#{ Okay so I got hit with the new post editor finally and I am attempting to use my old man brain to figure out

[aaetherius]

@cxffexngel:

[ cxffeexngel ] modern AU!! || because this has been in my mind for days sFÑKDSFDf have soft time!

Unlike the pouring rains of an announced storm and a message sent in a whim. Sandalphon’s invitation fell on a calm day, with pillowy clouds dusting the canvas of the stretching blue skies on a quiet afterwork hours of sundown. A confession made in days passed and an evergrowing bond with stolen gazes and lips touching whenever extra eyes did not pry over them. Sandalphon adored kissing lucifer, adored those warm welcomes whenever Lucifer was the one already first thing in the morning for their shared shifts, or taking that mantle himself and welcome the taller with cups ready in their favorite spot under the gaze of the sun filtered through the windows adorned in flowers that never had ceased coming as offerings and all the more secret words his voice couldn’t hope to whisper to the other. The you g man resided now during one of those free days closing the flowershop, dusting off tables and leaves, changing pots and moving those that needed extra hours of sun before the evening would claim the rest of the day thorough. The slightest tinge of anxiety clinging behind his mind, after mulling for hours to pour just exactly which words to type over the phone and let Lucifer know he could come over if he wanted to, having deleted the message over and over until settling with the simplest ’ I have nothing to do, feel free to come over if you want ’ only to be replied within seconds with the most adorable message, if not perhaps a bit formal considering Lucifer’s tendencies if not to how he adorned his texts with cutesy stickers the young man failed to not blush for or ever not find them less than endearing when they were between sheep, drawn cats happy with sparkles and very colorful animated ones. Ah, he really finds ways to fall in love with this man everyday, isn’t he? With the flowershop properly locked, and turning over the ’ Open’ sign to seal it for the day, the young barista and shoopkeeper is done for the day, the welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeating every inch of his home as it rests in idle silence, if not by the gentle song of water heating over the stove not too far from the main room - and the open bags of beans and cups ready to be filled. For now, Sandalphon only attempts drowning every voice about how anything could go wrong, his coffee going acid, the temperature not being right - thinking too much like Gran often liked to poke fun at the cranky barista those days the young man inadvertently broke into his house somehow despise having checked each of his locks twice or even trice just to ensure that the pest the other adored to make himself out to be couldn’t get in. Always futile because it seemed like no lock was match against Gran’s lockpicking and his indestructible will to simply invite himself into Sandalphon’s home. Sometimes even with the girl in blue who made it even easier for the barista to simply cave in and let them stay and steal his food. - those memories are enough to ignore the impending doom that could brew should he mull over the little details about this and that. A soundless sigh slips past somewhat dry lips, tired eyes blinking calmly when attention flicks towards one of the windows as gentle breeze blows curtains into a serene dance matching leaves of branches and leaves outside, palm over his cheek scratching aimlessly any tension left that arises as spontaneously as it leaves. Only finding light within the autumn scarlet within his eyes when spotting the familiar shine of opal locks shimmering behind the blurriness barely transparent curtains of white could offer casting a shadow over that form that Sandalphon could arguably recognize even amidst a crowed street. His body moving before he could think towards the main door, and fingers curling tightly over the handle to twist it and push the frame open for the other, a sheepish smile drawn all over dusted rose pale features, sporting Lucifer’s borrowed hood and black legging the young man often wore whenever there was no work to be done, and the always needed pair of heeled boots rarely Sandalphon took off. “A-Ah! Welcome, Lucifer! ” Sandalphon almost wanted to visibly wince at how drearily hoarse his voice comes despise his initial joy - but he doesn’t, instead clearing his throat with a small cough over his palm. “ Please come on! I’m readying our cups, feel free to choose any seat if you’re tired. ” Continues, while stepping to the side giving the taller enough space so he could finally step in, and their time together start and go along however it takes - ah, how feeble his heart is that the thought alone of Lucifer in his home makes it leap into his throat, and rob any coherent thought or even the plans he mulled over the whole morning about everything.

    Sandalphon’s text had kick started his heart after he had returned to his apartment to try out a handful of new coffee recipes he had written down in his journal when he hadn’t been attending to customers this afternoon - something that had become a less frequent habit of his following his confession as the slow hours were typically spent with his attention fixed on the barista instead of a notebook these days. He’d texted the other back before thinking much about his response - he could never deny Sandalphon’s company, and he had tossed off his work clothes to change into something a tad bit more casual in a matter of minutes as well…only to pause as he was slipping out of the door with a mildly displeased Ellie seated comfortably, he thinks, on the plush cushion nestled inside of the feline backpack strapped safely around his shoulders. After all, he couldn’t leave her alone for the night - that would be downright criminal when she’s spent a night on her since he had rescued her. His unwilling companion (who would have been perfectly content to romp around the apartment unattended) aside, he had realized that he hadn’t prepared anything to give to the other. Perhaps it was a somewhat trivial notion, but despite all of the flowers and beautiful poems Sandalphon had gifted him with, he hadn’t done much in return for the other. His own knowledge of flowers had come from the barista himself, and he had little talent when it came to writing out meaningful poems. Even Michael, who had known him nearly his entire life, struggled to follow his notes. Neat as his handwriting naturally was, he had a terrible habit of jotting down notes in a manner only he could truly understand. Ah, and bringing flowers to a flowers hop didn’t seem like a suitable gift either. Sweets wouldn’t do wither, Sandalphon favored bitter and savory foods, much like how he preferred his coffee. So, quickly, the smile upon his features had faded as he lingered in the doorway of his apartment, smiling softly at the various neighbors that walked past him. A low hum rumbles in throat for moment as he strokes his chin absentmindedly before turning tail back into the apartment, gingerly removing a handful of things from the cluttered bookshelf and carefully tucking them away behind Ellie so they weren’t terribly apparent before he slipped outside to a day distinctly unlike the one he had mindlessly invited Sandalphon over on when it had been storming dreadfully.

    The walk to the flower shop is a short one, yet, despite that, he checks his phone constantly on the way. He had memorized the address when the other had sent it to him, but the rush of joy that had held his heart tightly enough that it made his chest throb was enough to make that information leap to the very back of his mind. He had never been to the barista’s home before, and he hadn’t been aware of the fact that he owned a flower shop until very recently - to say he was delighted would be an understatement when he feels something akin to excitement for the first time in years; perhaps for the first time since he had dabbled in coffee that fateful say more than a decade ago. And his hand comes up to press firmly against the center of his chest as if doing so would somehow quell the swan song of his heart as every step brought him closer to the one he loves most. For so long, truthfully, he had felt numb - the emotions he harbored had been tucked deep within him, unable to break free from the constant guilt and sense of melancholy that hung over him. He had forgotten what feeling excited was like - what looking forward to something could be like, and he had thought, for quite some time now, that he was incapable of feeling something so unbridled. But Sandalphon brings him more joy than he could have ever dreamed of experiencing, despite the pain that comes alongside it, so he can only tighten his hold around the fabric clumped between his fingers as he exhales in the humid air, and allows his gaze to wander upwards towards the clear sky. Its color paling now that the better part of the day had come and gone, but it still casts a gentle, blue shadow onto his pale features as he stops in front of the flower ship, and Sandalphon’s home. Pearly strands of hair absorb the colors cast upon them, and reflect them back with a gentle shimmer that almost makes it appear as if wayward strands of his hair are glowing in an array of dazzling colors. Sometimes, he’s reminded, the world can be a beautiful place. But, truly, he’s always found the sky to be something remarkable - something free; something wondrous, and grand. As a child, he used to dream of reaching his hand up high enough to touch the clouds despite knowing all he would come away with were damp fingers. Even now, a small part of him is still drown to the vast blue, and the gentle, creamy clouds that float through it without a care.

    The click of the door draws him away from his thoughts, and he quickly loosens his hold on the white shirt he’s wearing before trying, and failing, to smooth out the wrinkles he’s formed in the fabric before trying, and failing once more, to cover them with the light blue sleeve of his hoodie as an impossibly warm smile spills onto his rosy lips. Their hue nearly the same shade as the color that dusts over Sandalphon’s features, though the utterly fond look stretched across Lucifer’s visage doesn’t quite match the other’s sheepish one. And it brightens all the more once he realizes the barista is wearing the hoodie he had borrowed from him. And that, too, makes his chest ache, but in a different way than the anticipation that had crept through his bloodstream a moment ago. Love is a strange thing, he thinks, it’s not a singular emotion but rather a collection of so many complex feelings he can’t place individual names to that he hardly knows what he’s supposed to feel at any given point in time. “Good evening, Sandalphon,” he offers, his voice gentle and soft and full of affection. And the sound of the other’s name appears to be all it takes for Ellie to meow loudly from her bubbly, lavender prison upon Lucifer’s back as she tries to crane her neck around to curiously peek beyond her owner’s shoulder at the younger man - her keen eyes narrowing into a glare once she spots that familiar nest of auburn hair. Lucifer, for his part, seems entirely unaware of Ellie’s struggles when he’s utterly captivated by the sight of Sandalphon dressed in his hoodie alongside his typical leggings and heels. “Thank you, and thank you for allowing me to visit you. I’m looking forward to tasting the coffee you’ve made, and – ah, I have something for you, as well, when we have a moment.” It’s hard for him to focus when he’s still awestruck by the sight of the homely flower shop that doubles as the barista’s residence. Something about it seems magical to him, perhaps if only because it’s where Sandalphon lives. And he can’t imagine a place he would rather be than beside the other, yet, even so, stepping into the smaller’s home is a strange mixture of comfortable and wonderful. His eyes wander everything and anything for a moment before he shakes his head gently to snap his attention back to Sandalphon. “I’m grateful you invited me over, and I’m so very happy to see you, Sandalphon.” Slowly, he reaches out his hand to push a few strands of auburn hair behind the other’s ear - his fingers gently gliding over the other’s skin as he leans forward to place a kiss in greeting upon the top of the smaller’s head before withdrawing again at the sound of another meow echoing against the rounded window of the backpack Ellie is still seated in, and he can’t stop the hoarse chuckle that falls from his lips. “Forgive me, I may have brought an uninvited guest along. She has never been left alone, so I’m afraid I didn’t have the heart to leave her behind today. I’m certain; however, that she’ll be on her best behavior. She’s rather fond of you after all.” Fond is not the word most people would use to describe Ellie’s feelings towards rival, and it most certainly wasn’t how the feline felt to the man she had dubbed an intruder in her quiet, and peaceful life, but, well, Lucifer, for whatever reason, was convinced they got along wonderfully.

#cxffexngel #| ☩ i would bend the skies; realign all the stars in space; just to be with you ☩ (cxffexngel: sandalphon) | #| ☩ to meet with you again ☩ (verse: au - modern) | #| ☩ thread 100: sandalphon: cxffexngel ☩ | #{ Thank you for sending this! } #{ Okay so I got hit with the new post editor finally and I am attempting to use my old man brain to figure out #how to works and what the heck I am doing } #{ so if I post this and it looks like a hot mess I'm sorry GFDJKHJBFCGKHD } #{ I am not afraid to admit that I have not a single clue as to what I am doing but I am doing it anyway gfdfjghjdkhjsf } #{ Lucifer 100% has one of those cat window backpacks no I do not accept constructive criticism bvfghfdkgjfvd } #| ☩ and once again the sky rises; sincere and melancholic ☩ (ic) | #{ Oops forgot that one fghdjgfjkd tungle ate all of my tags with the update ;u.u; fdjghjdhsj }

[calamitykaty]

A Twist of Fate

Charlie x Fem! Reader

Word count:7670

Warnings: Slight Swearing, I think that’s it?

Requested: Sorta? It’s a multi writer topic by @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ revolving around the idea of y/n finding an ad to rent a date for Thanksgiving. *You can find the first writers fic HERE

A/N: HUGE thank you to @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ for reading every rough draft of this that I sent her, along with bouncing ideas with me! Also a huge thank you to @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ for supporting me when I got stuck and reading my super rough draft! 

I wasn’t gonna post this until tomorrow but now I have a Christmas Reggie fic that I want to post tomorrow so...Happy Reading.

 Y/N wrapped the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck and pulled her favorite slouchy red beanie over her thick mop of curls. Her cellphone was pressed between her right shoulder and ear as she buttoned up her navy peacoat and half-listened to her mom rattle off the preparations she needed to make for Thanksgiving.

“Mom, I really need to…” Y/N attempted to interject only to be cut off by her mother. She placed the phone on speaker and set it down on the counter while she slipped her feet into a pair of black boots. She had stopped listening to her mother’s droning voice nearly a half-hour beforehand, but her ears perked up when her mother asked the dreaded question.

“Are you bringing Noah this year honey? I know you guys like to alternate holidays with his family, but your Aunt Martha is going to make it this year and she is just tickled to finally get to meet him.”

Y/N pursed her lips and ran a hand over her face, she hadn’t told anyone that Noah broke things off with her two months prior. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret for so long, but her mom loved Noah and she just knew she would blame her for ruining a good thing. She had been dating Noah for three years and it was perfect until Noah started talking about marriage and Y/N began to realize that she couldn’t picture her entire life with him. Noah felt like a moment in time to her, not an eternity. 

“I’ll have to check, Mom, I don’t know what Noah is doing yet.” Y/N settled on a half-truth to buy herself some time. She placed her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her head in her hands.

“Honey, I need to know by the end of the week, okay?”

She could hear the irritation in her mother's voice at the non-answer that Y/N had given to her. Her mother was a meticulous planner and she could not stand curve balls making a mess of her perfect holiday plans. Her mother treated every holiday as if the editors of Better Homes & Gardens were going to drop in at any moment and do a two-page spread on her decor and perfect meal. 

“Got it, mom! I have to go!” Y/N quickly ended the phone call and shoved her phone into her pocket. She huffed out a heavy sigh and made her way to her front door, grabbing her keys from the catch-all bowl on the table next to the door. She quickly locked up her apartment and rushed down the two flights of stairs to the small community lobby. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and reached for the door but stopped as a new flyer on the community board caught her eye. She took a step back and ripped the paper from the thumbtack that held it to the cork board and shoved it into her coat pocket before pulling the door open. 

Her hair whipped around her face as she stepped outside and was met with the cool autumn breeze that had settled in over the last month. Y/N looked both ways before stepping off of the sidewalk and hurrying across the street where her best friend, Leigha, was already waiting for her inside the small corner cafe. 

“How is it that I have to drive from the other side of town and can make it on time but you literally live across the street and can’t?” Leigha teased as Y/N unraveled her scarf and took her coat off, draping both over the back of her chair before sitting down. 

“Sorry! Sorry! My mother…” Y/N rolled her eyes as she recalled the phone call.

“Enough said!” Leigha laughed, she had one of those laughs that turned heads. Her laugh was always a little too loud and sometimes she would snort, it always caused Y/N to break into a fit of giggles. Leigha had been Y/N’s roommate all the way through college and they had been inseparable since the very first day they had met. 

“So,” Leigha crossed her arms on top of the table,” did you work up the courage to tell her about Noah?”

Y/N shifted her gaze across the cafe and bit her lip “not exactly…” 

“You are unbelievable, y/n ” Leigha sighed, exasperated.  

Y/N snapped her eyes back to Leigha and held her hands up in defense “I tried! Well...I mean…I tried to try…” 

“You know if you show up stag and your mother already has a place setting for a plus one, you might as well just go ahead and bury yourself, honestly” Leigha tutted. 

“That’s why I have a plan!”  Y/N turned around and rustled through the pockets of her peacoat before placing the crumpled flyer on the table. She smoothed her hands over the paper and pushed it towards the middle of the table. 

Leigha snatched the paper up as the waitress came over and took their orders, Leigha ordered a blueberry scone with a chai tea while Y/N ordered a croissant with a side of strawberry preserves and a coffee.

“I mean…” Leigha read over the paper before sliding it back over to Y/N, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared down at the flyer, re-reading it for the fourth time before she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code to bring up the app. 

“I can’t believe I am actually this desperate to try to literally purchase a date a week before Thanksgiving.” She muttered as she began to fill out her profile. 

“Wait! Thanksgiving is next week? As in a week from today? I haven’t even made my Thanksgiving Pinterest board yet!” Leigha panicked and grabbed her face.

Y/N looked up from her phone and shook her head at Leigha’s antics “why do you need a Pinterest board? You literally do the same thing every single year.” 

“Yeah…” Leigha jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, “but I want people to think that I am making all of these intricate and super cute appetizers and stuff. It’s the illusion that I care about!” 

Y/N looked up and thanked the waitress as she set the food and coffee down in front of her before turning her attention back to Leigha who was eagerly biting into her scone. 

“Help me answer these?” She passed her phone over to the girl and picked up the knife, spreading the strawberry preserves onto her croissant. 

“Beach or Mountains?” Leigha readout with her mouth half full. 

“Mountains!” Both girls yelled out at the same time and burst into giggles. They continued down the row of questions, passing the phone back and forth until Y/N finally hit the submit button. Leigha practically yanked the phone from Y/N’s hand as the algorithm began to shoot out potential matches. Her thumb scrolled through the pictures at lighting speed before she stopped and slowly scrolled back up before thrusting the phone in Y/N’s face. 

“This one! Oh my god, this one! And if you don’t select the platinum package so that boy can say he loves you then I will literally never speak to you again!” 

Y/N wiped the jam from her chin and grabbed the phone from Leigha. He was cute, there was no doubt about that but unlike Leigha, she cared about what his profile said about him. She scrolled through his pictures, one of him playing guitar, one hiking, one surrounded by friends around a campfire. Lover of nature, endless adventure, campfire songs, and sharing the love with my friends. I’ll jump if you jump, let’s take this plunge together? 

She felt her lips curl up into a soft smile as she whispered his name to herself, liking the way that it rolled so easily off of her tongue. 

“I told yooouuuu!” Leigha sang out and crossed her arms over her chest, a smug look on her face. 

Y/N placed the phone on the table and tried to control the blush that she could fill rising to her cheeks, “calm down,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m paying for a Thanksgiving date, not falling in love.” She selected the platinum option and typed in her credit card number before clicking the purchase open without a second hesitation. 

“I better be your maid of honor!” Leigha teased as the two girls dropped the appropriate amount of money onto the table and began to layer their coats and scarves back on. Y/N pulled the girl into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before heading back across the street towards her apartment.

 She had just placed the keys back into her catch-all bowl by the door when her phone began to ding. She felt her heart begin to race as she saw the approval message on her screen that Charlie had accepted her request to rent him as her Thanksgiving date.

“Oh my god...okay...okay, this is fine...everything is fine.” She muttered to herself as she received another notification that Charlie had messaged her. She set her phone down on the counter and peeled her coat and scarf off before slipping her feet out of her boots. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and grabbed her phone, refusing to look at it until she had settled in on her couch. She crossed her feet under her and pulled a throw pillow to her chest before finally sliding up on the notification and reading the message that he sent. 

Let's get to know each other? Lunch tomorrow?

Y/N hesitated for a moment before her fingertips began to slide across the keyboard on her screen.

Sounds good! How do you feel about chicken & waffles? I know a place!

She read over what she had sent several times, worried that she sounded too eager. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his response, watching as several dots appeared and disappeared several times on her screen before he finally sent his response. 

A girl after my own heart! How is 12:30? Send me the address? 

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his response and mentally reminded herself that he was just being kind and that she was quite literally paying for him. 

500 Rue Kennedy Dieppe, NB. and 12:30 is perfect! I’ll see you then! 

Y/N took a deep breath and closed the app before her thumb hovered over her mother’s contact. She quickly clicked on her number and quietly whispered to herself “please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer.” 

“Thank god!” she exclaimed as the phone sent her to voicemail. She rolled her eyes at her mother’s elaborate message before finally being told to leave her message at the sound of the beep. 

“Hi, mom...it’s me...I just wanted to let you know that you will need to make sure to set an extra place setting for thanksgiving. Love you.” She rattled off, keeping the message vague but to the point. 

The following day Y/N stood inside of her closet staring at her assortment of clothes trying to decide what said “I'm cool and  definitely not desperate even though I paid for a date for Thanksgiving because my family is insane.” 

She pulled a mustard yellow cable knit sweater from a hanger and laid it out on her bed before heading back to her closet. Her fingers sorted through the variety of skirts before settling on a silky, pleated navy skirt that was cinched at the waist. She laid the skirt out next to the sweater before moving over to her vanity. 

She sat on the poof chair and stared at her reflection for a brief moment before pulling the small drawer to the left open and lining up her primers, eye palette, eyeliner, mascara, and her signature red lipstick. She grabbed the mason jar that sat on the right tableside of the vanity and grabbed the appropriate brushes, lining those up as well. 

She used her middle finger of her right hand to gently swipe the eyeshadow primer onto her eyelids before dusting the brush across a shimmery gold eyeshadow. She used a maroon eyeshadow on her crease and slowly blended the colors until she achieved a golden and subtle smokey eye.Y/N shook her hands out to steady her nerves before slowly pulling the liquid eyeliner across her eyelids and flicking it softly at the end for a subtle cat-eye before she carefully built volume on her eyelashes with the mascara. Finally, she grabbed the matte red lipstick and carefully swiped it across her lips before blotting them with a tissue. 

Y/N jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand. She moved across the room and grabbed the phone from the charger. 

See you soon! 

She felt the nerves settle back into her stomach and wiped her clammy hands on her pajama pants before quickly undressing. She pulled the yellow cable knit sweater over her head, careful not to let it touch her face. She followed that by pulling on the pleated navy skirt,  the fabric falling just above her knee. She pulled on the fabric of the sweater at her waist so that it slightly hung over the waistband of the skirt before she slipped her feet into a pair of black pointed flats. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and pulled her curls over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and slinging it across her body. 

Y/N entered the bustling restaurant and let her eyes wander across the tables trying to find Charlie. She wrung her hands together and pulled her lips into a thin line when she didn’t see him, her heart dropping at the thought that she had been stood up or even worse, that she had really fallen for a scam. She turned on her left foot and reached for the door, barely pulling it open before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let go of the door, resulting in a soft thud as it closed. 

“Y/N? You weren’t about to bail on me were you?” The soft voice teased as she turned around. 

 “I thought you had stood me up, actually.” She could feel the blush that dusted across her cheeks at the accusation. Her left hand fell to her right wrist, her fingers loosely wrapping around it as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes and offered an apologetic smile. 

Charlie’s green eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched up as he laughed “take the money and run, I wish I would have thought of that!” 

“Oh..” Y/N looked back at the door and then back towards Charlie, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s fi--” 

Charlie smiled softly at her “I was just teasing, I didn’t want to sit at the table by myself in case you didn’t show and have to do the walk of shame, so I was at the bar.” 

Charlie placed his right hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table in the middle of the bustling restaurant. He pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the menu, though she already knew what she was going to order. The waiter, a young kid, probably seventeen stopped by their table and quickly took their order. 

Y/N  finally looked up to find Charlie staring at her, his face cradled in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“I’m just trying to figure out why a very beautiful girl would need to rent a date for a Holiday.” 

Y/N felt herself blush at his compliment and shrugged her left shoulder “I got dumped.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry” 

She smiled and waved him off “It’s no big deal, we wanted different things out of life. He wanted marriage and I,” she hesitated, she hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than Leigha.

“You what?” 

 “I want adventure and I know that sounds silly. Like, of course, you can have adventure and marriage but Noah,” she paused, “that’s my ex.” 

Charlie nodded and gestured for her to continue, “Noah works in the financial district and he wanted marriage and kids and stability….and I barely know what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want for eternity.” 

“You’re a free spirit, nothing wrong with that!” Charlie interjected and Y/N felt her first genuine smile of the night spread across her face. 

“You get it.” 

“I do get it.” 

Y/N thanked the waiter as he sat down two beers along with their orders of chicken and waffles, before turning back to Charlie. 

“So, tell me about your family. What should I prepare myself for?” Charlie lifted the pint glass to his lips and took a sip of the amber-colored beer.

‘Well,” Y/N blew air into her cheeks and sighed, “my mother thinks she’s Martha Stewart. So be sure to compliment the decor as soon as you see her. You’ll win her over for sure...and maybe don’t mention the whole free spirit thing or you will definitely end up on her list of terrible suitors that I have brought home.” 

“Noted.” Charlie nodded before adding, “and your dad?” 

“My dad is easy going, just talk about beer and hockey and you'll be fine.” 

Charlie threw his head back in laughter and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way his whole face lit up when he laughed. She felt a flutter in her stomach as Charlie leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the table and his fingers lightly brushed across hers before he pulled back. Y/n pulled her hands off of the table and dropped them into her lap, her fingers lightly traced over the silky fabric of her skirt.

“Is everything okay?” 

Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and rolled her bottom lip into her mouth before exhaling, “yeah, but I should probably tell you something,” she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes. 

“Well, c’mon then..” Charlie teased after several seconds of silence. 

“My folks don’t exactly know that Noah and I are….done...and I know there’s going to be a big event made of it when they find out.”

“Oof…” Charlie sighed and took a swig from his beer and a bite of his food. 

Y/N felt her heart beating in her ears, “I understand if you, I mean if this is too much and you want to back out.” 

Charlie looked at her with a playful smirk, “are you actually going to eat that or?” He pointed at her untouched plate of food with his fork. 

“W-what?” Y/N looked down at her food and back up at Charlie before letting a smile slip onto her face. She didn’t understand how someone she had just met could put her nerves at ease without even trying. 

Charlie let his fork clatter on his plate before leaning forward on his elbows. Y/N watched with furrowed brows as he grabbed the maple syrup and poured it in a circle over her chicken before he leaned back into his seat and met her eyes with a soft smile on his face. 

Y/N picked up her fork and knife and cut into her maple drenched chicken before popping a small bite into her mouth, “are you happy now?” she teased Charlie before putting her fork back down. 

Charlie tried to hold back the smile that threatened to take over his face as he nodded his head. 

“So, what’s our story going to be? It’s gonna have to be a good one if I have to upstage Noah to win over your folks.”

The two spent the next hour concocting a believable, but very romantic story of how they met. They talked about their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits, and all of the little things that couples are supposed to know about each other, 

Y/N felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as Charlie walked her to her car, his left hand just barely brushing against hers. She mentally scolded herself for feeling jittery over a guy that was simply fulfilling his job, but she also couldn’t help but hope that maybe he was feeling their connection too.

“I’ll pick you up next Wednesday at 4 pm, yeah?” Charlie asked as they arrived at her car. Y/n tucked her hair behind her right ear and nodded. 

She felt her breath hitch as Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking backward and sending her a wave. 

A week later and Y/N found herself pulling on a green sequined, long sleeve dress, the hem set just above her knees. It was her go-to holiday dress, classic but not too formal. She painted her face with gold eyeshadow, a sharp winged eyeliner, and her classic red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulders in cascading curls. She sat on her bed, fastening a pair of strappy black heels when her phone dinged. She fastened the buckles of her heels and grabbed her phone, a smile instantly sliding onto her face at Charlie letting her know he’d be at her place in five minutes. 

She stood up and checked her appearance one final time before grabbing her gold clutch handbag and shoving her phone into it, just as Charlie knocked on her door. She quickly made her way to the front door and turned the lock before pulling the door open. 

“Wow…” Charlie breathed out as she came into full view. 

Y/N shyly smiled back at the boy, thankful that the blush she had on her cheeks already would mask the red glow that she could feel heating up her face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her eyes trailing from his brown wing toed shoes up to his pristine white button-up and finally to his slightly coiffed hair.

“Shall we?” Charlie extended his arm out to Y/N after she locked her door. She looped her right arm through his left, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as they made their way through the corridor and outside to Charlie’s car. 

He opened the passenger side door for her and waited for her to get situated before closing the door and running around to the other side of the car. Their forty-minute drive was mostly silent as Y/N worked to calm her nerves down. She knew that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she showed up with Charlie in place of Noah and she was trying to memorize all of the details that they had agreed on a week prior. 

“Are you okay?” Charlie glanced over at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road, his left hand took hold of the steering wheel as his right hand settled on her bare knee. 

His hand was warm against her cold skin and Y/N wasn’t sure why but she found her left hand moving to settle on top of his hand. Without hesitation, Charlie flipped his hand over and let her palm fall into his before his fingers slid between hers and gently curled. 

“Just nervous…”

Charlie lightly squeezed her hand before letting out a small chuckle “if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re the one about to meet my family.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, they’ll love you,” Y/N clarified,” I’m nervous about the terrible things that I know my mother is going to say to me about ending things with Noah.”

Charlie licked his lips as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. He pulled his right hand free from hers and put the car in park before turning slightly in his seat to face her. 

“You know that nothing she says is going to be true, right? You don’t have to live by someone else's timeline for your life.”

Y/N pushed down the warming feeling in her heart and nodded her head at his words. 

“Yeah, I know...are you ready?” 

Charlie smiled brightly at her and pulled the keys from the ignition before getting out of the car. He double-stepped around the car to the passenger door and pulled it open for her, waiting for her to get out before closing the door. 

He slid his left palm into her right hand and tangled their fingers together before placing a soft kiss on her hairline and whispered “let’s put on a show.” 

Y/N could feel the nervous energy erupting in her stomach as they stood outside of her childhood home. She took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob and pushing the red front door open. They were met with the warm heat of the home and the smell of cinnamon as soon as they stepped inside. Charlie let his eyes wander across the walls of the entryway, scanning the line of pictures before tugging Y/N over to one. 

“This is you, yeah?” The question was rhetorical as it had been obvious that it was her in the picture. She stood on a cliffside, at the top of a mountain with a bright smile on her face, her childhood dog, Rex, beside her and the ocean behind her. 

“Yeah, I was seventeen and went backpacking by myself for the first time. My mom was so mad. This family that was passing by was kind enough to capture the moment for me and my dad insisted that it be hung on the wall of accomplishments…” Y/N rambled off the story before letting her eyes move from the picture and up to Charlie. 

Charlie smiled down at her and laughed, “this is gonna sound insane, but I think that was my family that stopped and took the picture.”

Y/N pulled her brows forward so that her forehead was pinched in the middle “shut up! No it wasn’t!” she finally exclaimed. 

“Rex….the dog’s name was Rex. I remember because I thought you were pretty and I got flustered and I said something dumb about Rex from Toy Story.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as Charlie recounted the story and she felt her cheeks growing red at the revelation “well, this is a weird twist in fate--” 

She was cut off by the sound of her dad’s deep voice bellowing her name as he turned the corner. Charlie pulled her into his side and let his right-hand rest on her hip, while her right hand rested on his chest. 

“Well, this certainly isn’t Noah!” Her father exclaimed a large smile on his face and his eyes soft. He had never been the biggest fan of Noah’s to begin with. 

Charlie dropped his hand from her waist and stepped forward with it stretched out towards her dad, “Charlie Gillespie, sir.” He was taken aback when her dad threw his head back in laughter and pulled him in for a full bear hug. 

“Nice to meet you, son” 

Y/N giggled at her dad’s antics, he had always been the type to do things like that. He was a stout man with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had graying hair and a well-kept beard and he radiated kindness. 

“And you, little missy, are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your mother.” Y/N pulled back from her dad's embrace and blew the air out of her cheeks. 

“Yeah, I know…” 

Her dad gently squeezed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the two to grab a beer from the kitchen. 

“Why do I have the overwhelming feeling to call your dad pops and ask him over to mine to watch hockey?” Charlie joked. 

Y/N shrugged and tangled her fingers with his, “I told you he was the easy one. Are you ready for the rest?” 

“Lead the way, beautiful.” 

Y/N tugged on Charlie’s hand and he followed behind her as they made their way to the den where her brothers were corralled around and a card table, intense looks on each of their faces as they held their cards close to their bodies. Their wives were set on the opposite side of the room. Y/N could feel the three women’s eyes on her as she entered the room with Charlie and she knew their hushed whispers were aimed at her and the fact that Charlie was very much not Noah. 

Her youngest brother, Josh, was the first of the three boys to look up and notice her. He dropped his cards on the table, face down, and scooted his chair back against the hardwood floors. 

“Junebug!” He yelled as he practically launched himself towards her. Y/N exploded into a fit of giggles as her feet left the floor and he twirled her around in circles. Josh was three years younger than her, sitting at nineteen but she had always been the closest with him. Her giggles quieted down as he sat her back down and turned to Charlie. 

“Well, you’re not Noah.” Josh quipped with a playful smirk on his face. 

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and laughed “I have a feeling I am going to be getting that a lot today.” 

“You play poker?” Josh eyeballed him. 

“I know my way around a deck of cards, yeah.” Charlie shrugged. 

Josh turned to Y/N and lightly punched her shoulder, “looks like you got yourself an upgrade, Junebug!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother and wished Charlie luck as he was pulled over to the table and introduced to her two older brothers, Samuel and Michael. She felt her shoulders relax for a moment as the table erupted with laughter from something Charlie had said. He looked up from his cards and shot her a wink before turning his attention back to the game at hand. 

Y/N glanced back at Charlie one last time before making her way over to the prying eyes of Amy and Melissa, the wives of Samuel and Michael. The two women each held a mug of her mother’s homemade cider in their manicured hands. 

“Who’s the cutie?” Amy was the first to speak, her left eyebrow raised as she asked the question. 

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a moment with a smile before turning back around “Charlie…” 

“Oh! Well, you’ve certainly never said Noah’s name like that before!” Melissa looked at Y/N with wide eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the two gossipy women “like what?’

Amy and Melissa both shot knowing looks to each other before Amy quipped, “sweetie, that boy’s name left your lips like honey falling from a spoon.” 

“It did not!’ 

“You can deny it all you want, but we both heard it!” Melissa declared and brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of the warm cider. 

“Looks like I’m out boys!” Y/N heard from the other side of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find Charlie laying his cards down on the table before he slid out of his chair. She smiled at him as he made his way over to her. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back into his chest, his head resting on her shoulder. 

“Charlie, these are my sister-in-laws, Amy, and Melissa.” 

“Very nice to meet both of you.” Charlie beamed at the two women. 

Melissa and Amy stood up at the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen. Melissa made her way around Y/N and she gently squeezed Charlies’s bicep, “good luck honey.” 

Charlie pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tightened his arms around her waist as he felt her body tense in his arms.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie reassured before loosening his grip on her and letting her grab his hand. 

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and gently pulled Charlie behind her as she navigated through the formal dining room and towards the kitchen where her mother was sure to be found. 

She stopped just inside the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face Charlie, “you can still get out of this, ya know?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Charlie placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, nudging her into the kitchen while he followed. 

Y/N stood silently for a minute as she watched her mother pull the green bean casserole from the oven and wipe her hands across her floral apron. Her mother was a thin woman with auburn hair that was almost always pulled into a chignon. 

“Mom? Can I talk to you?” Y/N hesitantly asked, suddenly feeling less like a twenty-two year old woman and more like a twelve-year old child. 

“What do you want to talk about, dear? Because if it’s about Noah,” her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the brown gravy that was simmering on the stove, “then I frankly don’t have time to listen to your childish reasons for ending the only good thing you had.” 

“You know?” Y/N choked out

Her mother grabbed the pepper grinder and began to twist the top over another pot of food, “I called Noah after we spoke last week since you couldn’t give me a straight answer when I called you.” 

“Oh…” Y/N placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and gently pushed him backward. Her eyes pleading with him to give her a minute. She didn’t want him to bear witness to the reprimanding she knew was about to come. Charlie hesitantly left her side and waited on the other side of the door. 

Her mother finally turned around to face Y/N. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the tight grip. 

“Honestly, y/n. I don’t know why you can’t get your life together. You graduated college just to throw away your education for this silly photography hobby of yours and now you threw away a perfectly acceptable relationship because you want to travel and have adventures? You’re not a child, anymore, y/n. When is this going to stop? When are you going to grow up?”

Y/N stood silently as the words washed over her. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and let out a shaky breath. 

“I…”

“What? You what, Y/N? What explanation could you possibly have this time?” Her mother cut her off. 

Charlie pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on from the other side of the door and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. He felt her mother’s eyes on him as he quickly pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, his hand sliding across the middle of her back before he put on his best smile and made his way over to her mother. 

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Y/L/N. My mother would be insanely envious of the spread you’ve created, it’s magazine worthy!” 

“Thank you, dear. You are much too kind! I am so sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

Y/N looked down at the floor and smiled to herself at the charm that Charlie exuded as he introduced himself to her mother and offered to help her bring the endless amounts of food to the formal dining room for her. 

“I’ll go gather everyone.” Y/N shot an appreciative smile to Charlie before she made her way back to the den to gather the rest of the family into the dining room. 

Y/N made her way over to the empty chair next to Charlie, the latter getting out of his own chair to pull her chair out for her before sitting back down. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and let his thumb rub circles on the top of her leg. 

Her dad stood at the top of the table and carved the turkey while small talk was exchanged between her brothers and their wives and suddenly the question finally came from her mother. 

“So, how did you two meet?” 

Y/N glanced over at Charlie not sure if he was going to take the lead or not and was surprised when he started spitting out a story that was definitely not the one they had agreed on during their lunch meeting, 

 “I met your daughter several years ago on a hiking trip with my family,” Charlie paused and looked over at her before continuing, “my older brother, Patrick actually took that photo that you have on your wall in the entryway!” 

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as Charlie squeezed her knee before turning his focus back to her mother “your daughter took my breath away that day and I kicked myself for weeks for not getting her number and just having this missed connection. I guess you could call it a twist of fate, really, that I found her again.” 

Y/N’s mother smiled at the two of them and Y/N felt her body tense for just a moment before relief rushed over her at her mother’s words “that may be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Can we eat now or?” Josh hesitantly asked as he grabbed the plate of yams and began piling a portion onto his plate. 

Y/N felt at ease for the rest of the evening as their shared meal went off without a hitch. Her family shared embarrassing stories of her with Charlie and she sipped glasses of wine as he endlessly complimented her. Her heart felt full as the night drew to a close and her dad pulled out the last Thanksgiving tradition. The wishbone was passed around the table until it landed in her hands. She turned to Charlie and gestured for him to grab the other end of the bone. They both tugged on the bone with their eyes closed until it snapped. 

Y/N opened her eyes and looked down at the fractured bone in her hand and then over to Charlie who was holding the larger side. 

“Make a wish,” she whispered to him with a soft smile on her face. Charlie shook his head and kissed her forehead. 

“I don’t have to, I’ve got everything I want right here.” 

Y/N dropped her eyes to the table and reminded herself that as much as she felt the connection between her and Charlie, that he was just playing a role.

She looked up as the sound of chairs sliding against the floor filled the room. She followed suit and slowly stood up from her chair. 

“Do you need help, mom?” 

“You go ahead and head out honey, I know you have a long drive.”

Y/N made her rounds of goodbye to her family before looking back at Charlie and grabbing his hand. They silently walked to his car and he opened the car door for her. Y/N hummed along to the songs that played on the radio during the drive back to her place. She tried to ignore the heat that she felt in her stomach as Charlie’s thumb ran across her knuckles every now and then. She watched the cars that passed by them, red tail lights lighting up her face as they drove on the highway. Before she knew it they were parked outside of her apartment. 

“I guess this is it then…” Charlie looked over at Y/N as she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“I guess so.” Y/N agreed, her right hand rested on the door handle as she looked at Charlie, her eyes searching for any indication that he didn’t want her to leave. She let her hand pull on the door handle when Charlie didn’t respond. 

She swung the car door open and stepped out into the street before making her way to the sidewalk. She turned around at the sound of another car door shutting and was taken aback by Charlie running over to her side 

“I should walk you to your door,” Charlie answered the silent question

Y/N smiled and led the way through the apartment corridor until they stood outside of her door, her keys dangling in her left hand. She looked up at Charlie and smiled, “you didn’t have to see me inside, ya know?” 

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and shrugged, “all part of the job.” 

Y/N felt her smile falter and turned around to place the key into the lock of her apartment door. She quickly turned the key and opened the door before stepping inside. She turned to look at Charlie one last time, “well, thank you for giving me my money’s worth,” she let her eyes fall from his. 

“Goodbye, Charlie.” She closed the door and dropped her keys into the catch-all bowl before kicking her heels off and making her way over to the couch. She let her body slump into the soft cushions and pulled her phone out to call the only person that was going to understand. 

“Tell me everything!” Leigha demanded as soon as her face appeared on the phone. 

��Well,” Y/N sighed, “I think I accidentally started to fall in love with him.” 

Leigha couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that erupted from her small frame “I knew this was going to happen! I so called this!” 

Y/N rolled her eyes at her best friend and poked her bottom lip out in a pout “it’s not funny Lee...I’m never gonna see him again and now I have all of these feelings to deal with.”

“You don’t know that!” Leigha argued

“I appreciate that you’re a hopeless romantic, Lee, but I was nothing but a paying customer to him...he basically said so himself.” Y/N frowned, thinking back to Charlie’s words as he walked her to her door. 

“Oh...hun, I’m so sorry.” 

Y/N let a sad smile slip onto her face, “I’m gonna go to bed, coffee tomorrow morning?”

Y/N hung her phone up and pulled herself up from the couch. She shuffled through the apartment until she reached her room and slowly peeled the sequined dress from her body. She made her way to the vanity and grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly removed the makeup from her face before she crawled into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body. 

It was 8 am when Y/N was pulled from her slumber by her phone blaring the ringtone that Leigha insisted she set for herself. She rolled over with her eyes still closed and fumbled around for her phone before slowly cracking her eyes to hit the green button.

“What?” Y/N grumpily answered

“Don’t what me!” Leigha chastised, “there’s a cute boy at the cafe and he just ordered your order! Like to the T!” 

Y/N set up in her bed and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away in small circles. 

“Ok? And?” 

“AND?! AND!!! His name is Charlie! I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed and make yourself look decent, I will literally kill you!” 

Y/N dropped her phone onto her bed and pulled the covers back. She quickly made her way to her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her messy bed head, her curls tangling together between her fingers. 

“Shit..okay….okay…” She muttered to herself and opted to twist her hair up into a top knot. She secured it with a hair tie and ran back to her room where she threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized jumper. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she heard a knock on her door. 

She wiped her hands on her leggings and quickly made her way to her front door. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before reaching forward to unlock the door. Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. Stood on the other side was Charlie with a small brown bag and a hot coffee extended out to her. 

Y/N stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing Charlie to come in.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she took the bag and coffee from his hands. She sat the bag on the counter and pulled the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She hummed to herself as the warm liquid slid down her throat. 

Charlie stepped forward and hesitantly took the drink from her hands, setting it on the counter behind her. Y/N watched anxiously as Charlie’s eyes moved across her face, flickering between her eyes and lips several times before he lifted his hands and placed one on her right cheek while the other cradled her neck.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Charlie whispered into the space between them before catching her lips with his. Charlie pulled away before Y/N had a chance to react, his face glowing red as he held his bottom teeth between his top two teeth. 

“Is this free of charge?” Y/N joked as she placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and leaned forward, bringing her lips back to his. 

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @n0wornever @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms fanfic #luke patterson fanfic

[benmcm18]

Group 7 Independent Project!

Pre Production -

This is the second time I’m working with Group 7. It is truly an honour to be surrounded by such talented people. We have learnt from last time and we thought it would be interesting to switch up the roles. Here was what we ended up with:

Director - Jack

Cinematographer - Bonnie

Producer - Heather

Production Design - Ben

Editor - Heather

Writer - Tom

Here were also the tasks we sorted ourselves:

Write a 1-page proposal (synopsis and directors statement) - JACK (13th May)

Make the movie - Jack

Make a plan and a schedule for your work - Heather

Create a mood board (Each character) - Ben

Create a sonic world for the film (no dialogue / no voice-over) - Heather and Ben

Cut together a series of still images or sequences of footage to create a 2min film - Heather

Record some sound effects using objects you have in your room/ house - you can record on your phone. - Heather and Ben

Source and use sound effects and Atmos sound on Freesound. - Tom

Make a storyboard + animatic - Bonnie

Source footage - eg shoot, take stills, source stills, or work with stock footage from Film Supply to envision your idea - Bonnie

Shot list - Bonnie

Scriptwriting and development - Tom

Present it at the crit - receive feedback - Everyone

Write a short critical reflection on your blog. - Everyone

Songs - Everyone

As Production designer I had to create a mood board. We had discussed in meetings what aesthetic we wanted to go for and I believe we ended up with a mixture between films like “Moonrise Kingdom” and “Fight Club”. Either way, these were two of the films I took inspiration from when working on the mood board of the film.

Additionally, I had to think of the costume for both actors. For the man I chose to instead of having major differences in the two separate costumes to instead change them subtly to give a feeling he is still grounded in reality. So that means I added the glasses, changed the tie and gave him a watch to switch up how he looked. The Imagination costume is inspired from Ewan MacGregor’s character in “Big Fish'' we wanted to give him a full blue costume originally but I realised fairly soon that that wasn’t going to happen. So I adapted and decided to use his ties as a means of stating which reality he was in. When he is in the “dream world” he has a very colourful yellow tie but when he returns to his office I believe we went with a black/red tie.

For the woman, I chose to give her a very colourful look. This was purely so she could match the imagination around her. I discussed with Bonnie about possibly putting flowers in her hair but for some reason we couldn’t find anything. In regards to the rest of her costume I gave her shades so that there would be a physical separation between the two. If he can’t make eye contact with her how is he supposed to connect.

Overall, I’m very happy with the costumes and for a first attempt I’m actually quite proud.

Finally, set design. I had recently worked on a project called “Pied” where I had to create a whole set for my actors. That was pretty much my crash course for this independent project. Using the knowledge I can gain from creating that set I tried implementing it into the office workspace and the picnic arrangement. I’m happy with it but it will honestly be down to you to decide if I did a good job. If I could mention any little “fun facts” about what I did here would be a few:

I used a ping-pong table as the walls splitting the workspace

I tried spreading the food along the picnic like a wall that separated the two of them.

There is a jar of pickles in one of the shots. I don’t know who would bring a jar of pickles to a picnic but I thought it would be funny

On the back wall of the office there is a bunch of hidden Easter eggs *HOWEVER* David’s massive head covers them up!

In regards to how the other team members did. We developed the script ideas until we landed on this one. Jack had a great idea about filming some really nice shots of food. We were actually quite a big fan of this idea. I just thought Heather’s idea would allow us to experiment more.

Tom then wrote a (very) detailed script in collaboration with Heather, Bonnie drew a genuinely fantastic storyboard (she is too hard on herself haha) and Jack prepared for the shoot. One issue that presented itself fairly soon was the fact we had two actors on set. However, our Producer (Heather) handled it like a pro and we managed to get the all clear. Overall, a very hardworking start with the promise of Bonnie doing a short animation for the storyboard. (I’m looking forward to hopefully seeing it)

Production -

The shoot day was very fun. We all arrived at 11:30am and we made our way over to the location. Originally, we had planned to film on top of a hill however, things quickly changed and Jack said there was a fantastic path to film on. I was fairly set on the hill idea (As I had imagined the scene being somewhat similar to the UP opening montage) but he said it was a better location and I trust him.

So this is where it got a bit funky. It turns out the location had been converted into a dirt road since the last time Jack had been there. This was a bit demoralising as we had carried a lot of props out but luckily we had seen a location closer to the beach that could possibly work and the rest was history. That very location near the beach ended up where we would film.

With Jack directing and myself on camera we began to make our way through the storyboard Bonnie had devised. I have to be honest there were parts where we deviated from what was on the storyboard: For example, there is a section where he falls over however it didn’t look natural so we thought of another way to film it. This was where I got a bit carried away with VFX. In the long run I’m pretty sure everyone is happy with it but I wasn’t too sure at the time.

Jack did well as a director, he worked well with David and Kady especially when it came to movements of the actors. There isn’t any dialogue in the scenes so it's mainly physical language instead of verbal. My only advice for Jack would be to do a bit more research on the project before going onto the shoot because there were parts of the shoot where actors would ask questions about their character and I wasn’t confident he knew the answer.

In regards to me, I find it very hard to create something someone else envisions because I’m used to directing and filming projects on my own. I definitely think I improved on this project and having the storyboard and detailed script was a big help. I also felt I should have been more prepared as it didn’t look very good in front of the actors with me fiddling around with the camera because I had set it up in the wrong position.

Overall, I think it was a very fun shoot and it went pretty smoothly. You're going to hit speed bumps on the way but I believe Jack and I handled them well.

Oh also, forgot to mention that I had to also record sound and label all the audio and footage for Heather (why do I almost call you Clair XD) It didn’t take as long as I expected and was actually somewhat therapeutic if you can believe haha.

Post-Production -

The post production process has been going well. We have plenty of time until the deadline and we have already got a very solid draft edit so I’m not worried. I just kind of want to get it finished.

First and foremost, Heather has been doing a fantastic job editing the video. She works efficiently, takes feedback on board and seems to me to have a very solid feel on the fundamentals of editing. Looking at the edit now, there are definite issues but nothing that can’t be solved in 10 minutes. It’s clean, fluid and most of all enjoyable to watch. I’m worried without a synopsis people might not get it but I guess you could see it as “up for interpretation” haha!

Before I talk about my role in the Post-Production process, I just want to mention who else is working on the edit as well. Bonnie is planning on adding some very small animations to the edit to give it that feeling of “not-reality” I think this is crucial because without the animation in the shots. When the man defies the laws of physics it will seem really strange. I believe Tom is doing sound, I’ve supplied them with plenty of audio from on set and am free at anytime to get more for them so it will just be down to when it is completed, I have faith that Tom will create something really special with the Sound design as he will probably blend the sound of the surrounding nature with cold office sounds. I’m excited.

Now onto the part I play. I offered to do the VFX for the film and I’m very happy with them. It’s nothing incredibly tedious to create. It’s very basic motion tracking and keyframing but I think using it in small doses works well and with it accompanied by the animation and sound it will take the film to new levels of quality.

I’m just going to talk about the final VFX shot as it was the most challenging (but fun) part to work on. First, I had to figure out how I was going to get the image of Kady onto the wall without printing her because I realised I would be able to match up the shots if I had just zoomed out from an actual image. So I went for a bit of green paper. I motioned tracked it through After Effects and then played with the colour so it matched the scene. I then added an artificial zoom in Premiere and I got the final result. Now, it is not perfect in any means. I wasn’t able to track back any further than I did so the image in the paper actually moves but with the help of Heather and the use of changing aspect ratios I think it really works. I guess we will have to see how people respond.

So that is about everything on the project. I will be back to reflect next month on the finished project. Hopefully it turns out okay. Hopefully, it doesn’t turn into a train wreck. I’m sure it won’t :)

[ohemgeeitscoley]

Ben Solo is the recently assigned editor for Rey Johnson’s book about star-crossed lovers in space when the world is turned upside down and stay home orders are issued. Ben and Rey begin working together over Zoom and their relationship grows.

Or, an and they were zoomates fic.

Based on this Tumblr post. 

The one I have been waiting for (Part One of Two)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Note: This was going to be a really, really short one shot. It turned into a 12k two-shot. Whoops. This is pure fluff. 

As always, the biggest thank you to @andyouweremine for being the world’s best beta and friend. Seriously, thank you for all of your cheerleading and input and for convincing me that one more scene never hurt anyone. You’re the absolute best.

Read below or on AO3.

From: Leia Organa-Solo <[email protected]> To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> Subject: Quarantine assignments 

Ben,

Unfortunately with everything going on right now, I've decided that we are going to close the office and have everyone work from home. I know you were looking forward to the big welcome lunch I had planned. Hopefully we will be able to reschedule in a few weeks once the risk of spreading COVID-19 lessens.

In the meantime, I am going to assign you to Rey Johnson. She is working on a new novel with a goal of having the first draft submitted by May 30. I'm attaching her contact information and what she has sent over so far. Please coordinate with Rey to schedule an introduction meeting. 

Warm regards,

Mom

Leia Organa-Solo CEO Rebel Publishing, LLC

From: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> To: Leia Organa-Solo <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Quarantine assignments

Leia:

I am deeply saddened that the welcome lunch you coordinated over my many, many vocal objections to has been cancelled. I suppose we will have to plan another inner-office get together wherein I can find a way to embarrass and let you down. I'm greatly looking forward to the opportunity.

On that note, was it really necessary to use my full name in my email address? Was Ben already taken? I am fairly certain as my mother you are aware that you are the only person who ever calls me Benjamin. Would it be possible to have IT change this before tomorrow? 

I think closing the office is the right decision. Social distancing is quite important now more than ever. I'm assuming this means that Saturday dinners will also be postponed?

I'll look over what you sent and reach out to Ms. Johnson. I'm looking forward to working with her. 

Sincerely, 

Ben Solo Editor Rebel Publishing, LLC

From: Leia Organa-Solo <[email protected]> To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]> Subject: RE: Quarantine assignments

Benjamin:

I distinctly remember writing Benjamin down on your birth certificate. I'm unaware of any name change order being in your personnel file. The email stays.

The lunch has not been cancelled, it has been postponed. Despite your assertions, you will not embarrass or let me down in any get together. However, I make no such promises. Seeing as how I'll be trapped at home with your father for the foreseeable future, maybe I'll finally have time to find some of those old pictures of you. I've been meaning to redecorate my office.

It does appear that Saturday dinners will need to be postponed. However, I am working with Chewie and Luke to see if we can perhaps get them set up to attend virtual dinners. I'll keep you updated.

Warm regards,

Mom

Leia Organa-Solo CEO Rebel Publishing, LLC

-----

Ben sighed, pushing his hands under his glasses as he rubbed at the corners of his eyes. It wasn’t that he necessarily thought that agreeing to go work at his mom’s publishing company was going to be the easiest of transitions, but he also hadn’t been prepared for his name to be on the list of things they would argue about. 

It only made sense, then, that it was one of the first things. 

He considered sending another email, pushing the issue. But he knew better than to think it was an argument he was going to win. And, honestly, he was hopeful that if he didn’t respond maybe she’d never again think about coordinating, or asking him to coordinate, a virtual Saturday dinner. 

Instead, Ben opened the contact card his mom had sent for Rey, and got to work.

From:  Benjamin Solo <[email protected]>  To: Rey Johnson <[email protected]> Subject: Introduction Meeting

Good evening Ms. Johnson:

I’m the assigned editor for your next book. Leia has already provided your initial pitch, character sketches, and outline. However, I usually prefer to talk with an author prior to reading these materials. I have found in the past that going into these conversations without any preconceived ideas based on the initial workups leads to a more organic understanding of the material. As such, I’d love to have the chance to talk with you about your book prior to looking over the material.

Given the increased concerns of spreading the virus, Leia has closed the office and has asked that we conduct all of our work from home. Please let me know what your availability is tomorrow or the next day so that I can coordinate the conference. I am just transitioning to Rebel Publishing, so my calendar is currently fairly open.

Of course, if you’d rather me read through the materials and start the process that way, just let me know. 

I look forward to working with you.

Sincerely,

Ben Solo Editor Rebel Publishing, LLC

From: Rey Johnson <[email protected]>  To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]>  Subject: RE: Introduction Meeting

Mr. Solo,

Leia let me know today that we would be working together. I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts. I’d love the opportunity to talk with you prior to you reviewing the materials that have been previously sent. This is a different approach than my previous editors have taken, but I am intrigued by your theory. 

With that said, given the recent orders to stay home, my schedule is very flexible. I usually try to block out specific times to focus on writing so that I can turn off notifications and limit distractions. With the times I had previously blocked out for tomorrow, I could make an 11:00 am work? If that doesn’t work, just let me know what does and I’m sure I’ll be able to make that work.

I look forward to meeting with you.

Sincerely,

Rey Johnson

-----

Rey was the first one in the Zoom meeting the next morning. She fidgeted with her web camera, adjusting the angle until the image on the screen blocked out most of her messy apartment. She spent a few minutes pushing things out of the way before sitting back down and waiting for Ben to appear. 

She glanced down at the clock on her computer screen, sighing at the time. The meeting wasn’t supposed to start for another five minutes. Being early had never been one of her defining characteristics, but she also hadn’t had any real human interaction in days. 

The day the stay home order had been issued by the Governor, Rey had planned on meeting up with Poe and Finn for drinks. They had been on her for days to avoid slipping into a writer isolation. Poe had a lot of experience in knowing just how easily Rey could spiral when she was writing, hiding away from the world for days at a time. It had always just been easier for Rey to stay in when she was writing. Easier to stay focused on what kept her paid and fed and a roof over her head. 

She didn’t have to worry about getting too distracted and forgetting where she left off or what she had planned for another scene if she just stayed home. Poe liked to remind her that she was ridiculous and that going out also was what provided her with actual inspiration to write.

There was a balance, she was sure. She just hadn’t achieved it yet. Then the stay home issue was ordered and Rey found herself wishing that she had listened to Poe sooner. 

Not that was going to tell him that.

The computer dinged when Ben joined the meeting room. The image was fuzzy at first, Rey could really only make out that he had dark hair and rather broad shoulders. In fact, he looked rather… large, his body taking up most of the space that she could see. The image cleared and Rey took in the rest of his features, the sharp nose and pouty lips. 

He was definitely attractive. Which was not what she needed to be thinking about at the moment.

“Good morning, Mr. Solo,” Rey said, smiling politely as she held her hand up in a tiny, awkward wave.

“I would say Mr. Solo is my father,” he responded, shaking his head slightly. “But he also hates being called that.” 

“Right, so, Benjamin then?”

“No, no, no, no,” Ben grimaced, as if the word personally offended him. “Ben. Just Ben.”

“Okay, just Ben,” Rey laughed softly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Ms. John-”

“Rey,” she interrupted him with a grin. 

“Well, Rey, tell me about your book.”

Rey took a deep breath before, running her teeth over her bottom lip before she began. She started by attempting to introduce the main characters, Kira and Kylo, and their backstories, but she was easily distracted with certain points of plot that felt so imperative to interrupt and explain.

By the time she finished, she wasn't really sure what information she had shared or left out.  But she was fairly positive that she had failed to hit all of the main plot points.

Rey waited for Ben to say something. She knew that he had told her that he found it beneficial to hear about the story in an organic way, but the longer the silence stretched, the more she wished she had spent more time preparing last night to explain to him the story and the characters in at least a logical way.

“So they are connected?” He finally asked. “What was the word you used?”

“A dyad,” Rey answered. “Soulmates, really.”

“Star-crossed lovers fighting on opposite sides of a galactic war," Ben paused, jotting something down on a piece of paper next to his computer. "Doomed from the start?"

"Hardly," Rey snorted. "It won't be easy, but I fully plan on a happily ever after ending for them."

"Really?" Ben seemed surprised. "That's unusual for star-crossed couples."

"Your words," Rey reminded him, "I said they were soulmates."

"That you did," Ben conceded. "I just assumed since they are fighting for different things that one would fall."

"But they aren't."

"What?" 

"Fighting for different things," Rey clarified. "It seems that way, at first. But really, they are both fighting for a place in the world. For a family. For a balance that they are being told can't exist."

"It sounds like quite a world," Ben noted. "I'm excited to see you build it."

"Yeah," Rey looked away from the screen, staring at the knick knacks that filled up the shelf across from her. "It's a little scary actually, creating a world this complex."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Right," Rey smiled at him. "Well, I'm glad I have you."

Rey thought that maybe Ben was blushing, even though logically she knew that it was more likely just a shadow or reflection from his computer. Either way, she liked the way it made him look.

"So, same time next week?" Ben asked. "I'll go over everything Leia sent me. Now that I know what I'm getting into, I think my notes will be a lot better."

"Yeah, same time next week," Rey glanced down at the notes on her desk. "Should I send you things throughout the week as I'm working? Or save it for next week?"

"For now I say save it for next week. I have a lot of material to get started with."

"Sounds good."

"It was nice meeting you, Rey." Ben held one hand up in an awkward wave.

"Yeah, you too, Ben."

-----

From: Rey Johnson <[email protected]>  To: Benjamin Solo <[email protected]>  Subject: Earlier meeting?

Hi Ben:

I know that we have a meeting scheduled in four days, but I was just wondering if you might be available earlier than that? I’m having a bit of difficulty with the corner I think I’ve written myself into, and I am hoping that a fresh pair of eyes might help me find my way out. I understand if you want to keep the meeting as scheduled, I know you haven’t had a lot of time to go through the materials that had already been submitted, but I’d really appreciate any insight.

I hope you are staying inside and staying healthy!

-Rey.

------

Rey groaned, rereading the email she had sent Ben. It wasn’t necessarily a bad email, it was actually lightyears better than the first draft she had written at 2 am. Which went something like ‘Hi Ben, as it turns out despite my years of believing otherwise, I need human interaction and your face is the only face I’ve seen in a week and I’m slowly losing my mind. I sang to my plants. I’ve never written this much in my life, I’ve started reading the dialogue out loud because I’m no longer sure what human conversations sound like. So, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could we move up our meeting? I’m a little worried I’m becoming an insane person. I swear I’m not normally this weird. Quarantine life.’

She, thankfully, pressed the delete button instead of the send button. The other three drafts were slightly more professional, but all with the same undertone of her being slightly desperate for any conversation that didn’t involve her voicing both sides. She had tried facetiming Poe, but he and Finn had been keeping each other plenty busy. Which really, she should have expected.

Logically she knew that she could reach out to either one of them anyways, or Rose, or any of her other friends and just tell them that she was potentially on the verge of a self-isolation mental breakdown and they would be there for her.

But that was a showing of vulnerability that despite years of therapy Rey wasn’t comfortable with demonstrating.  And so she emailed Ben instead.

It wasn’t like it was a complete lie. She had written more than usual and she was at a point in the story that she would appreciate some feedback at this point. 

Kira and Kylo were at a turning point in the story. Their connection had been steadily growing stronger and more frequent, forcing them to face each other. Now was the time for them to come together and join each other or for them to pull away and keep fighting against each other. 

It wasn't a terrible idea for her to get some feedback and opinions before moving forward full speed. Her reaching out to Ben for an earlier meeting had nothing to do with her ever increasing thoughts about how he was rather attractive and his smile was rather enticing and that she wanted to see it again. 

At least, she was fairly confident that wasn’t the main reason.

She glanced at the sent email one last time before closing out of her email tab. Only fifteen minutes had passed since she sent the email and she already felt regret settling over her nerves. 

It was going to be a long day waiting for him to reply.

-----

In hindsight, Ben probably should have found it strange that he had not received a single company email in over 24 hours. Especially since Leia had a habit of sending him personal messages to his work email. Despite him reminding her numerous times that she had his personal email, and his cell phone, and, really, at least four other ways of contacting him.

A part of him knew that Leia did it because she genuinely enjoyed reminding herself that he came back to her company, that he came home. He also knew her well enough to know that the larger reason was because she also genuinely enjoyed annoying him. And Leia had to know that he would find knowing that her personal assistant had access to all of her emails about whether or not he was interested in attending a virtual dinner, if he had enough food in his apartment or if he would like her to make an instacart order for him, and that Han had been cleaning out the garage to make more room for his ‘quarantine projects’ and found boxes of his old toys and baby blankets and she was just wondering if he perhaps wanted her to bring the belongings home so that he could come get them, you know, for the future.

So, he should have known that something wasn’t working, but he had been distracted going through Rey’s materials, making notes of his questions and of his proposed edits. She was a fantastic writer. The world she had built was fresh and lively, jumping off of the pages in clear images and descriptions. She had provided extremely detailed character sketches for most of the characters, but he hadn’t found that he had to read through them or refer to them to understand any of the characters or to analyze any of the choices the characters had made simply because she wrote them so well.

It was very impressive.

He had finished going through the materials that Leia had sent him in two days. He was working his way through them again, going slower and providing more detailed notes and able to ask more pointed questions given the knowledge of where the story was heading. Still, he found himself wishing that he had told Rey to send over more work. 

He noticed his phone light up on the corner of his couch. He picked it up, glancing at the message icon showing that he had four messages from his mother and… 48 unread emails.

Mom: Servers are back up at the office.

Mom: Sorry for the onslaught of emails you are probably going to start getting in five minutes.

Mom: I didn’t realize at first that they weren’t going through.

Mom:  It’s possible 75% of them could have been text messages.

Ben: The server was down at the office?

Mom: You didn’t notice that you have received no emails in the last day?

Ben: I guess not. 

Mom: That’s an unusual thing for you to not notice.

Mom: What have you been doing?

Ben: Going through the materials you sent over for Rey’s book. 

Mom: Ah.

Mom: That makes sense then. 

Ben sighed, closing the messaging app to start going through the emails from his mother.

They were exactly what he had expected them to be. A few emails from HR and IT that were sent company wide about how to submit hours when working from home, a reminder to sign up for direct deposit if you hadn’t already, and a few guided walkthroughs on common computer and technology issues. His mother’s emails focused more on whether or not he had all of the ingredients for the Risotto she wanted to make for dinner on Saturday. Followed by an email with the receipt. And another email that went to him, Luke, and Chewie, wondering why it was too much to ask them all to make the same meal as her so that the virtual dinner felt like an actual dinner and not a happenstance of people meeting at the same time.

He almost missed the email from Rey.

 -----

From:  Benjamin Solo <[email protected]>  To: Rey Johnson <[email protected]>  Subject: RE: Earlier meeting?

Dear Rey,

I’m truly sorry for my delay in responding to your email. I was just informed that the server at the office went down, which affected our email host and I am just now getting this message.

I would love to go over this with you sooner than we had planned. I have already reviewed the materials you had previously sent, so I believe I will be of much more use in hopefully helping you figure out where you want to go next. I do find it hard to believe that you’ve written yourself into a corner, you seem to have a great grasp on the characters and the story you want to tell.

I’d hate for any future requests to be severely delayed due to technological issues beyond our control. My cell phone number is 917-555-3298. 

I am available whenever. I suppose that’s the upside to a quarantine.

I look forward to receiving the materials and discussing them with you.

Ben

Benjamin Solo Editor Rebel Publishing, LLC

-----

Ben: I think it’s abusing your power as owner of a company to go through and change your employee’s email signatures without consent.

Mom: I have no idea what you are talking about.

Mom: Benjamin

------

929-555-4593: Hi Ben. This is Rey. I just got your email and figured I’d send you a message so you have my number. I sent over what I’ve been working on. I’m also free whenever. So, just tell me when and I’ll be there.

Rey Johnson: Thanks again for agreeing to meet up with me earlier than planned. I appreciate it. 

-------

Rey threw on a blazer over the red tank top she had been wearing for the last two days when she got the Zoom invite from Ben. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror to the side of her desk, double checking to make sure she didn’t have dried mascara on her cheeks and that her hair looked moderately presentable.

She clicked on the link in the email and---

Oh

Ben wore glasses. Ben wore glasses and Rey was not at all prepared for how he looked wearing them. Really, it didn’t seem quite fair that something as innocuous as glasses managed to make him go skyrocketing up from ‘fairly attractive’ to ‘how inappropriate would it be to initiate sexting with her new editor that she had maybe spent a grand total of twenty minutes communicating with’ in her mind. 

Rey really, really needed the stay home order lifted. Clearly, she was worse off than she thought.

“Hey,” Ben greeted her. “How are you surviving the stay home order?”

“Oh great. Some might even say I’ve been thriving,” Rey rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she laughed. “At least I’ve been able to get a lot of writing done.”

“I would say,” Ben ran his hand through his hair, and Rey could hear him clicking open something on his computer. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve only skimmed through everything you sent over today. So, depending on what has you stuck, I’m not positive this will be a very productive meeting.”

“The part I think I’m stuck at?” Rey opened the word document on her computer, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “You mean it isn’t obvious?”

“I guess, no?” Ben responded, and Rey can tell from the way he’s focusing on his computer screen that he must be going through the document again. “I just assumed you were stuck on what to do after Kira took Kylo’s hand? But that didn’t make much sense either because you have such a clear plan for the story.”

“Kira doesn’t take Kylo’s hand.”

Ben glanced up to the camera, his mouth slightly open. “What?”

“Kira doesn’t take Kylo’s hand,” Rey repeated, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug. “At least not yet.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t take his hand yet?” Ben asked, and Rey has to bite down on her lip to keep herself from laughing at how insulted he sounded. “You’ve spent the last eight chapters building their relationship for her to take his hand.”

“That doesn’t mean that this is the right moment,” Rey pointed out. “I’m not sure it’s the right moment.”

“Okay,” Ben leaned back in his chair, lifting his hands to rest behind his head. “I guess I’m going to need you to explain to me what you think the right moment will be then.”

“That might take awhile,” Rey admitted. “I don’t know that I even know the answer to that.” 

“That’s okay,” Ben said with an encouraging smile. “I have plenty of time.”

-----

They ended up talking for over two hours. By the end of the call, Rey at least had a better idea of the different paths she could take Kira and Kylo down. Even if she still didn't know which one she would choose.

But they also talked about other things besides the book and Rey's struggles with where the characters should go. Rey discovered that Ben was also sheltering in place by himself. She was pretty amused when Ben didn’t immediately end the video call when she started discussing the finer points of being ordered to stay in, like what Netflix show he was binge watching and whether or not he had enough toilet paper to last.

She was oddly unsurprised when he refused to discuss his toilet paper situation with her and when he said that he didn’t watch a lot of TV and wasn’t planning on binge watching anything. Rey gave him a week before he caved on that.

It was nice. 

Rey’s mood had significantly improved half way through the conversation. She had forgotten just how wonderful it was to talk to someone else. It also didn’t hurt that Ben Solo wasn’t exactly hard to look at for two hours. It wasn't even the obvious physical features that Rey found herself thinking about hours later, although she was certainly going to be thinking about them for a while. But Ben had a certain way of moving and mannerisms that only added to them. 

Getting to know someone over a video call was interesting. Rey kept waiting for the normal wave of must look away to hit her like it would if they had been face to face. Staring at someone the entire time you were together wasn't normal.

If they had been in person, Rey would have felt uncomfortable with the amount of time she had spent just staring at him. Noticing the way his hands dwarfed the size of his coffee cup and the way he talked with his hands when he was particularly passionate about whatever he was saying.

She particularly liked how his face was open when she said something he disagreed with, the way he would narrow his eyes and shake his head, but waited until she was done to raise his counterpoints. There was something about the way that he was just himself that was refreshing. 

He listened intently, scribbling down notes when she talked about the story. Even when she started mentioning shows that he should watch, if he were to get really desperate, and he pretended to be uninterested, Rey was fairly positive she saw him write them down as well. 

They set up another meeting in two days, and Rey was determined to have at least made a decision on whether or not Kira was going to take Kylo’s hand by then.  She had to admit that Ben had made a convincing argument as to why it was the right moment for the characters to move forward together. 

Rey sat down at her writing desk, opening up the current version of her project, and began writing.

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #reylo au #and they were zoommates #my fic

[loonathevelvet]

Everything I Wanted O1: The way back home

O2

You’ve been away for twelve years, but the sudden death of your mother brings you back to the house you grew up in. In a place metaphorically — and perhaps literally — filled with ghosts, you find yourself caught up between who you are, who you used to be, and the darkness that consumes you.

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook/Jimin (I haven’t decided)

Genre/TWs: Horror, it will absolutely contain some form of violence later on. It might contain smut but don’t hold me to that promise. There’s fluff and there’s angst, but I guess a lot of angst.

Notes: I do realize I haven’t posted since 2018 yet here I am, because I really want to write this thing that appeared in my mind out of nowhere. So hello again! 

Word count: 4k

____________________________________________

Being back at the house you grew up in after all those years was a very weird feeling. You weren’t even inside it yet, still on the other side of the street. Something, though, was making you light-headed and dizzy, and you were very grateful you were sat down in the rental car you got once you arrived at your hometown. Maybe it was something about the scent of grass that hit your face as soon as the car got close. Maybe it was the old, rusted fences that surrounded it, by this point probably impossible to restore. Maybe it was the mansion’s degraded paint, and the windows, once white, now a shade of beige. Maybe it was the silence that echoed in your ears, and the way everything seemed just close enough to how you remembered it to make you want to vomit.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was finally being in that big mansion after almost twelve years.

It was, by no means, out of your own will. Was it for you, those twelve years would have turned to twenty years, and then thirty, and then forever. If it weren’t for the call you got that morning, you would never get back here, ever.

***

You recalled waking up that morning, at 7AM, and making your coffee as usual. You decided to make some pancakes, because why not? You were excited, because it was the first time since you began working as an editor at a big magazine that you would get an entire week off. So you let the calmness of the morning fill every cell of your body, breathing in and out and stretching your arms, then your back.

You could get used to that.

You picked up a book, trying your best to stay away from any and all electronic devices you owned. Your job revolved around computers. You always had to be reading something, or editing something, or researching something. You were beyond tired of screens, and the strain they put in your eyes. All you wanted was some well-deserved rest. Lazily, you sat on the couch, put down the coffee on the small table by it and started flipping pages.

It was already nearly 10AM when you decided to check your phone. You liked reading, but it was getting boring. You thought maybe you could just check if there was anything important, and then go out and do some yoga. You stood up and picked up your phone on the kitchen counter, turning its light on. That’s when you saw 16 missing calls from your assistant, Jimin, and what felt like a hundred other notifications. You had given Jimin the week off too — safe from a couple of mundane tasks you asked him to get done —, so it freaked you out to have that many missed calls from him.

He called you one more time, and this time, you answered.

— Hey, Jimin. Is everything okay?

— Have you seen the news today? — Well, that was certainly an odd question. You remarked that his voice sounded agitated, as if he was impatient or angry. Or maybe it was something else.

— I have not. It’s my week off, I was trying to get some rest.

— Good. Listen. — He paused, perhaps trying to gather his words. — Look, I don’t know how to put this. It happened earlier today. Your… There was an accident. In your hometown. And your mother, she… Hm… She… 

— Jimin, come on. — You cut him off. — Cut to the chase. 

— Well, your mom is dead. — It wasn’t anger, or impatience in his voice earlier. It was the nervousness of knowing he was about to tell you something you should have heard from your family.

Well, at least you didn’t hear it in the fucking news. They were probably either tearing apart everything she’d ever done or treating her like a saint, and you didn’t know which one you hated more.

You felt the world fall apart around you. Suddenly, it was as if your feet were directly in the center of a black hole, and everything was getting sucked in — you were completely lonely, and there was nothing and no one. Nothing but an empty feeling in your stomach. You knew, of course, that your mother would die someday. You never really cared. You weren’t really close, and she only ever tried to reach you maybe three or four times a year, when you’d vaguely catch up about everything in your lives to excuse whatever financial help or connections you might need. It always felt a bit less dirty that way. Now that she was gone, however, it all came crashing down on you.

Did you care? What the fuck were you feeling?

— Wha - What?

— Look, I am very, very sorry. I already booked a flight for you in the afternoon. Again, I’m so sorry.

— Jimin. — You said, trying to recollect yourself. — Can you book a flight for you, too? — The idea of being alone in that big house, knowing your mother was dead, truly irked you. You tried to think of an excuse to bring your assistant with you. — I’m gonna need you to make some phone calls and take care of some stuff while I’m there. Put it on company time, I’m sure they’ll understand. That is, of course, if you have nothing planned this following week.

You heard Jimin sigh on the other end of the line. You were asking too much of him, and you knew it. He had a tendency to be overzealous, and you hated to ask of him more than he could handle. But at that exact moment, you needed someone to come with you, and despite having lived for so long in the city, you had very few close friends. And of those, none would be okay with coming so far away with you for probably a month or two. You were alone.

— It’s okay. I’ll just take care of my plane ticket, then, and pick you up at three.

***

And now, that left you in the car, hands gripping the steering wheel with all the strength you had. You looked at your knuckles, slowly turning white. Jimin sat beside you. He was trying to not let his worry show through too loudly. You could feel, though, his eyes on your hand, and the very fact he was silent showed he didn’t really know what to do or say.

— Hey. — He said in a soft voice. — Maybe we should get in.

— Maybe. — Your voice sounded soft too, but the anger you were trying to keep in was showing through. 

You finally stepped out of the car, and then so did Jimin. As he moved towards the back of the car to get your bags, you took strides towards the house with all the fake confidence your body could muster.

***

The butler was waiting for you when you got there, back completely — and unnaturally — straight and a face contorted to keep from breaking down into tears. Mr. Kim was a very old man who had been working in the family since you could remember. He had seen you grow, and he had seen you leave. Most of the staff would come and go from time to time, but Mr. Kim held your family very close to his heart. You always considered him an uncle, or a father of sorts. He felt more like a parent than your parents.

— Hey. — You said, feeling heavy-hearted. You were never close to your mom. You were very much able to keep your shit together right now because honestly, you didn’t regret disappearing from her life in the past twelve years. But seeing the pain and suffering in the butler’s face made everything all too real.

— Hello, Miss. Y/N.

A weird type of silence filled the room. Jimin, behind you, shuffled uncomfortably. You didn’t have the courage to mention the tragedy, to ask questions, and Mr. Kim was clearly too absorbed in his own thoughts and feelings to pay any mind to the heavy aura that had formed. You remembered him as a lively, smart old man who would always boast about his family, and order you around because he was the only person you’d actually listen to — after all these years, it almost seemed as if he was waiting for your orders instead.

— How is your grandson? — You asked, trying to distract him a bit. — Last I’ve heard, my mother told me he was off to university. Or that he was just starting a new job, I don’t quite remember.

— Ah, yes. Mrs. Y/L/N paid for his tuition. — It seemed as if your attempt of taking his mind away from your mother was a disaster. Her life was too tangled into the Kim family’s for that to be possible. — She got him hired into a big company too. He’s a lawyer now, my boy. — By this point, a smile crept into his red-eyed face, which in turn made you feel a bit better. — He always comes by everyday. He always did, to see me (and the Mrs. too, she was always very proud of my boy), but my Taehyung has been worried about me, all alone in this big house without Mrs. Y/L/N, so he’s been sleeping here too, in one of the spare bedrooms. — His eyes suddenly shot up to you, a bit scared. — I hope that’s no trouble to you, Miss.

You wondered who he thought you were now, after all these years. You’d never turn down Mr. Kim’s grandson, even if he was a complete stranger to you. Which he wasn’t. You and Taehyung were pretty tight as children, since not everyone was allowed into your life back then. It was almost as if he feared you a bit now, as if he didn’t know you as the child he had mostly raised anymore. After everything, you understood. By all means, it was your fault that you had become strangers. Still your heart stung.

— It is no trouble, Mr. Kim. I hope both you and him are sleeping well. And if he isn’t already, move him to one of the big bedrooms upstairs. I’m sure no one else will be using them from now on.

He smiled and thanked you profusely, and suddenly you recognized the man you had grown up with. Maybe he recognized you too.

***

By night, everything was always silent in that big mansion. 

You had locked yourself in your bedroom as soon as you’ve showed Jimin in which room he’d be sleeping, and then you decided you wanted to be alone. You were already feeling lonely, anyway. You heard the sounds echo around the hallways when Mr. Kim’s grandson, Taehyung, got home, and you decided to ignore it completely. Talking and pretending to be fine didn’t seem like something you were interested in at that moment.

It was already two in the morning when you decided to leave your room, walking the long corridors very slowly and carefully, trying not to make any noise. The house was cold. Everything inside it had always felt very lifeless to you. You were lifeless. So was your mother, and the butler. Everything was either dying or rotting and the emptiness it brought you was so familiar. Almost nostalgic, in a weird way.

You reached the staircase after a while. Your bedroom was on the third floor, and you could see each step down leading you more and more into the darkness. You didn’t want more darkness, so you sat on one of the first steps and hugged your legs, resting your head onto your knees. You were sure at that moment, you must have looked very small and very fragile. Weak, even. You didn’t care, though. No one could see you in the dark.

Empty. The world, everything around you, empty. You were empty. Empty, empty, empty. You just wanted to not feel lonely in the big mansion you’d grown up in. You wanted to not feel lonely in the big city. You’d been running away from your past for so long, and you always thought the emptiness in your heart was just a price to pay for freedom. But here you were, back where you started. Still lonely. Still the same small terrified girl in that big, big mansion, hiding from your past. You just wanted to not be alone at that moment.

As if your thoughts were materializing, you heard steps behind you. You’d look back to see who it was, except you didn’t really care — between Taehyung, Jimin, Mr. Kim, and the rest of the staff, a lot of people were always living in that big mansion, and whoever it was, you didn’t want any of them to see the tears beginning to form in your eyes. You probably wouldn’t even recognize them, anyway, if they weren’t Jimin or the butler. Whoever it was, they sat beside you, and then let the silence fill the space between you.

— Are you alright? — A deep voice whispered lowly, after a while. You guessed it was Taehyung. It definitely wasn’t Jimin. He chuckled, but it had no humor in it. It was just as lifeless as everything else in that house. — That’s a dumb question, I guess.

— Do you like it here? — You whispered too.

— What do you mean?’

— This house. Do you like it? — He paused for a while, probably wondering if you were going insane. 

— I guess. It’s a pretty sweet house. 

You turned to look at him. His skin was pale, and his jet black hair was falling a little bit over his tired eyes. You didn’t remember Taehyung having such a strong jawline, or dark eyes, or being so tall. And he most certainly didn’t have black hair. As far as you could remember, at least. It had been a while, though. You’d both grown up and changed.

— I hate it here. It’s so big and so empty. I wish I could abandon it forever. I wish I’d never come back.

— Why did you? — He whispered, doe-eyes focused on your fragile figure. — I’m sure you could have stayed at a hotel. It would be very understandable, all things considered. No one would care.

— I don’t know. — You whispered back. — I wish I could tell you.

You stayed by his side, in complete silence, for just a little longer, and then he excused himself politely, got up, and left. Maybe the emptiness had gotten to him.

***

Although you’d barely slept, and your eyes looked red and puffy, you were up at 7AM. You went down the stairs you’ve feared the night before to find Jimin and Mr. Kim talking casually in the kitchen. You stood by the door before they noticed, just listening in to whatever they were saying.

— She has changed so much from what I remember. — Mr. Kim was saying, fondness in his voice. — She used to be so small, and so scared of everything. I’d send her to bed and she’d go back down to the kitchen at night. Said she heard a noise and thought it was a ghost. We had to put her to sleep again with a lullaby. — He stared off for a bit, lost in his own thoughts. — When the poor girl said she’d never step foot in this place again, I damn right believed her. But I guess one can’t run away from the past forever.

Jimin chuckled nervously.

— I guess she hasn’t been here in a while, then.

— No, no, my boy. I haven’t seen Miss. Y/N since she was a fifteen years old child, running away from this house. Boarding school, she said. Then boarding school turned into university. Then she got a big job in the big city. Always an excuse not to come visit us. But I understand.

His voice, though, betrayed his sadness. He was lonely too, in this big house. If there was one person you wished you hadn’t abandoned, it was him. 

— Why did she go away, though?

— It’s not my place to tell you, my boy. It’s not my place to tell you. — He shook his head. Was he remembering what had happened twelve years ago?

— Hey, Y/N! — Jimin finally noticed you, and smiled awkwardly. 

You wished you hadn’t listened in. Now you knew more than you wanted to know. You knew Mr. Kim had missed you all those years. You knew Jimin was curious about your past — which made you regret bringing him to your hometown in the first place. Your mother always told you that curiosity killed the cat. That was maybe the only useful advice she had ever given you.

— Miss. Y/N! — The butler smiled at you. He seemed a bit better after yesterday, even though the same tiredness you felt on your shoulders was probably crushing him too. — How did you sleep?

— I slept fine. Big house, though. I’m not used to it. — He smiled fondly. Some things never change, and he knew that a little bit of you still needed to be tucked in to sleep in the mansion. 

You sat down beside Jimin, and the butler put a plate full of pancakes and a mug of hot cocoa in front of you. You preferred coffee now, and he probably knew it, but you guessed he didn’t want to give you caffeine. He always forbade you from drinking it, saying it was bad for your health. He wasn’t wrong.

— If you don’t mind, Miss, — the butler started, excitedly. — My boy Taehyung will be joining us shortly.

— Sure! I do hope you have enough pancakes, though. — You joked, and he smiled.

— I always do, Miss. — He was right. Mr. Kim’s ability to plan things ahead bordered on the supernatural.

You thought about Taehyung for a second. The bright-eyed boy with a big smile you’d met as a child, who would always tease you for being so anxious all the time, but who also protected you from everything that could possibly hurt you. The man you met the night before, with dark hair and big eyes, and a sad, solemn aura. They didn’t seem like the same person at all. A lot had changed while you were away. A lot more than you thought. What had happened to Tae?

You never had many friends as a child. Your parents, particularly your mother, were very scared of letting their only child get hurt in the real world. They had money, power, and influence, and with that comes enemies — powerful enemies, who wouldn’t mind using a child to get what they want. You were homeschooled for a big portion of your childhood. Back then, you only had Taehyung. Mr. Kim had lost his daughter shortly after his grandson was born, you knew that much — and although Taehyung’s dad tried his best, he could use some help from an old wise man. So Mr. Kim would often bring the small child with him to work. Your father hated it, as much as he hated every single one of your mom’s staff — he didn’t bring the coin home, though, your mother did. So every day, you’d play with Tae. And although he could very much resent you for everything you had and didn’t want, and everything he wanted and didn’t have, he never did. 

From what you’ve heard, after you left, Taehyung replaced you in the big empty house, and in your mother’s heart even. And you were grateful for that. 

— My boy, did you sleep well? 

Mr. Kim’s words burst the bubble you had created for yourself, deep in thought as you were. You turned around to see a tall man with tan skin. You zoned out of the conversation happening around you once more as you took in the features you remembered from your childhood, and the way they had adjusted to adulthood. He had dark brown eyes and dark brown hair, and a very warm smile. He was dressed formally, probably ready to be out the door for his job right after breakfast. It suited him well. He looked so much like the old Taehyung from your childhood. Tae smiled at you fondly, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He looked sorry for you.

And most importantly, he looked absolutely nothing like the man you saw the night before.

— I’m really sorry for what happened to your mom. — Taehyung said, taking you out of your mind once more. You shook your head and smiled at him.

— It’s okay. I’ll get through. — He sat beside you, getting ready to eat his own pancakes. — It must be hard for you too, though. How are you holding up? I know my mom was very close to you. — He shrugged.

— I’ll get by. Do you need help with anything? Grandpa already did most of the arrangements for the funeral while you were traveling, but I’m sure there’s stuff you need to do.

— I don’t think so. — You thought for a little while. — Oh, wait, there’s my mother’s will. And all the legal stuff. I’ve heard you’re a lawyer. — You chuckled. — I promise I’ll pay you. — He nudged you with his shoulder.

— Absolutely not. — By this point, he was done with his pancakes, and was already standing up to go to work. — We’ll talk when I get back, okay? I’ll get everything done for you.

He hugged you goodbye, and you couldn’t help but be grateful for the Kim family. Without them, you wouldn’t even know where to start. As Taehyung left and Mr. Kim started going on a rant, which were sometimes about his amazing grandson, sometimes about your mom, and sometimes about something else, you let your thoughts carry you away again. To the boy you talked to last night. Who was he? You were sure you were neither dreaming nor hallucinating. He was there. Or maybe he wasn’t. Either way, you thought it was better not to mention him, just in case everyone looked at you like you’re insane. Maybe you were.

At that moment, though, Jimin was staring at you with something else in his eyes. Maybe it was confusion, or discomfort. You couldn’t quite tell. As Mr. Kim went to another room to talk to some of the staff, you tried talking to him. 

— Hey, Jimin. — You said from across the big table. — Are you okay? You seem a little out of it today. — He shook his head affirmatively, but you weren’t convinced.

— It’s okay, don’t worry about it. — He scratched the back of his neck. — Do you have any work for me to do today?

— Oh. — You had to think about it again. Jimin was always running errands for you, but being back home meant everyone was always running errands for you. It was a bit overwhelming, to be honest. — I guess you could call the office and tell them I’ll be switching to home office for the next two months. I’m sure they’ll understand, all things considered. — Jimin nodded.

You always hated to admit it, but you got your job mostly because of your mom. She was friends with the man you worked for. And because of that, because he’d be sad for the loss of your mother, he’d probably be okay with giving you more time off than he’d give any other employee.

Although you always avoided taking advantage of the privileges you had, you needed some time to figure everything out right now.

— So. — Jimin started, catching your attention again. — Are you close to Mr. Kim’s grandson?

— I guess I used to be. We haven’t talked in a very long time, though. — He nodded, suddenly relaxing a tiny bit. You took a mental note of how weird that was.

Jimin stopped asking questions about your past then, probably aware that you didn’t want to answer them. His growing interest, though, was starting to get you thinking, but you were sure you were just being paranoid.

#bts scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts reaction #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #jimin scenarios #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #bts jimin #bts jungkook #bts jimin scenarios #bts jungkook scenarios #scenarios #boy group scenarios #kpop scenarios

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Don't mind me, just losing my mental sh*t

Has anyone else ever noticed it always seems to be the people who’ve never written/posted anything that leave the most unnecessary (and often meanest) comments?

Or the people who themselves write like they haven’t hit puberty yet but feel like they can comment like a professional editor by giving advice that is exactly the opposite of what they were just saying needs to be fixed?!

Not Winx Related, I just really needed to vent. I got a shit review on a non-Winx Story and as I bitch a little about that I'm finally taking the time to address a review I got on my GOT fic, which turned nasty that I want to pick apart, but not to his face because he is not the kind of reviewer who should be interacted with, so I'mma dump it here. (Rant un-beta'd.)

Like? You really want to leave a comment on chapter 2 of a part 30 chapter fic that you haven’t read saying shit like:

“I don’t see the point its basically a rewrite”

When, had you read even one chapter on, you would have begun to see the divergence that is about to slowly snowball out of control while the universe does its best to stay on track. (yes the 'its' typo is review accurate.)

Like buddy, I get it, you've never written anything in your life and you think this is okay to say to someone because, and this may surprise you: you're an asshole.

"The point" was that it was a fun idea, "the point" was that I was enjoying the crossover and figuring out how everything could go wrong by replacing a single major part, "the point" was many, many other people found it hilarious and so did I. Not "the point" but it was also a version of Harry Potter not written by a fcking TERF.

Or:

'This Character is just really out of character, you're doing a bad job of writing him.'

Okay *goes to check their fics to see how they wrote him to see if she can figure out where reviewer is coming from. they have no fics in the fandom.* 'hey reviewer, you say he's out of character, how would you go about fix him so he's more in character?'

'Oh well, he's just not very *season 1 characterisation despite the fact he's explicitly stated to be season 3 end of his character growth story arc*, you should have him do *a thing that is something he would never have done even in season 1*'

-

Or shit like (and this is a long one from 'Richard' who hid behind the Anon function):

"This is a great fic. It's surprisingly difficult for me to optimize the protagonist. So first,"

Like? excuse you? why would you need to optimize my character?

"I really hope Sansa chooses to mine the metric tonnes of valuable honey and wax from that beehive once she gets her inventory."

So I hate to admit that the honey and wax would be a good idea, and she will be getting a boon of that, but it will be because she'll be getting Bee Hives later, not because she'll think to strip mine a people in dire straights.

"Also, she has valyrian steel claws, which she now knows can dig into the rock very easily. Those crumbling ledges? She can dig new ones, she can dig a staircase. She can widen the entrance so that her soldiers come in to help mine the liquid gold. Especially since she appreciates the difference between currency and goods. Of course, maybe she'll establish diplomatic relations instead."

So I am going to look so fcking petty when I finally get the next chapter out, because I actually addressed this idea with reality. Trust me, I did some research, and while there's almost nothing easily found on how long it would take to do this sort of work by hand, what I found supported the idea that it's stupid. It takes (and I shit you not) literal days with a team of men using hand tools to carve through even a few metres of rock (the exact time depends on how hard the rock is and how large they make the opening/area).

Sansa would be literally clawing at the walls with her nails which, while yes they are Valyrian steel, are still attached to very human fingers and arms. and here's where my first hand knowledge kicks back in: I went on a mock archaeological dig when I was in high school, I spent several hours scrapping layers of compact sand to uncover artefacts, resistance levels aside, the repeated action is hell on your muscles, Sansa would spend as much time recovering as she would digging. to get all the way to the entrance would take her literal years with Richard's suggested method.

PLUS: the point of the adventures is for SANSA (and Arya) to have the spot light, to be forced to think and find ways to use the new Abilities they've been given, or to come up with new ones. It's part of my whole "Power is Earned, or it is Corrupted" mentality, if you don't work for it, you will sooner rather than later abuse it.

AND: of course she's going to use diplomatic solutions, she's Sansa, and that's what the clue of foreshadowing was saying! Literally everything you need to know to solve the Dungeons is in their individual clues!!!

"Secondly, medieval people already had long-lasting torches which burned for hours and hours instead of 5-10 minutes. Each torch looked like a pillar or stupidly elongated torch that was carried with the tip lit and burning down like a candle. They also didn't use candles as those were too expensive. They used rushes soaked in fat which could be made by the dozens to hundreds with a few hours' work. There's a youtube video on this subject entitled medieval misconceptions: torches and candles."

Oh. My. God. Such. Valuable. Information. If . Only. I had. Known. This. When. I wrote. about. reed candles. in this. very fic.

Literally of the four times I used the word candle, twice it was explicitly 'reed candles' (and guess what other name rushes go by?) and once it was a metaphor specifically about the smoke and not the candle.

As for the pillar candles, the ones that burn for hours are too heavy for someone of Sansa's size and arm strength and the hour candles, (if you've ever seen Avatar Last Airbender, the candles they used in the Secret Tunnel) are unwieldy and aren't so good for putting down in a way that doesn't risk them going out. (Putting them far enough into a wall sconce that it won't topple back out makes it very tricky to remove it.)

Which, why even bother with torches that are more effort to obtain when Sansa's powers make the 'advantage' obsolete anyway!? Not to mention: Displayed Content! If a show uses something even in the background, it exists in that world. Wax candles aren't that rare. (Also side note, because I do my fcking research: the majority of hives which supply the honey and wax to Westeros are owned by the Maesters of old town.)

"I don't really care about those things though. The latter is a mistake literally everyone makes and I didn't know was a mistake until a month ago. Which goes into my third point, how Sansa could optimize things."

Then why bring it up, especially since I didn't technically make said mistake??

"At this point she knows she needs people and she's already given her powers to someone trustworthy. She also knows that healing is a power she can give. And she knows they're going to need this at least as much as medics. And there are indeed people she trusts whom she hasn't approached with an offer of power. Ned Stark, Catelyn Stark, Lyra Mormont of Bear Island, and Tyrion Lannister. Tyrion Lannister can wait but not forever. Lyra should be approached as soon as possible."

NO. Arya was the exception, not the rule, Sansa isn't going to just go off and give her god-blessed powers to anyone else. I was hesitant to give it to Arya as it was, and only let myself because I could use the 'Arya's God is Death, there's more stakes than you thought' to fully justify it.

Tyrion as he is can't be trusted, and future Tyrion chose Dany over Sansa, neither Sansa nor Arya know how his story ended, so as far as they are concerned he's a good ally, but not actually trust worthy enough for this.

For those of you confused, Lyra Mormont is one of the daughters of the Lady Maege Mormont, and one of Lyanna's sisters. Lyra got maybe two mentions in the books and nothing in the tv series so I can only assume Richard meant Lyanna, who is currently 2 years old! But we'll come back to this, because Richard sure did!!!

As for the medic thing, I really hope Richard meant he was fcking off for good in his final word, because if he comes back, I really don't want him to think he's responsible for the medic corps that I've been planning and attempting to foreshadow with Sansa approaching Luwin, and Beth and Jeyne following Sansa's lead with archery.

Like, oh hey, guess which unfortunate field medic bride of a Stark might find her way to Winterfell if she hears about young women being trained in some basic healing to help Maester Luwin deal with any cases of over flow of patients. That's right, I'm planning for triage nurses! No magical powers required. 

"I assume she's going to get glass from Lys through the Tapestry of Doors. For that she's going to need tokens. She's going to need tokens for everything, and she already knows it. So collecting and hoarding tokens should be a big priority for her. And that means going places where there are tokens to be got. Places she hasn't gone to yet, like The Wall and Bear Island. Just to get tokens."

No. Again, just NO! Sansa already stated that Tokens and relying on them were a thing that would come back to bite her, she'll horde them as she finds them, but she's not going out of her way to find them because she has things to do! Also: the Tapestry of Doors was a piece of Flavour text for way late in the fic if it ever came back, and like a Stargate, requires one at each end, so someone would have to travel to Lys anyway, which is dumb when Sansa now has a Loom which can copy any 'raw' material, and the ability to convert that 'raw' material' into any object she has the blueprint for, which she can get by 'scanning' with her console.

She just has to put 2 and 2 together!!

"She also knows there are dungeons in each place, and that she needs to get to them. And that it's better if she gets in with people. Like people Lyra trusts to whatever dungeon is in Bear Island."

The thing about the Dungeons is that the whole thing is for Sansa, some of them will have special requirements, but very few of them are crucial, they're just there so Sansa has a place and a trial to obtain Unique Items of game breaking power or ability.

"The last way to optimise her powers is one I don't think she'll take even though it has a lot of benefits. Going with a squad of soldiers into the Dreadfort's dungeon in order to confront the walking dead, with hit and run tactics slowly draining the population there. The main benefit and reason to do this is to harden and blood the soldiers to prepare them for the Long Night, so she should have the soldiers on rotation in order to expose as many as possible to the horrors to come."

Problem is the undead in the Dreadfort Dungeon aren't the same as the Wights and White Walkers, they can just be killed in the same ways. The idea of these kinds of fics is that by the time the Long Night Comes, Sansa and Arya can do most if the heavy lifting. You are right that Sansa wouldn't risk her people for some EXP though.

Sansa will be going back though, there's a pair of Shears and Needle in there.

"Also, the loot should be great. Perhaps another loom. But I would do it even for more bobbins. Or nothing at all."

Literally the Loom is a one off item. It is super powerful with what it can do in the context, so having more than one would ruin the power balance I've been trying to keep between Power Fantasy and OP Bullshit.

-

Someone of course pointed out that (Richard said Lyra, but responder said Lynna) Lyanna was currently literally 2 or 3 years old, she can't do shit. (they also brought up that 2 (actually 3) characters had already declined the super powers, because it included bad timeline memory downloads.) Guess how Richard took that?!

If you guessed "not well" you get a cookie!

Seriously, I was kind of annoyed at his review because^^^ reasons he was wrong about stuff, but also the arrogance of 'telling me how to optimize my character' was just, icky, so I was just going to ignore him.

But then he went (in response to the other reviewer):

"(snort) I think you need to recall what Lyanna Mormont is like at 10 years of age. She is a force and she is in charge. And what exactly is your objection, that Sansa needs consent or is preserving innocence?"

No moron, the objection is that she's literally 2 or 3 years old, what the fck is she going to do in her tiny little body? But yes, now that you mention it, Sansa (was assaulted and lost her bodily autonomy, she) would place a huge amount of importance on consent, it's one of the reasons she was so upset by Arya taking advantage of her sleepy state to get her to agree.

"Lyanna Mormont wouldn't care. Jon and Robb care, that's why their sister cares. Lyanna would never thank Sansa for trying to preserve her innocence, keep her ignorant, or keep her weak. She would be insulted."

Lyanna is literally 2 or 3 years old, she doesn't know enough to care or be insulted by not being told that she's lost the chance to remember several years of horrific shit before being violently murdered.

Also I notice you didn't say anything about the name correction. Got it wrong the first time did you?

"Which leaves only respecting Lyanna's will. Or her mother's will maybe. Or at least informing them of what she's decided to do before she does it so they can prepare. But Sansa gains nothing by not asking."

And what would she gain by asking? also nothing. Lyanna is 2 or 3 years old. Also the fic isn't about her. Why would Sansa even trust her? The child who thought she could judge Sansa for being unable to stab her way out of some horrible places? who scorned Sansa because she was femme? Because Sansa's strength isn't the same as hers so Lynna decided Sansa didn't have any?

Lynna chose Jon to lead the North over Sansa who had a better claim to the throne, Jon, who spent the entire 8th season saying how much he doesn't want to be king, Jon who legit just tried to walk away from the Command of the Nights Watch.

"And this brings up another issue, the fact Sansa never decided FOR Jon and Robb cuts both ways. She informed them of their choice and she let them make it."

"Sansa didn't keep them in the dark without informing them of the decision she was making for them, as you seem to want to do, since that definitely isn't the right thing to do. Mushroom management is a shit heap."

The boys were already aware that something was up, Sansa had nothing to gain by lying, and she made the offer before she realised the memories were a thing.

"The question to ask a toddler is "do you want to grow up?" it's not a difficult question to ask and it does have a meaningful answer. And that's the problem you have, because you already know Lyanna Mormont would say yes and you want her to say no. That's why you want the question never asked."

"You want to pretend that Lyanna Mormont, DEFINITELY in charge of bear island at 10 years of age, is a gormless wimp like 25 year old Jon Snow who refused to be king and refused to even THINK whether or not Daenerys would be a good queen by constantly uttering the refrain "she is my queen"."

Laynna was in charge because she was the last of her family, everyone else was lost fighting someone else's war. More importantly: she's not even part of the equation? Why would Sansa travel to Bear Island to ask a 2 or 3 year old if she wants to become an angry and traumatised 10 year old in a 2 or 3 year old body which will feel like a prison because she's not as tall or fast as she used to be, because she can't lift or climb or jump or ride or fight like she used to.

And for what? a few super powers she has to ask Sansa for? For mental trauma her family and friends cannot comprehend?

But no, have a look at the part where Richard really started to cross the line:

"No, Lyanna Mormont wants power, wants to grow up, that is obvious. And you're an obstacle in her way. She would hurt you for standing in her way, probably smashing a mace in your knees. And you're so weak that yes you would in fact be hurt by a 2 or 3 year old toddler. She killed a giant and she would have no problem killing you for daring to think you're a giant."

"Stand aside little man and let Lyanna Mormont have her glory."

Now I don't know what this guy's obsession is with Lyanna, but that sounded like a threat to me. Like, who tells people that a fiction character would physically maim or murder a real person just for pointing out said fictional character is 2 or 3 years old?

Lyanna doesn't want power? She's not that kind of person, even if she is fictional? More importantly:

Neither I nor the reviewer were 'standing in her way' because she's a fictional character who's not even in this fic!!!

But his behaviour was pretty shit, so I told him to knock it off or I was going to turn the review filters on.

That went about as well as you might expect.

So I was All:

[I don't know what you think you mean by 'optimize the character' but half of your assumptions are wrong, the rest run counter to my pre-existing plans and I don't care for your overall demeanour. I was prepared to leave your post be, but your recent reply is inappropriate and uses language which runs VERY close to sounding like a death threat, which I DO NOT APPRECIATE. I don't want to be 'that bitch', but I am going to ask you to please be respectful, or I will be turning on the comment filters.]

Because I don't Know if you know this but AO3 has three filters in the privacy tab of every story posted:

1] “Only show your work to registered users”

this means that you MUST be logged in to an AO3 account to even find it let alone read it

2] Disable Anonymous Comments

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3] Enable Comment Moderation

doesn't matter what you say, with out Author OK, your review will not be showing up in the comment section.

(… tumblr just did that thing again where it refreshes in the middle of my thousands of words of text and loses all my stuff, it is literally making me want to kill myself. Because I have to retype all the responses from the next fcking section. It's my own fault for not just using a word document, but also: fck tumblr? For being stupid?)

So, from here Richard had three options:

1- Apologise and move one

2- say nothing and pretend it hadn't happened and move on

3- He went with this:

“Your Sansa Stark is weaker than canon Sansa Stark. It's true your Sansa Stark has a strictly higher level of ambition than Sansa Stark. But what she uses in order to achieve her goals, her resources, is weaker.”

“She uses actions, capabilities and skills. She uses embroidery, archery, learning (archery), she uses the people she already knows but not strangers. She uses and manipulates the people she can interact with, learn from, act upon. The level of people that is directly equal to skills.”“

She doesn't use language, nor does she use strangers. Strangers are the level of people that don't require interaction but DO require language to deal with. And your Sansa Stark's language is too weak. When she manipulates the maid in the Dreadfort, it's entirely accidentally and unintentionally.”

Sansa has seen what power does to people, she's seen what lies ahead for the manipulators of the world, she's been taught at the side of Cersei and Petyr, and she does not want to become them. For all the horrific things she's gone through, Sansa came out the other side with her compassion intact, possibly even stronger than before.

“She talks to Domeric only because she's already interacted with him, she's been healing him for days by that point. She fakes Green Dreaming to her father because she knows her language is inadequate and will achieve nothing. The way her father and mother treat her, they know mere words would be inadequate. And they would dismiss any words she said. "Haven't we told our children dreams can't hurt you?"”

She doesn't want to interact with Domeric, he looks like the man who violated her repeatedly, killed her brother and sacked her home. She wants to be as far away from him as possible. When she does end up interacting with him, despite being so sleep deprived it's a wonder she hadn't started hallucinating, she manages to win him over pretty easily.

She fakes Green Dreaming because “a god made me time travel” is not only a ridiculous concept but a foreign one as well. Why would Sansa tell her parents that when it would mean admitting to going through some horrific shit, to letting her family down and being let down by her family when Green Dreams are a known thing which explains her knowledge. It's not inadequacy, it's efficiency and an attempt to hide horrible things.

I need to point out that “Haven't we told our children that dreams can't hurt you?” is said by Catelyn in self-recrimination afterwards, and is said specifically to reference the reason Sansa might not have felt she could go to them with her problem was because it was based on dreams. Because what parent would take dreams as a serious threat unless they were a Nightmare on Elm Street survivor, especially since Green Seers have become so rare they've been relegated back to myths and stories by the time Jojen and Bran show up.

“Language requires actions such as mouthing, shouting, tonguing, but actions will never add up to language. Actions are necessary but NOT SUFFICIENT for language. This is why you can't write a single damned sentence with only actions. Try it, you won't be able to.”

I can't take this paragraph seriously if only because of the use of the word 'tonguing'. FFS, he sounds like a small child trying to convince people he's got a PhD. 'If I throw out some big words and phrase them right they'll sound 'academic' and I'll look smarter!

'I know this probably isn't what Richard meant but: Sign Language? Is literally all actions?

(Obviously real language requires thoughts and concepts to be communicated to be a language, but even the most primitive of body movements can express something: I'm hot, I'm hungry, I'm angry, etc. It might not be true language, but it is communication, which is the basis of language, the reason we made language in the first place.)

“Canon Sansa Stark had dreams, plans, and designs on what others have. She wanted to wed a prince, she had designs on the princess position. She wanted out of King's Landing. She wanted Winterfell. She wanted the Knights of the Vale to fight ... FOR HER.”

“People who had never met canon Sansa Stark in their entire lives fought and died for canon Sansa Stark's benefit. For the designs of a (her words) stupid girl. And sure, her initial designs were stupid. And they only rose up to being pathetic. But they were designs, they were dreams, they were plans.”

I need to talk about my interpretation of Sansa for a minute, because that's what I've been writing: my interpretation of Sansa.

Sansa was raised with an idea of how the world should be, not how it was. She was raised loved and protected and surrounded by men of honour. Fed stories of heroes, brave knights and valiant princes, where good always triumphed, or was romantically defeated and beautifully tragic.

She wasn't raised to expect dishonourable men and hidden motives, she wasn't raised expecting a (metaphorical) dagger in her back.

She didn't want the crown, she didn't want the throne, she wanted “the prince” from her stories, who would cherish her and care for her and give her a family filled with love. And yes the pretty dresses and the shiny jewels and the adoration and praise. But she never wanted power, that came later.

Later after she'd seen the cracks in the world and the grime beneath the gilding, when she'd learned friend and foe were often the same, that people with power would hurt her, use her, that she was nothing but a trophy to them.

Sansa wanted power because “if I'm the one with the power, then they can't hurt me any more, if I have the power I'll be safe, if I have the power then I can protect people, if I have the power I can stop people like that.”

But Sansa has never had power, it was always borrowed, an illusion that could vanish at one misstep. She had no money of her own, her blood made her valuable to others as a trade commodity, but gave her no personal power.

When people fought for her, it was never really about her.

Petyr gave her armies so he could win favour so he could use her as a proxy for her dead mother. Brienne fought to fulfil an oath to Sansa's dead mother.

The Men of the North fought for Winterfell, to get revenge on the Boltons. The Wildings followed Jon Snow. And when it was over, it was Jon who was crowned king, not Sansa the one who had to talk him into getting back their home in the first place.

Her parents and Robb fought for her, but their armies fought for House Stark, for the insult Sansa and Arya's capture and Ned's death presented.

“Your Sansa Stark has no plans, has no dreams, and certainly has no designs. She doesn't use language, because her language is too weak and has no power. She doesn't use her emotions or feelings because they are brittle and far too weak to be used. Weaker even than the emotions and feelings of a stupid girl. She doesn't use her mind or intellect because she doesn't cogitate. She uses skills and ONLY skills. To try to fake everything else.”

It's odd that he says this when he started off this response by saying my Sansa was more ambitious than canon Sansa.

First of all: I thought I was making it fairly clear that her goals were: save her family, save the North, stop the White Walkers.

Her dreams are to never be beholden to another man ever again.

Sansa wants her family alive, she wants to be safe and she wants to be free of all the political manipulations she had to sit through in the first timeline.

Second of all: Richard has clearly never been assaulted in his life in any way and I am so fcking happy for him. Really.

Look, people who suffer long term trauma, (or short term, it doesn't matter how long really) are not magically okay afterwards. The idea that sexual assault makes femme women strong is disgusting and so toxically prevalent in movies and shows and books these days its... horrific. You'll notice butch women like Arya aren't typically assaulted to be strong, because they're already so 'manly'. It was a genuine surprise when they tried to have Brienne assaulted, but that was more about showing how much of a 'good guy' Jaime was than Brienne.

You can really tell in several places that the tv series had non-con fetishists on staff.

Sansa is so brittle now, because she feels safe enough to let herself feel the fear she wasn't able to earlier, to work through the panic and the anger and all the emotions she couldn't before.

“Your Sansa Stark plans to use skills in order to change the world. And since it's obvious the world isn't run by woodcutters or farmers or archers or anyone else defined by their SKILLS, she will fail. She will fail abysmally, totally and catastrophically. She hasn't got the slightest sliver of a chance.”

Quick tally: Sansa has managed to convince her parents she had knowledge of the future, put them on track to realising Petyr Baelish was stealing from the Crown, got Stannis curious in Dragonstone, came up with a plan to gain favour for the North by helping to pay of part of the Crown's debt and has begun working on a plan to ensure more food is available for the Northerners when Winter arrives.

Not to mention, (and you'd easily miss this): Sansa has begun influencing a shift in the young women of the North who had previously been influenced by the South.

The thing is, Richard seems convinced its about the looting and the grinding, 'kill enough stuff and you become a God!' but it's not.

“So you stacked the deck in her favor. You put a high tier deity on her side. Now Sansa has a slim chance to squeak out a win, using the power she's borrowing. But here's the thing, it will never be HER win because it isn't HER power, it isn't HER plans. Your Sansa Stark has no plans, but her deity does, even if they're stupid plans of puerile amusement-seeking. So IF there is a victory at the end, it will never be Sansa Stark's victory, it will be her deity's. Because she is only a pawn, a tool, a peon, a minion.”

Richard doesn't seem to understand what the introduction of Arya's God means for the lore. The amount of death from the wars is causing Bad Things in the back ground of the original timeline.

Sansa isn't the Being's pawn, she's their start player, the Being is a sponsor who's giving Sansa the chance and resources to be greater than she was. It's not about 'puerile amusement-seeking', but how do you tell a young woman who's gone through what Sansa's gone through that the fate of the entire human race is in her hands, that if she fails it won't just be her family that falls.

If Sansa thinks the Being just wants amusement, then Sansa will act as she pleases and hope it's good enough, which puts her closer in line with saving the world than if she's actually trying to save the world, because that is a much bigger task than 'stop the issues that got my family killed'.

The Being is only victorious if Sansa is, it's their shared victory.

Now up until this point Richard has been an arrogant tool, but it might almost seem like he's being reasonable. This is where he loses the plot and just starts back on his favourite fall back: threatening people with violence.

“Now generally, when an author writes a protagonist who is a pawn, a tool, a peon and a minion of a higher power, when they write a protagonist who is WEAK, it's because they themselves are weak. Generally doesn't mean universally however, so I had to know. And now I do. You are weak Jasper.”

“You want to convince me of something Jasper. You want to convince me that I'm wrong, that my opinion is wrong, that my position is wrong, you want me to change my mind, you want me to know my plans and judgment are wrong. Because they're in conflict with yours. But how do you achieve this? By threatening me with your borrowed power. Exactly like your Sansa Stark.”

Did he have to google the list of synonyms there?

I don't know what it is about being referred to by name, but it bugs me that he chose to use only a portion of my pen-name like we were somehow familiar, rather than not using my name or referring to me as OP or something along those lines.

Also I really have to disagree that only weak people write about people being weak, but I don't think his opinions of weak and strong match with mine either. 

He is wrong, but more importantly: he threatened someone with violence for daring to correct him.

I wasn't threatening him, I was warning him to stop being an asshole or I would disable anonymous commenting.

“You do this because you're weak. And what do we call weak people who complain about strong people's actions when they are the bitches of higher powers? We call them exactly what you "don't want to be", we call them bitches. You are a bitch to higher powers and you bitch about higher powers like me. You bitch about people who can use their intellects. And for a good reason too.”

“You fear my attitude because I am the bitch slapper. I slap little bitches like you all fucking day long every single day. It doesn't matter to me who it is, whether it's my own friends who are bitching, I slap them for it. And you will never ever convince me that you're right. Because you're weak. And because I don't respect bitches.”

Look, I've seen enough therapists of different varieties to pull off some impressive psych 101 bullshit so I can tell you right now: Richard is a man who has never held any real authority in his life, he has mediocre skills at best and often feels talked down to because he feels more entitled than he is and no one treats him like a god for breathing. He refuses to back down when wrong even in the face of evidence and then he pouts because the world didn't shift to match his delusions.

The worst part is I know this, and I know I shouldn't let this bother me. But it does. But it shouldn't and I can tell him to his 'face' via review reply why he's wrong, or he'll know it bothers me, then he'll feel validated, even though he's wrong. And he'll probably threaten someone with more violence and then I really will have to disable anon comments and effectively punish some readers who did nothing wrong.

“So what are you going to do to me that I care about? Stop me from reading your fic? You don't have that power. Stop writing it so that I can no longer learn how your mind works, my ulterior motive? That would be cutting your nose to spite your face. You would suffer far out of proportion to me. I would just move on to some other author. Report me? Go ahead, I don't care. Really, we're done here, so have a nice life.”

Yes I do, literally the first of the privacy filters would stop you from reading, but that would hurt my other readers who don't have an account.

'Ulterior motive'? Buddy, you apparently don't understand how any mind works.

Again: if you don't care why bring it up?

Are you really leaving though? Do you promise?!

“The only thing you could ever do to me is surprise me by ceasing to be a weak little bitch. Or even resolving to not be one. This would invalidate all of my predictions by rising to my implied challenge. That's what I like, win-win. (lol) I'm not holding my breath though.”

I don't have anything to prove to this douche tool and it bothers me that this is bothering me so much!!!! The worst part is, this review came at a time when my attention for the fic was flagging, so I'll never know if it was really this review or not that made me stop writing for the past few months?

Those of you with an AO3 account who drop by my profile to see if I wrote anything interesting may have noticed my recent 'for archive users only' locked fic. I can confirm that yes: to mental detox this review I went and watched a Chinese Xianxia drama that has become my new hyper-focus. Almost 100 plot bunnies are being posted into the locked fic in an effort to purge it rom my brain so I can get back to what I was doing. It seems to be working. I wrote about 1000 words for Episode: Sisterhood this week, so the chapter is almost done. At last!

#just blog stuff #i’m just bitching now #absolute aggro #swearing #op would like to die #not winx or alt con related #i'm just really angry about it even though I know I should know better #eleven pages of op being an angry incoherent mess

[ifbrd]

Huggy’s Log (WordGirl Fanfic)

This is my first posted WordGirl fanfic! I’m so excited! There’s probably a lot more editing I could do, but my brain is fried and I’ve reread it so many times it’s getting hard to find errors and things to edit. 

Summary: A retelling of WordGirl and Huggy’s origin story, told from the perspective of Huggy and written (or attempted to be written) in the form of a captain’s log.

According to one of the writing editor websites I used to help me with this, it’s about a 10-minute read.

So here we go. I hope you enjoy :) 

Huggy’s Log

Captain Log: 7 03 7: Captain HuggyFace

My mission was simple: transport resources back to Lexicon from one of our allies. I regret to report that I have failed said mission. This is to no fault of my own—or anyone for that matter. And don’t think I regret my actions. Given the circumstances, I am proud of how I handled the situation.

Everything started fine. My ship was brand new, met all the new safety standards and had plenty of fuel. I knew my exact course and the time frame I'd arrive. Knowing this would be a long trip, I decided to take one more long look at Lexicon.

This, I assume, is when my stowaway snuck onboard.

 I'm not sure how long it’d been. I wasn’t paying attention to the time. My surroundings had been distracting me. It can be hard to focus when you're flying through the beautiful inky swirls of indigo and violet. And the gleaming stars sprinkled everywhere are mesmerizing as well. It’s always a breath-taking sight, at this point I expect to be a little inattentive. Despite dodging planets, asteroids, and satellites, it was one of my smoothest rides. Since I was in no rush, I relaxed and took it all in. At one point, a meteor soared passed the ship that I masterfully avoided. But it caused a slight bit of turbulence. I’m sure this is what awoke the stowaway.

Up until I heard a soft little yawn in my ear, I was positive I was alone. So, it makes perfect sense that this sound startled me—startled me. It did not scare me! In my startled jump, I somehow managed to launch myself from the pilot chair. I took a moment to catch my breath. Bravely, I leaped back into the pilot seat. I was ready to unleash a full attack on my intruder—only to discover my intruder was a small child.

I didn't know what to think as I watched this toddler in my ship, rubbing her tired little eyes and wobbling up and down. She gripped onto anything within her reach. At one point she dropped to the ground and had to pull herself back up. Cute kid. After she fell, she ungracefully brushed her pigtails out of her face. It made me chuckle.

But what was she doing on my ship? Where were her parents? Did they know she was here? Should I fly her home, or would someone rather come to get her? There were millions of questions flooding my brain. So many, that I failed to notice the impending meteor shower. Thank the stars the gravity stabilizer was on. Things would have been so much worse if we had been bouncing throughout the cabin.

An aggressive jolt threw us to the floor. Firing myself back into the pilot seat, I scrambled for the controls. My instincts were to make sure the kid was alright from the hit. But I knew that wouldn't matter if I didn't get control of the ship.

I soon realized something was wrong. It took me a moment, but it did click: the engine had fallen off! I swear I saw it flying through space!

The ship was spinning like a top. We were hurdling at unimaginable speed into a system in the Milky Way. The “DANGER” light was flashing and buzzing, and I wanted to yell “I know!” at it, but then I’d be talking to a light bulb.

At this point a crash was inevitable. Our last hope was for me to adjust the wings to slow us down and angle us in the best position for impact.

I grabbed the steering and the instant we hit the atmosphere of a planet, I pulled up. Time slowed. It was the longest, hysteria filled millisecond of my life. I could feel the nose of the ship being forced upward.

When I saw the ground fast approaching, I clenched, shut my eyes and braced myself for the end.

 I had to get up. I would have much rather laid there until the swirling in my head stopped, but I had to get up. Once I blinked away my blurry-eyed state, I found myself upside-down on the dashboard. A rush of pain flooded through my head as I pulled myself into a sitting position. It took me a second to realize the ringing I was hearing wasn't coming from the ship, but my own head. Shaking off the dizziness, I stood on my feet and stretched my aching muscles. I was in agonizing pain, but I was alright. As long as I could walk and get the little girl somewhere safe, I was fine.

The girl. Where was the girl? She couldn't have escaped the cabin, but I didn't see her. I started scouring the room in a panic and tore it up before I discovered her trapped under the dashboard. On the verge of tears, she was struggling to free her little foot from the bent brake pedal.

“Hey, hey,” I whispered. “I got it, I’ll get you out of there.”

After loosening her foot from the brake, she started crying. I wasn't sure what to do, little kids intimidate me. I picked her up and started bouncing her around. “It’s alright, you’re okay,” I soothed until I saw the scrapes and scratches. “well, you’re mostly okay…”

Six or seven silly monkey faces got her to stop crying and start giggling. I took her to the ship’s infirmary, put bandages on her and tested her reflexes and brain power. Scratches and scrapes were the worst of her injuries; by some miracle. My next objective was to return her to Lexicon. I couldn’t fly her back. It was inconceivable to think the ship could get off the ground on its own, let alone flying it all the way back. What I could still do was send a distress message to Lexicon with my coordinates.

With the kid in tow, I returned to the computer. Typing the message one handed was a challenge, but I wasn't planning to let a toddler loose on my ship. Finally, I hit send. A notification popped up saying “Error: Message failed to send. No signal.” I opened the computer to find a shattered communication chip. No planet way out here would have a communication chip. And without it, I couldn’t contact Lexicon or any other planet for that matter.

“Great! Just great!” I hissed, “what do I do now?!” Pacing back and forth, I desperately tried to think of a plan B while balancing a squirming baby in my arms. How would I ever get us back home? I had no engine, no ability to call for help, and I didn’t even know where we were. My thoughts were interrupted by the little girl’s stomach growling. She was getting hungry. Frankly so was I. At that moment I came to the sensible conclusion that I should hold off planning our way home. My top priority was getting us both fed.

I just had to prepare for the elements.

Considering all the trees on the planet, I was confident neither of us would need oxygen helmets. The main concern was the temperature. Many planets are rather cold compared to Lexicon. Since Lexicon designs their uniforms to moderate temperature, I was already protected. But the little girl was in a shirt and overalls.

I pulled out my stash of emergency blankets. Hoping to find a smaller one I could wrap her in, I started sifting through them. She was still squirming in my arms and made finding an appropriate blanket difficult. I set her down in the bin of blankets so she couldn’t go anywhere and continued to search through them. She watched me for a moment and then started to look through the blankets too. I heard her let out a small squeal of excitement. Looking over to her, I saw she was snuggling with a small pink one. She looked up at me with the sweetest, twinkling little eyes. My heart melted. No way was I going to take that blanket away from a kid who gave me that cute of a look. I swaddled her in it, and we stepped out of the ship.

It didn’t take me long to realize what planet we were on: Earth. I’ve read about it and even visited it two or three years ago with my brother. It’s a stable planet, home of millions of different forms of life. Including intelligent life that has created thousands of different societies within itself. Biologically, humans and lexiconians are nearly identical. Plus, Earth has a species of monkey like mine that would allow me to blend in. Of all the planets in the universe to crash into, it was lucky we crashed into this one. But Earth does come with a few catches. First, while there is intelligent life, it’s primitive compared to Lexicon. Which meant fixing the ship wasn't an option. The other issue was the warnings of Earth’s treatment of aliens—humans don’t take kindly to strangers, I guess. So, the child and I would have to blend in and never share the minor detail that we were from another planet.

I was stealthy as possible, not because I thought any humans would stroll by. Humans tended to avoid venturing deep into their nature locations. My fear was the wildlife. I recalled an Earth movie that stated forests had “lions and tigers and bears.” I don’t know what lions, tigers, and bears are, but the characters cried “oh my!” afterward, so I assumed they were creatures to be avoided. We didn't run into any of these creatures, but I thought for sure we would, so when I heard footsteps nearby, I panicked.

I looked up and saw two humans standing there, a man and a woman, likely a young couple. They stared at us. The time for hiding had passed. As long as it wasn't a Lexiconian-eating beast. If I played this off right, I could get their help without them learning we were aliens. As fast as mentally possible, I reviewed every Earth dialect I knew.

“Oh look, a baby and a monkey,” the man said. English. Of course, they had to speak the hardest and most inconsistent language on the planet.

“Who wants sandwiches?” The man asked. That caught my attention.

 Twelve sandwiches later, the couple started asking questions. The first one was, “so why are a monkey and a baby alone in the woods anyway?”

“Um, uh…” I stammered.

“Tim, monkeys can’t talk!” the lady laughed.

“Oh, right! Silly me!” the man chuckled, “let’s see, are you two alone?”

I nodded.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

I nodded again.

“Well, problem solved!” The man cheered, “you can stay with us!”

“Oh, yes! We’d be happy to have you!” The lady said, “I’m Sally, by the way!”

“Oh, and I’m Tim! We're the Botsfords! What’s your name?”

I had half a mind to remind him we just established I can’t speak to them. But I knew it wouldn’t do any good because…I can’t speak to them…

“Hmm, do you mind if we call you Bob?” Tim asked me. I shrugged and nodded, Bob seemed like an alright name. Sally looked at the baby.

“And this cute little girl looks like a Becky!” She said, turning to Tim, “don’t you think?”

“No question about it! She’s absolutely a Becky!”

In what humans call a "car," they took us back to their home. Once we arrived, Tim pulled a crib from their attic. He said it was his old one that his father gave to him for when he and Sally had kids. While Tim set up the crib in a spare room, Sally found a hammock amongst their camping supplies. She set it up for me in the same room. By this point, Becky had fallen asleep in my arms. Tim took her and set her in the crib. Exhausted, I hopped into the hammock. After the day I'd had, a nap sounded wonderful. I was sure I'd know what to do when I was well-rested.

 It was dark by the time I woke up, I had slept away the entire afternoon. Peering over to the crib I noticed Becky was still sleeping. The hallway was dark except for a teeny bit of light leaking from downstairs. I snuck to the top of the stairs and stopped when I overheard the Botsfords talking.

“I’m not sure how long it will take to fill out the adoption papers but…”

Adoption papers? Were they planning to adopt Becky?

"And pet adoption papers take less time, but we will also need special licensing since he's a monkey."

And apparently, they wanted to adopt me too—as their pet. That's a little offending but Earth hasn't yet realized the potential of monkeys. And since I couldn't inform them, I decided to let it go.

 The odds of us getting back to Lexicon are next to nothing. So, I guess being part of the Botsford family won’t be so bad. They seem nice enough. Their house and neighborhood are lovely. And in general, lexiconians and humans are so similar that this would be a fantastic set up for Becky. The main difference is that she will develop superpowers one day, but that's something I can help her with. I have limited experience with superpowers, but I can learn. There are plenty of books on the subject in the ship's library. Between the three of us, this sweet little girl will be fine.

I'm sure I'll be fine too, but I don't know how to react. I'm still in shock from today's events. I haven't processed anything yet. I don’t want to think about how I’m never going to see my family or friends again. I'll never see my home planet again. And I might never pilot anything again. My status as a captain means nothing here. Everything I had on Lexicon…is just gone. I mean it’s still there, waiting for me to return. But I’m gone. I can’t return. Even worse is no one I care about will ever know what happened to me. No one will think to look for me on Earth. Even if they did, the planet is so big, would they ever find me? I hope so, but I doubt it. Don't get me wrong, this seems like a great alternative, but nothing can replace Lexicon.

I don't even know why I'm writing this report. Who will ever read it?

#wordgirl #becky botsford #bob botsford #captain huggyface #captain huggy face #tim botsford #sally botsford #i'm so glad to have this posted but i also feel like it could have improved it more #oh well i guess

[pinkletterday]

Writer's Year In Review

This year has been a revelation. I went from deeply, irrevocably believing I can't write fiction at all to knowing that I'm actually pretty good at it!

It's given me the confidence to find work as a freelance writer and editor in real life, after years of unemployment and anxious paralysis resulting from chronic illness and trauma. A lot of other factors also helped but the fic writing played a huge role in getting my shit together.

General Fic Stats:

Word Count on AO3: 92284

Fics posted to AO3: 23

Favourite Fic:

Kiss It Better (Westallen).This fic is my baby. I love little Iris and little Barry in it so much, the hurt and confusion in each other they attempted to heal, how that healing carried into their adult love and family. It will always and always be my favourite thing I have ever written. Wee!stallen is my jam, and the reason I ship them so damn hard.

Do Not Go Gentle (Westallen). Ngl, I love this for the sheer amount of truly gratifying comments. Every single one of them have been emotional and flaily. It all makes me feel like I may have finally levelled up. Hallelujah. xD

Funniest Fic:

The Care and Feeding (Queenwestallen). This is my ultimate OT3. This fic, written as a list and discussion is 95% humour and contains some of my best banter and (I feel) characterization. An element I'm really proud of is how I managed to center and include all their important non-romantic relationships in their conversations. Iris's boisterous female friends, Oliver's friends, Cisco and Caitlin's snarky commentary all shoehorned themselves into the list with hilarious and wholesome results. 

It's not a popular OT3 but I feel like it's a good first attempt to drag this ship to water. xD

Cutest Fic:

Dancing Queen (Olivarry). Even after a year this contiues to be the fic with the highest kudos ratio (except for the more recent one) and the second most bookmarked. I love getting comments on this because they are all some variation of "my teeth hurt. I have diabetes!" xD Well, I did build it around a rainbow sprinkle icing sugar donut, but there is a significant dollop of angst there in the middle. A flangst donut.

Your Vigil In My Keeping (Westallen). This fic has less than 200 hits but has the highest kudos ratio of all. I guess kid fic isn't everyone's cup of tea, but Wee!stallen is cute af yo. I headcanon the origins of Barry and Iris's steadfast partnership in this story, where her faith and belief in him is as strong as his protectiveness of her, all tied up in the language and innocence of children.

Kinkiest Fic:

WA Smut and Kink Collection. I literally just posted this yesterday lol. So far it's just a face-sitting short, but I have quite a few hard and soft kinks lined up. Westallen needs more hard smut tbh, and they have such a unique powerfully loving dynamic that every kink I'm writing has required me to come at it a little bit sideways with a whole lot of emotional focus.

Saddest Fic:

Three fics I can't choose from.

Do Not Go Gentle (Westallen). This is basically Iris's grief and fear in a raging tempest, and it's strongly implied that the future Nora has warned them of will come to pass regardless of what they do. The fact is that there already is and will be a timeline where Iris loses Barry, just as there must be one where she won't, because that is the nature of potentiality. 

The Paradigm of Uncertainty (Westallen). This was a drabble almost, that ruminates on the probability that speedsters do not erase timelines but abandon them, along those versions of their loved ones. It's as @rkwago's brilliant comment says: "Iris hurts in so many weird, cosmic ways that her life is almost an eldritch horror house," which is the most perfect description ever of what it means to be a time traveller's wife.

The Universal Constant (Gen, background WA). A lot of people find the way Barry goes off on Joe cathartic in this fic, and so do I. But it's not so simple. I don't think Joe was wrong to form the views he did, or that anyone was in the wrong really. As @sophiainspace pointed out, it's a mediation of grief and love, their parallels and continuations between parents and children and lovers. The fact that it takes Henry's death for Barry to find the adult language to articulate to Joe why he will always believe in his father's innocence is a tragedy that cuts three ways.

(This fic is also the reason I have a folder in my drive marked "how to get away with murder" and probably a likely reason to get me arrested one day. xD)

Most Popular Fic:

Strangers In The Cold (Coldflash). The Coldflash fandom is a joy to feed. This was my first smut fic which was preceded by an entire chapter of banter about nothing in particular (except it ended up establishing a background that gave birth to the Coldflash vs Olivarry polyam series) And holy wow, for a newbie writer, the response has been amazing. Looking back, I wince at a lot of writing mistakes and its undeniably rough, but it really bolstered my confidence.

(I feel a little guilty that all my other CF stories are still in my WiP folder while I update the polyam series at snail's pace.)

The Shape of Us (Westallen). I wrote this on tumblr half-asleep one night, half as a rambly headcanon...and woke up to literally one hundred freaking notes. What the hell. Now at over 260, it's the most popular fic I've ever posted on tumblr.

I never consciously intended it to be a body-positivity fic but apparently women really relate to the insecurities of growing older and watching our bodies change with marriage, children and the sheer hectic pace of life. Even my non-fandom friends reblogged it simply for its representation of "real women". Barry's response is my own wish fulfillment fantasy; the sort of total acceptance and validation that we wish we could hear it the times we can't find it in ourselves. In light of the virulent body-shaming Candice Patton has been subjected to ever since she was revealed to have gained a fuller figure in S5, I'm very glad to have written it.

Least Popular Fic:

Carry On (Gen) This character study of Oliver Queen only has 135 hits a year after posting, which is par for the course with gen. But has a solid 12% kudos ratio, which means it's probably as good as I think it is. It's one of my favourite and easiest fics I have ever written.

Love Me Like You Do (Olivarry) Lordy, if my first Coldflash smut filled me with confidence, my first Olivarry smutfic all but ruined it. I struggled with it for a long time, unlike SitC, which I suppose shows in the over-descriptions. I got carried away with the quipping and I guess Barry topping at all is really not popular with slash fans?

Still, I'm honestly toying with the idea of deleting and rewriting it. At least it was a learning experience - don't write smut unless it makes you feel horny yourself.  

Most Challenging Fic:

Do Not Go Gentle (Westallen). I think the reason stories you knock off in two hours are instantly popular while the ones you slaved over for weeks barely get any attention is because the process is reflected in the ease of reading. But this one is an exception. It was an absolute monster, taking three weeks and several revisions to wrestle into submission - and it paid off in spades!  Going by the response, I seem to have achieved the wow factor I was going for.

My only regret is that I posted it on tumblr before the last revision that finally made it work, so that too many readers saw the lacklustre version rather than the polished one.

Honorable Mention:

A Stitch In Time (Olivarry for now, eventual Queenwestallen) Baby's first multi-chapter! Admittedly chapters 3 and 4 have been languishing in my drive for a few months now and this thing has 100% more deleted scenes and outtakes posted to my tumblr than the actual story on AO3. But I'm so proud of it! I learned to write action scenes because of it, how to write climaxes, dream sequences, news articles and tell a story in several different formats. It made me rediscover my empathy for Felicity and write her as a PoV character, think deeply on Laurel Lance's losses and give voice to her struggles, and explore how a real friendship and understanding could evolve between Oliver and Iris out of their mutual love for Barry. (Centering female characters within manpain narratives, ftw! Otoh, I centered Iris so much it veered off the Olivarry rails into Queenwestallen territory on its own)

There is so much meaty conflict and delicious looming disaster in this story that I'm determined going to keep at it, even if slow and steady. If only to bring the light of Barry/Iris/Oliver into the world. xD

Holding On (Olivarry). This real-world disability AU deals with chronic and mental illness and the precariousness and personal demons of that reality. I tore out the rawest parts of my life for this fic and put them on display so that I couldn't bear to show it to anyone for a year after it was written.

I'm very glad I did finally brush it off and put it up because it has struck a chord with so many people, especially other Spoonies. The low number of hits on a fic that deals in hurt/comfort rather stings, as I can't help but think the disinterest is because of the "disability" and "neurodivergence" tags. But I still think it's one of the best things I've written and one I'll always be proudest of.

General Reflections:

Things I've learned over the past year of writing:

- Self-deprecation is not my friend. I need to be honest enough with myself to acknowledge when my writing is good, because either I self-validate and build confidence or I become a black hole of insecurity where validation goes to die. And if I think I'm a bit better than I actually am, it's not just okay but necessary to believe it.

- What I call writer's block is perfectionism, anxiety and physical and mental fatigue. If I don't eat, sleep, hydrate and acheive a relaxed mental state, I won't be able to write. 

- Momentum is more my friend than any amount of inspiration and motivation. Sitting my ass down and make it a habit to churn out X number of words a day, even bad writing, will do more to help me than polishing an idea to a high shine. 

- If I don't forgive myself for the stories I can't write I'll never write anything. I am doing this for free, to share the love and joy and therefore obligated to no one. 

- I'm capable of writing things I don't have the first idea how to write. My fingers on a keyboard can paint the picture my brain can't visualize. 

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, but I am going to make it a personal goal to write at least 15k words per month, learn to stick to a posting schedule where possible.  and end next year with an additional 150k words posted. 

To everyone who follows this blog, commented, reblogged and liked my posts - I see and remember and appreciate every one of you. You're the reason I feel seen and valued and why I am motivated to keep writing through all the difficulties life throws at me. <3<3<3

#the flash #myfic #fanfic #westallen #olivarry #arrow #oliver queen x barry allen #personal #barry allen x iris west #coldflash #queenwestallen #leonard snart x barry allen #oliver queen x iris west #writing #meme #review #year in review #happy new year #pinknote

[teamcalamity]

Okay, newbie. Let's move!

A new competitive season has started, Opus VIII is about to launch and Team Calamity has a blog... BOOYA!!

If you want to see more variety than a dialogue with Squall, topics that hit harder than Sephiroth into the back of a flower girl and tips more useful than Vaan's point in the story, then this is the blog for you.

In this first article we thought it might be best to introduce you to some of the team who will be regular staples on here. Hopefully this brief insight will help put some of their upcoming content into perspective.

First up is our resident judge - Mitch.

How did you first get into FFTCG?

It was a dark time in my life; I had just finished one of my favourite TV series for the 15th time and worst of all I had a piece of apple skin stuck between my teeth. There was no light at the end of the tunnel.

I received a call from the UK Champion (but not world) Peter Sherratt, he spoke to me like a true champion with grace and honour “you alright dickhead?” he told me that he had just gone to a new comic book shop, the infamous Calamity Comics. Peter knew I always had a creepy girlfriend affection for Final Fantasy and our recent card game was now just an OTK shit show. So we thought let’s give it a go.

Pulled Bahamut legend, fire seems strong; I bet this card will be good for a long time, 10000 damage AND removed. Peter got Foil Light Cloud. This card is also future proof, if there’s one thing I know about card games, is that removal is key and this has it in spades…

From that day I was hooked, scratching at my arms for the next fix of spoilers, tapping the vein, breathing FFTCG and dealing with my new addiction.

What style of play do you favour?

I like to win, but more importantly I like to be a smug prick and to do this, I love my combat tricks. Nothing lifts the table up on my side more than doing something your opponent cannot see coming. I also love removal and drawing cards so if someone could explain to me how to play earth that would be great. Thank you.

Biggest hype of Opus 8?

While all the cards aren’t out yet, I am especially excited for Lunafreya, the stuff that she can enable; it means your opponent will not want to kill off some of your best forwards. That said this will all change depending on the new Garnet, if there is one.

Peter - the 2018 UK Champion (not world)

How did you first get into FFTCG?

I played yu gi oh at the time and I saw FF being sold at Calamity Comics in Hatfield.

Eric the store owner said they were doing a tournament on Friday night's (an attempt to remove the magic the gathering crowd) .

I had played FF7 and I've never liked mtg so sounded like a win win for me. All that was left was to convince mitchell to go with me to hold my hand through it all.

Didn't take long to convince him and off we went to go purchase some cardboard crack. First pack I opened....foil Cloud L!! Wooo

First deck I played was fire ice. We didn't have a clue what we were doing but got it after a couple of goes.

Mitch went home that night to learn the rulings. It became an obsession of his for a while. He would wake up in the middle of the night about illegal plays the night before.

What was even better was we convinced our mates Joseph and Azlan to join also. Fucking great game. Needs more cleavage though.

What style of play do you favour?

I really like all 3 of the main tropes. They all have a special place in my heart because of the decks ive played with.

Mono wind has generally been a control deck. Midrange ice is tempo. Discard ice is quite aggressive.

I'm gunna vote for tempo. After a short amount of set up I do love using dull freeze or discard mechanics for those cheap easy wins. It's like eating 20 mcnuggets. You know it's bad but it feels so good.

Biggest hype for Opus 8?

Sherlotta, Fina, Alexander, Lasswell & Time Mage.

The one I will talk about is Time Mage though because I honestly think it's perfect for what ice needs right now.

Wind earth is an awful matchup where we can't choose Zidane, get fucked by big daddy etc etc. So we're investing 5cp for a huge tempo swing. Huge. I'm a big big fan. It's a multicard too so extra copies may be played.

Mono ice will return with a vengeance!!!

Rich - Team Calamity's synergy specialist.

How did you first get into FFTCG?

I have zero history of playing card games, so my interest in FFTCG was purely as someone who had played nearly every game released under the title, who just fancied trying it out. I bought the starter decks on release date to gauge if it was something that I was going to stick with, and pretty soon I was part of the Opus I stock disaster, hunting the shelves of every Toys'r'Us in driving distance trying to find packs (I'm not proud to admit that). Two and a half years, and many £'s later, here I am writing my first blog post after years of being a lurker on the fan page.

What style of play do you favour?

I have always run decks that I find genuinely fun to build, play and tweak. Sometimes that means I run stuff closer to the meta, and sometimes I run more obscure decks. The vast majority of decks that I run revolve around combo cards such as Yuri/Chelinka/Alhanalem or Seifer/Raijin/Fujin. Nothing turns me on more than the text "If you control card name "X"".

Biggest hype for Opus 8?

Just give me 3 Lasswell in foil. I love that the card has been made with a specific purpose in mind (Fire/Ice deck), and all 3 abilities feed into what those elements want to achieve. I'm not quite sure how best to make Lasswell work, but I'm sure someone much smarter than I am will find a way to make him a beast!

Tom - Blog editor, specialist subject the 'Tombo Combo'

How did you first get into FFTCG?

I got into the game by chance around Opus 4. I'd never played a TCG before but out browsing for a cheap PS4 game in the January sales I spotted Cloud and Squall booster packs in the bargain bin at a local game shop. A Final Fantasy card game, what even is that?! Went home, googled it, rushed back the next day, bought the lot and ordered all the starter sets. I still remember opening my first packs and getting so excited by how many shinys I was getting, like one in each pack, I must be so lucky! Next step a venture to Calamity as the only local place to play. I didn't win a game for about 2 months but was having the best time!

What style of play do you favour?

I like to do things differently so for me I'm all about the meme life and unashamedly so. I like to shy away from the meta (to my own detriment) as I get much more enjoyment from doing things myself and if someone tells me something is shit, it just makes me want to play it more. That said I still believe you can meme and be successful and hope to go someway to proving that this competitive season (here's to 0-X at every major tournament this year)

Biggest hype for Opus 8?

Not seen the full list yet but I'm buzzing for the new FF7 starter deck. I'll probably look to take the Earth parts into an Earth/Fire setup maybe utilising the new 15 characters if space. For me a big part of enjoying the game is using characters I actually know of and love so this should fit nicely. I've also got some ideas for a Fire/Water rush style deck and a new Opus launch wouldn't be complete without me trying to make FF8 work (where are you Cid Kramer!).

I hope this is the set where things really open up and we don't see the same few decklists dominating the circuit.

Team Calamity's OP runs every Friday from 7pm at Calamity Comics in Hatfield (North of London). You can also follow us on YouTube, Twitter and Facebook (teamcalamityfftcg) or contact us on email ([email protected]). Alternatively just write anything on the FFTCG Fans Facebook page, Team Calamity's James Stevenson will no doubt comment on it.

#final fantasy #Final fantasy tcg #fftcg

[realsamcalloway]

3/27/17 - Interview With Author Elizabeth Cline, “Still ‘Overdressed’ In 2017″ (www.regardingstyle.com)

Originally posted March 27, 2017 and appearing on www.regardingstyle.com.

© 2017 TRSB (Sam Bone)

Still “Overdressed” in 2017: Catching Up with Elizabeth Cline

By Sam Bone

Most standard format written articles (whether in print or digital) begin with the author of the article talking about the interviewed subjects’ past accomplishments and also plugging upcoming projects. A lot of times, there are behind-the-scene motives as to why a person is being interviewed, like say, because there is a product to be pushed or an agenda.

Well, this is not your mother’s format here.

Not when it comes to Elizabeth Cline.

For all of us who are thinking of, or already have begun an ethical fashion journey and also for those who are currently heavy influencers, Elizabeth really needs no introduction. So I won’t give you one. I will rebel against journalistic standards slightly and begin with what Elizabeth has done for me, the previously-found-guilty, and what she can do for you.

Before I go any further, I just need to say that I am thrilled to have Elizabeth Cline for this interview! Thrilled isn’t even a big enough word to describe my feelings about it.

I’ve been hugely impacted by Elizabeth’s speeches and also by her hard-hitting, slap you in the face then pull you in for a hug book, Overdressed. I am impacted and thankful for Elizabeth Cline because, aside from the sickening realities that she speaks of very bluntly in her book, she also has a way of reassuring you that you’re not a terrible person or consumer. Before I dove into the pages of the book, I was somewhat scared because I, like Elizabeth and so many others, fit the profile of that person who shopped at Forever 21 Men’s and H&M. When I think of all of the times in my life I’ve said to someone inquiring about what I’m wearing, “..and it only cost me ten dollars!”… it makes me cringe.

In the Church of Elizabeth Cline, she preaches that it is okay to have been a consumer of fast fashion—What truly matters is understanding the repercussions and changing our buying habits for the better. Amen.

Now, aside from all of that, Elizabeth Cline was the poor person who first received my panic. I had spent a few weeks watching YouTube videos; anything and everything that came up as a result of my search of “fast fashion.” I obsessively read and tried to grasp all of the statistics I was hearing and reading about. I, at one point, realized that some of the stuff I had read was maybe a little too outdated (2014 is like 10 years ago!), so I quickly filtered my results. I was in a total tail spin and whirlwind of information. My whole life, I’ve also dove straight into the depths of the unknown, in an attempt to take in as much information as quickly as I can.

I was freaking out. I had a Winona Ryder in “Stranger Things” panic attack. Then suddenly… I hit a wall. I needed to know more, needed someone who would maybe understand me, and the first person I thought of was Elizabeth Cline. To my shock and awe, she replied and we began a dialog.

I know that was a tad long-winded, but in your reading that, Elizabeth, I want you to know that no matter how far I go in my journey, even if nowhere at all, I will forever remember your kindness, accessibility and generosity. Indebted indefinitely.

 What’s up and how are you doing today? Where in the world are you (Los Angeles, Brooklyn, etc.)?

I live in Brooklyn! We had a snowstorm today and everything was mostly shut down. So I did what any normal person would do and bought a bottle of whiskey and turned on Netflix. 

I was listening to a September 2016 radio interview you did with Heritage Radio Network yesterday and learned about your new journey in film making. I am so excited for the documentary! How did this happen for you?

When Overdressed came out, I knew that the story of fast fashion would be best told visually. Even as a print journalist, I could see that it would have so much more impact if it was presented as a movie. After several years, I eventually came back around to the idea of making a documentary and started looking into how I, as someone who's never really worked in documentary film, could pull this off. Right now I'm filming two separate projects, one on fast fashion and one on textile waste. I've got my own gear, shoot with a couple of different camera people and producers, and have an editor I work with. It's a lot of fun. 

The interview I heard is now a few months old… have you come up with a title yet and how is that process going?

Since the podcast, I have been mostly working on a follow-up to Overdressed, which is an ethical style and shopping guide. I do have some ideas for a title but nothing is set in stone. 

As a slight curvature, I discovered that you were in a heavy metal band called Mortals out of Brooklyn! I could tell you were a bit punk rock when I first saw you speak at the April 2016 Chicago Humanities Festival and it was certainly an allure for me, as my background is also musical (music promotions and I’ve been the vocalist of a few bands myself). My question is how did you manage to pull of separating the two “jobs?” I was shocked when I found this out and thought “how did I NOT know this?” I am sure it would surprise quite a few people as well.

That's awesome! I've been in the punk and metal scene since I was 14, and it's a huge part of who I am. I got into activism and social justice through the punk scene. For a while, I kept those two parts of my life very separate -- playing music and working in the sphere of Overdressed and journalism.  You'd think that it would be impossible to hide anything about yourself given the Internet, but somehow most people don't find out if you don't want them to. Ha.

Sadly, I quit my band last year so I could focus on my documentary and writing more books. Sigh. It certainly wasn't an easy decision but it was the right one for my life.

Since 2012’s release of Overdressed, what have you been up to in regards to your delivering a message about sustainable and ethical fashion?

The book was a little ahead of it's time, so I haven't been doing ethical fashion related stuff full-throttle since 2012. I mostly promote the book through public speaking -- it's the best way to bring what's on the pages to life and get people thinking. I have given dozens upon dozens of lectures and talks at universities, high schools and community groups over the years, and I am slated to do at least six talks this spring. There's real momentum behind the ethical fashion movement now, so I feel like this year and last were probably my most active since the book's release. I try to stay engaged on social media with the ethical fashion community as well. In addition to the documentary and the follow-up book, I am also running a secondhand designer clothing business via eBay and a textile and fashion reuse lab in Brooklyn. I have a lot of irons in the fire. Too many, on most days.

In your eyes, how has the fashion industry changed since 2012?

I think perceptions of the fashion industry have changed a lot. There's now a broad popular understanding of fast fashion, and why it's problematic. There's a general sense that the global fashion industry is bad for the environment and often for human rights as well. I was filming recently with some activists in front of a Forever 21 in Los Angeles, and a college student immediately walked up to us and said, "Yeah, fast fashion is bad. I work at Forever 21 because I need a job, but I know it's not a good company." That would have never happened in 2012! Of course, there are also thousands of ethical fashion companies around the world now, many of them small but growing. Everlane and Reformation have made the concepts of transparency and sustainability cool or accessible for Millennials.

Within the fashion industry, I'm most excited about how digital technology is changing and will continue to change the way we consume. You follow me on Twitter, so you know how much of an advocate I am of resale and rental sites / apps. I think the future of fashion is shared, in the sense of circulating items from user to user until their useful life is over. We will have to continue to shift consumer behavior to fully realize the sharing economy's potential within fashion -- Americans tend to think of wearing someone else's clothes as dirty or something poor people do. That's really got to change, and I think it's finally beginning to do so.  

Speaking of change, with the new Trump administration here in the United States; what are your thoughts on his trade executive orders and the overall reception (or lack thereof) of his ideas and rhetoric from the fashion industry?

As someone who's written extensively on global economics and studied and researched trade in the U.S., China and Mexico, I can say with confidence that Trump's view on global economics and trade is dangerously inaccurate. He sees globalization as a zero sum game where the U.S. lost and China and Mexico won. The U.S. is of course still the world's largest economy. Growing inequality and a lagging middle class is a phenomenon that's playing out around the world, not just here, and it has as much to do with technology and automation as it does with the way trade deals are structured. I don't think it's a bad idea to renovate NAFTA, but only if the goal is to build environmental and worker protections into the agreement (the original does not include anything like that) but that's not Trumps's intention. So my guess is he'll change it in a way that's devastating to the U.S. economy and makes us less competitive and less innovative. Trump just wants us to go back to the 1950s or 1980s when manufacturing employment was a significant portion of the population, but the world he's trying to recreate no longer exists.

…and to push boundaries a bit (because I am unafraid), what are your thoughts on his conflicting opinions about resourcing USA companies back to the homeland, while he keeps both his product lines and his daughter Ivanka’s overseas? I, personally, find this baffling and astoundingly hypocritical.

I feel like we've all taken the Made in USA worship thing a bit too far, myself included. Now we have an autocrat running the country because he promised to bring factories back to America. We need to take a long, hard look at what we hope to gain from on-shoring certain industries and evaluate how and if it's even possible and how and if it's going to meet our wider goals of higher employment and a stronger middle class. I think in a lot of instances, on-shoring is not the answer we're looking for, especially if it means making the U.S. uncompetitive by adding trade protectionism to our industries. 

Instead, I think the U.S. should continue to focus on building advanced manufacturing here, which is something Obama put a lot of money into. That's partially why the portion of U.S. GDP going to manufacturing is as high as it was in the 1960s and 1970s. Advanced manufacturing relies on technology, automation and advanced skills. And then we should continue to grow our boutique, artisan, small-batch manufacturers who represent quality and craftsmanship. I really don't want to see stores like Kohl's and Target make all their clothes here again. And if we start clamoring to see something like that here, we need to really ask ourselves what the motivation is.  

People like you and I work tirelessly to spread a message about the repercussions of fast fashion and the waste it causes and also by encouraging consumers to shop more ethically; how will this work when there are companies and world leaders who simply refuse to withdraw because the payoff is so huge? To these people, what would you say?

I don't want to see an end to outsourcing. Trade and globalization are a good thing. But with this global world we live in, we simply have to figure out how to regulate environmental standards and enforce living wages in garment factories that are currently generating huge, unprecedented profits. I also think it's fine to partially subsidize high-end, high-skilled garment factories in the U.S. that still have specialized tailoring skills for example -- we want those skills to survive. It's also important for the Garment Industry in NYC to survive as it's an important tool for design and innovation in the U.S.

When people take the problems with fast fashion into consideration and decide that they want to change their buying habits, a lot of people’s minds go straight into “I can’t afford that” mode. I’ve even heard arguments that go as far as saying that it’ll never work (ethical fashion as a first thought for consumers) because consumers are so engraved with prices offered by retailers like Target and Forever 21. What are your thoughts on this consumer mindset?

I think it's a challenge. American consumers in particular are trained to buy a lot of clothing over the course of a year, which makes them very sensitive to price. How could you spend $200 on a single ethical item if you're then going to turn around buy 68 items per year (the American average)? Who can afford that!

I think there are probably two different potential markets for ethical fashion. Women who are a little further into adulthood; they're making their own money and they're looking to build a wardrobe and buy higher-quality pieces. For them, ethical fashion is not as hard of a sell. For that person, it's about spreading awareness that buying higher-quality pieces that you truly love is really satisfying and such an incredible source of joy and happiness. That's part of the reason I'm writing the ethical style guide, as people aren't really given the skills anymore to shop well. It's a process and a journey going from thinking like a fast fashion consumer to thinking like someone who wants to build the wardrobe of their dreams. Those are two different mindsets and demand two different approaches to spending. 

For teenagers and college students, someone is going to have to come along and basically create a Whole Foods of ethical fashion, something that has enough buying power and economies of scale to keep prices down. Young people are either spending their parents' money or they don't have a lot of disposable income. And they are under a lot of social pressure to keep up with trends and shop a lot. So, yeah, whoever can figure that out will be hugely successful I think!

Thank you so much for your time! What can we all expect next from you?

Ethical style and shopping guide coming soon!

 To stay up-to-date with Elizabeth, you can follow here on Twitter here, bookmark her official website here and while you’re at it, purchase Overdressed: The Shockingly High Cost Of Cheap Fashion here!

Certain elements, such as links and photos, may have been removed from the original version of the above article.

#elizabeth cline #overdressed: the shockingly high cost of cheap fashion #interviews #author sample #writing sample #sam bone #trsb #regarding style #fashion #fast fashion #bookclub

[pressography-blog1]

Why I left Mac for Windows: Apple has given up

New Post has been published on https://pressography.org/why-i-left-mac-for-windows-apple-has-given-up/

Why I left Mac for Windows: Apple has given up

This post firstly regarded on Charged. Read the unique submit here.

In case you ask every person who knows me, I’m in all likelihood the largest Apple fan they realize. Ask for an offer of what computer to get, and I’ll almost surely either let you know the MacBook Seasoned or to wait because Apple is set to replace its hardware finally Try Updates.

However lately, I found out I’d gotten tired of Apple’s attitude closer to the computer. The development in MacOS land has basically been lifeless given that Yosemite, years in the past, and Apple’s updates to the platform had been especially small. I’m a developer, and it seems to me Apple doesn’t pay any attention to its software or care approximately the masses of heaps of developers that have embraced the Mac as their go-to platform.

Test Sierra: the only characteristic of notice is Siri, which is half of-baked as it is, and the things that did get ported over from iOS are half of-carried out too. On the developer aspect? Not anything, unless you operate XCode — the equal story it’s been for years.

The handiest cause it’s still even possible as a platform for net developers at all is because of the first rate work the open-source community does On the Mac toolchain (Test how easy it is to apply Node, pm, Yarn or any of the other exceedingly new gear available).

Bloomberg mentioned in late 2016 that Apple had dismantled the Mac team, rolling it into the iOS team, and it suggests. The brand new MacBook Execs, released in late 2016, where interesting, However something of a half-hearted shrug within the path of customers: they’re okay machines, However, they positive aren’t interesting in any respect. Their hardware is underpowered, specializing in thinness and a gimmicky contact bar in place of electricity or capability, the preceding tentpoles of the Mac.

“In every other signal that the agency has prioritized the iPhone, Apple re-organized its software engineering department so there’s now not a dedicated Mac running device team,” Bloomberg said.

To inform the truth, I’m a lifestyles-lengthy Windows consumer that grew to be disillusioned by means of Microsoft after Windows Vista. It turned into obvious the agency had no method or vision, and whilst Home windows 7 smoothed matters over a little, Apple’s side had something I wanted: the entirety labored together nicely.

You could ship iMessages from your computer or smartphone, solution calls anywhere you had been, and throw files to other devices readily — and so I have tempted away in early 2013 whilst Apple released its 2d-era 15″ Retina MacBook Seasoned.

That machine became my first real taste of Apple’s world, and that I cherished it. the whole thing turned into designed nicely and worked nicely together. Apple’s deep roots in Unix supposed I really finally picked up web improvement for the primary time, learned the way to use the terminal deeply, or even gave again to some open-supply tasks.

But, approximately the time I joined Apple’s global, the employer’s interest pivoted. The Mac become no longer critical, as the iPhone, iPad after which the iPad Seasoned have become the point of interest of the agency. The message changed into simple: why do you even need a PC when a pill and phone can do all of it besides?

As an end result, Apple’s focus At the Mac waned: the hardware didn’t get hold of an replace for over 4 years, after which OS X, once often up to date with thrilling functions, now handiest receives the scraps from iOS. If you need to look this in action, take a look at out iMessage on Mac: the flagship characteristic of iOS, iMessage stickers, barely works on Mac.

You began seeing this in almost the entirety: Airdrop, Apple’s lots-touted feature that lets you without difficulty beam files among computer and speaks to was my first flavor of the organisation’s “simply works” mentality — about 30% of the time it worked every time, and the relaxation of the time you couldn’t connect at all. Then there was a handoff, the heralded characteristic that permits you to work on one tool, then seamlessly flow to every other. I don’t recognize if I ever got it to work with any sense of reliability.

Macs for Windows customers In case you’re a Home windows consumer, do not flip the web page.

This isn’t going to be one of those stressful “Gee, isn’t the Mac amazing?” or “Why I chose the Mac over Home windows” articles that Apple lovers have inflicted On the relaxation of the sector for years. I’ve had my fill of those – and they do not get any better, despite the fact that I am a Mac person now.

I am scripting this column for the likes of my colleagues Rome, a protracted-time Home windows consumer who lately bought an iBook, or Connie, who dreams of getting one free from her editor.

Windows customers are exceptional from beginners. Fashioned by means of years of experience, they approach a computer anticipating to do matters in a certain manner. Dissonance sets in once they discover that the not unusual obligations they used to carry out on Home windows are no longer to be had – or, as more likely the case, available through a distinctive set of commands. right here then, is some realistic advice from someone who is been in the trenches.

Delete. The “delete” key on a Mac would not work like its Home windows counterpart. Rather than deleting the man or woman to the right of the cursor and ultimate up to the distance, the Mac delete works like the backspace key. To get Windows-style delete, maintain down the “fn” key earlier than hitting the delete key.

Of Mice and Macs. Apple best recently discovered the gain of a proper mouse button. don’t be concerned. Any vintage USB optical mouse will paintings. I for my part decide upon a great wheel to the little button on Apple’s Effective Mouse. just as in Home windows, you could right-click on on an icon to prompt a context-sensitive menu. On a pocket book touchpad, keep down the “ctrl” key and click on an icon to get the identical effect.

Windows Media Player. Neglect Home windows Media Participant for the Mac. The critiques have been as an alternative horrific. In reality, Forget QuickTime, which might not play AVI or WMV documents, and may not pass full display screen until you upgrade to a paid model. Download VLC Media Participant (http://www.Videolan.Org/), a loose multi-platform software that will do all the above and play DVDs, MP3 and MP4 files besides. For a few reason, VCD playback is uneven, so for that, you can use MPlayer (also unfastened) or QuickTime.

Itunes, ShmyTunes. Many humans swear with the aid of iTunes, However If you do not have an iPod, you’re possibly higher off using VLC Media Participant to play your music. It is less intrusive – it won’t provide to scan your difficult disk for songs, attempt to sell you track, come up with pointless data approximately licensing or consume up more disk space by means of duplicating your songs in its personal directory. It will just play your candy tunes. On an iBook, VLC may also play track louder.

Report institutions. So how do you inform a Mac to constantly use VLC to play your AVI or MP3 files? easy. proper click on any MP3 Document and select “Get Information” from the context menu. in the “Open with” phase, choose VLC Participant. Then click on the Alternate All button to use the identical Report association everywhere else.

Locating stuff. Locating documents At the Mac can be a task If you’re used to Home windows Explorer. Macs have Finder, which has subtle variations. The sidebar on Finder isn’t always the same as the folders view on Explorer, which offers you a hierarchical view of your directory. The top 1/2 of Finder indicates you what drives – which includes the ones on a network – that you may get right of entry to. The bottom half of-of the sidebar incorporates shortcuts to folders and documents you operate regularly. at the same time as you’re still familiarizing yourself with Finder, attempt the use of Spotlight, a powerful seek software that let you find what you need speedy. just click on At the blue and white icon At the top right portion of the display and kind. Focus will quick wager what you want.

Approaches to pores and skin a Mac. With the possible exception of video games, most Home windows XP packages have Mac counterparts. For instance, there may be no Mac version of my favourite BitTorrent purchaser, uTorrent, However a program referred to as Transmission does the equal process thoroughly. There are versions of MS Office for the Mac, of direction, But there is additionally a freeware equal known as NeoOffice. The FTP software I exploit on XP, WS FTP, is not to be had On the Mac, But I have got Cyberduck operating simply best. Immediately messaging? Neglect Yahoo or MSN Messenger and get Adium.