany's doing fine so far but some of our neighboring countries are starting to struggle again and I'll have to keep an eye out on what the German government declares as risky regions to go to or not but so far the region in France where I'll move to is fine. 

Yadda yadda, real life problems aside, I'm still very glad that I decided to join the sdv community on here. Everyone's super nice as ever and while I have a lot of followers, there's still some names/icons that I recognize because I see some of you guys regularly in my notifications and I couldn't be happier about it 😤 After all this time the same people are still interested in the things I post and I'm so, so thankful for this. I know I've strayed away from making comics but that's mainly due to the fact that I tend to pull those from my real life experiences when I get inspired by something but that hasn't been the case this year. I don't know what makes you all still interested in Harvey and Coin but I'll take it. 

And as if this post hasn't been random enough already, I sometimes still think about all the support I received when I made Coin ace, that really means a lot to me. I don't know, I'm still not very open about that topic (in real life not at all) but it did encourage me to accept things that I maybe haven't in the past. 

With that being said, I'll end this post here it's way too long anyway but for everyone who made it this far, thanks. My ask box/messages are always open if you need somebody to talk to, I'm not intimidating I swear 

[writinginthesparetime]

A place far away pt7

pairing: actor!Park Haejin x student!reader

Warnings: famous!au ; college!au ; litte bit of swearing?

genre: fluff ;

chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

(If needed I will add more warnings and upload the genre tags in next chapters)

Summary:

So that’s how all started.

It was a rainy day in Seoul and I was the new girl in town. Precisely the new girl in college, just moved from europe to study abroad.

Little did I knew Seoul was not the only korean thing I’d fell in love with.

————————————————

21st November

“Lillian! Your caffelatte!”

I looked up from my books just a moment, only to see a girl holding two cups in her hands desperately trying to get her friend’s attention.

This cafeteria in the campus often looked like this: loud and busy. I didn’t enjoy spending my time there to study, but that morning only the idea of staying home made me sick.

I spent the last two weeks studying for three exams, now focusing on the last one of those. Class? Chemical behind the skincare.

I went back to my notes, looking at graphics and formulas well written, trying to revise some useful acids for peeling and the benefits of vitamin c for our skin.

I sipped my coffee and looked at the time. Almost 11 o’clock.

It was so weird to think that the whole campus had the free morning. Someone definitely decided to spend it in bed sleeping, someone just enjoyed their free time and someone, like me, chose to keep on studying.

I never wanted to be the best student, but indeed I wanted to prove myself I could. I just needed to tell myself so, and actually work hard. Luckily, lessons were interesting and I found myself being capable of getting on the top of class.

Even cooking class was satisfying.

In the table next to me, a group of girls were chatting loudly, all smiling and well dressed. They were talking about the real reason why morning classes were cancelled and most of the girls went on campus anyways. The reason they all wore their best dresses and used tons of makeup.

An idol.

Or someone famous.

Again.

Yes, if months ago there were some weird visit by an entertainment company, that morning was the confirmation of a collaboration with the college.

So, an idol in that exact moment was in one of my college’s class filming some stupid advertisement about some stupid product, probably to attract teenagers who are still influenced by whoever is in the commercial.

And it worked just fine.

I sighed lightly reading again the same phrase on my notes. “What’s uva and uvb rays? And how uv sun rays damage our skin?”

Let’s say in the morning, especially on these cold ones, the last thing I think of is putting sunscreen on.

Just waken up then, after embracing a sky full of clouds, that’s definitely not my first thought.

And suddenly I thought about Nana who was surely still sleeping in her warm bed.

I lost every kind of concentration, desolated I closed my books and stopped looking outside the window.

I still had some time before the first lesson started, but it was so obvious that I wasn’t able to keep on revising.

This exam looked infinitely long to study and I still had one to go before the end of the year.

And then I suddenly started thinking about that lesson, one month and a half ago. About that speech the teacher made, about working in a company.

I sank into the chair, trying to make myself as little as possible.

I didn’t know what to do with this information. All my classmates saw the list and picked their favourite company. Some girls, after reading important company names, even started to study more.

And I was the only one in the class who hasn’t choose yet. Well, I didn’t even decided about doing this work or not.

I was one of the best students, suitable for the opportunity, but I was afraid about the whole working and going to classes and studying for exams at the same time. I could have just failed.

Plus, I really couldn’t understand why we had to choose a company, I could really work everywhere they wanted.

I snorted.

I knew my time was almost over, I couldn’t keep on procrastinating. A teacher already stopped me in the hallways to know if I made up my mind. I simply run away.

And then I suddenly thought about the no-boys rule, that has been recently broken by Nana a week ago at a really late halloween party. She kept on saying that she didn’t really broke our promise since she make out with a girl, but we both knew the truth.

On the other hand, I didn’t date anyone, girl or boy. I kinda made friends with other classmates, even ended up in a project group with Jackson, who kept being an acquaintance.

That’s it.

That’s it, like any other Hae-jin story then.

I looked up.

Y/n, stop thinking about him.

Yet, sometimes his kind smile came back to mind.

And even how we never met in the last month and a half, after bumping into each other almost every week.

Slowly the voices in the cafe became quieter and many people left, dispersing in the campus.

I sipped my coffee and I saw myself reflected in the window.

My eyes were tired from the lack of sleep and my cheeks bright pink because of the cold November.

I wrapped myself in my blue hoodie, judging again my morning decision to choose comfort over style. Countless times Nana tried to find any item in my wardrobe to save my outfits, that are so basic to her.

Anyways I did find a trick: just wear an elegant coat over every outfit and suddenly I didn’t look like a mess. Not completely.

I noted mentally to go shopping as soon as my mother sent me some money.

I got up picking my things up and throwing them inside the backpack and, against my will, I exited the cafeteria heading to class to revise the next coming exam. I wasn’t prepared for it, neither for the day ahead.

While i was quickly walking i kept hearing people chat about what was going on in college, and i even saw some people randomly run through the campus, going wherever they heard the idol’s last location was.

And it was just one of those crowds that crushed me. I stumbled, getting hit by thousands hands and shoulders that tried to get me out of the way.

I was almost falling when I ended up crushing a girl, she quickly grabbed me by my shoulders, holding me.

“Everything’s okay?’ She asked worried.

This girl definitely looked older than me, well I could guess she wasn’t going to college anymore. Her neat appearance made me feel ashamed. Everything about her made me think she was one of those girls who really treated herself good.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I said softly and bowed at her. She took a step back, feeling the embarrassment between the two of us.

With her right hand, closed into holding two different phones, she moved a lock of hair with her pinkie.

Only then I noticed she was holding, with her other hand, a big brown leather briefcase. She kinda looked like a business woman, only her windbreaker didn’t suit her style: an huge stuffed one, long ‘till under her knees, with an embroidered word on her chest, probably the name of the company she was working for.

She quickly excused herself and left, not giving me enough time to read that word. I only saw the logo, made by three little triangles that reminded me of the three Giza’s pyramids.

“Y/n!” I heard my name being called while trying to walk in the hallway. “Wait, y/n!”

I turned around to where I thought this voice came, only to see Nana, of course, running to me. In a couple of seconds she joined me and, well, actually she bumped into me, with the biggest hug.

“Y/n-ah, you have no idea how it’s so good to wake up late, i feel so fresh!” Saying so she slapped her cheeks lightly.

“Lucky you.” I looked up.

“Oh my god, what are those? Eye-bags?”.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately.” I said shrugging my shoulders.

We walked side by side, in silence. Nana knew my weird sleeping habits, she knew it’s been weeks since I had a proper full night of sleep and, luckily, she knew when was the time to not say a word.

And I didn’t have to tell her more.

In the hallways people kept walking and talking, even louder than any other day, it was becoming annoying.

Everyone was frenetically moving, girls stopping mid walking looking at their phones, little half runs and continuously checking their hair.

I was getting curious to know who was the reason of this whole mess.

“Hold this: I have a concealer that matches your skin color.” Nana suddenly gave me her make-up trousse. We have so differently skin color, even different undertones, but I wasn’t shocked at all: we often tried make-up products together, even sharing them for fun. “If it’s not your color, you’re good enough to make it work it out. I know lately you’re not into this, but your eye-bags could literally scare the teacher.”

I smiled at her, knowing that she was trying to make me feel better and she definitely didn’t want me to look like a zombie.

We left in front of the class door, she headed inside to take seats while I just tried to remember where the closest toilet was.

Needless to say that I didn’t know at all: campus and buildings were huge, every lesson was taken in a different classroom and I still couldn’t orient myself. I only followed the signs.

I found myself walking for the whole hallway and after turning twice, fifty metres ahead, I ended up in a blind alley, with some doors on the sides.

Above one of them, a sign with a drawing of a lady. And behind that same door a group of girl exited the toilet. Coming across, we bowed slightly.

All of the sudden, behind myself I heard a soft sound, getting slowly louder until the rustle clearly turned into quick steps in the hallways.

I turned around confused, but I could only see me and the other four girls.

I was so focused on that sound which was gettin louder and kinda deafening because of the echo on the walls, that I didn’t notice I was slowly going backwards.

And when I turned, I didn’t have the time to clearly see the person I bumped into.

Raising my gaze, I saw some details.

A black button down shirt. A strong arm. Fine jawline.

And then the shoulder I literally crush into.

The man was taller than me so his shoulder was at the same height as my face, and because of my abrupt movement I ended up hitting him.

I got hurt on the side of my face, a strong smack at my right ear.

Suddenly my head started spinning, there was a loud strong whistle that kept shutting my thoughts. I stumbled untill I lied to the closest wall.

Every sound was padded. I brought my hands to my head, I could literally heard my blood angrily pulsing.

I didn’t know what was around me anymore. My vision was blurred, it was hard for me to focus on anything.

I ended up squeeze my eyes multiple times.

The man stopped, and I only knew because I couldn’t hear any close steps.

My legs were shaking and the whistle still there, not letting me think straight.

“Oh.” A manly voice that sounded so far away. “I am sorry.” His cold and formal words made me shiver.

The only thing I was thinking about was to find a quite place to sit, any place.

And then, like someone opened a door with air stream, steps and voices got louder.

The whistle left, letting me finally hear but every little sound now was painful as a stab. I looked up trying to recall the place, feeling the rough wall behind me.

I was so shocked to see a crowd of people coming towards me, and a man I could clearly see because he was taller than anyone. That man. He just run out to another hallway.

I didn’t see more because once I recognised the toilet door I only thought about laying on the little couch each bathroom in campus had.

I moved quickly.

I closed my eyes while sinking on it. Slowly I started feeling better, no more dizziness. My heartbeat was regular now.

Outside, finally the silence.

It still took me a couple of minutes before getting up. I decided to splash my face with some cold water and suddenly I felt a little better, more awake.

I could still clearly see how sick I looked.

Maybe it was time for that concealer to save me.

I quickly applied some makeup, trying to hide my dark eye-bags. I fixed my hair tying them up into a ponytail to look more clean.

“You look awful.” I whispered.

I exited the toilet and redo the same way backwards. Empty hallways and silences.

Only my steps echoing between the yellowish walls.

Three times I bumped into someone that morning. Three differs ways, three different people, three different pair of arms touched me.

Hold.

Loved.

Hurt.

Slightly bent over, I got closer to Nana who took a seat in the middle raw.

I tried to be as quiet as possible and to be the more invisible I could. The teacher already started the lesson and he was writing fast on the blackboard.

“Y/n, what happened?”

Nana asked after looking at the clock on the wall, and then at me. I let myself fall onto the chair, giving back her trousse.

“I don’t think I am feeling good, after class I am going home.”

I was slowly walking through the campus, heading to the exit while thinking about taking a long nap before getting back to study.

I needed to rest.

And i needed a painkiller for my headache.

“Miss. Y/l/n! Miss!” I heard a door slamming and quick steps. Beside me, my history of makeup’s teacher was closing our distance.

“Yes?” I asked. Behind him, inside the hallway people were talking and looking at us.

“I am truly sorry to disturb you, but I needed to know if you decided about the job. As I have already told you, this is the last week to sign up.”

“I am really thankful for your interest, but I haven’t had the time to look at the list, so I think I’ll have t-“ I couldn’t end the phrase because the teacher, after looking up for a folder and finding it inside his briefcase, interrupted me.

“Here it is.” He gave me the folder smiling.

“Honestly, I still won’t have the time to choose, I’m too busy studying for exams.”

“Miss y/l/n, that’s not the first time we talked about this.”

“I am truly sorry, I don’t think I’ll be able to study and work and attend classes, all together.”

“Miss, I never thought of you as a lazy person, but you know better than me that classes are ending soon and there are just a few exams to be taken. Do you really want to risk to lose this opportunity?”

“What if I can’t do it?”

“Miss, you’re on the top five of the class, we are positive you’ll be able to make it just fine. And if you won’t, we do not expect you to pass every exam this semester.”

“But it will be humiliat-“

“It will be more embarrassing to lose such an opportunity to work with professionals. I don’t want to force you, but I think you’ll regret this in the future.”

He kept smiling the whole time, trying maybe to reassure me, while his words were sharp.

I really just wanted to go home, forget about everything and sleep. Thinking too much made my headache stronger.

I raised my gaze, ignoring his face. Behind him, I could see some people staring.

“All I ask you is to think about it.”

I grabbed the folder and hold it tight.

I just needed to resist one more week, and wait for the deadline.

But the idea of meeting persistent teachers made me feel sick. More than I already was.

“Are you feeling good?” He asked worried, taking on step closer.

“Not really. Teacher, I don’t really have time to choose between the companies right now.”

“I have a proposal. Actually, you can even meet them now if yo-“ He stopped talking mid sentence. “A-are you feeling good? You look pale, do you need some water?”

“Thank you teacher, I just need to go home and rest.” I quickly smiled.

“Please, think about my proposal. I actually highlighted the company in the list and at the end of the folder I gave you some informations.”

He sounded so noisy.

“Okay okay. I surrender, I accept. Please send me via mail al the papers I need to fill and I’ll gave it back to you as soon as possible. But now, I really need to go.”

I quickly bowed and left, heading to the closest bus stop.

The headache was painful as ever. I found myself crying on my way home.

————————————————

A/n:

I am truly sorry, it took me ages to write this chapter. I keep on revising it because I think it’s kinda dark and sad: it resembles what happened in the last weeks.

AnywaysI hope you still like it, and please dm me if you want to be tagged in next chapters!

Look forwards to the next ones, they’re gonna be gooooooood!!

[kcostanz]

disclaimer: I’m going to be existential & sad before I turn it around

As 2020 wraps, I find myself increasingly absorbed by understanding the practices that I’m newly drawn to. The things I’ve chosen to connect with to get through what has certainly been the most unexpected year of my life, and perhaps that of billions of others. Even making such a grand statement still boggles my mind. Taking a moment to step outside of my life to acknowledge this global reality always gives much needed perspective. Life has been altered in wholly unforeseeable ways for billions of people this year. 

Exactly how our lives and worlds have been reshaped certainly looks different for each and every one of us. Our realities are constructed by so much: where we live, who we live with, what we do each day, our job, or the roles we play in society as a whole. Every life looks different, but the pandemic’s impact on these answers (and many more) is ever-changing and harshly felt. 

Reflecting on my own journey that has been navigating covid-19 and its impact on the world centers upon my age. Being 22 years old right now feels like constantly being stuck at a major life inflection point. In many ways I’m at the height of decision making- important ones at that, that will guide (the beginnings of) the rest of my life. Existential and perhaps a bit dramatic I know, but the pandemic exacerbates these emotions, so throw me a bone. 

I spent the first 21 years of my life on a set path, a regulated track that unknowingly provided an absurd amount of comfort. I went to public school K-12, graduated high school, and attended a 4-year institution, long awaiting the fantastical graduation year that for so long existed as a far-off fantasy: 2020. 

That momentous final semester was different than expected, but I can’t complain. I spent the last 3 months of college with a small handful of my closest friends, attended classes from the comfort of my bed, and graduated in my tiny apartment with two of my closest friends who hung around until the end. 

I procrastinated packing and cleaning my apartment until the last possible moment as my disapproving landlord approached to conduct the final walkthrough. Unsurprisingly, I left with a fraction of the security deposit, and the hard learned lesson that expo marker writing does not always come out of refrigerators (as the All Purpose spray, Oxi-Clean, bleach, hot water, soap, and eventually, shamefully, white paint can attest). 

With a egregiously packed car and zero rear view visibility, I was off. I blasted oldies with a twinge of liberation- I think I recall Born to Run (don’t worry, I am indeed embarrassed). I left all four windows down until I could no longer stand the sound of garbage bags flapping. Five short hours later I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home in Rochester, NY (with a broken mirror in the trunk no less- unsure if I’m superstitious but it felt like bad luck). 

The latter half of 2020- from June until now, has been full of unknowns, decision making in the dark, and hard fought self motivation. Vivid mixes of emotions old and new. 

First the dread of moving back in with parents as a young adult, and the stubborn resistance to fully unpack, so as to not get “too comfortable” at home. I now know such a thing is impossible for many reasons, one being that regardless of the lighting, art, and design, the girly pink walls of my childhood bedroom have proven immutable. 

Following this initial shock were extreme levels of self-induced pressure to find a job, do nothing but apply to jobs, and then bask in dejected feelings of never being able to get a job. While in the process, fully isolating myself from others, because I simultaneously felt I had too much to do, but yet was never really doing a thing. That concept has been fun to sit with. It comes with the realization that the carefree bliss of not having a single thing to do- say for a month long winter break- is officially gone. The list of things you could (and probably should) be doing is endless- welcome to the real world, Kate!

August was a blessed, beautiful month that, at the risk of (again) sounding dramatic, I am eternally grateful for. During this sweltering month I lived out of a car for nearly 3 weeks, camping with two pals throughout Utah and Wyoming. Even hitting a deer at 9pm, in a no-cell service zone, in the middle of a State Forest in Wyoming was a welcomed adventure at this point. A broken transmission, impromptu camping, two-hour tow truck ride, countless insurance calls, hostile car dealership conversations, two rental cars later, and we were back on track. This (incomplete) list of challenges provided beautiful life experience however, imparting lessons I could never fully know until I lived them. 

Returning home was as expected, a difficult transition back to monotony. Did I apply to vineyard jobs vaguely “out west?” Absolutely. Did I have it in me to go through with such a spontaneous life choice? Unfortunately not, though to my credit I did realize important goals that stood in the way of a dreamy vagabond existence. 

The fall has been a blur, and now there’s snow on the ground. I’ve found myself living for the future, and rarely ever for the moment, which is entirely antithetical to my personal philosophy. I have proclaimed my personal soundtrack to 2020 to be the loop of traditional Lebanese music that plays on repeat at my job as a server at Sinbad’s Mediterranean Cuisine (now as a takeout extraordinaire. And yes, despite the lack of in-person customers we are indeed instructed to play the CDs as per usual). This work, or my role as a part-time nanny is far from fulfilling (though the kids are darn cute), but that’s not the point for now. “At least I’m saving!” has been my most reliable source of positive encouragement, nearing personal mantra. 

I write this from my childhood bedroom, sitting at my desk, which was once our kitchen table circa 2002. It is as wobbly as it is sentimental, and I love it. The desk faces a window, the sill littered with glassware and candles because I have a thing against artificial light. I have a total of five notebooks, half opened, each containing swirling levels of thoughts, drawings, organization, calendars and to do lists. An orange caricature of a topless french woman sunbathing sits in front of me, reminding me that “TOUT VA BIEN!” (that everything is fine). And in minutes I will be dancing to the Moana soundtrack or drawing christmas trees and unicorns with 3 and 4 year olds. A snapshot of my life, at 22 years old, in 2020. 

Despite my life not being what I expected, or what I wanted it to look like as I embark on what’s supposed to be the most adventurous, spontaneous, and simply well-lived decade of my life, it is what it is, and as the french lady says, everything is fine. I have two part-time jobs, unforeseen savings, quality family time (both for better and for worse), my mom’s cooking, and a roof over my head. In a world with inconceivably high death tolls, rising unemployment and homelessness rates, and the constant, precarious fear of general loss, I have infinite blessings to count.

Life does feel like a giant waiting game though. How can one strategically plan out what comes next in their individual life when the entire world remains a massive question mark? In a time when we feel trapped, impatiently waiting for opportunities, experiences, and adventures to reopen, waiting feels hopeless. Because it is. If you’re unhappy with the opportunities before you, create your own.

I’m not saying I’m doing a stellar job at this myself- and as you can see I certainly struggle with my fair share of existential pessimism (day in and day out). But doing things has a certain electrifying feel that ignites and empowers you to build a meaningful life. I’m producing a web series with a group of similarly listless 20 somethings who are also doing their best to be creative and productive from the confines of their family homes. I’m practicing yoga and meditation really to cope with my own stress and internal anxieties, but in doing so am creating new habits and mindsets that will certainly outlast the pandemic. I’ve connected with a group of strangers by dancing to shamantic and electronica music in various outdoor locations throughout Rochester. Whoa! Never would I have imagined finding such deeply liberating peace through ecstatic dance of all things, but hey 2020 is full of surprises. 

This position I’m in is both uniquely my own through my personal experiences, and also shared by more people than I could imagine. Maybe only bits and pieces resonate with you, or maybe you are living your best life in the city of your dreams with a fabulous career in a lovely home with the world’s best roommates. But even if that’s you- you’re missing out on something too. The whole world is. We feel disconnected, disjointed, digitally controlled and consumed, and despite who we surround ourselves with- isolated. We’re stuck living in a world of “once this is over I’ll….” and no matter who you are it feels damn weird to spend so much time in your head dreaming of a future rather than living it out in the now. 

So… solutions? As we all know, you only have so much control during a global pandemic (very little to be exact). But what you can control is how you live your life during it. I certainly won’t preach to what works and pretend like I’ve figured it out- that work is no one’s to do but your own. But I do feel that so much comes down to mindset, perspective, mental health and ultimately finding ways to seek inner peace. 

Potential solutions are abundant, and have been explored by more people now than ever before. Though there is no recipe to conquer the inevitable fears, concerns and anxieties that accompany the pandemic and this phase of life, I’m interested in further exploring some of the ones that work for me. How is something as simple as breathing so helpful? 

Finding inner peace is a sought after skill in 2020. I have endless gratitude to all of the incredible humans who have served as a source of learning, and have helped me to tap into positive internal energy. My intention is to look into some of the causes of (my personal) covid-realted inner turmoil and the solutions that have brought some serenity into my life. Though they may not always be long lasting, some answers are better than none. Here’s to writing for no one, and thank you for listening. <3 

[seeaddywrite]

the miracle of us || advent day 4 for @roswellprompts

i think this qualifies as actual fluff?? someone tell me if i wrote real fluff?! i was procrastinating on some homework today & wanted to write something & happened to see someone reblog the advent post from roswellprompts, sooo i picked this one & wrote some echo. i hope someone enjoys it; i did! :) unbeta-ed & i didn’t even proofread, so i’m sure typos abound. sorry!

the prompt i chose was max + miracles, & i am like two hours early, oops?

“So you’re really not even going to put up a Christmas tree?” Liz asks, her fingers tangling with Max’s as they lounge on his couch. She’s reclining back against him, legs stretched out along his much longer ones, and the warmth of her skin is bleeding through the thin cotton of her tank top straight into his bare chest. It’s late, late enough that they should both be asleep or risk a long, exhausted next day, but Max can’t bring himself to move and break the bubble of quiet intimacy they’ve created.

Max sighs, a little dramatic, and tilts his head. “Have you been talking to my sister?” he asks suspiciously, enough of a twist to his lips for Liz to know that he’s teasing. Isobel had been over that morning -- and every morning, at least, since his return from the foggy, grey place he still isn’t quite willing to call death two weeks prior. As usual, she’d made a point of reminding Max that the holidays are only a few weeks out, and his living room is practically made for hosting the perfect Christmas meal. Whatever that means.

Liz chuckles quietly, seeming just as loathe to shatter the peaceful moment as Max. “She’s pretty disappointed she couldn’t pout and convince you to have a big party here,” she answers, turning so that she can nuzzle her cheek against his shoulder. “But putting up a tree doesn’t mean that you have to do that.” 

“I’ve never decorated this place for the holidays,” Max admits, shifting in the sofa so that Liz’s back aligns more comfortably against him. “I’ve always spent Christmas with my parents, at their place, so I never needed to. Mom and Isobel go crazy enough with the holly and tinsel for all of us.” 

It’s the truth, though not the whole of why Max isn’t particularly keen on celebrating this year. Not that Liz gives him a chance to try to hide that from her; he’s not sure whether there’s still some residual connection between them from his handprint, or if she’s just somehow able to read him that well, but she sits up and turns to face him, one eyebrow raised in askance. 

“And?” she prompts, certainty that Max had more to say coloring the word. “Come on, Max, you don’t expect me to believe Isobel’s upset because you’re planning on celebrating the same way you have for the last decade, do you?” 

The words hit in one of the tender spots left behind by Max’s absence for the last several months, and he drops Liz’s gaze, focusing on keeping his breath and countenance even. He’s mended most of the fences destroyed by the unwelcome sacrifice he made -- Isobel and Michael still watch him warily when they think he’s not looking, but they’ve both finally begun to accept that Max has no plans of going anywhere anytime soon and don’t seem quite as panicked when he goes for a walk on his own. Alex Manes and Maria both still look a little stunned when he walks into the room, like he’s a miracle made flesh, but thankfully, it never lasts more than a moment or two before they’re back to normal. Valenti is, mercifully, more concerned with the miracles Max can work with his hands, and Rosa is singularly unimpressed with anything he does, so there’s some normalcy to be found if he’s willing to look for it. 

Then, of course, there’s Liz. Liz, who’d been so incandescently furious with him when she dragged him back from the grey place that she had kissed him hard enough to draw blood, then only spoken to him in sharp, Spanish curses for at least three days before her barriers finally crumbled. Since then, Liz has spent every night in Max’s arms, no matter what her days brought, and Max won’t pretend that her steady presence hasn’t been keeping him sane as he stays hidden and secluded in the house. 

And that, the fact that he’s essentially a prisoner in his own home, is the crux of the holiday issue. 

“Max?” 

He looks back up at Liz, sighing at himself when he realizes he’d gone silent for too long again. Max knows he’s developed a tendency to get lost in thought since his return, and isn’t naive enough to think that the habit isn’t worrying the people who care about him. “Sorry,” he says quickly, reaching out to drag his fingertips across Liz’s cheek in a brief caress. “And you’re right. It’s not quite that simple.” He frowns, trying to choose the right words to explain without making it obvious that he’s feeling sorry for himself. “Obviously, I can’t go spend the holiday with my family this year, since they think I’m --” 

“Dead?” Liz supplies, and Max winces. 

He’s avoided using that word in relation to himself whenever possible, and it’s still strange to hear others use it, even though Isobel and Michael had thrown at him like a weapon after Liz’s serums somehow managed to bring him back. “You were fucking dead, Max! We all moved on without you!” from Michael’s lips is one that still haunts his nightmares, despite the apology he’d gotten a few days later. Because the truth is that Michael was right. The world had moved forward with Max for nearly a year. His family, his loved ones -- they’d all grieved and moved on, and now, no matter how happy they are to have him back, Max is stuck in limbo while they all live their lives. 

“Right,” he agrees quietly. “The town, my parents -- almost everyone thinks that I’m gone, and that doesn’t feel like something to celebrate.” Isobel disagrees, of course, which is why Max is even having this conversation with Liz in the first place. It scares her, he thinks, that Max is still so withdrawn from the rest of the world -- he can feel her frustration, her worry, that he’s still got one foot in the grave. But until they find a plausible lie for how he’s returned to Roswell, they can’t risk everyone knowing, and Max has to stay hidden. Stay stagnant.

Quiet descends on them for a moment, the peace from earlier destroyed by Max’s own frustration. He wishes he knew what to say to bring it back, but before he can open his mouth to try, Liz is leaning forward on her knees to take both of Max’s hands between her own. 

“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way,” she says earnestly, squeezing his fingers until Max looks up and catches her determined gaze. “Maybe everyone doesn’t know it yet, but you’re alive, Max. And I know that this is going to sound crazy, since you’re supposed to be the optimist in this relationship and I’m supposed to stick to the science -- but the fact that you’re here right now, holding my hand? Talking to me, after bringing Rosa back and dying yourself?”

Liz’s voice is soft, and full of wonder as she speaks. As if her brain and determination weren’t at least ninety percent of the reason that Max had made it back. “That’s a miracle, Max,” she continues, bringing his knuckles to her lips and kissing them once, tenderly. “You’re a miracle. And that’s something to celebrate.”

Heat suffuses Max’s cheeks and ears, and he shakes his head vehemently. “You made that happen, Liz,” he tells her, tugging her in against his chest and wrapping his arms around her waist. “The only miracle in my life is you.” His lips press against the crown of her head, and Max ignores the way the soft strands tickle his nose in favor of breathing in her familiar rose-scented shampoo. 

Max knows that most people on the outside looking in at his life might argue what he’d said. They’d see his powers, his superhuman healing hands and his supposedly god-like abilities, the fact that he’d brought a girl back to life and somehow defeated death himself, as evidence that he can work miracles. But the fact of the matter is that Max isn’t a god. He’s not a miracle, or a miracle worker. He’s an alien, one who’s going to have to fight the desire to heighten his powers by killing for the rest of his life. Everything remarkable that he’s done is tainted by that truth. 

At heart, Max is just a man, in love with a woman who’s more miraculous than anything he could ever do. 

“You are such a sap,” Liz teases, relaxing into his embrace with a contented sigh. “But I’ll let you get away with it because it’s late, I’m tired, and you’re comfortable.” There’s the flutter of lips at the base of his neck, and Liz shifts until Max is all but cradling her against him, supporting most of her weight. “But just -- think about it, okay? A tree? It’d be nice for us to be able to celebrate together, even if it’s just the two of us after I see Papa and Rosa. I won’t even tell Isobel, if you don’t want me to.” 

Max huffs a laugh and gives into the impulse to stroke her hair with his fingertips. “I think she’ll notice when stops by to visit,” he points out pragmatically. “And I’ve never been very good at keeping secrets from her. We can do dinner here for Christmas, if anyone wants to come. It’d be nice, to have everyone here at once.” Less lonely, at least for a night. And Max had to admit that some lights and decorations might make the house feel more like his again, after so long elsewhere. 

Liz smiles sleepily up at him and presses a clumsy kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Christmas with the family we chose,” she murmurs. “And maybe Christmas Eve with just the two of us, to celebrate the miracle of us.” 

This time, it’s Max that snorts. “And you say I’m a sap!” he teases, tugging at a long strand of hair near where it fell onto her back. 

Liz hums contentedly, nuzzling back into his chest and finally allowing her eyes to close. “You love me anyway,” she says on a yawn, and Max is hard-pressed to feel any of the disconnection or isolation that seemed so all-encompassing earlier in the evening. 

“I do,” Max agrees in a whisper, and reaches out with his power to turn out the lights. As he drags a blanket from the back of the couch to cover them both for the night, he spares a glance to the empty space in the living room where Isobel had stood, insisting it was perfect for a tree. 

Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be what he was used to, and maybe the sting of missing his parents and his freedom would hurt, but Liz is right. Max has plenty to celebrate, this year.

[lovemesomesurveys]

SEVEN DEADLY SINS Sin 1: Lust 1. Who was the last person you checked out? Did they check you out too? It’s been a looooooong time, honestly.  2. Who was the last person you desired, but they didn’t feel the same? Ty. 3. Ever cheated on a significant other? If so, have you learned from it? No. 4. Do you watch porn? No, not my thing.

5. Do you masturbate? No.

6. Best physical features on your preferred sex? Eyes, smile, hair, jaw line, arms. A nice stomach is nice, too. 7. Who are some celebrities that you think are totally hot? Alexander Skarsgard. 8. Did you ever lust after a best friend’s significant other? How did it turn out? No. 9. When was the last time you had sex? I’m a virgin.  10. Ever pursued someone, even though they were taken? No. Sin 2: Gluttony 1. When did you last eat at a restaurant? What restaurant was it? IHOP a couple weeks ago with my mom after doing some Christmas shopping. 2. When did you last have fast food? Where did you get it? For breakfast on Christmas day we had breakfast sandwiches from Jack in the Box. 3. What was the biggest meal you had all day? Nothing so far today, it’s only 1:54AM.  4. Do you have too many clothes? How often do you go shopping? Yes. I need to go through and get rid of stuff. It’s something I need to do soon. 5. What’s something you have a LOT of? Clothes and giraffe stuffed animals. 6. Do you eat a lot? Not really. I should be eating a lot more. 7. What was the last thing you splurged (spent a lot of money) on? Christmas presents. I always get a little too carried away for Christmas, but I love spoiling my family when I can. 8. What do you spend most of your money on (besides bills and anything necessary like that)? Clothes and coffee. 9. Last time you ate candy? What was it? I don’t remember. I haven’t had candy in such a long time. 10. Last thing you ate too much of? I’ve had Wingstop and pizza from my favorite pizza place a lot lately, but I love it. Sin 3: Greed 1. Do you share things? How often? Yes. I don’t know how often? I share what I can, when I can. 2. Someone asks you for a piece of your cookie. You break it in half, but the pieces aren’t equal. Who gets the bigger piece? I always give the other person more of whatever it is we’re splitting. 3. When you see change on the ground, do you pick it up? Rarely. 4. How often do you lend money to people? I don’t get asked often. More often I treat my family to things when I can, but if they ever needed to borrow money and I was able to lend it, then I certainly would.  5. Do you loooove money? Unfortunately, it’s necessary and I’d be lying if I said I wish I didn’t have a little more of it.  6. If someone offers to pay for you, do you decline or readily accept? If it’s my parents or brother, I’ll accept. I feel comfortable enough to, and I pay for them sometimes as well. If it’s someone else, I’ll decline unless they’re really persistent about it, but I’ll treat them the next time. 7. Which of your friends is the wealthiest? I don’t have any friends. 8. Would you take a high-paying job that you didn’t really like just for the money and benefits? Not if I was just absolutely miserable.  9. Ever stole from anyone? What about stole from a store? What happened? Only when I was a kid. I thought the candy in the big candy bins was free. :X 10. Do you ever have enough money? My family and I have a roof over our head, food to eat, clothes to wear, bills are paid, and we have nice things. Things definitely get stressful, though. Some months tend to be harder than others, financially. I, personally, would like to have more of it, but I’m able to have the necessities.  Sin 4: Sloth 1. Last thing you procrastinated on? Life. 2. When you’re at a strip mall and the next store you want to go to is at the other side, do you drive over there instead of take a short walk? I usually just head over there, but it would depend on how far the next store is. 3. What’s a typical day off of school and/or work like for you? I’m finished with school and I don’t have a job, but a typical day for me consists of checking social media, watching TV, watching YouTube, Tumblr, surveys, and resting. Lately I’ve also been playing my Nintendo Switch because I recently got Luigi’s Mansion 3, which I had been wanting to play since it came out. 4. What’s one talent you have that you don’t really work on, even though you have the ability to be good at it? I don’t have any. 5. How many hours of television do you watch a day? It really varies. Most of the time it’s on for background noise more than anything, but it depends on the day and what’s on. I multitask, so I tune in and out to what’s on unless it’s a new episode of a favorite show.  6. What about the amount of time you spend on the internet a day? I’m always either on my laptop or on my phone doing something, even if just watching YouTube.   7. How many hours of sleep do you get a day? Do you sleep in late? Lately, my sleep schedule has been from like 4AM to 12-1PM.  8. Do you drive to places that are less than three blocks away? I don’t drive, personally, but yeah my family and I take the car everywhere.  9. When was the last time you exercised? Uhhhh. 10. Ever copied and pasted your homework from a website on the internet? No. Sin 5: Wrath 1. If you could kill one person and get away with it, would you do it? No! 2. Is there anyone you honestly and truly can say that you hate? Besides myself, no. 3. Is there anyone you want revenge on, whether you want to get them back big-time or just play a little prank on them for hurting your feelings? No. I’m not a revengeful person. 4. Are you fighting with any friends right now? Why? No friends, so no. 5. Last time you were really angry? What happened? Blah. 6. When you’re angry, what do you do to calm yourself down? When I’m angry I shut down and just cry. 7. “Hate is just the fear of loving someone.” true or false? I wouldn’t say that. 8. What’s the best revenge you ever got on someone? I don’t seek revenge. 9. Was there any hard feelings after your last break-up? On whose end was it on? He broke things off with me, and there was definitely hard feelings on my end. He seemed completely unfazed.  10. Ever been cheated on? How did that make you feel? No. Sin 6: Envy 1. Is there anyone you’re jealous of? Name a person and tell us why. This is the envy section and envy and jealousy are different things. I am envious of certain types of people. 2. List three physical features some other people have that you’re envious of (no need to get specific and name people; you can just say something like “brown eyes” or “having perfect eyebrows”). Blue or green eyes, nice, shiny, thick hair that styles well, perfect shiny white teeth, fit bodies... 3. List three personality features that other people have that you’re envious of. Outgoing, intelligent, witty, adventurous, driven and ambitious, talented... 4. Are you a jealous significant other? I’m single. 5. Could you date someone who was really jealous? No. If they’re the possessive and abusive type, then absolutely not. 6. What celebrity’s looks do you envy the most? All the gorgeous ones. 7. Do you think anyone is envious of you? In your opinion, what characteristics (physical and mental) do you possess that you think someone might be envious of? HA, no. 8. What are a few things you wish you were good at? I wish I could play the piano, sing, draw, be an adult... 9. Did you ever date someone, break up, and then see them dating someone very attractive a few days later? Were you jealous of that person? No. 10. When looking at a love interest’s exes, do you often find yourself jealous of their good-looking exes? It has happened. Sin 7: Pride 1. What’s something you brag about a lot (be honest–we all brag sometimes)? I’m honestly probably the most non-braggy person you’ll ever meet. There, I guess that’s me bragging about something.  <<< Haaaa, same. I have nothing else to brag about. Also, bragging isn’t a cute look anyway. It’s one thing to be proud of yourself and your accomplishments, but bragging is another level. 2. What physical features do you take the most pride in? None. 3. Are you satisfied with what you have? Some things. 4. Be honest… when someone is telling you something, do you often change the subject so it’s about you and your accomplishments instead? Nooo, I’m very much the opposite. I shift the conversation away from me and towards them.  5. Do you like talking about your achievements? What achievements? 6. Do your parents tend to brag about how well you came out? My parents like to share that I went to a good college and got my BA in psych. Sounds all good when just left at that. Too bad I haven’t done anything at all since graduating and that degree is just collecting dust. I don’t even want to pursue that anymore. I have no idea what I want to do. If I’m being honest, I don’t want to do anything. :X  7. Do you strive to be better than others? Do you think competing with others is healthy? Ha, clearly not. 8. What do you do better than most people? Nothingggg. 9. Do you believe in taking pride in things you can’t control (ex. being proud of your heritage, being proud of your skin color, being proud of your natural artistic ability)? Sure.  10. Who are you competing with right now (it could be anything–classmates for a grade, co-workers for a position, other girl for a guy, etc.)? I don’t feel Im competing with anyone. I’m not even in the running.

[bignookling]

100 days to acnh challenge - 1 to 74

found this challenge and decided it would be a great way to pass the time until the release date, and a good way to get people to know me a lil better too c’: i feel so powerful starting at this point, there are so few days left to wait! 

1. Do you prefer making up a new name for your villager, or using your own name? i never, ever used my own name... i always felt like this would be boring, and i kinda want to give myself the opportunity to create a new “character” based on the events that happen to them in the game... (my first character in wild world was named Scarlet :^)) 2. Do you use the first map you’re given, or do you reset for layouts? i am bige resetter with bige plans all jokes aside i am way too indecisive and spent way too much time on this, i would even check people’s dream towns prior to resetting to gather ideas and fresh input on this. though usually, each time i remade my town i had a specific kind of map in mind? most of all, i like having a secluded nice little corner to put my house (being able to move your house in nh is a game changer honestly!) grass type and colors of buildings also matter. residents not so much because, hey, i can also reset for that later! (i am terrible) 3. Do you use the face you’re given, or do you wait for guides and choose your favourite? similarly, i use a guide. i think the only times i didn’t was my first times in wild world where i didn’t really have access to a fast internet connection :’^) (guess what i am also indecisive about this! my most used are the classic arched villager eyes, the almond shaped ones and the shiny anime ones THEY ARE TOO CUTE) 4. Favourite town/island name?/Have you a name picked out for your town/island? I WON’T SAY YET... i have multiple options for now and idk what to do... but my nl town is named Suzuran, and i really like this name :] 5. Will you be sharing with friends/family, or is your island going to be all your own? probably gonna be my own! my mother used to have a character in my wild world town though :) 6. What’s a new feature you’re excited about? ALL but mostly the terraforming/switching everything up options!! for...reasons mentioned above... also the weeds. i never really got to dupe clovers or stuff like that so i am very pumped 7. Favourite fruit? buttfruit peaches probably... i also love perfect oranges and perfect pears because they’re like golden... i like gold like perfect fruits in general hehe i also love the new fruits in new leaf! 8. Least favourite fruit? apples are a bit tacky to me but i still love them i am sad i cannot really make a lot of fruit trees work in my minimally colored nl towns... some people do it so well though and i am TRYING 9.  Favourite area? (Beach, campground, shopping district etc, from any entry in the series.) THIS IS HARD I DON’T HAVE A LOT OF MEMORIES i have fond memories of the beach in wild world just because of some people’s really pretty hacked towns. like they added a whole “manor” (big player house) in front of it and that was the bomb. i also loved the cliffs in city folk and am so glad they are back... 10. Where do you like to like to put your house? Do you like that level of customization, or do you prefer to have some things decided, like in older entries? as i said i like secluded, remote areas for the house, and i also loved to put it near the cliff in city folk! (you better be fully awake if you step out)  the beach is a neat option too. but in nl my favorite was next to a waterfall! 11.  Favourite grass pattern? triangles! when i was a kid it was my least fav and i always avoided it though... then i visited a friend’s cf town and was like “wait this is MORE LIKE REAL GRASS” and i had an awakening...  12. Least favourite grass pattern? circles are a bit... odd for grass i think 13. Favourite villager/s? purrl was my absolute queen when i played wild world and still is. i love cats in general... and deer. and coco. coco is so my aesthetic and goals for a town feeling if you know what i mean, i adore her. doyoing 14. Least favourite villager/s? i am basic and like cute things so the least cute and mostly most tacky, bright colored ones... i am sorry...i still care about all your villagers 15. Did you like doing Tom Nook’s chores, or did you find those to be a pain? generally speaking i like them when i first play the game because they are immersive and kinda introduce you to the main concepts of the game? (the city in city folk, being mayor in nl etc) but with side characters and resetting they get a bit repetitive and frustrating upping your reputation to be able to work as a mayor in nl also is a pain 16. Favourite NPC/s? label is my queen and wife. i love her sisters too, and tom nook... BLANCA too i adored her when i played wild world and couldn’t get to see her in my town and was so hyped for her nl event laughs, and joan and daisy mae... i’m probably forgetting some faves I LOVE EVERYONE wait KAPPN has cute dialogue too!  17. Least favourite NPC/s? is there one? i don’t know? i’m gonna go check a list of npcs now ... i am back and honestly I DON’T KNOW 18. Do you use paths? Are you excited about the new path tool? i don’t use paths in my town because they are a mess to set up and i love the natural look anyway, but some people do it so well! i love the ones with natural colors and the little details.  the new path tool looks so convenient, but i don’t know if i like the textures! i’ll probably use it sparsely because i also wanna keep that wild look to my town 19. Favourite feature from an older entry?  the lights on the villagers’ houses in wild world is what came to mind first, hahah 20. What was your first Animal Crossing game? WILD WORLD!! i played it so much and for so long 21. Favourite activity (fishing, bug catching, fossil hunting, other)? bug catching (ca-ching) is my fave out of this list, i also love visiting dream towns and playing with friends in general! 22. Least favourite activity? diving is so slow... 23. Favourite bug? the huge butterflies you see in summer (i was AMAZED when i first saw them), the fireflies (SAME, the first time i saw some was in someone else’s town in city folk as we crossed a bridge and it was just magical, laughs), and the big shiny beetles... it’s not just for the monies, i promise 24. Least favourite bug? either the small butterflies that you see everywhere when you’re trying to catch something neat for the bug-off, or the tarentulas/scorpios because i NEVER MANAGED TO CATCH THEM 25. A quarter of the way there! How’s the wait? actually there’s barely a month remaining as we speak, so pretty fine! i still have to pick my character and town names, and to be honest i am mostly worried i’ll start procrastinating like crazy once the game is out. coughs. at least i’ll draw ac characters? 26.  Favourite fish? i love coelacanths because i am a big nerd, also the sharks and the cute colorful fishes 27.  Least favourite fish? just all the most common ones probably? sea bass isn’t the only one... 28.  Favourite fossil?  what are these questions. uh, i loved putting the small squares ones in my room in wild world...especially ammonites 29.  Least favourite fossil? the ones that bring less cash money? i only care about fossils when they’re displayed in the museum tbh. and there i just love them all 30. Favourite furniture series? the ranch series looked way better in wild world and i am mourning now i love alpine, rococo and modern wood the most! the green one looks cool recolored too! i like combining different series the most, too 31. Least favourite furniture series? anything bright and tacky (except maybe the lovely that’s still fairly cute?)  32. Favourite soundtrack? (Gamecube, DS/Wii, etc) i can’t remember but i get huge pangs of nostalgia if i listen to the wild world/city folk one 33. Least favourite soundtrack? i DON’T KNOW... maybe nl was a bit less whismical? 34. Favourite wallpaper? alpine, chic, exquisite, classic, [...] anything that looks warm and natural and makes for a comfortable house!  35. Do you have a nice memory of the games/community etc you’d like to share? when i was a young teen, i idolized someone in the wild world community because her town was honestly incredibly pretty? so much thought has been put into it and it was just a dream. it made me want to invest more time and planning into my own towns and that’s how i got really, really hooked on the game, i think 36. Least favourite wallpaper? anything really colorful and tacky again... 37.  Favourite carpet? the wood ones, mostly! 39. Favourite furniture item? i love the oven thing from pocket camp... and the rocking chair... and the fireplace... 40. Will you be buying a Switch for Animal Crossing, or do you already have one? i have preordered the animal crossing one... i live for this (i am so glad i waited though honestly) 41. Least favourite furniture item? the huge tacky things or things that just look odd in a house perhaps... wait but i still like to see them and some people use them so well. why would i hate on furniture i wonder 42. Favourite flower? jacob’s ladders and white flowers in general. i adore the look of the ones in nh, holy sh- 43. Least favourite flower? pretty much anything that’s yellow. just never goes with my town plans... the roses especially are so bright i’m 44. Favourite hybrid? i miss the colors of the ones in ww/cf so much... so so much but in general i like anything that’s purple, black or blue i think :> 45. Least favourite hybrid? hmmmm the orange ones from new leaf i think? in the previous games they were so rich and warm though... 46. Favourite shirt? the canary shirt, maybe? though i mostly use qr codes, ahaha some of these outfits are still super cute... 47. Favourite dress? anything pocket camp tends to be good, also this one forever in my heart. i adore the flowery sleeveless dresses too! 48. Favourite accessory? bandages, heart shades, leaf, and tortoise specs! 49. Favourite hat/helmet? celeste’s ribbon, hibiscus hairpin, and that tiny straw hat 51. Favourite shop? i always adored able sisters, and leif’s little gardening shack :> 52. Do you collect amiibo cards/figures? Would you like to see them used in the new game? we know they are compatible now, but i don’t have any! maybe i should buy some? 53. Fishing Tourney or Bug-Off? bug-off is quicker and funnier >:] also i remember i ALWAYS WON in cf while playing with friends... fight me... 54. Do you like making your own clothing patterns? there are so many nice ones already that my slots are always full, so i don’t bother... i remember making a two-toned shirt that i wanted irl when i got new leaf, but that’s pretty much all 55. Did you streetpass with many other ACNL players, or is it a feature you didn’t get much use of? I ALMOST NEVER DID...

56. Favourite villager species? CATS... also, deer. basic basic 57. Least favourite villager species? mice and monkeys have the least cute designs i think...? also hamsters idk. i don’t know i like villagers don’t make me choose 58. Favourite nickname from a villager? 59. Least favourite nickname from a villager? I NEVER LET THEM NICKNAME ME... i am sorry to all the aminals 60. Do you try to collect everything in the game, or just try to get your favourite bits and pieces? in wild world i tried to fill my catalog, but now i only get what i need or what i know my friends might need 61. Favourite villager personality? i always had a thing for the snooty and cranky ones! the uchis are cool now too 62. Least favourite villager personality? the jocks are boring to me and they tend to have my least fav designs. when i like one i keep them though because it is so rare...wheeps 63. Do you “plot reset” for villager house placement, or do you let them move in wherever they want? i only really started doing that with the welcome amiibo update that apparently makes it easier, else i just waited for the annoying ones to move... (and time travelled a lot) 64. Are you excited to wear any of the new accessories (like the bags etc shown in the E3 trailer)? i will COLLECT THOSE and COLOR COORDINATE 65. What season are you most looking forward to seeing in New Horizons? 66. What’s your favourite season? i think summer, i want to hear the cicadas and see the fireflies again, and i also want to see how the rain and wind look like! i remember seeing really pretty storms in nl during summer too ♥ 67. Least favourite season? winter gets slow after a while? i still love it though 68. Which game’s events/holidays do you like the most? 69. Which game’s events/holidays do you like least? i don’t remember ‘-’ honestly i feel like i liked them all for different reasons? wild world felt more “involved” in the community, REMEMBER THE GARDENING CONTESTS! and city folk gave you better rewards and was a fun minigame for the day.  70. Do you have another nice AC related memory you’d like to share (in-game, of the community, etc)? i had a vivid dream that your character could DIE in animal crossing once (i predicted new horizons yes) 71. Do you prefer the “live” versions of K.K. Slider’s Songs, or the airchecks? i tend to prefer the airchecks but the concerts are Special, no matter if it’s with friends or alone 72. An NPC you’d like to see more of? mmmnnh blanca always. i love her spirit 73. An NPC you’d like to see less of? really unpopular opinion probably but i wouldn’t miss reese and cyrus too much if they aren’t as present in nh 74. If you could have any piece of AC merchandise, which would it be? the plushies are so good... i’d like like... a fauna one... idk WHEW I’M DONE... i’ll be posting the rest of it daily now! 

[ashes-and-ashes]

So, apparently it has been 6 months since I first started posting my stuff on Tumblr.

6 months! It feels so long and yet so short, all at the same time. Tumblr has become such a huge part of my life now, and I am so grateful that this community is so welcoming and accepting.

I remember when I decided to first write this. I always wanted to post my stuff on Tumblr, always wanted to be able to share my writing, but by God, I was so damn scared. I always made deadlines for myself, “I’ll post over Christmas! I’ll post on my Birthday!”

That was actually the major deadline for me! I always told myself that I’d start posting on my birthday, that it would be like a present to myself. At the time I set that goal for myself (August Something), March 11th seemed so far away, and I was basically procrastinating.

And one day, I was watching he Winter Soldier and I was thinking about Stucky. And it was 12 at night and I don’t know what happened, I just thought to myself, “Screw it. I want to write something and I’m going to post it.”

So I did. I spent 4 hours on this semi-decent fic and I got a grand total of 12 notes. And I was ecstatic because holy shit, 12 people like my stuff?

So I kept going! And now here I am! I think it’s pretty funny that the first thing I ever decided to write was an angsty fic about Stucky and their relationship.

Anyways, here it is down below! Thanks for supporting me, and encouraging me to keep writing! :)

Thoughts

Bucky’s falling, wind whispering in his ears, snow covering his face, the screeching of the train on top of him. A scream rises in his throat, as he stares up at the sky above him.

And suddenly, he’s 9 years old again, cracked shoes and dirty clothes, sitting on top of the swing set in the park. It was a hot day, a dry summer. He sees dead grass drying in the cracks in the pavement, hear the wind whistling through the trees.

And he hears them. There’s Ricky King, 3 years older then him, towering over all the boys in the neighborhood. He’s laughing, a group of older boy around him, all kicking at something hidden in the middle of the throng. Bucky finds himself leaning forwards, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay in the middle. The crowd shifts, and Bucky sees a tiny figure, all bones and cuts and the bluest eyes he’s ever seen. The boy is bleeding, marks all over his face, yet he still pushes himself off the ground, glares at Ricky, and says something that makes Ricky flush and punch him square in the jaw. And Bucky is angry, because surely the boy knows that talking will only get him more hurt? So he sits there, and watches the fight.

After 10 more minutes, the boys leave, and Bucky hops down off the swing set and heads over to check on the boy. He’s curled into a ball, yet when he glances up, his eyes are filled with defiance. Pain fills his every move as he slowly pushes himself to his feet, still glaring at Bucky. And Bucky is speechless, because why would you let yourself be tortured like that?

He doesn’t know what to do, so after a while, he says, “Um...are you ok?” The other boy nods his head, tears welling up in his eyes, desperately trying not to cry. Bucky is still frozen, helpless. He puts his arms around the other boy, because that’s what his mother did when he was sad, and gradually, the boy stops crying. He lets go, looks at the other boy in the eyes and says, “Hi. I’m Bucky.” The other boy smiles back, eyes red from crying, and says softly, “Hi. I’m Steve.”

And they are 13 now, young and careless and rebellious. Steve is still small, bones protruding from his chest and half a foot shorter then everyone else in school. Bucky is taller, broader, dark hair and darker eyes, and they are inseparable. They spend the days at school, learning math and english and science. Afterwards, they go to Steve’s place, into the forest behind his house, and Steve draws and Bucky climbs trees and they are happy. And he’s 13, getting looks from the girls in his class. They giggle, hide behind the gates at recess, and he sometimes hears them whispering when he exits the classroom. He’s confused, because he’s never noticed these things, never noticed anything besides Steve, and he wonders if something is wrong with him.

They’re 14. Bucky is tall, towering over Steve, who is still skin and bones and blue eyes. It’s winter, bitterly cold, and they can’t light the fire because logs cost too much. They lie huddled in the narrow bed, Steve against the wall and Bucky pressing close to him. Steve is barely breathing, his last asthma attack not even 10 minutes ago. He shivers, the movement shaking the entire bed, and Bucky presses closer. He hesitates, because he is 14 and should he really be sharing a bed with his friend? And he hates himself for it, hates that little voice of doubt in his head because Goddamn it, he’s your best friend for Christ sakes Bucky! but he can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. He’s noticing things, the curve of Steve’s wrist as he turned the page on the sketch book, the way his hair fell over his face, how his cheekbones and nose casted a shadow over his lips when the sun was in the right place in the sky.

And Bucky is scared, because this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be like? He almost edges away from the sleeping figure of Steve, but another wave of coughing overwhelms Steve’s thin body, and Bucky is back to his old spot on the bed. He reaches over, wraps an arm around Steve’s bony ones and holds him tight.

And they are 15, and Steve still can’t fade from Bucky’s mind. He tries to hide it, destroy it, burry it with wine and women and dancing. He takes his shoes, shines them until you couldn’t see the cracks in them, smiles to hide the holes in his heart. He spends the days working at the docks, hauling box after box after box. The money is barely enough to get by, the work exhausting, but Bucky can’t quit, because he now has to support not only himself, but Steve as well.

And it hurts. Everyday, 5 in the morning until 7 at night, hauling boxes and tying knots, until his back is screaming and his fingers are bloody. He waits outside of the apartment that him and Steve share, looking at himself in the shard of mirror hanging outside of the front door, pasting a smile on his face and he clenches his teeth hard. He knows that if he breaks down, Steve would be out on the streets, and he would not, could not abandon Steve. He’s 15, working his ass off, trying to support 2 orphans, and still when he falls asleep, all he can see are Steve’s blue eyes in his dreams.

They are 16, the world going to absolute shit around them, and all Steve wants to do is fight for his country. “They are ENSLAVING people over their Buck,” he says one evening, glaring at the radio set in front of them. “I need to help. I can’t...I can’t just stay here and do nothing!”

Dread pools in Bucky’s stomach, because how can he protect Steve if he is somewhere in a goddamn war zone? but he holds it together, smiles, manages a small “calm down pip-squeak,” and exits the room.

He’s scared, because he knows that while the army may never take Steve, they’d sure as hell take him, and then Steve would be on his own. He can’t handle that, the thought of leaving for some separate country, and never seeing Steve again. It’s worse though, because despite all that’s happened, he can’t stop having those dreams. Dreams of Steve’s hands on his body, and those blue eyes, and kissing him, Bucky’s hands tangling in his hair. He’s disgusted with himself, knows that this is wrong, but he can’t decide if he is relieved or wrecked that he may leave without ever telling Steve Rogers the words I love you.

They are 17, now, the war still raging around them. They’ve been lucky so far, but Bucky knows that this luck can’t hold for much longer. Steve is at the recruiting station everyday, a different state on his form every time, and yet all Bucky can do is stare at the envelope placed in front of him at work. His name is printed in bold letters on the paper, James Buchanan Barnes, and the only thing that runs through Bucky’s head is Steve. Because the day had finally come, the clock had run out. He knew that they were on borrowed time, knew that every moment was another moment lost, but goddamn him, he thought they would have more of it. And he knows he’s going to die there, die without ever saying goodbye to Steve, and he can’t think, his breath coming in tight bursts. He stands up, shoves his chair underneath the table with a violent jerk, and somehow he is standing outside the apartment, in his uniform, his hat cocked to one side, and trying not to fall apart.

He opens the door, finds the window open and sees a note saying On Roof. He climbs out the window, sees Steve on the roof, and his heart catches in his throat because he is so freaking beautiful, all golden and shadows, and all he wants to do is to kiss him. Steve comes over, smiling, greets him with a simple “Hey Buck.”

He leans over, puts his arm around Bucky, and Bucky feels his heart hammering in his chest. Steve notices this, turns his head towards Bucky, a confused expression on his face and goddamn him in hell, but Bucky can’t take it. They are only a short distance apart, and Bucky leans forwards and meets Steve’s lips with his own.

And Steve stiffens for a moment, and Bucky nearly pulls away, petrified because shit, shit, shit what if he didn’t like me in that way?? And he is about to apologize, beg his forgiveness when Steve pulls him closer and kisses him again.

They are 2 boys, rain pouring down on top of them, buckets and buckets of it, and yet all either of them can do is breathe each other in. And Bucky pulled away, looking at Steve Rogers in the eyes, and thinks how can I let this go?

And as Bucky falls, he remembers. Days and days of golden summer, crisp fall. Lying in beds as boys, pressing Steve against his body. Sitting in trees, Steve drawing and Bucky reading. Snowball fights and sleepovers and campfires and how the light reflected off of Steve’s face. 2 boys kissing on the rooftop, not giving a damn what others thought as the skies opened on top of them. And he was grateful. Grateful for all that stolen time, those early days and late nights, that hot summer day long ago, because without Steve, Bucky knew that his life would be meaningless.

So Bucky fell, thousands of miles off a steel train, and the last thing he saw was the blue eyes of the boy he loved best.

[mimiplaysgames]

A Rush of Blood to the Head (4/6)

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 7,895

Summary: Faced with what he has to do, Terra learns that darkness doesn’t matter when it comes to saving the one he loves.

A/N: It’s been a long, long time. I haven’t been well, but I’ve been slowly recovering. I’ve poured a lot of my sadness into this one, and it’s been so relieving to finally finish it and put it out there. Here comes saving Aquanort. Next will be two chapters worth of reconciliation and introspection, and I honestly can’t wait to get to them.

This Dream I’ve Freed

Terra couldn’t find Ventus, and if he did, he’d kill him.

The back entrance of the academy was a large, open room. Long windows situated high on the walls above him embraced the room with so much sun, there wasn’t a shadow to be found except his own. Rough, sky-blue ceramic tiles led the way to tall garden gates. They were gold and elaborate in design that featured vines twisted from the center outward. And they were open. Ventus must have headed for the Master’s beloved gardens, which boasted the most colorful flowers in the Land of Departure.

This back room had a number of large sinks mounted on the walls, normally spent washing off dirt and mud. It was often the case the three students explored the trails out in the fields beyond, and they’d be damned if the Master allowed them to dirty the pristine hallway floors within the castle. Terra approached one, and finally looked at himself in the mirror.

He had already noticed most of the scrawls and doodles that were on his arms. Some of them were cartoonish monsters, inked in black marker. Others were teases and mean words. “Loser” in particular was huge, scribbled across the entirety of his forearm. A doodle of what appeared to be Ventus wielding a large sword was on the other.

Worst of all was a three-worded sentence, written underneath his right tricep: “Terra loves Aqua.” Complete with a large heart bordering them. His most guarded secret on display.

But the mirror showed him one more – a thin, curly mustache traced above his lips.

“What happened to you?” he heard Aqua say, followed by a giggle. No doubt she saw the mustache as she flashed a half-cocked smile, suppressing a laugh. “You should grow out facial hair. It’d look good on you.”

His first instinct was to keep his tricep close to him, so that she wouldn’t see the incriminating evidence.

“I was sparring with Ven.” He turned the sink on, and began to wash his forearms - though it was more important that he kept calm and collected so she wouldn’t suspect anything. “Him and his ridiculous spells.”

“Of course, it’s Ven we’re talking about.” She leaned on the edge of the sink, her free hand rested on her hip. “He used Sleep on the Master once, just so that he could procrastinate on an essay.”

“Tell me the Master still didn’t find out about that.”

“He never did,” she said uncomfortably, as if she was guilty for even knowing about it. “But you’re avoiding my question.”

“Ven cast Stop on me,” he said, eyeing the doodles, “and did all this while I was frozen.”

Aqua lifted her hand to her mouth to disguise her snort, but there was no way she was able to hide how funny she thought it was. Perhaps putting up with the doodles was worth it, just to see her this way: eyes squinting and watering, cheeks puffed, smile wide. Beautiful.

Not that he could ever tell her he’d be willing to go that far to make her laugh. “Wait until he does it to you, and see how you’ll feel.”

She lifted her hands up, as if in surrender. “Okay, I’ll stop. I swear,” she said, a few straggling chuckles escaping her lips.

He wiped his face with water, specifically with his left hand so the love message wouldn’t get exposed. “Well, if you see Ven, send him my way.”

“Ah,” she smacked her lips and shook a finger, which was expected. “That means I have to play babysitter and get in between you two.” She waved her arm dismissively when he flashed her a look of disapproval. “You’ll both thank me later when I spare you from being grounded. I won’t clean up after you guys, either.”

He knew why she would say that. The last time he and Ventus exchanged revenge pranks, the kitchen was destroyed. Explosive, ground shattering magic. Most of the evidence blamed Terra for the destruction, but the Master scolded Ventus for being provocative. They were both grounded and tasked with rebuilding it.

“I’ll give him nothing more than a noogie, I promise,” he said.

“Oh, please.” She made her way to the garden gates, her hand tracing their vinyl architecture. “Knowing the two of you, the library will be next.”

To her, it was probably nothing more than a typical day of preventing some accident. But he had surely averted a crisis as she walked away. Finally relaxed, he rubbed soap and water onto his tricep, the heart streaking black ink down his skin.

He stood up from his bed and immediately checked his nightstand - just to be sure it was still there, safe.

It was exactly where he left it before he went to sleep the night before. Her blue Wayfinder, perfect in condition and reflecting a bright radiance with its deep hue. Next to it was his own: broken, with a crack on one of the wings of the star. The silver border on that side was dislodged and severely bent, sticking straight out. He found it in this state the day he reunited with his armor, though he was grateful it wasn’t in worse condition from these odd thirteen years. As much as he treasured his orange Wayfinder, and as much as having it in his possession made him feel more complete, it really paled in comparison to hers.

For the last couple of weeks, he checked to see if hers was still there every single morning with the same desperation. He checked it every hour when he hung it around his neck - because losing it was by far a harsher reality than the one he was living now.

He sighed a breath of relief, and gazed out of his bedroom window at the mountains beyond. The sun didn’t shine as much as it used to in the Land of Departure. At least that was what it seemed to Terra. There was always a possibility that he didn’t remember it right. It was overcast, the clouds moving so slowly he was sure there was no wind blowing. It reminded him of the stillness in the castle - which he hated the most apart from the silence. Apart from the fact that she wasn’t here.

Terra flipped his legs over the side of his bed. Most of the castle had been destroyed the day the Master died, but his bedroom was as messy as it used to be. Like he left it on a typical day, and simply forgot to come back. His room was a relic: proof he had a life before Xehanort.

Clothes littered on the floor, across chairs, and stacked in corners. Papers scattered on the desk. Books hiding in random spots nearly everywhere. One particular book he had completely forgotten about: The Tales of Robin Hood, which donned a withered cover depicting a fox and a bear wearing tunics and hats. They had bows and arrows, and excitable smiles, looking forward to whatever rich lion they got to plunder next. The pages were yellowed, undisturbed by anything but time and an obsessed nine-year-old boy who used to read it every month in his young life. Inside the cover as an unevenly written claim of possession: This book belongs to Terra.

Robin Hood was the perfect hero the people needed to free them from tyranny. Smart, resourceful, witty, compassionate.

A nine-year-old Terra dreamed of becoming a Keyblade Master so he, too, could help other people and live the same example.

A twenty-year-old Terra sat on the edge of his bed in his dilapidated childhood home, with nothing to show for it. 

It was with his own hands, after all, that the worlds were in danger. His body at worst was a weapon, at best was living its own life when Xehanort was in control of it. Like he was wearing a suit. Yet Terra remembered nothing of these long years. He knew that Xehanort was the perpetrator for the hordes of Heartless that were threatening the entire multi-verse. Every person who has turned into a monster was blood on his own hands. But he didn’t know how often he tinkered in a lab. What kinds of chemicals he played with. Exactly what he did when he experimented on others. If he killed or tortured people. The clothes he wore. Who he talked to and what about. What he ate and if any of it made him sick.  When he slept and when he pulled all-nighters. If other people touched him. If other women were involved.

Terra knew he shouldn’t dwell on such thoughts, especially with no proof of the tinier details. But there came the cologne Xehanort would wear: a stench of patchouli, invading his nose. It didn’t matter how often he washed himself, somehow that smell always lingered. He already knew his body did things he didn’t want to do, and he didn’t need the reminder.

He grabbed her Wayfinder because under no circumstances would he leave the room without it. Gently placing it on his bathroom sink, he tore his clothes off and threw himself under the boiling water of his shower. He allowed his skin to burn away, hoping that this time it would stick. That all traces of Xehanort and that nauseating cologne would be incinerated for good this time. He scrubbed it raw, just to be extra certain. And he stood there, allowing the minutes to fly by as the water trickled down his skin, until he was convinced he was clean. Steam filled the entirety of the bathroom, and he only relaxed when the last sensations he felt were his own sweat coming down and the aroma of his sandalwood products clogging his nose.

His mirror was completely fogged up when he turned the water off. The skin all over his torso and arms was red from his scrubbing. But he was cleansed for now. The first order of business was to put on a clean shirt – this one a dark gray – before untying the clasp of her Wayfinder and drawing it around his neck. Its blue brilliance was flashy in comparison to anything he wore, but he was fine with that. This was the end of shower number one for the day – normally he would take three. Two if he was out for too long.

Finished and dressed, and with his bent orange Wayfinder in his pocket, Terra left his room and passed by hers. He knew it was better if he continued along and not go in. He knew it. But he couldn’t help himself – like a moth to a flame, he wondered if he preferred to torture himself, and opened the door.

Her bedroom, too, was untouched by anything.

She was always a neat and orderly person. Her desk was arranged and organized, books stacked neatly in a pile. Quills and pencils in their cases. Her work desk is mostly bare, because anything she had were stored in her drawers. A craft desk was right by it, and it was also tidy, with only a sewing machine to show for it and the rest of her supplies and trinkets organized in boxes.

She also fancied herself as the type of student that stayed out of trouble. Her dresser stood tall, no nicks or scratches into the wood like his own, because she actually followed the rules and never swung her practice weapons in her bedroom. On top of it was a collection of decorations, one of which was a sculpted dolphin that he made out of wood. He made it as a birthday gift. Maybe for her twelfth birthday? Or eleventh?

Her bed was made and the technique of it was pristine. As if she left early that morning, and would be back later that night.

Terra stared into her room. It was a fossil, sure, but proof that she used that sewing machine, and wrote essays on her desk. That he had a best friend growing up. He gently closed her door, caressing it as though it was precious.

Passing by Ventus’ room, he heard faint snoring. Peeking inside, he saw the boy sprawled out on his bed, one arm hanging off the edge, and the other thrown over his forehead. His breathing was deep and rhythmic through his open mouth, a bit of drool slipping out.

This bedroom could be best described as organized chaos: Ventus wasn’t a messy person, but his haven was a treasure trove of all the trinkets, clothes, décor, and gifts that Terra and Aqua had brought to him from their travels. One from each world they had visited. So while he had beads hanging from his lamp post, numerous tapestries covering his walls, and too many miniature statues propped on his desk, everything had a place. It was neat – just cluttered.

Ventus woke up the same boy he was thirteen years ago, unaware of anything that had happened. When he was told about what happened to the Master and Aqua, Terra found himself enduring crying fits and raging smacks on his chest. What on earth where you doing all this time, Terra? How could you have let all this happen? Ventus had screamed that day. Turning Castle Oblivion back into the way it used to be was a silently awkward experience, and it took several days before Ventus could finally start to act his normal self again.

It didn’t take long for Ventus to say he was sorry. It was comforting to know that he wasn’t hated, but Terra knew he was at fault anyway, and didn’t think he deserved the apologies. But this was in the past now. Watching his little brother, sleeping peacefully as though everything was normal, was soothing. A member of his family was back home, safe. If Ventus could find an inner tranquility to sleep through the night, then maybe it was a good omen for what was to come.

Not that Ventus would ever let Terra walk away without whining about how annoying that was, if he was caught watching over him like that. I’m not a child anymore, Terra.

The castle was so quiet that no other sound existed to smother any noise Terra would make, so he closed the door behind him as quietly as he could. Ventus could think he slept like a respectable adult today. A bullet dodged.

Days in the castle demanded too much attention and care. When they weren’t out doing missions or hunting Heartless, they spent their time fixing. And fixing. And fixing some more. But it was never enough, and the repairs were done too slowly to make that much of a difference.

The lounge area, where they used to spend time studying, hanging out, and making blanket forts together, had its outer wall completely blown open. The water damage from thirteen years’ worth of thunderstorms left behind veins of black mold that cracked through the plaster, and most of the furniture was missing.

Far too many rooms to count had the ceilings collapsed inside. The vast majority of the floors were cracked, so all of the tiles had to be replaced. Some of the outer towers were completely gone. They found one of them sprawled out over a waterfall some miles below, trees already growing through the rubble.

Some hallways, particularly the ones leading to the back of the castle, were blocked by rubble, though Terra has gotten far enough in clearing one of them. The main staircase of the west wing had also fallen completely apart, and they couldn’t use it to reach the upper floors. He passed by a cardboard box of paintings, all standing straight as if in a file. These paintings, all of them either gifts given to Eraqus by his friends or were heirlooms from Masters of the past, were displaced.

Terra could find new walls to hang them up – but that meant it wouldn’t be home anymore. Home meant that these paintings were to be hung where they used to be. Anywhere else was a poor excuse of one. So they sat there for now, waiting to return to their proper places.

The Master’s study was spared from any real damage, though it looked as though an earthquake had shuffled it: bookshelves turned over, furniture out of place, dust and soot shot out from the fireplace. The messiest of all was the large, dark mahogany desk, with all the books, letters, and scattered around as though the table threw its own contents out in a fit. The windows were thankfully still intact, overlooking the back area of the castle. The Master used to watch his gardens grow from here. Now, the gardens were overtaken with weeds and patches of dry dirt.

This room was the most important – Terra wanted to arrange it back exactly the way it was, but he had too much work ahead of him. It didn’t smell of the Master anymore, merely something that was empty and void of any real life. Yet despite the horrendous mess, it was still so familiar.

Terra could picture the Master sitting at his desk, the morning sun shining through the windows as he whittled away at another letter with his pen, a mug of coffee close by. Smiling up at him behind that bushy mustache, his voice warm and content.

Good morning, Terra. I hope your dreams were pleasant. May the rest of your day be brighter.

Eraqus always greeted everyone each day with that phrase. What Terra would give to hear it now.

He opened the Master’s leather-bound journal where he logged his daily messages. Eraqus had the most legible, impeccable form for handwriting, as though he made it an art of his own. His cursive strokes were carefully crafted over years of perfecting the technique, as though he made sure to respect every thought that passed through his own mind.

Terra had read the last three entries to his Master’s log several times – remnants of his final thoughts and plans the day of his death. To see if he could feel what the Master felt in those final hours.

He turned over several pages where he went through his own entries. His handwriting was scratchy and uneven, as though he stayed a child. He picked up a quill and dipped it into fresh ink, then gazed over to the message-globe on the desk. It was a magical object, with a curved base that held a spinning, metallic, semicircular apparatus, and a tight golden harp string down the middle. When plucked, the string set off a vibration that summoned the apparatus to spin and blur until a glowing sphere took its place. The Master used this for receiving and sending messages in private.

Since coming back to the castle, Terra logged inquiries, cries for help, and everything in between that was sent to the Land of Departure since the Master’s death. They served as notes for worlds he would visit, to see if he could still save them. He wrote the date for the newest entry, the sender of the latest message, and some notes.

This new message was the exact dispatch he’d been waiting for.

Terra knew that today was going to be different, but difficult. He’d better get started.

Hurrying over to the kitchen, he filled a pot with flour, beef broth, and salt, and started boiling. Terra didn’t memorize recipes for stews – they were simple enough to make. But it wasn’t like he made them as delicious as Aqua’s. Potatoes, carrots, and onions, but these barely did anything to add a complex taste, and Ventus had complained enough about the bland food. He sprawled out different seasonings and stared at them for a while after gently adding slabs of beef into the pot. Paprika, a sprinkle of it. Perhaps Aqua would have added more for flavor, so he dumped a portion. Then he cut garlic. She probably would have relied on these the most, so he cut some more. Peppers – the more, the merrier. A hefty sum of cayenne.

Anything to make it flavorful. Aqua would have poured a mouthful of spices, right?

The kitchen was baked in an aroma that burned his eyes when Ventus approached the dining table.

“Morning, buddy,” Terra said. He tried to sound cheerful, and hoped it was successful.

Ventus mumbled an attempt at a greeting while rubbing his eyes, and waddled over to his chair.

Terra added a small amount of milk and stirred into the stew in order to tame it, before pouring a bowl of it in front of his friend. “This will certainly clear the sinuses.”

Ventus took one look at it. “Another stew.”

“I promise this will pack a punch.” Terra poured himself a bowl and sat at the head of the table. A pause. He wanted to at least start the day right. “I hope your dreams were pleasant, Ven. May the rest of your day be brighter.”

It sounded unnatural, coming from his lips. He didn’t know if he should mimic his Master’s enunciations, or if he should give it his own personality.

Ventus gazed at him, giving a sad smile while he nodded to himself. “With practice, it will sound better.” He meant it as a joke, but it came out morose.

Teasing was good. It was a form of affection that was appreciated. But some things have changed since their reunion. Normally, Ventus would nag him about the constant showering, but he didn’t.

He never teased about the fact that Aqua’s Wayfinder was always found around Terra’s neck, either. Terra didn’t take this as a sign of resentment, but one of respect.

The two boys picked at their food, the clash between spoon and bowl ringing in the hushed dining room as they slurped. Ventus sniffled, the intense amount of spices making his nose run.

There wasn’t an easy way to bring it up – the conversation about “the plan” was one that usually got tense. The Master would be entirely disappointed with what they were aiming to do. Lectures of how imperative it was to protect people, and how forbidden it was to ever use the Keyblade against the heart of another lingered in his mind. It was a path to darkness, but it was their best shot at getting her back. The best course of action, then, was to just get it over with.

“I got a message back from Yen Sid’s tower,” Terra said. “The good fairies agreed to meet us at Enchanted Dominion.”

Ventus shot a look up from his bowl, his attention caught. “Okay. But why there?”

Terra swirled his spoon into his stew. “I need to apologize to Princess Aurora,” he said slowly. They knew what he was talking about, and neither of them were going to go into detail as to why. “I also need to ask her a few questions.”

“To execute the plan,” There was a sense of bitterness in Ventus’ tone. He wasn’t alone, because both of them hated what they were going to do. “So I’ll just train with the fairies there?”

Terra took a long breath, looked at his friend straight in the eye, and kept his voice low. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. It isn’t pretty, seeing Aqua the way she is.”

“I want to help.” Ventus leaned forward with a fist on the table, his eyes glaring with determination. “I need to.”

“Okay,” Terra said with a small smile. Part of him felt relieved. “You’re better with the tricksy stuff anyway. We’ll head out as soon as breakfast is finished.”

Ventus gave out a half-hearted chuckle, not used to being trusted so much. He must be anxious about it, too. He said so before. While he fiddled more with his food, Terra reached out and held him firmly on the shoulder, in a manner meant to be comforting.

“When you see Aqua,” he told Ventus, “make sure to smile at her. Can you do that for me?”

It was late afternoon in San Fransokyo when they arrived. The sun cast out a warm, orange hue over the vast metropolis, which normally would host millions of hustling people. But not today.

Today, Heartless and data corruption overtook the city, and the people have evacuated. Some citizens have equipped themselves with the machinery to fight back, and were flying across the skies as they battled against armies of darkness.

The young Xehanort was in town. This alone interested Terra, but what convinced the both of them to come after their excursion in Enchanted Dominion was a short message from Sora: She’s here.

Terra and Ventus tracked down the time traveler. And she was, in fact, there with him - down an empty street, blocks away from the warfare Sora was leading against hordes of large Heartless.

Sneaking through a nearby alleyway and hiding behind opposing dumpsters, they were still too far away to eavesdrop on what the two cloaked Organization members were discussing. Aqua had her arms crossed, not giving Xehanort much of the respect to look at him while she answered his requests. They talked on, as if they had no idea about the combat that was happening streets away.

Ventus, crouching behind his dumpster and looking over his shoulder, let out a sigh when he saw her. But he did well to keep those feelings in.

Her hair was nearly white now, but what was most unsettling were her facial expressions. Some were worn on her face with familiarity – boredom, anticipation, annoyance. But when she smiled, it was bizarre. It was devilish, it was cocky.

“Sometimes, I wasn’t sure which Aqua I was dealing with,” Terra said in a hushed voice. His throat was constricted, his heart pounding so hard it was about to burst out and bleed over. Even though he had seen her like this before, it was still just as unbearable as the first time.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I can’t tell if it’s Aqua, if it’s Xehanort… or strangely, if it’s both of them…” his voice trailed off. When he was the one possessed, he had no control. But there were still voices he heard in the darkness, constantly keeping him quiet and asleep, telling him to give up. Was it the same for her? Was she better at fighting them off, or was she constantly losing every day?

He held her Wayfinder, resting on his chest. “You know Aqua is a slow burner when she gets angry.”

Ventus shrugged, smirking. “Sometimes.”

Terra couldn’t help himself but let out a chuckle. “Well, this Aqua acts like she’s doused in gasoline. Any small thing you say can make her explode - if she sets off at all. Her moods change in seconds, and you never know how she will react.”

“You talk about her like she’s a completely different person.”

“I…” He stroked her Wayfinder with his thumb, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I’m not sure what to make of her, honestly.” He just wished she was back to normal.

A shadow grew and formed an archway behind her, an incredibly large man wearing the same robe stepping out from it. Shoulder-length white hair, dark-skinned, barrel-chested, more than a head taller than her, with Terra’s face.

Ventus leaned onto his dumpster and squinted his eyes to get a closer look. “Who the heck is that?”

The replacement. It was shocking at first, like seeing a mirror image but one that had a lifeform of its own. Almost like an out of body experience. But his expressions were different too. Terra was sure he didn’t look like that when he smiled.

Either way, this Aqua had a new Terra of her own.

“Ugh…” Ventus shuddered. “I hope I never get a clone made out me, that’s creepy.”

He might have said that too loud. Aqua turned her head their direction, and they ducked back against the walls of the alleyway as fast as they could. They held their breaths, and inched their knees to their chests, as if to completely disappear behind the cover of the dumpsters.

They waited several seconds like this before Terra slowly inched forward, trying to hear if someone was approaching. Silence. He risked a peek.

“Sorry,” he heard Ventus whisper. “Did she see us?”

It seemed she hadn’t. The Terra-clone was moving his mouth, Xehanort attentive to his words. A half-cocked smile showed itself on her face, as if she found what he said only mildly funny.

Aqua said something, reaching her hand to touch the elbow of the clone. He gazed upon her, but this expression – this one – was perfectly readable. He did his best to remain calm, but a creeping smile and a glint in his eyes showed that he relished her touch.

Terra could relate to what that felt like and whipped his head back behind the dumpster. Put simply, he couldn’t bear to watch her touch that man. Losing her to darkness was devastating. But Terra was certain that his chest became several pounds heavier, and that his heart was nearly choked out of him because he also lost her to a substitute.

“You okay?” Ventus asked. He was leaning against his dumpster, but he was watching Terra with such concern and sympathy. “They’re leaving.”

He told himself that he would survive this, and reluctantly looked over his shoulder again. She led the clone through a newly opened corridor of darkness. They left behind Xehanort, who barked orders as they faded away.

“She’s gone. What now?” Ventus let out a sharp sigh.

What now, indeed. A vessel for Master Xehanort, Aqua was certainly a threat to all worlds. Yet she was entirely unstable. The younger one was an anomaly, protected by his own powerful magic and time travel. He was a haunting and was just as much of a menace (and perhaps more so) because of her condition. To protect this world, they all have to go down.

Terra knew on some level, this was about revenge, too. Though he didn’t care if this was unsightly for a proper Keyblade wielder anymore.

“We need to get her alone if we’re going to do anything,” Terra finally said, watching the younger Xehanort start to walk away. “But we also have a duty as Keyblade wielders…

“Ven, listen.” They looked into each other’s eyes, as if discussing a matter of military importance. “I need you to be my surprise factor. You should find a spot higher up on these skyscrapers, but not too far. I’m going to ambush Xehanort, and you need to be ready for my signal so you can strike him from above.”

“What about Aqua?”

“With him out of the way, we can focus on separating her from the other one.” Terra leaned forward and grabbed Ventus by the shoulder, his stare more intense as he needed this last message to stick. “I need you to wait for my call.”

He needed to protect Ventus, and would rather have use him as a finishing blow than keep him around too long in the heat of battle.

Ventus nodded immediately, his eyes full of resolve. “You can count on me.”

With that, the boy hopped over through an open window, disappearing into an unfurnished building where he started to climb up stairs. Terra stepped out of the alleyway, briskly following his target. But he made no effort to keep quiet.

Xehanort stopped in his tracks and faced him. If he was surprised, he made good effort not to show it. “The last time you and I spoke,” he began, his eyes narrowing in amusement and his smirk broadening, “you said I’d be afraid of you upon our next meeting.”

Terra said nothing in return, but instead summoned his Master’s Defender. It was lighter in weight than his own Keyblade, but it packed a magical punch that protected him more efficiently from severe attacks. It was a formidable weapon, but it had more to do with wielding the love for his lost ones. With her Wayfinder and Eraqus’ Keyblade, he would still have a hold onto light - even if he didn’t think he had any left for himself anymore.

“You failed,” Xehanort continued.

He succeeded. He failed. He heard both from the same, twisted man and it meant nothing.  The one thing that was necessary was to shove that smug face right into the concrete.

“I know for a fact that today, you’ll see the end of yourself,” Terra said, perhaps too confidently.

No, he could risk being cocky. He also had Ventus by his side.

Xehanort called for his own Keyblade, unique in its design and barely resembling the old man’s. “Need I remind you this is why you’d fall so easily as a victim to darkness? You’ve served your purpose well as a preservative for long enough. Yet you are such a weakling.”

There was no time to spit a smart retort over being such a disappointment. Xehanort warped to close the gap between them, and he kept this level of aggression throughout.

Terra was kept constantly on his feet to dodge each strike toward him. A strong magic user who loved to rely on deception, Xehanort particularly enjoyed zipping in between positions, just to get Terra to lean one direction so he could be struck from behind. It kept him on the edge of a puppet’s string, and he was played like a cat attempting to strike a fly. Xehanort was fast, his magic damaging.

But his strikes were weak. All that was needed was for Terra to endure. Dodge, endure. Wait for the opportune moment.

Until their Keyblades clashed. Terra, of course, was stronger, and was able to push Xehanort back. Now that the previous rhythm had been interrupted, the tables had turned and Terra took this opportunity to get more aggressive. To create his own flow in between Xehanort’s teleportations, and throw counter-strikes.

What was left was to maneuver Xehanort close enough to Ventus’ building. He’d let his friend, his comrade, his brother, do the rest.

And he almost had his victory, until she called out –

“Enough.”

Aqua casually strolled up to them, the sway in her walk self-assured, her face not impressed with what she had seen.

This was bad. It wasn’t about going up against two incredibly powerful opponents. Rather, Terra simply refused to raise a finger on her body. He wouldn’t ask Ventus to do the same, either. He prepared his fighting stance, ready to summon his glider so he could escape. Yet, he couldn’t keep his eyes away. It had been a while since he last saw her, and to think of leaving her behind... Yet… what if he had no choice?

He kept his grip on his Master’s Keyblade.

Xehanort glared at her. “Where is Xemnas?”

“We’ve got trouble.”  She crossed her arms as she took her place by Xehanort’s side. She glanced at Terra for merely a short second, but kept her focus on her partner. Her stare was unwavering, like a cat watching prey.

“Enough to incapacitate him?” He almost sounded disbelieving. But his eyes contorted with frustration and he huffed. “We’ll disable the Keyblade wielder here, then. Ventus would then be completely unprotected.”

That last statement was an attempt at arousing Terra’s anger, but it didn’t work. He just couldn’t focus.

Her stare. She stared at Xehanort as if she was studying him. It was deadpan and placid, like she was losing herself in his face, and each moment she kept relaxed and stayed silent, Terra knew. This was the face of someone who was ready to throw herself into the abyss.

She nonchalantly waved her arm around, her palm open. Shot from it was a gathering of lightning bolts so powerful that it sent Xehanort flying across the street, crashing into the wall of a building. He fell onto the ground, his body laying lifelessly. His Keyblade dissipated, leaving him defenseless and unconscious.

She flexed her fingers vigorously. Ventus was still watching, waiting for a cue. But Terra couldn’t allow this to turn into a fight. He was desperate to know if she was safe and okay, yet he was terrified of speaking. How unpredictable was she going to be this time? What did any of this mean?

“Going rogue?” he finally asked, as if giving her a friendly question.

“Taking out the trash.” She sounded like herself, but her voice was deeper. It was tired, yet full of spite. “I’ve no need for those who’ve hurt me.” With those last two words, she finally looked at him, her gold eyes piercing.

He shook his head. “I’m not going to fight you, Aqua.”

Her face shuddered, as if she was processing an insult. She cocked her head to the side. “How courteous of you to consider my feelings,” she said through her teeth, sarcasm oozing through.

“I don’t want to be your enemy.”

Her eyes widened, and he swore he could see her pupils shrinking. She started to stride toward him with such nerve that it looked like she was preparing herself to slap him.

“Enemies,” she said mockingly, “friends. It’s too late for them to matter anymore.”

With that, she waved her hand to flash a set of threatening bolts his way. He blocked them, but it forced him to stagger backward. Even with the magical boost the Defender provided, it wasn’t a match for her power and mastery over spells.

Terra held his open palm to the ground, as if commanding a dog to stay. A cue to stand ground. Ventus shouldn’t swoop in to help him. Not now. Not yet.

“Who are you signaling to?” She threw another wave of bolts. He blocked again, but barely matched her speed. This time, he stumbled.

“Don’t mock me,” she growled. “Fight back!”

Her next wave hit him directly. The electricity gripped his entire body and stabbed him several times. His heart beat terribly and quickly, as if begging to be taken out or it would die. But he stood his ground. Allowed the dark energy of her magic to channel through his body and toward the Keyblade, using it as a conductor. Enduring the pain, whimpering from it.

When it was over, he immediately reached for her Wayfinder. It was still intact. He finally remembered to breathe.

“Did it hurt?” he heard her ask.

Then it dawned on him. The shock she sent Xehanort took him out of the ring completely in one swoop. He wondered if she was the trouble that fell on Xemnas.

But her attack this time didn’t even compare in power. She was holding back on him, just to see him wince.

“I get it now,” he said, his voice shaking. He started to tremble, unsure if he wanted to hear what he was going to say. Scared of how she would react. “You want me to feel pain.” 

She pursed her lips.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” he continued. “You want me to hurt.” He raised his voice. “Well it does. I am miserable every day. I can’t stand to see you this way. I can’t stand to be away from you, and I hate that I still exist while you continue to suffer for my sake!”

Her brows furrowed and her eyes started to tear, as if she realized something horrific. She grabbed her left arm rapidly, as if she was suffering intense pain. Her grip was so strong, it twisted the fabric of her cloak.

“You should have left me to rot in the Realm of Darkness, Aqua. I would have at least found some peace knowing you were safe.” He stopped yelling, but it was a struggle to keep his voice even. “So yes, it does hurt. Does that make you feel better?”

Her breath was shallow and she didn’t let go of her grip on herself. She leaned into her arm, as if seeking comfort for herself. She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Terra sighed, willfully ignoring the soreness throughout his whole body, and how tight his chest felt. He stepped forward and reached his hand out. “Come with us, then. Come home.” He caught a sob before it left him. “We just want you to get better.”

“Get better.” She said it in a way to mimic him. Her eyes scattered the ground and darted in many directions around her. What was going through her mind?

He couldn’t ask her. Aqua had this look of gloom, as if suddenly being told the most devastating secret only she could hear. She let go of her grip and clutched her fist at her heart. Shaking, she whimpered, and collapsed backward.

“Aqua!” he gasped, running toward her and dropping the Defender on the ground. He cradled her in his arms, holding her firmly so she’d stop trembling. She looked into his eyes, her own wide in fear. She groaned through closed lips, trying so hard to speak to him but couldn’t.

Her hands shook violently, yet she managed to pull one of her gloves off. The tips of her fingers were bright red, the rest of her arm a burnt violet. It was unsightly, and- was she turning inhuman? It took her a lot of effort, but she raised it to touch his cheek.

Her fingers were deathly cold, hardened, and scaly. Like a lizard’s skin. She cupped his cheek, her thumb feeling the width of his face. He reached to hold her hand in his, which was still so petite in comparison. He held it tenderly, trying to warm it up, yet mortified of shattering her to pieces if he squeezed too tightly. 

“Terra!” Ventus landed on the ground and skidded over to where they were. “Whoa,” he said when he saw the state of her skin, “did that happen to you?”

“No,” he said, not taking his gaze away from her. She held it in return, searching his eyes as if finding a reason to continue on. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We stick to the plan,” he said without missing a beat. There was nothing else that they knew to do, and she needed help now.

Aqua continued to stare up at him, like a child gazing through the window of a candy store. She didn’t acknowledge Ventus’ presence at all, and it made him wonder whether she was truly conscious of what she was looking at.

“Hey,” he called to her with a soft smile, “Ven’s here. Look.” He gently coaxed her hand over and pointed his finger.

She blinked and slowly followed his lead, as though it took her a while to comprehend what she was doing.

“Hey, Aqua,” Ventus said, though his voice was completely shaken by nerves. He smiled, albeit it was forced and intimidated, and he shot several sideways glances toward Terra as if to beg for instructions on what to do.

At the sight of his smile, her eyes widened and she moaned with awe. She reached out to touch him, and he took her hand with both of his own.

“We’re finally together again,” he said, keeping a grin up and trying not break down. “Terra kind of sucks with cooking and it’s too quiet. I’ve missed you, Aqua. We both have.”

She whimpered in response, her eyes watery.

Xehanort was still unconscious, sprawled out on the ground. They’d better get this over with, before any reinforcements threaten to take her back again.

“We’re going to help you, Aqua,” Terra said, and she returned her golden eyes back to him, softening when looking into his. He adjusted his arms so that her head was supported better, to make her more comfortable. “It’s not going to hurt. Okay? You’re not going to feel a single little thing.” His breathing deepened. This sucked. But it had to be done. “Trust me.”

She blinked several times in response, the twitch in her brows almost begging for some salvation.

“Ven is going to put you into a very deep sleep.”

Her pupils dilated, and in desperation she grabbed onto his shirt, her strength so fragile that she scratched him through the fabric. Her face quivered furiously, and she finally managed to move her mouth to speak.

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded. Her voice was hoarse, shaky, and barely audible.

He took her hand and carried it over her Wayfinder, safely resting on his chest. “I will be by your side the entire time, Aqua. I promise.”

He meant it. It was a promise he made for himself, as well. 

Eventually she nodded, though her head waggled a bit and made circular movements.

Terra gestured toward his comrade with his head, a blessing to finally start.

Ventus intertwined his fingers together, attempting to steady his breathing. Like someone willing themselves to do something they were frightened of, he finally summoned his Keyblade in his left hand, and pet the top of her crown with his right. Hovering the Keyblade over her forehead, he closed his eyes and calmed himself. He didn’t say anything, but eventually the Wayward Wind glowed with a soft blue light. This was the spell he learned from the good fairies.

Her eyes fluttered and relaxed, gently shutting as the tension in her entire body released. She leaned more into Terra’s embrace, as if she knew she was protected.

“You did good, Ven,” Terra said, nodding in approval and encouragement.

Ventus withdrew his Keyblade, gulping. He looked as though he was slightly nauseous.

If she was going to be stuck with the gradient blue-to-white hair after this was over, she’d still be stunning. Terra brushed the hair off her face, stroking the skin of her forehead before going to her cheek. Her face was still soft, yet not as warm as it should be. She looked peaceful and carefree in her sleep, and deservedly so.

“Terra?”

Ventus shifted uncomfortably, looking back toward Xehanort for signs of movement. It was dusk now. They were taking too long.

“Right.” The Master’s Keyblade laid by itself on the ground, but Terra wouldn’t dare taint it. It would have been disrespectful in his memory.

He summoned his own Keyblade, which was used to do the forbidden once before. Wielders were supposed to be protectors of light and hearts. Even when manipulated and forced by an evil witch, Terra remembered what it felt like to pull a heart out of a body, which was a terrible and forbidden act. To wield the power to mess with a person’s life.

Now he was faced with the choice to do it again, but toward the person he cared about most. What kind of Keyblade Master could he ever be if he was doing the things that would make someone like Xehanort pleased?

He could ask for her forgiveness, but this was just an addition to the list of things he needed pardon for. 

He could tell her he loved her again, but that was a pain that stabbed hard. A sober Aqua may still leave him after all.

But none of that mattered. He still owed her freedom, and he would go that far to grant it.

Without anything meaningful to say, Terra aimed his Keyblade toward her chest, and called for two hearts.

[outroshooky]

Questions Tag!

Tagged by @tendershepherd (Danke Shep!)

Tagging: @a-heart-full-of-javert, @vankoya, @joonbird (If y’all’ve already been tagged or want to skip this, go for it)

1. Nicknames: Written, Seagull, Scuttle, Yun Mango Dango, Moon Yong (thanks @lolnxcole)

2. Gender: Female

3. Zodiac: Aries

4. Height: 5′5″

5. Age: 16

6. Time: 2:55pm (EST)

7. Favorite Bands/Solo Artists: Oh boy, there are a lot of these. Favorite bands would have to be Panic! At The Disco, Fall Out Boy, BTS, CHRVCHES, Imagine Dragons, Caravan Palace, Monstercat (technically a record company, but oh well), and twenty one pilots. Favorite solo artists would have to be blackbear, Agust D, Troye Sivan, Tristam, Muzzy, Dion Timmer, Conro, Grant, WRLD, San Holo, Karma Fields, Rameses B, KSHMR, TheFatRat, Alan Walker, Galantis, Avicii, Zedd, Loote... virtually anything electronic.

8. Song Stuck in my head: Where Did You Come From by BTS.

9. Last movie I saw: Pretty In Pink about a month ago... It wasn't a voluntary decision.

10. Last thing I googled: "BTS love and support memes" for love and support.

11. Other blogs: Nada.

12. Why I chose my username: I'm a very indecisive writer, and I erase and rewrite constantly before working out a final product. I originally selected the blog name "writtenthenerased", but mistyped it as "writtenthanerased" in a text to a friend. I didn't catch the typo until he asked me to clarify between two meanings, one of which was "Do you mean it as in 'I'd rather be written than erased'?" I thought it personally fit me rather well, and I selected writtenthanerased as my blog name.

13. Following: Twenty-eight blogs over a wide variety of topics: yourdaily, interior design, self-help, writing tips, best friends' blogs, art tips, and Bangtan writers.

14. Average amount of sleep: Either five hours, nine, or none at all. I'm a high school student, so I really don't have the concept of a sleep schedule.

15. Lucky Number: 7!

16. What am I wearing: An oversized high school band sweatshirt, a gray Monstercat Uncaged t-shirt and pajama pants.

17. Dream job: Airline pilot, professional procrastinator.

18. Dream trip: Since I've already gone on my dream Europe trip, I'm currently in the works with a friend about a Southeast Asia trip to Japan and South Korea. Owl cafés? Owl cafés.

19. Favorite Food: My grandmother's pasta, which is utterly heavenly, or strawberry bubble tea.

20. Play an instrument: Clarinet, handbells, piano.

21. Favorite song (right now): I can't pick just one, sadly: Airplane Part 2 and Fake Love by BTS, Your Side Of The Bed by Loote, Wanderlust by blackbear, Questions by Tristam, an Airplane Part 2/Havana mashup, and a Monster/Save Me mashup on YouTube.

22. Play(ed) any sport: I played softball for two years before being hit in the head and realizing that catching things wasn't my calling. I have, though, played tennis for nine or ten years and counting.

23. Hair color: Dirty blonde.

24. Eye color: Namely green, although it changes to a more bluish or brownish shade depending on the light.

25. Languages you speak/are learning: I speak English and some various German profanities. I'm currently in year two of four of my high school Latin education. Yeet cum fiducia! (Side note, I'm not responsible for whatever links come up when you input that phrase into Google)

26. Random fact: So this is going to sound really freaking weird, but I'm actually a student pilot! I've been flying since I was thirteen (yes, here in the United States, it is legal to fly a single-engine plane before you can drive a car. Lovely lawmaking, isn't it?) and have nearly enough hours to apply for my private pilot’s license (a minimum of forty). As I just turned sixteen two months ago, over the summer I will be going to a flight camp for three weeks, upon which I will take my first solo flight! I'm looking to pursue this in college and obtain a Bachelor's in Aeronautical Science; from there I'll hop into the airlines and hopefully start working my way up from there. I've always been passionate about aviation, and I'm an air show junkie who's been to shows and air tattoos in numerous states and countries. It's a weird hobby for a sixteen year old to have, but hey, I like a little diversity in my life.

27. Describe yourself: I’m an INFJ on the Meyers-Briggs scale, and a 1w2 on the Enneagram. 

To be honest, I’ve spent more time thinking about this question than was probably necessary, but I struggle to accurately sum myself up in a brief paragraph, perhaps because I’m not quite sure who I am yet. Bear with me, this might be a little long.

People tell me I’m intelligent, self-reliant, mature, and wise; apparently I’d make a good therapist, and I’d have to agree. I’ll listen to you even if you’re my worst enemy, because everyone deserves to be heard, no matter what our relationship status is. I’m a natural mediator, and it takes a lot to get me truly angry, but once I am, it’s not a pretty sight. I’m painfully selfless, maybe too selfless at times, and I’ve learned that I give people too many chances. I trust a little too quickly, but I’m also terrified of telling people my inner thoughts (what a weird conundrum, huh?). I’m hung up on the “what if”s, they’ll haunt me until the end of time. I’m anxious; I love to be alone, but I’m scared to be lonely. I hope for the best and assume the worst, and the end product is usually somewhere in the middle. 

I’m usually fairly quiet because if it’s a weekday, chances are I haven’t slept well. I rarely take the initiative in conversations, but god, get me on a topic I love? I’ll talk your ear off for hours about Overwatch and European History and the F-18. My friends say I’m sarcastically savage, but also have a heart of gold, and will do anything for the people I love. I love without abandon; I like to assume the best in people and find the good in every bad situation, seek out the little things that bring joy to a darker day. I create endlessly, through writing and drawing and architecture and dreaming. My mind is always thinking, always conceiving, and rarely does it ever stop, but I’m painfully perfectionist; I criticize constantly, from the ragged edges of my chewed-short fingernails to the sentence I just typed on a blank Google doc. I run from the past and look to the future, and it seems so far away, but I blink and I’m suddenly looking at junior year of high school and the world of college and student loans and sweet, sweet independence. It’s right here, I’m right on the verge, and just about when I think I can see who I actually am, the kaleidoscope turns a little to the right, and there’s a different design in the eyepiece.

It’s been turning a lot lately, it seems. I’ve lost a lot of people, been burned at the edges, discovered what it’s like to have everything fall out from underneath you. But you know what? I’m still here, and that kaleidoscope is still rotating, because each time another block has been pulled out, I see yet another side of myself I never knew existed, and even in just a few months, I’ve learned countless lessons about people and feelings and even my own self. Thus, I’ll keep looking through the eyepiece and watching the pieces turn, beautiful and bright in their design.

Because I can’t do much else other than hope and dream, push forward to the future, to the days when things will work themselves out, to the moment when I can work myself out.

And that day, I think, I’ll finally see the whole mosaic.