*heavy breathing* I decided to try to find a workaround for the long covid brain fog tonight.
Aka a new pot pot strain a friend recced to see if it would help me out with this.
It worked.
Do you know how well?
I just came up from a fucking five hour writing spree.
I'd planned to edit TRT's new chapter. And I did for a bit. But it wasn't enough. I had that itch, one that had been rattling around under my skin for months.
I needed to CREATE.
I NEEDED TO WRITE.
So I turned my eyes to the Raven fic's final chapter, where I'd been slowly working on adding the new scenes I wanted and redoing a few to match the new ones.
I didn't just enter the writing zone. I blew that fucking door off its hinges. I saw the scenes in my mind's eye, and I typed the words that came, and even when the words didn't show up, I waved it off, slapped in a placeholder, and blew past it. My hyperfocus latched on like a gator and did fifty thousand death rolls.
I wrote FOUR. POINT. EIGHT. THOUSAND. WORDS.
IN FIVE HOURS.
I may have forgotten to drink or eat anything so that's familiar too
This proves it. Getting TRT's new chapter written, if not edited, proved the words were still there in my head. And THIS proves I can still enter that miracle zone that makes everything worth it oh god i missed the zone. As best I can tell looking over it, this didn't fix my 'what word did I want here???' problem that I continue to struggle with. I still have a lot of placeholder words. But what it did do was remove my frustration, my anxiety, and my long pauses when I couldn't find a word I wanted. It was far easier to just continue on. It also gave me, for just a few hours, the ability to focus, enough that even as it slowly wore off I'd built enough momentum to keep going for a while.
Now I just gotta find a way to get there more regularly like I used to, without the herby nudge. Tomorrow I'll try the same thing though, only with editing instead, now that my itch has been thoroughly scratched.
And if anyone hears triumphant howling tomorrow evening, just know that it is I, Pasta, summoning the words again.
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I want to scream about Empanada so much!!!
I've read all the twitter theory threads about her being the eldest and having to put on that strong front and pretend she's fine to protect her siblings on egg island and thats why she acts the way she does with new people and why Sunny and Pepito look up to her so much. Now she's in a new place with 4 mums that say they love and care for her and that this new island is meant to be safe but there's this new enemy they're all stressing about and she's still keeping up that strong front so Sunny doesn't panic and still feels safe. And then when it may have finally come to an end one of her mums is there unlike every other time @v@ has been but its a mum who has a second kid and Em believes that Richas is in need of support more since its his dad so she continues to act fine. It's Sunny that steps up and has to ask Tubbo where Bagi is and stares at her until she comes over because Em wants to act like she's okay with everything and give that space to Richas and Bagi to talk.
And Bagi's new to being a parent, nevermind of two, and doesn't understand what she's doing because Em won't talk about it. It's the sibling angst where they're gonna have to have a sit down talk separately and no side is wrong they all have trauma.
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walk with me here you guys ahem,
Keith and Lance finally have The TalkTM on a day like most others. The paladins go about their business on the castleship, Keith and Lance mostly doing their activities together as has become, without their really noticing, habit. Keith flips through the pages of one of Allura's Altean romance novels on one end of the couch, Lance plays a video game on the handheld console he and Pidge found at a thrift store the last time they'd stopped off at a space mall from the other end. At some point they wander to the kitchen and make Hunk's latest attempt at space popcorn. They throw the pieces at each other, trying to break their previous streak record of 106 popcorn-mouth-catches. When they run out, they pelt each other with kernels until they collapse on the kitchen floor, out of breath and laughing. They clean up their mess together. They train, talk team strategy, help Coran out with some cleaning. They visit Hunk and Pidge in the lion bay and are promptly kicked out for causing trouble (neither of them can seem to keep their hands to themselves, always touching pieces and parts and projects, and inevitably something falls over and Pidge is yelling and they're scrambling away, giggling as they run down the hall). The paladins eat dinner, everyone hangs out together for a while, and life in space is pretty good.
Lance and Keith are often the last two left in the lounge as people split off--either to go to bed or to work on something independently until the wee hours (Pidge). They're chatting, swapping stories, arguing about silly hypotheticals, until Lance yawns mid-sentence and Keith knows it's time for bed. They stand together and walk to their rooms in warm silence, close enough to brush shoulders, neither changing trajectory to avoid the contact. They stop in the space between their doors to say goodnight; this, too, is normal. They smile small smiles at each other and linger, time stretchy in the way it is at nighttime.
And then something new happens.
"Keith," Lance says slowly, like he's turning the word over in his mouth for the first time. "Would you ever want--"
Keith's heart stutters in his chest and the silence of the empty hallway is suddenly deafening. Lance only hesitates for a beat but it stretches.
"--to go on a space date," Lance finishes, brows unknitting as he seems to consider what just came out of his mouth. Finding it acceptable, he nods, then lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Keith's wide-eyed gaze. "With me," Lance adds, an afterthought but an important clarification nonetheless, quirking an eyebrow.
Keith purses his lips for a moment that pulls like taffy into an eternity and it's Lance's turn to hear the ocean roaring in his ears as he waits. "Would that make us--"
Lance can't breathe.
"--space boyfriends?" Keith finishes and the air rushes from Lance's lungs, something like relief. Keith is smiling his mischievous smile, the crooked one that puts a spark in his eyes. It is among Lance's favorite Keith expressions (there are many).
"Yeah, I guess we'd be space boyfriends," Lance concedes, biting down on his lower lip to keep his grin from spreading too far. He's not doing a very good job.
"Hm." Keith nods solemnly. "Space boyfriends it is, then."
"Cool," Lance concludes eloquently.
"Cool," Keith echoes, and then they're standing in ooey gooey marshmallow silence, grinning softly at each other for a long time or maybe no time at all. Keith feels very warm and melty on the inside. Lance thinks he could run a marathon and not break a sweat.
"Alrighty then, g'night Space Boyfriend," Lance breaks the silence with a two-fingered salute and shuffles backwards towards his door.
Keith rolls his eyes without meaning to, affection heating his face despite himself. "Goodnight, Lance." He turns towards his door, grinning to himself as Lance snorts. Their doors slide open, their doors slide shut.
***
Hours later, Lance slips out of bed, buzzing with the news, and appears, bouncing uncontrollably on his toes and biting on the biggest grin, at Hunk's door. Hunk is rubbing blearily at his half-lidded eyes when he door slides open and he takes in the sight of Lance, practically glowing. Hunk blinks once. Twice. Does a little mental math. And it hits him. His eyes go wide and his mouth makes a little o, eyebrows leaping up his forehead.
"No... No." And Lance is nodding vigorously, eyes shining with unshed happiness, and that bit lip is barely withholding the giggle that threatens to erupt from the vibrating blue paladin. Hunk scoops him into the biggest bear hug, shouting "TELL ME EVERYTHING RIGHT NO-" and the door slides shut behind them, Lance's peals of laughter ricocheting down the halls.
Keith is awake in his room, sitting on the floor with his back up against the door, pressing a grin so wide it hurts into his knees. He rolls his eyes affectionately when he hears Hunk's muffled delight and finally stands up to go to bed.
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exhausted health update because I have to rant somewhere lol
So we're ending day 12 of my mysterious right-sided numbness. It's moved from just my torso all the way down my right leg to my toes, so now I'm just hobbling around half numb rip. And now the torso numbness feels like im being vacuum sealed or something, just a horrible tightness and lack that makes it impossible to ignore. Went to the ER the other night and had 2 panic attacks within the span of the several hours I was there, got my bloodwork redone and a cat scan which all came back with a big Nothing on them. They told me I needed an MRI but that I'd have to go through my Primary Care and after I told them my primary wouldnt see me until May they referred me to a new primary not in my network so that's been a dead end rip.
So far everyone is pointing at my horrific anxiety as the cause but not one doctor has actually offered me help for the anxiety despite me having the active panic attacks in the office lol. My Primary wont see me for several months despite the severity of my current condition and none of the mental health programs I've reached out to will get back to me so for now I'm just. Existing in this anxiety Ouroboros where my anxiety causes my numbness which causes anxiety which causes numbness. I'm trying stupid home remedies to try and minimize the active anxiety attacks but so far we've just been circling around alternating Holy Basil, Benadryl and literally just drinking Rum and going to sleep, which sure all help my anxiety a little maybe but also make it almost impossible for me to function normally during the day. This is making art difficult so commissions are going slow which is obviously making me more anxious lol.
I also am home alone most of the week managing the household, which is made more difficult since right now the numbness in my foot/leg makes it dangerous for me to drive and difficult for me to get around my house to do daily tasks. Idk man I'm just tired as all hell and I seem to vacillate wildly between full anxiety breakdowns and depressive/dissociative episodes.
At any rate during the week I'll just be constantly calling and harassing every doctor/therapist I can get a number for trying to find someone who will be able to either address my anxiety directly or can at least get me into an MRI to rule out MS or anything else that ISNT anxiety. I'm going to become the bane of the medical profession for a while.
Wish me luck!
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