navybluedaisy

[navybluedaisy]

Winwin — edit by me.

[navybluedaisy]

concert pics ! 🫶🏼✨

[navybluedaisy]

kenji and castle 🥺🥺

[navybluedaisy]

reminder of the day: AARON SPEAKS ARABIC

[navybluedaisy]

the time i’ve been waiting for ever since 2022…..

i’m going to see STRAY KIDS in washington dc!!!!!!!! AHHHH i’m so exciteddddd ❤️🖤❤️‍🔥

[navybluedaisy]

Debana — Judo fiction writing —

an ; this is the final story i submitted, so i edited some things and moved them around. 🧡

To be honest, I never really thought of myself as a great fighter. It’s a February evening in the cafe where all the fighters go to recuperate, especially after fights.

“Two days before the comp, eh? Thursdays are usually cursed tee bee aych,” Aeri chortles out. “You’re lucky you still have a few days to prepare, princess.” Aeri is my friend I made during training. She’s a belt behind me, orange/green, but we are usually stuck with each other because we are the same size. I shift my position, raising my eyebrow that hasn’t been plucked.

“You know we aren’t texting…this is in real life…why did you say “tee bee aych,” I say as I make an exaggerated look. “…And I’m not your princess.”

“Girl, you know I’m too lazy to speak sometimes, don’t judge.” She says with her raspberry lips. “You will always be my princess."

Ever since I started judo three years ago, my dream has been to get gold at a competition. Kids at my old school would make fun of me for not being competitive enough to fight–That I would be too empathetic to aid my desire to win. Since then, I have kept envisioning myself in the blaring fluorescents, on a brightly colored mat, walking the tightrope of uncertainty. I envision all my teammates yelling at me to keep going, to be stronger. My senses flood like opening gates when I think about the smile he would paint on his face. A smile that could cause an earthquake in my organs. It would be so large I’d get lost in it. The big competition day is creeping up on my team. We are all sweaty with messed up gis on a late summer evening.

“Fix your posture!” My coach explained to me. I wince at the armbar. Shuffling around, breaking grips just for them to be reattached, I can hear my heartbeat. My lungs let seas flow into them, and all I can hear is my coach yelling at me to keep going. To hold on even if it hurts like being dumped into a river rapid. keep the grip break the grip swoop under turn swivel pick up…

Bang.

A few months ago, me and my best friend Aeri just started our Junior year of highschool. Aeri got to skip a grade since her family moved here from Japan, and we met from practice. Today, my mind looks like a painting that was painted over so many times to the point of it being so thick you can’t even tell what’s on it anymore. A sludge of failed ambition.

It is overcast, forty years must have passed. Something about boba, a dojo, a competition, smudged eyeliner, messed up nail polish, matcha, blah, blah, blah-

“Winter? Winter? Earth to Winter?”

I shift my position. “Must have been daydreaming or something…”

Aeri smiles, looks me up and down, then raises her eyebrow. “Ha, you’re good. I've probably done the same thing,” She continues. “As I was saying, are you down to go practice at the dojo that just recently opened at the gym?” She says. “I got excited….and kind of forgot you have your…things.”

“My things?” I scoff, picking at my nails. “Sure, find me there at 8?”

I have always expressed my love for the season of winter. The vibes, the long nights, no obligations to go sweat buckets outside. Just pure bliss. Aeri is probably the only person who knows and understands why I act the way I do. Without her, I probably would never smile.

I shove my key into the ignition lock and plop my hands on the steering wheel, fulfilling my promise I made to Aeri.

“Winter?” I hear a voice say.

I flash my eyes towards the noise. “Mhm?” I try to be quiet to not disturb the other people practicing.

“You dropped this.”

As I look at my belt in someone else’s hand, I panic. This isn’t Aeri. I rarely talk to other people, but especially not to the opposite gender. I look down, sweating, my breaths shortening.

“Thanks,” I say with a shaky, unsteady voice. Then it dawns on me. Nobody knows my nickname except Aeri…

I take a deep breath that hitches at the end. This unidentified fellow judoka is probably expecting me to keep on walking. He makes a step to my left when I raise my voice and widen my dark brown eyes. “How do you know my name…my nickname?”

The unidentified man falters. He looks up to meet my gaze. He sharply inhales; it sounds almost like he cut through his lungs with a kitchen knife. It's almost like the Mediterranean sea full of words bubbles up in his throat. Scratching the back of his head, full of dark brown hair, he stalls even more.

He drops his belt now, and my jaw tightens, eyes focused on a faraway window.

“I don’t think you should know,” he finally admits, shifting his weight from each of his feet. “At least…not right now.”

“But why?” I ask him, a growing pain in my knees.

“You just…don’t.”

“Why don’t you just answer the question? I have this right, you know?”

“Okay, then,” he says. “Are you fighting in the competition this Saturday?”

I gulp. “Yeah…”

He grins. Just a little. “Meet me 2 hours before the competition on Saturday, February 26th, and I’ll tell you.”

I hesitate. Physically. I stare at his shirt for a while, trying to weigh the possible danger I’m putting myself in. I’ll make sure to have Aeri by my side.

“Deal. Sure, whatever.”

Unidentified man turned his small grin into a big one. No clue why. I try to hide my troubled expression.

“See you then,” he says, and bolts off, forgetting his belt on the ground.

“Hey, you forgot your belt!” I say in a voice louder than I expected.

He turns around and runs back, picks the belt up that was at my feet, says a quick, nearly indecipherable ‘thank you’, and runs off into the locker rooms.

My gloomy, dark palette washes over me like overflowing watercolors.

I seemed to forget that Aeri is nowhere to be seen. She would have been next to me, protecting me.

How strange…

Since I was young, fights have been daunting to me. The pressure and anxiety that bred from the expectation to win were why I opted out of competitions.–They’re like this rope I can’t reach…this parallel I can’t intersect. I’ve gone up three and a half belt ranks over these years. Congratulations she said, but I wasn’t feeling congratulations worthy, I guess. I was awarded a green/blue belt, which feels like a belt that only super advanced students can rank to, but me? The competition date was just a few hours away, and all that has been rampaging my mind is where Aeri disappeared. I never completed my practice on that day. I step forward and backward, frantically shifting my position on the damp street. I pour my lungs’ contents into the air, eyes crimson.

“Aeri, where did you go?” I yell, over and over. I hope nobody is out on these avenues. The knot in my chest is tightening more as if there was a master bracelet maker in my heart. Woven threads tangle themselves into my garden, poisoning my crops.

“The competition is more important!”

“The competition is more important!” he shouts.

“Who are you? What is your name?” I frantically whirl around like a distressed gust of leaves.

He exhales. “My name?”

I raise my eyebrow at the way he made his conjunction sound like a question. “Yes.”

“My name is Akil.” He looks at me as if I have neon green skin. “I’m Reis’ brother. Now, the competition preparations are in 30 minutes, so you should probably start thinking about coming inside.”

I enter a tunnel and come through the other end before answering him. “Oh, okay, smarty pants.” My eyes droop low, my mouth forming a line.

He raises his eyebrow and places his hand on his hip. “By the way, my names Akil, not ‘smarty pants.’”

I walk into the competition hall, belt wrapped around my neck, and my skin goes pale. You could fit a small town into this space. I hesitantly check myself into the preparation room, and am met by 30 other competitors, give or take. I throw my bag into the unidentified pile of black, and slowly walk towards my teammates with a bead of sweat dripping down my forehead..

‘Where’s Aeri?” I ask one of my teammates, Nezira.

“Oh, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks…I assumed she was calling out sick.” She says with a flat expression. “You should be conditioning with us though, they’re gonna start calling us out to get paired up.”

I forge up a reply, exhaling and inhaling sporadically. “Alright.”

Belt tied, socks off. Seconds feel like years. It’s almost my turn, and I’m tracing the shapes of my hands. I was so distracted with finding Aeri that I barely used enough time for conditioning, and it will show once I step onto that squishy, slightly torn mat. I’m drowned, drowned in my sweat and the weight forced on my organs.

One more minute…

My name appears on the big screen next to my partner. It reads AERI vs REIS

My mind becomes paralyzed, and time stops.

That’s him. He’s a boy.

I look over to Nezira with wide eyes. “I thought they only paired girls with girls? Was I mistaken?”

Nezira scoffs, the noises around us blaring. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” My heartbeat is slamming against my chest.

“They changed the policy. That rule became void last week…If you actually came to practice, you’d be up to date.” She says while picking at her nails, a smirk creeping at the tips of her mouth. “Now, go! You only have 30 seconds!”

I get to my wobbly feet and rush down the steps wildly, nearly tripping over myself multiple times. This is actually happening, and I only have one chance to win.

I see him. Reis. The crowd cheers so loud my ear drums crowd with adrenaline. All I can hear are my short, unstable breaths. He steps closer, and holds out his hand. I shake it, my stomach is upside down, the walls have flipped, and the lights turn into shadows. My feet turn into paint brushes, stroking a canvas below. My feet dance, then become brooms. Dust clouds us, blaketing my compass. As generations pass, the fight comes to a quick end as if it was a fleeting moment. My face flushes red, tears flowing down my cheeks.

My senses black out completely, and the last thing I remember is the sensation of his almost black eyes ripping their way into mine, pulling me into this spiral of blooming flowers and my heart pings with an indescribable feeling.

The next thing I know, people are screaming, cheering, clapping, or a mixture of all. My experiences blend together, and I’m a bird on a branch. The strongest bird. The bravest.

I’m eaten by a squirrel.

I Made it.

[navybluedaisy]

1. A slide from scene to summary and back again in the first paragraphs:

Even their family’s dog,

Leon, hunkers under one of the tables up there, a maroon-and-silver

bandana tied around his shaggy neck. “I’d use blanks. Just to scare the

shit out of everybody.” ( part of the opening scene )

We’re sitting barefoot at our own picnic table, (slide) downhill from

everyone else and in the wide open sunshine of an early September

Saturday. We live in the same town, go to the same school, in the same

grade, and our mothers invent different traditions for nearly every

month of the year instead of, say, just having Sunday dinners together. (part of the summary) 

This story started off with a scene with their author’s cousin speaking at the family back to school picnic. Then, it slides into a summary, where the author is remarking how everyone is like family at this picnic, and gives a date (Saturday, September) (counts as a slide). This summary gives the reader a chance to connect all the characters, and in this case, this summary describes everyone at the picnic is close, and that this is the celebration for their freshmen year of high school.

2. Alfie’s external and internal motivations for yearning:

External: He wants to appear strong and stereotypically “manly”, to not be bullied by the tougher boys and to not be considered identical to his female relatives. 

Internal: He is insecure about his dainty, “girl like” qualities that gives him this internal motivation to counter them, even through they are a natural part of who he is

3. Obstacles that I noticed that slowed down or prevented Alfie’s desires:

“Those marble head boys kept mocking him for his resemblance of a “female”, giving him an obstacle for his desire to “shoot up the school.”

The physically stronger men in the locker room cornering him, calling him “this leetle girl” and “Herm-Alfred-ite’.”

4.  The obstacle of bullying intensifies, and when Olive attempted to intervene with the bullies, Alfie only returned the favor with displeasure and anger.

Alfie feels more of the societal pressures that he does not apply to, which intensifies the obstacle of his desire.

In the scene where Alfie and his cousins are putting on makeup and Aunt Lena walks in shows that the behavioral pressures he had stemmed from his childhood, and only increased as time went on.

5. Towards the end of the story, Olive repeatedly had inner dialogue that said along the lines of: “everything is going to be okay” “Alfie was scared of a wasp, there’s no way he would even hold a gun” “Please please please, don’t shoot Alfie” She wanted to preserve her cousin’s life, even in this uncertainty. She wanted to hug him so the police officers couldn’t shoot him, that’s how much she cared for him. Even if they mistook her menstruation for a wound. She yearns for recognition and security within herself—she was labeled “weird” when people found out she likes to draw comics and that she is particularly short. She wants to feel important and seen within her circle. 

She texts Alfie “You okay” in the last part of the story because she yearns for his safety.

6. Consequences for Alfie: If he decided to give up on his regime of shooting the school up, then he wouldn’t be feared, he wouldn’t be looked at as the tough guy. He would remain as the soft, delicate and dainty boy he naturally is. The perception people will have on his will stay the same, and the bullying will continue.

Consequences for Olive: If her attempts to get Alfie in the right mind never worked, she would feel guilt and regret that she couldn’t help him out of his rut. She would feel the need to detach from society if she keeps viewing herself as weird—the constant label of “weird” would get to her head, resulting in her isolation from life.

7. The entire shooting was a drill, which lifted the concerns of Olive, but the story was left with reading wondering what Alfie really was up to.

The resolution to the yearning is that Olive learns she cannot help Alfie in all the ways she wants to, and that some trauma about him and his past have to be resolved deep within himself. Alfie learns that he cannot help never fit into a box that was never meant for him—he needs to accept himself how he already is without feeling the need to prove himself to others.

8.  Alfie is bullied for his appearance, which in turn gives him the desire to shoot up the whole school. Olive tries to defend Alfie from school bullies, but in turn, Alfie reacts with anger towards her.

9. “But I see his dropped sandwich instead, Busted open shreds of wet meat.”

This line made me think of the contrast between Alfie dodging the small wasp and the first thought that came to my mind when presented with this sentence. Manly, maybe a barbecue. Not very flattering to imagine. 

”His lips are as soft pink as my nail beds” This could be a super specific with sparky word choices.

“Squeamish fluorescent school light glow” This gives the reader a specific setting to imagine, while describing the lights as “squeamish” is a sparky word choice.

10. I definitely felt a lot of tension in this story, especially when the bullies were backing Alfie up into the lockers, since I didn’t know what was going to happen to him, and when everybody thought that there was a real school shooting going on after Alfie said he would shoot up the whole school. There was tension in the moment that Olive thought Alfie might have been taken away because the officers could’ve mistook her as a victim. The tension was released when the alarms turned out to be drills, and Olive immediately texted Alfie asking if he was okay, ending with him saying “Never. You?”

[navybluedaisy]

REVISION:

Scene into summary:

A few months ago, Gerry confessed to Renata that he was terminally ill, and only had one year left. Well, that’s what the doctors told him, but who knows when his body will give up. The daunting task of confessing this information to his relative, Renata, was heartbreaking to him. He was not ready for the emotion turmoil and sleepless nights that were ahead of him. Every month they would come down to the cafe, as if it was a ritual. Sometimes they wouldn’t talk, just stare from a distance from each other. There didn’t have to be any interactions. That’s what’s beautiful about this cafe. It was as if there was always something magical in the air, that slowed town time and froze people in this atmosphere. Renata flew over from Italy, after discovering she was Gerry’s cousin, which meant she needed the time to adjust to this new information. She’d been adjusting to the language that was not spoken in her home country, which was a difficult adjustment. The cafe that she had been going to quite frequently became this comfort place, a place where she and Gerry could escape their realities. The realities that there wasn’t much time left; And not just for Gerry.

Summary into scene:

On the last day of summer, just before the pool closed, July heat pressed down on the neighborhood pool. Chlorine mingled with sunscreen and the sticky-sweet aroma of melted popsicles. Kids lined up to jump off the diving board, soaking the never-dry concrete.

“You aren’t going to believe this, Tansy,” one of the mothers said, sitting up straighter. “I found the cutest swimwear at the new department store.”

Tansy beamed. “No way, you have to show me.” She tilted her head, letting her sunglasses slide to the tip of her nose. Sifting through bright swimsuits was like a treasure hunt for her.

Across the concrete, Mags tugged at her bunched-up navy blue skort. “Nothing like sweating all over my new fit until the fireworks distract us,” she said, fanning herself with a greasy paper plate. The holiday couldn’t come soon enough—anything to escape the heat.

Tansy didn’t acknowledge Mags, flipping through a glossy magazine. Her eyes never seemed to meet her twin’s.

A mother hesitated, then asked, “Are you and Mags actually twins? How come you guys never talk?”

A single second stretched unbearably long.

Tansy forced a smile and held up her hand. “Oh my goodness, my nails are atrocious!” She stretched her fingers dramatically, avoiding the question.

The mother frowned, sensing something off.

Mags shut her magazine. Tansy stood, eyes fixed beyond the foreground.

The twins weren’t just distant. They moved like parallel lines—side by side, but never touching.

[navybluedaisy]

im literally writing this assignment out on tumblr because canvas discussion posts dont scratch my creativity enough

initial draft:

The first day as a camp staff member—there are firsts for everything in this experience. I hear the laughter of some and the cries of others, this was the first time I was acclimating to each of the kids’ unique personalities.

This day was the first time to sort through all the new unfamiliar names and faces, the first time immersing myself into the fresh atmosphere—my patience was tested in the blaring, unbearable heat as it was the middle of July, but my passion for helping the community was stronger than any discomfort. As more kids ran around, played dodgeball on the mat and relied on all the camp staff, I couldn’t help but wonder about all the little universes in these kids' minds.

Through all the Hawaiian grocery store bread and apples with water droplets, to the first aid kits and disorganized marker bin, I wouldn’t replace my summer with anything else.

Summary of the important feedback I received:

Instead of saying, “I hear the laughter of some and the cries of others,” maybe describe a specific moment.

“My patience was tested” – Show it instead of telling, like a moment where you felt overwhelmed but pushed through.

“All the little universes in these kids’ minds” –- Maybe you can add a small example of something a kid said or did that stuck with you.

This day was the first time to sort through all the new unfamiliar names and faces..."

Suggestion: Instead of stating it, show the challenge—perhaps describing a moment of struggling to remember a child’s name or an interaction that highlights this learning process.

"My patience was tested in the blaring, unbearable heat as it was the middle of July..."

Suggestion: Make the heat more tangible—what does it feel like? Is sweat dripping down your back? Is the air thick and heavy?

"Fresh atmosphere"

Suggestion: This phrase is a little vague. What makes it feel fresh? The newness of the experience? The sounds? The smells? A more sensory description could help.

"I couldn’t help but wonder about all the little universes in these kids' minds."

Suggestion: This is a beautiful thought—could you hint at what you imagined? What did their expressions or conversations suggest about their worlds?

Revised edition:

remember: add more dialogue (summary into scene) and more sensory details in each summary and scene. pink means those areas are to be edited

The first day as a camp staff member—there are firsts for everything in this experience. Some kids were fluttering around like butterflies in a garden, their laughter piercing through the air. Other kids sounded like the hum of a bee.

“My mother said I can’t get my picture taken,” the eight year old frowned, color draining from her face. “I really, really wanted to, you know? All my friend’s mothers let them have their pictures taken.”

I bent down, aligning myself with the miniature human, and exhaled. “You know, your parents are just trying to protect you.”

Her eyes were wispy, as if each eyelash was made of individual feathers. She didn’t seem to understand my reason.

“I don’t know.. I just want to be like my friends.” She started to shake, arms held close to her chest as she started to get teary.

I looked into her eyes. She was crying.

Her eyes wide, glossy from the water threatening to spill as a thought came to me, flooding into my senses.

“Faridah?” I ask with a smile plastered on my face, knees bent.

She stood up suddenly, arms crossed, with an offended look painted on her face. “My name is Summer, not Faridah.”

I went crimson. “Summer, I mean,” I said with a less confident voice. “How about you help out with setting up tomorrow?”

She smiled a teeth smile, and seemingly forgot all about what happened. “Sure!”

I walked into the basement where the camp was held, the air thick and fond of the regular chaos. I realized that I completely forgot about my offer to this camper. My mind went through thirty years worth of self loathing before I found myself lost in sorting the sign in sheets, trying to connect names to faces. Was her name Summer or Faridah?

The July heat immersed everybody, creating this sticky, sweaty smog in the air. Everybody’s clothes reeked of sweat. The sweat stains were universal. My passion burned the discomfort in the sun, though.

One kid would toss a dodgeball through the ceiling, another would completely miss, hitting the ground. As more kids shouted for my name, I wondered what could be spinning through their minds? What kind of hidden universes resided behind their outer shells?

Through all the Hawaiian grocery store bread and apples sparkling with water droplets, to the first aid kits that never actually had bandaids in them and the marker bin that appeared to be the aftermath of a tornado, I found my cloud nine.

[navybluedaisy]

yes i call strangers online pooks only because they are also…..nctzens

[navybluedaisy]

.ᐣ .ᐣ

nct dream hosting a Q&A on twitter !!

a/n: ignore the typos PLZZZ,,,also the chenle thing is real, look it up 😛

[navybluedaisy]

m.list (to be edited)

🧡 debana (ongoing) - summary: a young girl named winter wants to be a competitive judoka ever since she ranked green/blue, but she suffers with severe anxiety. her parents never cared for her, as she was the eldest daughter. she spends most of her time alone or with aeri, her only friend. with this new found freedom of being seventeen years old, she finds herself in a lot more danger than she planned. she loves to daydream and loses herself too much, but her only friend, aeri, is quite the opposite. she’s crazy. a social butterfly. sometimes winter just wants to live a day in aeri’s head. they are each others half, and their story will unpack further into the book. winter never thought of being in a romance, not even once. she’s always slumped with school work and judo that she would never have time for a relationship. so, she deems herself unattractive and unreachable to any potential partners, but aeri disagrees fully.

[navybluedaisy]

[debana] - judo fiction writing

two: princess

i remember only starting judo because my mother suggested it to me, and i happened to agree. now, i’m here, almost three years later. i’ve gone up three and a half belt ranks which may seem like a lot but i can only feel insecure about my abilities. congratulations she said, but i wasn’t feeling congratulations worthy, i guess. i was awarded a green/blue belt, which feels like a belt that only super advanced students can rank to, but me? it blows my mind my coach thought this was a good idea to put me with the advanced levels.

i hung my belts in an orderly manner last night, so i do not lose them, and just so i can show them off to whoever enters my room. sheesh, i think, i might have a slight increase of fractured ligaments in the near future…

i walk away from my room, again in my thoughts not thinking really…just living in them. my coach told me to eat healthy but of course, the foodie in me decided to eat other snacks. well once she told me to eat chocolate, so she can’t complain about me not sticking to a diet.

it’s funny how serious i get when i’m fighting, i mean come on it can’t be that serious, especially when i’m fighting my friends. but my coach is always telling us to be rough with empathy and kindness. to choke with love and stop when they tap the mat. three times usually. i think i once nearly broke my friend’s arm because she in fact did not tap the mat. i keep living in my thoughts, envisioning me in the blaring fluorescents, on a brightly colored mat across from the girl i only want to beat. to overpower. i envision all my teammates yelling at me to keep going, to be stronger, and my coach doing the same. the smile she would paint on her face would be so large i’d get lost in it. she would be so proud of me if i won.

~

“two days before the comp, eh? thursdays are usually cursed tbh,” aeri chortles out. “you’re lucky you still have a few days to prepare, princess”

aeri is my friend that i made during training. she’s a belt behind me, orange/green, but we are usually stuck with each other because we are the same size.

i glare at her, hard.

“you know we aren’t texting…this is in real life…why did you say “tee bee aych,” i say as i make a exaggerated look on my face, almost mocking her, “…and i’m not your princess.”

“girl, you know i’m too lazy to speak sometimes, don’t judge,” she says. “and you will always be my princess, no matter how gay it sounds.”

i glare at her harder. I have always loved aeri, she’s been such a huge support for me and never lets me down. she’s my moon when im dark and gloomy. i fix my posture and her strange expression makes me lose the imaginary battle to keep a straight face. i start giggling at the obnoxious retort aeri made; she can never get away from her rambunctious vocabulary.

she sips on her boba. i observe her cheerful demeanor. her love to light up the room. i’ve always wonders what hides behind those hazel eyes of hers. she rarely speaks about personal stuff, and if anyone tries to ask her about sensitive topics, she turns the conversation into some crazy mixture of her vocab soup. she’s really, really good at that. i wish i could be like that.

i’m not really like aeri in terms of lighting up the room. in fact, im quite the opposite. i’m judgmental, some could view me as having a dark and unfriendly personality, but i genuinely hate to be perceived that way. in reality i’m so insecure, shy, and self conscious… i’m so terrible at expressing my emotions and my vocabulary, it’s so easy for aeri, which i admire greatly. But sometimes i wish i could have that trait. my mind looks like a canvas that was painted on over and over again to the point of it being so thick you can’t even tell what’s on it anymore. a sludge of failed ambition.

aeri asks me something, but i’m so deep in thought my reality is clouded over. something about boba, a dojo, a competition, smudged eyeliner, messed up nail polish, matcha, blah, blah, bla-

“winter? winterrr? earth to winter?

i snap back into reality. “i must have been daydreaming or something…”

aeri laughs. “lol, you’re good. i’ve probably done the same thing. but as i was saying, i wanted to ask if you were down to go practice at the dojo that just recently opened at the gym,” she says. “i got really excited….and kind of forgot you have your…things”

“my things?” i scoff. “girl.”

“what? you haven’t given a label to your little space-outs.” she says.

“should i name them, really? that sounds kind of childish in my opinion.”

her eyes start to sparkle, as if there is a machine evaluating all the quirky word combinations in her mind. “do you want me to name them?”

“sure…”

a few seconds pass, just a few. and she already came up with some abomination. why is she even naming my daydreaming episodes. gosh.

“boogie inthurks.” she beams. “perfect.”

i don’t even think i can begin to form a reply. i’ll just accept it.

even if i don’t show it, i appreciate our balance. our sun and moon.

~

aeri gave me the nickname winter because i have always expressed my love for winter. the vibes, the long nights, no obligations to go sweat buckets outside. just pure bliss. aeri is probably the only person that knows and understands why i act so cold and shut off all the time. and she’s the only person who can help me let my guard down. i never understood why she was chosen to be that person for me, but nonetheless i could not be more grateful. without her i probably would never smile.

“winter?”

“mhm?” i ask back, flashing my eyes towards the voice. i try to be quiet as to not disturb the other people practicing.

“you dropped this”

as i look at my belt in someone else’s hand, i panic. this isn’t aeri. i rarely talk to other people, but especially not to the opposite gender. i look down, sweating, hoping this person does not expect me to make eye contact with them. or worse, to have a conversation with them.

“thanks,” i say with a shaky, unsteady voice. then it dawns on me. nobody knows my nick name winter expect aeri…

i take a deep, confused breath. this unidentified fellow judoka is probably expecting me to keep on walking. he’s just about to go on about his business when i raise my voice and widen my dark brown eyes. “how do you know my name…my nickname?”

unidentified man falters. looks up to meet my gaze. he sharply inhales it sounds almost like he cut through his lungs.

its almost like the sea of words bubble up in his throat, unable to come out.

he blushes, most definitely out of embarrassment.

scratching the back of his head, full of dark brown hair, he stalls even more.

he drops his belt now, and i don’t have the energy to pick it up for him. he’s tiring me with his incapacity for self expression.

“i don’t think you should know,” he finally admits. “at least…not right now.”

“but why?” i ask, confused.

“you just…don’t.”

“you’re making this really weird, you know? why don’t you just answer the question? i have this right, you know?” I’m getting a little defensive, but also a little scared.

“okay, then,” he says. “are you fighting in the competition this saturday?”

i gulp. i do not like where this is going. “yeah…”

he grins. just a little. “meet me t minus 2 hours on saturday, february 26th, and i’ll tell you.”

i hesitate. physically. i stare at his shirt for a while, trying to weigh the possible danger i’m putting myself in. i’ll make sure to have aeri by my side, and i should be safe, right?

“deal. sure, whatever.”

unidentified man turned his small grin into a big one. no clue why. and i do not care one bit.

“see you then,” he says, and bolts off, forgetting his belt on the ground.

“hey, you forgot your belt!” i say in a voice louder than i expected.

he turns around and runs back, picks the belt up that was at my feet, says a quick, nearly indecipherable ‘thank you’ and runs off into the locker rooms.

my gloomy, dark palette washes over me like overflowing watercolors.

i seemed to forget that aeri was nowhere to be seen. she would have been next to me, protecting me.

how strange…

previous m.list next

🧡a/n: SECOND CHAPTER URGGG i hope this cliff hanger didn’t bother anybody…tehe…and for a little explanation im using aeri and winter as the main two characters for now bc i think they fit the personas i have given them. just expect aeri to be super zesty and unpredictable. and ooooo new strange man oooo

🧡taglist is open!

[navybluedaisy]

[debana] - judo fiction writing

tw// mentions of anxiety. (i’ll add more if needed, xx).

🧡 summary: a young girl named winter wants to be a competitive judoka ever since she ranked green/blue, but she suffers with severe anxiety. her parents never cared for her, as she was the eldest daughter. she spends most of her time alone or with aeri, her only friend. with this new found freedom of being seventeen years old, she finds herself in a lot more danger than she planned. she loves to daydream and loses herself too much, but her only friend, aeri, is quite the opposite. she’s crazy. a social butterfly. sometimes winter just wants to live a day in aeri’s head. they are each others half, and their story will unpack further into the book. winter never thought of being in a romance, not even once. she’s always slumped with school work and judo that she would never have time for a relationship. so, she deems herself unattractive and unreachable to any potential partners, but aeri disagrees fully.

judo is a martial art btw! similar to jiu jitsu!

note: i use the names “aeri” and “winter” as in the members from aespa, but when i write this fic i do not envision these characters to look like them, instead i gave them their personalities that i perceive them to have. these characters are exaggerated of course, and this is fiction so do not take anything too seriously.

m.list

🧡 (1) maybe it’s in the things i eat

🧡 (2) princess

to be continued…

[navybluedaisy]

[debana]- judo fiction writing

one: maybe it’s in the things i eat

“fix your posture!” My coach explained to me, a disheveled girl, fighting her third fight of the day. I am: exhausted, light headed and probably hurt in multiple ways. I won’t let that stop me from winning this fight. Be a warrior, not a worrier…they say?

a/n: okay i did take that from pinterest shhhh

shuffling around, breaking grips just for them to be reattached, my patience was gone. my heart is beating out of my chest my lungs exasperated, all i can hear is my coach yelling at me to keep going. to hold on even if it hurts like being dumped into a river rapid. keep the grip break the grip swoop under turn swivel pick up

bang

my uke is on the ground. i gave her no time to react as i quickly put her into a mount, and proceeded to choke her. hard.

don’t let go is what i tell myself

keep her down keep her down keep her dow-

MATAE.

~

to be honest, i never really thought of myself as a great fighter, but for these past couple of weeks my fighting as improved dangerously according to my coach. maybe it’s in the things i eat, or just because i’ve been working extra hard lately to pay attention. it’s paid off, clearly, but i’ll have to wait and see what will go down at the comp next saturday. i can’t hide the fact that i am nervous from the depths of my bones to the flesh of my skin, but it’s worth a shot. i’ve got nothing to lose. except maybe my self esteem for a couple of weeks.

fights were always daunting to me. the pressure and anxiety that brew from the expectation to win were the main reasons i opted out of comps. they were too stressful for me. my brain goes blank and my heart nearly fails. it doesn’t seem right to me that my sport is designed to have comps but i can’t bring myself show up to them.

they’re like this rope i can’t reach…this parallel i can’t intersect. it’s frustrating how many times i’ve viewed from afar all the comps and all the victories. just once i tell myself. just go once and you’ll get addicted to showing up to slash up everyone who shows up in front of me. every opportunity will be my internal unity. unity with the art of judo and my debana. my unexpected expertise.

~

m.list next

🧡a/n: yaaaaa first chapter😛😛 i have had this story idea in my head for years and i finally decided to turn the thought into a story!!! lmk if this is a good introduction🤗🤗

🧡taglist is open