#it’s ok something has to balance out the fact that this morning what motivated me to get out of bed was the basement convo about

[seilon]

AYE YOU DIDNT HAVE TO ROAST ME

Nah I'm just kidding it was funny. Today is bully Kevin day

CRYING SCREAMING JUNE 12TH IS INTERNATIONAL BULLY KEVIN DAY AND I DID THIS TO MYSELF

#kibumblabs #it’s ok something has to balance out the fact that this morning what motivated me to get out of bed was the basement convo about #the Fox Dream Phenomenon like that. that cracked me up so fucking much it made me feel alive enough to get out of bed #so now I guess I’ve gotten TOO high and mighty and must be vibechecked back into place 😔

[mallowstep]

how do you find the energy and motivation to write like... everyday?? i literally cannot write unless i am possessed by a thought in my brain and forced to spew out everything onto paper. and then i cant look at it again ot edit it. like, i really love writing and if im forced to do it for school i will, but i cant write for myslef.

practice.

first, i want to say that i am going to describe how i write, but it is not necessarily going to work for most people, because it has to do with my own psychology and mental health.

second, i want to say that i view writing as writing for pleasure or writing for work. poetry, for example, i write for pleasure, and i would not apply what i am going to discuss to poetry. that happens when i have something to say. it is OK to not want to write for work. that's acceptable and encouraged.

third, i want to dispel a myth. writing consistently is not about motivation. it is about discipline. and you should take heart in that, because motivation is hard to control. you can't force yourself to want to do something, no matter how hard you try. but if you build up discipline, you can learn to do it anyway.

i'm not going to go into that now, because i'm coming at this from the specific perspective of someone with adhd who uses pressure to force myself to function, which is...a hard balance to strike, and not something i can strictly recommend. it does work for some people. i think of it as an arch.

but i digress, i said i wasn't discussing the specifics of how i function in day-to-day life, lest i encourage others to do as i do.

okay. so. where am i going with all of this?

part one: a long, fairly incoherent ramble about me and mental health and writing

well. i don't think the idea of writing for yourself is very helpful to a lot of people. i do write for myself. but that doesn't get my ass in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard. the thing that does that is not social obligation to others, either, it is the firm knowledge that putting words on paper is going to keep me from falling apart.

i don't do that for myself. i don't do that for anyone but the human need to hold yourself together. i am very happy i feel that need at the moment, and every time i have stopped writing* in the past ten years, i have lost that need.

* writing here should really be replaced with a broader term. creating things. making things. working with my hands and something real. but writing is the best thing i know to fill this in myself.

writing does not feel optional. i started writing seriously when i was not-quite-a-teenager and had untreated depression. it was desperate, then. the need to know i was capable of feeling emotions. since then, writing has been different things at different times. it has been a social need. it has been a creative need. it has been a demanding drive. it has been something i drag myself to do because i know it is good for me.

i don't have to write. i could paint, or draw, or knit, or code, or any number of things. i have used all of those things, and more, in the past, but writing is something i also enjoy.

sometimes writing is dragging myself to the keyboard. it is not always a flurry of words as an idea seizes me. it is, "i am publishing the next chapter of ashes because it is monday and that is what i do on mondays." but.

it is monday, and that is what i do on mondays.

i hate not posting every day. i hate it. i am Untethered. i spent ca. three weeks over the summer completely disconnected from time, but. i post ashes today, it is monday, i move on, i go through the days and they are not the same.

i hate not posting every day. i know that i would be doing better if i could just break through and start again, but figuring out how is hard. some things i know (ibtwicm is stressful because another person is involved, and that means that i cannot work with betas, even though the one i have is absolutely wonderful and i adore her), but other things are just that nebulous idea of not enough time to start.

i don't always have the energy to write. some days are bad. some days my head hurts. i don't have the expectation that i will never miss a day of posting. i've taken plenty of time off. but i like the rhythm.

anyway. let me try to turn that incoherent ramble about me into something...actionable?

part two: what i tangibly do

i have a schedule. that is not requisite, but it saves me from making decisions. i have a schedule and i have fics and one-shots and they all slot into that schedule by arc. i could have done it by anything, but arc was convenient.

anyway.

i figure out what i'm posting when i wake up in the morning, and i try to skim over what i've already got before starting my day. i flick back and forth between writing and whatever i am doing throughout the day.

(which is why, as i transition back into my normal pace, the thing i have been doing to fill the gap will diminish. less au chatter snippets etc, because that is what i have been doing instead of writing.)

by the evening, i'm usually close to done with the draft. i spend a solid chunk of time patching it up, then i do a round of edits, finish my other work, do line edits, and post.

if i have time after that, i start looking at tomorrow's post.

that's it. sometimes i don't want to work on something. too bad. it's on the schedule. or even, "too bad, we're posting something today." unless i am having a bad (read: low spoon) day, i do not waver in that expectation for myself.

in fact, i think the only way ibtwicm will get done is if the final chapter two chapters go up un-beta'd, because the deviation from routine makes me impossibly frustrated with them. we shall see.

anyway. i have spent years building the discipline to be able to do that. if you rely on motivation, do not think you can just flip over and magically learn how to turn an empty page into words because you told yourself that is what you are doing right now. so.

part three: how to build discipline

i said i won't be covering this, and i'm not Really. i'm going to tell you how to get started, and i am going to be the Bad Guy. i am not capable of doing this kindly. there are other, better, resources i encourage you to seek out.

so. you can't start by just. throwing yourself into it. it won't work, it'll be frustrating, etc.

you want to figure out what a reasonable word count/day is for you. i shoot for 3k words/day, but i figure as long as i'm above 1k, i'm happy.

[aside: if you are going to be writing a lot in a day, please take care of your body. have good posture. know how to hold yourself. etc. i credit years of playing piano as giving me strong wrists and nice, curved fingers, and exercises to build and strengthen the same muscles as you use for typing, but just keep this in mind.]

anyway, there's no right number. 100 words is enough. it should be -- what works for me is a number that's just slightly higher than what i can do comfortably, because it means i have to be focused, which keeps me on track. i think this is important. it is not the only way.

and then you just meet that goal. if you're new to this, writing 100 words every day might be hard. you don't have to limit yourself to 100, just hit 100 every. single. day.

eventually that will feel easy.

"i don't feel like writing," you will think, "but i've figured out how to get around that."

then you either feel happy with what you're doing or push your word count up.

me? i don't measure how many words i write, because i've already done all of that. for all i bemoan research and being stuck, i'm generally exceptionally effective. i don't think that's bragging; i think the number of asks i have answered with scenes i whipped out of nowhere demonstrate that.

i have spent years getting to the point where i can open up a blank page, on a day when i feel like crap (emotionally), when i have no ideas and no motivation and every word i put on paper feels robotic and stiff and terrible, and still finish what i started. it's hard work. it might not be worth the effort. but. that's what i do.

#ask #anon #mine #personal #reblogs okay #writing #you know i don't think what i do is the only way or even the best way #what i do is the #what i need to do to be a functional human being #way #and that might not work for you but #i think at the least my thoughts on discipline and routine should be more universally applicable

[thechampagnecircus]

Monday, Monday

In the words of Loverboy,  Everybody’s workin’ for the weekend.   While that is true, I try to abide by the philosophy that everyday is special.  Everyday has a story.  Given the schedule that my family and I have, the weekends are definitely the highlight. The headliner, the crème de la crème, the tops. They are filled with the pleasure of social get-togethers, the ease of relaxation, cheat meals, spontaneity, champagne, and shenanigans.  Therefore, those Friday nights and Saturdays are cherished and delightfully anticipated.  But that doesn’t mean that the rest of the week has to be a total snooze fest, debbie downer slog.  There is just a hierarchy. That is reality.  The enticing mirage of the weekend in the desert of an otherwise boring, busy or hard week can absolutely keep us motivated.  But the truth be told, every day is a blessing.  I have found that the best way to avoid feeling in a rut, is planning, scheduling and getting organized.  I know you are probably trembling with excitement over such a statement, but hear me out.  

My eyes slowly open as the last whisper of the weekend slips away into memory and it’s Monday morning.  The most hated of all week days. This makes me feel bad for some reason as if a day of the week can feel sad or bullied.  I don’t care how many influencers, beachbody coaches, or new age pushers I hear saying Mondays are a clean slate, a new day, I love Mondays -I don’t buy it.  HOWEVER, it has turned into my day to organize the week, which I do enjoy.  There is still that disheartening feeling of the weekend being far off in the distance.  It reminds me of clips in movies where someone looks down a hallway only for it to grow longer and longer, like a loop they cannot close.  But the irony and truth is, as the day progresses that daunting perception in fact, gets smaller and smaller.  

I make my breakfast; egg whites, rice cakes with peanut butter and honey, and some fruit.  The Nespresso is revving up like a spaceship getting ready to launch into oblivion.  The frothy coffee begins to slip into the cup below, releasing the intoxicating smell of mocha and my brain is eager for those first sips.  Besides champagne, coffee is the second nectar of the gods. The yin and yang of coffee and wine, truly do balance out this girl’s world. Once the machine has finished its magical brew of caffeinated delight, I grab my favorite mug that is now warm with hope.  All you middle aged people know what I mean.  You have a favorite stove burner, pan, spatula, cutlery, etc. Don’t deny it.  Mugs are no different.  Mine is a white one with black speckles that is adorned with the emblem of a BC winery known as The Hatch.  It is reminiscent of a traditional camping mug.  It is stout and wide and perfect for a cup o’ joe.

After I have eaten, and half my java has been consumed, my synapses are now beginning to fire.  I take out my laptop to get my week in order.  I type in my password, and we are off. I have just recently evolved to a digital organizer. The stubborn old woman inside me is still a skeptic. I am very old school and a sucker for the traditional leather bound organizer that you write in, wait for it, with a PEN.  My shopping lists are still done manually, and I don’t know if that will ever change.  I’m only 35 but I can feel some crotchety and unshakeable tendencies forming already.  I own them.  The app that I use is called Opus One.  I tried a few others before settling on this one and it works great.  It is not just its functionality but also the motif of a conventional planner that sold me.  There is still the flicker of analog within me that will never die.  I do still have my physical calendar hanging on the wall, which gets some love, with jotted things here and there. However, Opus One is where I do the brunt of all my scheduling now.  

This all stems from the fact that I am a prolific note taker; always have been, always will be. I thrive on making to-do lists.  Sometimes I have to-do lists within my to-do lists like a nesting doll of agendas.  It really can get out of hand.  There is something about the act of writing everything down and mapping it out that calms even the busiest of days.  And don’t get me started on crossing things off.  It reminds me of the memes; Yeah, sex is great, but have you ever crossed every item off your to-do list? Honestly, such a great feeling.  The accomplishment, motivation and boost of productivity are invigorating.  If I am to be completely candid, even if I forget to put something I have done on my list, I will add it at the end and cross it off.  Just for good measure.  Ok, you’re probably thinking, this chick is crazy.  You might be right, but give it a try, you’ll see.  

The average week is filled with household chores, errands, appointments, workouts, family events, social engagements, writing, self care, meal planning, occasion preparations, job searches etc.  Nothing earth shattering here.  I live a wonderfully mundane yet lovely life.  Some weeks are busy and some are slow.  I relish every moment, even when I don’t realize it because I have been sucked into a negative place.  But I find the act of laying out your days ahead can focus your energy on getting things done while looking forward to the fun stuff.  We might be working for the weekend, but we aren’t living for it.  Every day is a story, embellish it.  xx

Copyright © 2021 Carly Eddy.

#styleaddict #writing therapy #manic monday #monday #organization #yycwriter #personal diary

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Becoming A Stark (14)- Peter Parker x Stark! femReader

Word Count: 1869

Warning: Swearing

Author’s Note: So we’ve hit the half way point I think (I think I did my math right lol). Also I loved doing the field trip chapters! I wanted to do something more fun before we get into the Spider-Man Homecoming Chapters which will start next! Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the tag list!

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“So is this what you do every day?” You ask Pepper as you sit in the chair next to her desk. Your hand fidgets with the medical alert bracelet on your right wrist, needing to fiddle with something.

“Goodness no. Every day changes. But it’s a lot of meetings and lunches, paperwork, press conferences, things like that. And about 90% of it is redirecting your dad when he gets on a tangent.” Pepper says with a smile. 

“What…” You let your sentence drift off, not wanting to voice your question.

“What….?” She prods slightly, but doesn’t push like your dad would.

“What if I decide I don’t want to run the company? Like everyone keeps telling me it’s my name on the building and stuff but what if I don’t want to ascend to my birth right or whatever?”

“I’m not a Stark.” Pepper states.

“Yeah but you and my dad are basically going to get married one day and then you will be.” It’s not that much of a secret that your dad wants to marry Pepper, he just hasn’t asked yet.

“Well... yes, but that’s not the point I was trying to make. The point is that you don’t have to be a Stark to run the company. When you turn twenty one, should you decide that running the company is not for you, you would just pick another CEO, or I can keep running the company if that is where we are depending on what happens seven years from now.”

“Would my dad hate it if I didn’t step into it?”

“You know your dad chose to step away from running the company right?” You nod. It was big news when Tony Stark had stepped down from CEO. Nana and Pops had talked about it for like a week when it happened. “He wouldn’t judge you or love you any less for choosing to do the same thing. He wants you to be happy. First and foremost. He’s already looking towards which schools have the best English Lit programs because he knows that his pull at MIT is going to have nothing for you. He doesn’t expect you to be him. He wants you to be better than him.”

“But he’s Tony Stark. He’s Iron Man. How can I be better than that?” You ask.

“Quite easily actually. Tony Stark, Iron Man, psshh. They’ve let a lot of people down.” Tony’s voice enters the room. “Honestly there’s probably even one of those Buzzfeed articles about the top ten ways that Tony Stark has let down people.”

“Tony.” Pepper’s voice alone tells you she disagrees, but Tony ignores it and continues.

“But you, Y/N Stark, you have the chance to do anything in the world. And you will make me a proud dad by doing that. You don’t have to do anything with the company if you don’t want to and I will be completely happy with that you know why? Because you are my daughter. And that’s the only thing I need to make me happy.” He places a kiss on the top of your head. “That and doing whatever it takes to keep Pep here happy.” He smiles at her across the desk.

“What would keep me happy is if you actually met your deadlines.” She teases. 

“I’m right on schedule. Ahead some might even say.”

“Some might, but would I?” She raises an eyebrow as she pushes some papers onto a different pile.

“I’d rather not sleep on the couch tonight so I’m going to go with I’m on schedule today.” Pepper rolls her eyes at that. 

“So then, what made you come all the way up to the office that you despise?”

“Other than the fact that my two favorite people are here?”

“You sound like you’re just trying to distract Pepper, Dad.” You tease him, knowing he had to have some motive, because Pepper was right. Dad hated the CEO office, even if the two of you were in it.

“I was making sure the two of you take a break for lunch. Especially since your class is heading down for lunch and I figured since your friends are there, you might want to join them.”

“And because my friends are there, you want to join them and embarrass me.”

“I’m just making sure you eat lunch.” He throws his hands up, trying to show you he comes in peace.

“You hardly ever eat lunch when you’re supposed to.” Pepper points out, but she knows that keeping you on a schedule is important with keeping your basals on a good schedule. “But Tony does make a good point that we should get some lunch for you. And how often do we get to have lunch as a family?”

“You don’t have like a lunch meeting or something?” You ask, surprised that Pepper isn’t running off to some fancy luncheon.

“Not today. Today I can take an actual lunch with my two favorite Starks.” She smiles standing up and walking to the other side of her desk. Tony’s arm wraps around her waist, pulling her in close. He places a kiss on her cheek.

“Lunch is my treat.” Tony teases. “Let’s go!”

“Lunch is free for any employees or family of the employees.” Pepper explains rolling her eyes as the three of you walk towards the elevator. 

“FRI take us to the cafeteria.”

“Sure thing boss.” The elevator takes you down the twenty floors and as you walk out the doors you see your friends sitting at tables.

“I’ll get you food. Go sit with your friends.” Tony kisses the top of your head as he walks over to get food with Pepper. You make your way over to where Astrid, Betty, Liz, Ned, Peter, and a girl that you think her name is Michelle sit. There’s still a couple open seats at the table so your dad and Pepper will be able to join too.

“Y/N!” Betty and Astrid call your name out as you sit down.

“Are you ok?” Betty’s concern is voiced quickly.

“I’m fine, I came back into range before Peter joined back up with the group.” You explain taking the empty seat next to Peter, who already knew all of this.

“Then why didn’t you come back to the group? Your dad told Mr. Shah there were important Stark matters.”

“I’m spending the rest of the field trip with Pepper. Dad thinks it makes more sense for me to learn about what she does since I’m supposed to take over the company one day then to learn the public tour side of things.” You shrug. “Although I’m not sure how much of Pepper’s job is public knowledge so I’m not sure what my report about what I learned at SI will be about.”

“Just take a page out of your dad’s twitter and write you know who I am. Short, sweet and to the point.” Michelle says not even looking up from her book.

“I think that would be hilarious but I don't think I’d pass with that. And I need a passing grade so I don’t have to take biology over again.” You explain. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“My friends call me MJ.” The dark haired girl explains.

“I thought you didn’t have any friends?” Ned questions.

“She has at least one.” You defend quickly, sensing something about this girl that you like. MJ and Ned both look up at you, but Peter just shakes his head like he should have seen this coming. What he didn’t see coming, was Tony and Pepper coming to sit with a group of teens. 

Tony sits in the seat next to you, placing a tray of food in front of you, before acknowledging the silence that has fallen over the table. “Yes yes I know it is shocking. Pepper Potts, CEO. She is just as amazing in person and you think she would be.” He flashes a smile at the table and you roll your eyes.

“I think you all probably know my obnoxious dad. And this, as he mentioned is Pepper. She is amazing.” You can’t help but agree with your dad on that one. “Dad, Pepper, you know Betty, Astrid, and Peter of course. Then we have Liz, Ned, and MJ.” You gesture around the table before finally looking at the food in front of you. Pasta with spinach and cheese, some fruit, a brownie, and… “Another green juice?” You look at your dad.

“Chef Louis makes the best green juice.” You dad says taking a sip of his own.

“Good for him. I already had my one for the day.”

“Think of it as balancing out the soda from earlier.”

“It wasn’t like I went out of my way to have a soda. I was dying.”

“And now we’re going to give your body something better.” You roll your eyes. 

“Pepper help me out?” You plead.

“He’s pretty set on this one.” Peppe says as she lifts her own glass from the other side of Tony. “This one tastes different than the ones he makes in the mornings though.”

“You know I thought the paparazzi was the worst part of being a Stark. But it’s the fucking green juice obsession in this family.” There’s a burst of laughter from next to you. “Something funny Parker?” 

“Absolutely nothing funny Y/N.” He says lifting a soda to his own lips.

“You not going to make your intern get on the green juice trend?” You ask your dad.

“He’s not my kid. You are.”

“I’ll trade you.” You offer the glass to Peter.

“If you give her the glass that has as much sugar as a Snicker’s, I’ll ban you from all labs for a week.” Tony’s voice drops an octave.

“You not going to just blast him with your gauntlet?” You tease.

“That’s saved for bad guys and boyfriends.” Betty and Astrid look at you with a look that you can read to see that they understand what you meant about trying to get a Homecoming date now.

“See if I tell you when I get a boyfriend then.”

“Remind me to tell FRIDAY to lock you in the brownstone until you're 25 then.” Tony teases back.

“Pepper’ll save me.” You say, sure that Pepper will reign him in before he could even get this far. 

“I got your back.” She responds with a smile. As you put the carbs into Queenie, the conversation picks up around you. Your dad starts talking to Peter about some missing part of a calculation for one of the many projects they were working on. Betty and Astrid are talking to Pepper about what it’s like to be CEO and you’ve fallen into listening to your two worlds falling back into one. You even take a sip of the green juice and shouldn’t be surprised that it’s not that bad. To be honest, it’s even better than the one you get in the mornings. But you won’t let your dad know that. But of course he notices anyway.

“Told you it was good.”

“Never said it was good. It just didn’t kill me.”

“Sure kiddo. Whatever you say.”

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

#Peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fan fic #Tony Stark #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #Pepper Potts #ned leads #MJ Jones #Michelle jones #betty brant #astrid stollas #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark? #Liz Allan

[thejosh1980]

(Seems like) Years since yesterday...

Today, 1 year ago, is a special day...

One year ago today was the last time I bought myself a new guitar... I always wanted a Guild, and as I had been touring a lot with The Cashbags I figured I could now afford it. It's blonde, with P90s and as close as I could get to one of my idols, Dave G from The Paladins.

I bought it second hand via “Ebay Kleinanzeigen”, right before a show with The Cashbags. The guy came to the venue, before sound check and I tried it out. I was in love... I bought it there and then...

I played it that night at The Cashbags show too. This was the only show I played my own guitar during all my years touring with the band. Usually I would use the band gear, as it best suited the look the band wanted (and it was easy for me, I didn't have to carry my guitar and amp to and from shows)...

It's also the only show I have so far played with this guitar...

Why?

Well that's cause of that damn pandemic.

You see, that show in Langenselbold was to become the last one The Cashbags would play with me...

I knew I was leaving the band at the end of the tour, which was at the end of April, but COVID had a different plan. It's kinda hard to explain how it felt driving to the show, a good 6 hours, with 1 or 2 date cancellations happening along the way... However, by the the next morning hotel breakfast, the rest of the tour was cancelled.

We lost 6 solid weeks of shows...

But how naive I was. I thought we'd be back at it pretty soon; dates rescheduled, last minute shows would be booked... you know the deal. But in the end, I didn't share the stage with the band again, I didn't get to say goodbye to half the band members before leaving Germany either.

Alex and I had only been married 10 days when restrictions started to begin in Germany. The full lockdown was a week or two later, wasn't it? I don't know, it's all a bit of a blur.

I was lucky, at the time, I had my studio which was all mine, so I could get out of the apartment, walk the dog and play guitar, loud... The new guitar got some action, behind closed doors of course.

You know the story, we started selling up, packing up and, eventually, moved down under...

It feels surreal to think how, at the time, we had no idea how this was going to affect us. It's quite clear the pandemic has brought out the best (and worst) in people.

I think for me, during my time in Dresden's restrictions, everything felt, well, OK. It didn't feel too bad, but I had a lot to focus on. The “goodbyes” to everyone was the hardest thing. I don't remember being under the weather, depressed or sick. I may have been, but whatever negative thoughts and feelings there were, they weren't strong during that time.

I was lucky to be one of the earlier guests on the Blue Note live stream in March, which encouraged me to do my own live streams in April and May. As unprepared as I was to learn so many new songs, it was a good focus, until it got too much.

In July we had “The Josh Fest” which was too much for my emotions. Dresden, I feel the love. I'm so thankful (and lucky) so many friends could come out for one last party. Reuniting old bands, new bands and old friends on stage, it'll go down as one of the best shows in my life. One that ended with me in tears...

When we had the first cancelled flight and rescheduled flights in mid July, I don't remember feeling too bad about it all either. I didn't like it, but our delay was only a week or two. And we had a roof over our head and Alex's family there to support us.

But once the 3rd or 4th rescheduled flight happened it started to get scary and worrying. I remember some really bad days in Meine. I had lost all hope of getting home. We were in limbo, and had little control over the situation. Our health insurances had expired, we were no longer registered in Germany and were worried constantly if the next flight would let us on. So many last minute cancellations, wears one down. I spent quite a bit of my time frustrated, depressed and helpless during those 2 months.

Once we took control, used some savings and bought ourselves new flights, we made it to Adelaide. I definitely felt better by taking action. However, another set of challenges arise, quarantine isn't fun. We were lucky with our hotel, room and food, but it's still tough... Very tough... And I sympathize with everyone who's had to go through it, especially those who are doing it under hardship.

In late September we made it mum's. We finally made it... I'd been waiting for this moment for a year (longer than originally planned of course). I made the decision to move in September/October 2019. I had achieved a lot in Europe, so many amazing adventures (good and challening) that I'll have enough memories to last a life time (if I can remember them!).

I wanted to come back and take care of my family.

When we arrived at mum's, it hit me... I was back! I didn't feel the excitement I thought I would. I felt bad for Mum. Like, shouldn't I have been crying? Shouldn't I have been screaming! “I'm baaaaaaack!!!” In the end I think it was just relief... We'd arrived almost 3 months later than expected. We needed to settle in.

I think settling in took a while. Is it still happening? Even the smell of the fresh salt air knocks you out! Lots of new things to get used to. Integration had begun. Usually I returned home for a holiday, now it was a return for good. This is a full time permanent position.

I did enjoy October through to January. Alex wasn't working, we had time to do stuff, relax... Enjoy the local scene. I don't surf every day, but definitely as often as conditions allow. I did some work, which I previously blogged about. Alex started working in December, and she loves her job... Things were pretty good...

I was, I still am, trying to get over saying goodbye to my puppy, my friends and wondering why I had little motivation to pick up the guitar...

In mid January Mijo, my little kitten, came into my life. Thanks to my wonderful wife, she knew full well I wouldn't decide to get a pet on my own, and on the responsibility to bring some fur into our lives. Damn I'm lucky.

In fact, Alex's intuition is amazing... She always seems to know know when to ask questions, when to listen, when to take action and when to bring coffee. Bless her cotton socks...

However come February I'd hit the wall. I don't know what it is, what it was.... But it's been a little while coming, and hasn't gone away. It did leave me in bed for 3 days, and don't ask me the reason, cause I can't tell you.

I've had a lot of motivation issues... I just don't feel like getting up... I have to, because I gotta drive mum to work and pick her up. Once back home, usually I drink coffee and force myself to do something, anything... I've used the excuse of “training Mijo” that I visit friends with him, but really my heart hasn't been in it. I just know I'd feel guilty if I didn't do anything...

I've had a lot of paperwork to fill out since getting home. Bank accounts and all that kind of stuff... Alex's visa (which is still on going for another 18 months or so). Also local government bureaucratic stuff I have to deal with. Taxes! I'm planning to start studying in April, but to enroll the process comes with a lot of documentation, questions and answers...

So... Lately...

I have distanced myself from everyone lately. Except for a few moments, I haven't picked up the guitar in almost 12 months. I barely do anything. Writing this blog today, has taken a lot of energy and focus to start. If it wasn't for the “anniversary” today, I wouldn't have even begun to type.

To help you understand the hole I was (and still am) in... I have been blessed with a roof over my head, food every day, a loving wife, a beautiful kitten, a loving mum (and family and friends), the beach, the sounds of birds waking me up and (mostly) great weather... But I'm still unhappy...

How could that be? Why is that?

I know I wrote a few times before, that writing has helped me process my feelings. So I figured I'd better try it. Practice what I preach!... But don't ask me how I feel, I just don't know... and it can change in a heart beat.

I got out of bed today, and I did some office work... First time in over a week... Stuff I've been putting off... I'll need to make a few calls this afternoon too... But in between I think I'll rest... Relax...

Usually, I push myself too much... I have pushed myself to the edge (again)... I've been feeling desperate, unmotivated, hopeless, helpless and, well, just plain shit... I know I gotta get out of it, but these days I'm trying a new approach: pull back, relax, rethink, rest and figure out the right balance... So far I am somewhere in the middle....

At least I think I feel better than when I was constantly powering through and not acknowledging my feelings.

I'm my worst critic, and I feel guilty if I don't “do” every day... I gotta “do” this or that... But sometimes you gotta take care of yourself... That is also a “do”... isn't it? Self care. Self love. Listening to your body.

So it's been one of the roughest years in a long time for us... hasn't it??

Damn...

Please don't do what I do and ignore the stress and pressure... What I mean is, there's been so many new things for all of us, so many new challenges, we forget how far we've come. We forget we are still here.

We have achieved so much, even if it's the fact we got out of bed today!!!

We need to be kind to each other, but more importantly to ourselves. I wouldn't treat my pet, my friends or my family as badly as I do myself, so why am I doing that?? It's gotta stop.

I gotta listen to myself when I don't feel up to it, and forgive myself for putting myself first... Rest... Reflection... Relaxing... Recuperation... Maybe then I can begin the next chore... Like filling out this damn paperwork just to get into college...

https://youtu.be/-rkq9ffBpWY - The Paladins - Years Since Yesterday

Thanks for reading,

Josh

#depression #ptsd #musicians #pandemic #anxiety #struggling #self love

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information:  this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: none.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Let me tell you a good story - Part 4

March 2nd, 2048.

           “Do not laugh”. – Anna pointed a finger at Drake. – “I was still confused.”

           “Not laughing, I swear. It is completely reasonable that you thought she worked for Ms. Sayeed.” He nervously took a long gulp of soda.

           Kamilah was taping her fingers on the table, a sweet melody playing in her head. Nothing could disturb her peaceful life anymore. She was sitting by a beautiful wife, someone who still held her heart. In front of them, there was the most intelligent and sweet child in the world, named after Kamilah’s brother Lysimachus. Even Drake, the goofy human, was a delight company. He was the perfect balance for Lysia’s seriousness.

           “Are you ok?” Annie’s touch woke her up.

           “I’m perfect. Why don’t you go fetch the dessert while I continue for a while? I left a surprise for you in the microwave.”

           Anna jumped into the kitchen with impressionable speed. If there was one thing she loved, that was Kamilah’s volcano chocolate cake, a masterpiece perfected over years and years of repeatedly baking it.

           “Child.” Both Lysia and Kamilah said at the same time when they saw Annie’s reaction.

           “You know, it creeps me out when you two do that.” Drake scratched his arm, having goosebumps.

           “You should see when they fight!!” Anna yelled from the kitchen. “It’s like watching a couple of clones!”

           They were interrupted by someone opening the door. The flash of a sparkle on Lysia’s face told Kamilah who the person was faster than anything else. The human girl opened the biggest smile she could, but remained sat on the chair, not even losing her posture.

           “Uncle Adrian!”

           “Hi, sweetie. I’m sorry to be late, there was an emergency to solve.” He placed a soft kiss on Lysia’s forehead before shaking Drake’s hands and smiling at Kamilah. “Am I interrupting?”

           “Not at all. We were talking about the past. Actually, little brother, you arrived at the perfect moment. Now you can help me remember this part of the story.”

           “Which story?”

           “Ti storu uf ru we fil in luv.” Anna came back carrying the cake, a big piece of it already missing. Her face had chocolate all over the mouth, nose, and chin.

           Kamilah sighed. At this point, there was no need for translation anymore. Adrian only laughed and carried on. “The story of how you two fell in love? Oh, boy. Rough times. You think Kamilah is a tense person? Should’ve seen her realizing her feelings for Annie. I thought New York wouldn’t survive it.”

           “Adrian, why don’t you continue for us? We were just getting to the part you entered the story.” The vampire queen said over the table while cleaning Annie’s face with a napkin. “And you, behave. The last time you ate so much chocolate, you cried for the entire night with a stomach-ache.”

           “Yu crid the whole niti withy stumachache, bla bla bla” she mocked her wife, taking another big bite of dessert. Kamilah solemnly ignored this part.  

           “Ok, ok. Let’s see… So, after that dinner and the job proposition, Kamilah wanted to either kill or kiss Annie, it was still unclear.”

           “Hmm, both.” Answered Kamilah, watching her wife out of the corner of the eye.

 August 29th, 2018

           The sky was already dark.

           The sky is always dark when Kamilah is looking through the window. The same old dark sky she had seen for years. But, tonight, something feels different. The sight that usually calms her down, the peaceful shade of black marked by the city lights, it was suddenly not enough. There was an irritation growing inside her chest, heavy and dangerous like a bomb ready to explode. The reason of it was worse than the feeling itself. She had felt anger many times before, with better motives. Right now, Kamilah knew deep down it was stupid to be so bothered by something that small. Finally, not being able to stand her own company anymore, her fingers called the same number it always does at moments like this.

           “Hey.” Adrian’s voice surged on the other side of the line.

           “Why hasn’t she given us an answer yet?”

           “What? Who?”

           Kamilah sighed. She was so tired. Angry. Frustrated. “Why hasn’t that mewling tiny stupid woman answered our business proposal? It has been a week, Adrian. There’s a limit for my patience. I don’t have time for this.”

           “Hm, you’re mad.” He just acknowledged it, his voice a little surprised. “I didn’t know this matter to be so urgent. In fact, I remember vividly that you were the one saying not to rush things when I suggested hiring a historian. She must have given you quite the impression to make you so eager to close the deal.”

           She snorted, and Adrian was sure her eyes rolled as well. “It’s not about her. It could be anyone. I just want to put things in motion.”

           “Right.” He didn’t buy it. “Well, my friend, then I’m going to tell you the options we have, since you clearly won’t quiet down until something is done.”

           Kamilah fixed her posture immediately, ready to jump into a plan.

           “Fist: you can call one of the historians on the list I sent to you last month. Call all the fifteen options, if it suits better. They were all graduated in high profile universities and sustain the best curriculums in the country.” Adrian gave it a second of silence, and since she didn’t make a sound, he continued. “Second: throw away the idea of working with one of them and just make a deal with one of us. I don’t know any of our group who is a historian, but most of them know a lot about the past and maybe will even understand the mission better than an outsider.”

           Silence again. And then, the distant sound of Kamilah’s high heels hitting the floor, like she was impatiently trembling her leg. Adrian knew that sign. It meant none of the options were good enough for her. “Or… Third: if you do believe she’s worth it, you can always go over there and demand an answer.”

           Her eyes widened.  

           “Can I do that?”

           “Sure.” He laughed. “As long as you don’t hurt, yell or kill the poor woman.”

           That was it. The solution. She wanted the mission to start already, and if Kamilah wanted anything, no one could stop her from getting it. Much less a professor who hadn’t done the courtesy of giving a simple answer. After a couple minutes, the Egyptian found Anna’s address on the university website and head there without thinking twice. In a blink, she was already ringing the intercom, but it seemed to not be working.

           “Kamilah?” Annie was dangerously leaning on the window. “What are you doing here?”

           “We need to talk. Open the door.”

           The grumpy and ordering tone made Anna frown, but she didn’t argue. From the street, the Egyptian could hear her mumbling things in Portuguese while getting down the stairs. Even though Kamilah couldn’t understand it, she was sure it was cursing. Without saying a word to each other, they climbed the stairs to the third floor. Annie’s place was thoroughly clean and covered with the pleasant scent of vanilla. A mess of books and papers had taken over the living room, where a dining table was set: a dish with a weird sandwich, a glass of cheap wine and an opened notebook. It looked like she was working late.

           “Take a sit. Do you want to drink something? I’ve got wine, rum, whisky, gin, coffee… Water.” The sweet tone on her voice disarmed Kamilah for just a second. The professor seemed extremely tired, but even like this, she wasn’t able to be rude.

           “No, I… I’m fine. Thank you.”

           “What happened?”

           Kamilah’s arms crossed over her breasts. That confused look on Annie’s face was genuine. How could she not know why Kamilah was there? That was the last drop. It unlocked all the irritation that had been burning on the Egyptian’s chest for days. “Did you hit your head recently? Or do you suffer from diseases such as Alzheimer?”

           “Wh…What? I… No…”

           “Why the hell do you think I am here, Ms. Mali? Do you believe I am a woman who has the time to sit around waiting for you to make a simple decision? To answer a yes or no question? Look at me. Do not stare at the floor. Raise your eyes.” Kamilah approached her with such a fast movement, Annie barely saw it happening. In a second, she was standing before her, lifting the professor’s chin to make their eyes meet. “It is not polite to just disappear once a business proposal is showed to you. I do not tolerate this kind of behaviour. If you’re too much of a child yet, then maybe we were wrong to approach you in the first place.”

           Anna didn’t stop her. Didn’t move either. Kamilah saw something growing on the professor’s face, some sort of weakness she wasn’t expecting to find. Her expression was flickering between insecurity and sadness. Finally, an answer came.

           “I can’t stay.” A whisper. The palpable shame in her tone. “I’m leaving.”

            “What do you mean by that?”

           “I mean… I got fired. I’m leaving the country. I’m sorry.” She shrunk her shoulders. Somehow, the woman was getting smaller. More fragile. “It happened on Saturday morning, right after that dinner. I know it’s no excuse and should’ve called you sooner. I’m really sorry. I just thought that now that I’m no longer related to the NYU, my name and reputation wouldn’t be of any value to you. I guess… I was embarrassed to let you know and go through the whole ‘well, then we don’t want you anymore’ conversation. Either way, I am sorry. For not answering, for making you come here, for everything.”

           Kamilah was not at all prepared for this. She went from almost tearing the professor’s throat opened to drowning inside her sorrow and beautiful features. Without much thinking, the Egyptian brushed some hair behind Annie’s ears in a soft movement.

           “Are you leaving the country because of visa issues?”

           “Yes. Not the main reason though… Even if they granted me a permanent visa, I don’t have money to stay. I was a recent teacher at NYU, my payment wasn’t that high and most of it went to cover the costs of the postdoctoral course. Now I’m trying to finish some papers quickly and I still need to buy the plane tickets.”

           “I don’t care about NYU.”

           Annie’s eyes came back to Kamilah only to find an unreadable face. “What?”

           “It’s not relevant if you’re related or not to a University. That doesn’t change my stand.”

           “But…”

           “We still want you.”

           The professor was speechless, staring in disbelief.

           “Answer me, Annie. Will you accept the proposal?”

           Kamilah’s arms uncrossed and her hands went to rest on the hips. She saw a thousand of emotions running through the professor’s eyes in a second.

          “What about my visa?”

         “Not a problem I can’t solve. As for the money part… Adrian will discuss this with you. He’s responsible for the bureaucracies. But I can guarantee, regardless of how the conversation goes, it’s going to be way more than what NYU was paying. So, there won’t remain any obstacles forcing you to leave.”

         Anna smiled. Not because of the money. She just noticed that Kamilah had come in person not to fight, but to persuade her to say yes. That made her wonder what the Egyptian’s thoughts were right now. “I did answer, you know. When I got home, after dinner.”

        “Oh?”

       She pointed at the computer on the desk. “It’s in the draft emails part. I was going to send it on Monday morning.”

       Kamilah arched one eyebrow. “And what was the answer?”

       Instead of giving her the pleasure to hear it, Annie decided to contour the table and send the draft email that was waiting there all along. Inside Kamilah’s pocket, her cell phone immediately buzzed. She gave it a quick glance before smiling and walking towards the door.

        “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ms. Mali. Don’t be late.”

#kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bb kamilah #choices kamilah

[otomaticallyobsessed]

Quarantine Blues

Ok y’all so this is my first fic I’ve ever written... If anyone even reads this, feel free to give some feedback. I have some other fic ideas, and depending on how this goes I may or may not write those too. I think it’ll become obvious this is based off my real life circumstances - and I figured if the fic you need doesn’t exist, make it yourself right?

Karno x Reader, hurt/comfort

cw: depression, quarantine, some swearing

It was a dark, lonely night. I had been trying and failing to concentrate on my homework for hours, but to no avail. This quarantine was getting to me, seeping into my spirit and stealing away any amount of positivity and productivity I might have felt.

I am in my last semester of university. Actually, at this point I am only two weeks away from everything being finally over. But the pressure of finals, quarantine, and the reemergence of my depression is getting to me, and I am breaking down.

I sigh for probably the hundredth time in the last hour. I was getting nowhere, and the longer I sat here the more I wanted to just throw my laptop across the room, pack a bag, and go find some cabin in a woods somewhere and make my fate secluded from society.

I cast my gaze up to the night sky, trying to find some source of comfort. Immediately, my eyes are drawn to the familiar stars of the Cancer constellation. I sigh again, but this time not because of the homework.

Karno… I miss you.

I’m sure he is working harder than anyone in the heavens at the moment. I haven’t seen any of the Zodiac gods since this pandemic started, and I doubted I would anytime soon. I smile to picture Karno attempting to talk down Leon as he ripped into Zyglavis. Karno waking up Aigo for the thirteenth time that day. Karno staying up all hours of the day to make sure the department ran smoothly.

I couldn’t help but long to see him. He was always so calm, so reassuring. I could use one of his amazing hugs right now.

Ugh! Karno is working hard right now, so you should be too!

I shake my head to rid myself of thoughts of him. I didn’t want any of my wishes accidentally making its way into the department – Leon and Teo would never let me hear the end of it. And besides, I didn’t want to distract him.

I reopen my notebook, and glance back at my laptop. I really am trying to get something done, but I end up just staring at the computer screen for who knows how long. Eventually I groan and lay my head down on the desk. It was pointless.

“Well now, that’s not a sound I like hearing from you.”

I jerk up in surprise. “Karno?!” I frantically look around my room but no one is there. “Good gods I’m going insane.”

Two warm hands cover my eyes. “Well, I certainly hope not!”

I grab his hands from over my eyes, rise from my chair, and throw myself at him. “Karno!! Why did you hide?”

“I’ll admit, I thought it might be fun to play a joke. Maybe I’ve been seeing Ichthys too much. We’re all working together right now and its a little much.” He wraps his arms around me and holds me close to his chest. I missed his hands on my waist, and felt immeasurably more complete having him in my arms.

“Now, what has gotten my darling so upset I could hear her from the heavens?” I’m quiet for a second. Now that he’s here, I feel really silly thinking about telling him anything. I mean, he’s a literal god helping keep the world in balance, and I’m freaking out over a college final? “I tried to not call to you. I’m sorry if I pulled you away from something important.”

“Nothing is as important to me as you.” He whispers, making direct eye contact with me. He pulls away slightly, but only to guide me to my bed. He pulls me back close to him as we settle down. “Tell me what is wrong?”

“It’s silly.” “It’s not silly if it’s bothering you.”

“I guess its just… I can’t concentrate on anything. I can’t do anything right now either. I’ve been writing the same report for the last week. Usually something like this would take me three hours, not three days!”

“Why can you not concentrate?”

“The… uncertainty of the whole situation! This is an important coming of age time for me. Graduating college is huge for humans! And now everything is on lockdown, nobody is hiring, classes suddenly moved online, my work shut down… All within a week! And now its been six weeks, I’m still not recovered from the whiplash, and this room of mine has become a damn prison.”

He tugs me closer. “I’m so sorry, beloved. If you don’t want to worry about school anymore, you just have to wish it.” “You’re sweet… but I can’t do that. I have to do this work myself – otherwise I may have the degree but I won’t have earned it.”

“And that is why I adore you so much.” He pauses thoughtfully, then asks “Is this all that’s truly bothering you? Its certainly enough to have anyone rattled, but I feel like there may be more.”

I give off a mirthless laugh. I should have known he would notice something. He was too damn perceptive. “Maybe you’re right about that.”

“Mmm.” He acknowledges me, looking at me expectantly. His warm brown eyes show nothing but love and patience.

“Well… I don’t think gods deal with this sort of thing really but… Are you familiar with illnesses of the mind?”

“Well, I have heard of punishment cases of humans who have lost their grip on reality and hurt other because of it. Hue has mentioned though that are lots of different ways humans can be sick, physically and mentally, and that not all of them are so violent as those instances.”

I focus my gaze on the ceiling above me and take a deep breath. He waits patiently for me to say something. When I don’t, he prompts me, “I’m going to assume you suffer from an ailment of the mind as well?”

“It’s… humans call it depression.” “And what is it like?” “It can be different for anyone… But for me I can’t concentrate, and I just want to sleep all day. And all night. And just always. Always sleep. Because everything hurts, and I don’t want it to. I can’t even do the easiest assignment in the world! I can’t concentrate, and it hurts. I’m going to fail my classes and it hurts. I can’t see my family and it hurts. I can’t even take a fucking shower most days. And it hurts. Everything hurts. And it won’t stop. I can’t make it stop. I can’t make my brain shut up, and it just keeps telling me how shitty I am and-“

“Darling.” Karno calmly cuts me off. He’s taken my hand, and is slowly uncurling my fingers from my palms. I hadn’t noticed it, but I was clenching my fists so tightly that my nails had drawn blood in small crescent moons all over my palms. He rubs my back soothingly as he kisses away the tears marking my face. “How long has this been going on for?”

“All my life it comes and goes. Its… its been over a year since it’s been bad though. I was starting to think that maybe it was gone for good – it’s the longest I’ve been okay! I’ve been… good actually. I met you, I’ve made friends for the first time in my life, I’ve actually enjoyed school… But since this quarantine happened, its back. Its soul crushing, because now I know. I was naïve. It’s never going to go. It’s going to be with me forever.”

“Well. It’s a good thing I’m going to be with you forever too.”

I look up at him in shock. “Really? You don’t think I’m some kind of weirdo?” “You are a weirdo dear, but that’s because you don’t like spicy food. If we can get past that, we can get past anything.” I giggle a bit before he continues. “It breaks my heart to hear you’ve been dealing with this alone. But you don’t have to anymore, okay? Anytime you are sad, or lonely, I’m only a wish away.”

“But your work-“

“Let me worry about my work. As I said before, you are the most important thing to me.” As his words sink in, they fill me up to the brim and spill out as tears. “Please don’t cry anymore, my love. I’m here.”

“Can you just hold me?”

“Of course.”

I stay in his warm embrace, and close my eyes to inhale his scent. I could never quite place what he smelled like – probably something too divine for the likes of earth. It smells like citrus and… cinnamon, maybe. He runs his hands through my hair as I cry, and he murmurs soft words of comfort and love until I fall asleep there in his arms.

In the morning, my eyes are sore and puffy from the night before. I wake up warm and comfortable, and I realize Karno is still wrapped around me. Noticing I’m awake, he smiles gently “Good morning.” “You’re still here? I thought you would have left after I fell asleep?” He raises a questioning eyebrow. “Did you want me to?” “No!” I protest, probably a bit too quickly.

He smiles and gives me a soft, slow kiss.

“I do have to be going, my love. But I have a parting gift for you.”

“You do?” I look up at him curiously.

“Indeed. Do you remember my special power?” I nod my head, of course I do. “Well, I figured the least I can do is magnify your happiness, and productivity.” “But I thought that you could only magnify exiting properties… I don’t have either of those right now.” “Oh?” Karno smirked. “Then are you unhappy right now to see me?”

“No!”

“I know you, dearest. I know you are positive, and you are one of the most self-motivated people I know. They’re in there.” He leans over ad gives me a kiss on the forehead. Immediately, I feel a lightness and a warmth suffuse my body. “Remember my love, I am but a wish away.” He gently caresses my cheek, and I close my eyes to his touch. When I open them again, he’s gone.

I was sad to see him go, but no longer lonely. In fact, I felt better than I had in weeks. My love for him filled my chest until I felt like bursting.

Well then. Best not to waste a divine gift.

Time to kick an essays ass.

#Oops guess who didn't proofread #oh god here we go #scm #scm karno #star crossed myth #l365 scm #karno #scm karno fic #karno fanfic #I really didn't expect my first fic to be about Karno but here we are #I needed my sweet boy what can I say

[hotarutranslations]

I Wont Hold Back What Should Be Said Even If I'm Scared. Momusu Ishida Ayumi's "Junior Training Theory"

Spring is approaching, it’s the season where we’ll notice new employees joining gradually. There are many who get lost with how to treat juniors of different upbringings and ages.

 This time, we listened to a member of Morning Musume ’20, Ishida Ayumi who is actively training young people about how she goes about looking after them.

 I’m happy to do everything as a senior.

Ishida Ayumi. Born January 7th, 1997. Joined Morning Musume in September of 2011 as a 10th generation member, gained prominence in her high dance skill. In December 2018 took up being sub-leader.

 For Ishida-san, in a lesson it seems you pick something concrete that the junior feels is a challenge, you don’t just ask “is this alright?”. What do you consciously communicate so that they others can consult you easily?

Ishida Ayumi-san: Basically, I go about with the feelings of “lets do everything that made me happy that the seniors did for me when I has a newcomer”. For example, I can accept the fact that you get angry when you’re given a warning but, I think you’ll get lost like “Well then what should I do?”. I teach a set of solutions, not just communicating that what they were doing was wrong.

That’s reassuring, huh. I think there are serious members who won’t ask others for help. What does Ishida-san look for as an SOS from your juniors?

Ishida: I’m thickheaded, so I’m not good at noticing changes in others. Since its difficult to watch all of the juniors at the same time, I’ll decide “lets support this girl for todays practice”; I’ll consciously watch each one like that. Some of the girls have bad reflexes, and there are girls who haven’t had dance lessons until they join. With dance practice as well, I’ll try to explain things so they are easy to understand without using the terminology.

I wont hesitate to say what needs to be said

There are those who have a hard time pointing out issues like, “wont my junior be scared?”. For Ishida-san, is that something you worry about? 

Ishida: I think “its ok to be scared” myself. Isn’t strict guidance needed for Morning Musume to have a good performance?

That’s resolute, huh.

Ishida: Although I think the members that I’m close to in the group will complain about me too (laughs). But, if you’re just thinking about it nothing will be communicated. Someone has to say it, so I won’t be shy and I’ll open my mouth.

You’re taking the initiative, huh.

Ishida: But, since the juniors will be scared to go to me (laughs), I try to communicate things gently. In particular, with the 15th generation (new members who joined in 2019), I came to be pretty mindful that our ages and active experience levels are completely different.

What things are you conscious of so as not to feel intimidating to juniors?

Ishida: Michishige-san taught me, “greet them with a smile” and “Say what you’re thinking immediately on the spot,”. If I say later “actually at that time, this is what I was thinking” doesn’t it become something like, ‘she was angry this whole time……’. Concert rehearsals also take a lot time, and there are moments when you also have to fix movements on the spot.

What are the common points in juniors growth?

For Ishida-san, you’ve taken in 11 juniors thus far. Does your way of dealing with them change depending on the personalities of each of the juniors?

Ishida: It changes. When 13th generation Kaga Kaede joined, although she was a new member, she had a long history with Hello Pro Kenshuusei, so she was a girl who could do things more than others. Therefore, I started seeking out reactions like “What type of girl will she be when she gets advice?”.

You’ve come to pay attention to even the honor students, huh.

Ishida: When giving advice I’ll see if she’s a rebellious type like “I can do this”, or if the girl will honestly accept the advice. I watch to make sure which one it is. For Kaga-chan, her dancing is cool, so she should be the type who would do things her own way, but she’s a girl who will listen to me. Therefore, it makes me want to give her more and more advice.

For Ishida-san, what do you think are the common points in a juniors growth?

Ishida: Being honest and adaptable. There are things about myself I didn’t want to give up on, and I absolutely couldn’t move forward from that. When I first joined as well, I would really hate when others were angry with me. Even when my seniors would expressly give me advice towards my dancing, I wasn’t really able to accept it. After all, I hate losing.

What made you change?

Ishida: I started looking at the other members and not just towards myself. I was able to grow by having the perspective of “What are the differences in the way I dance and how Sayashi-san dances?”. I think I was also envious but, through recognizing my surroundings, I was able to understand the merit in my own dancing.

How do you take it when you encounter a junior and you feel like “Maybe they can do this better than me”?

Ishida: I get uneasy (laughs). Certainly,  I think this is something my previous seniors worried about. Like, “To what extent will I be able to help this girl?”

Its something Ishida-san is scared of.

Ishida: It is, it is. But, I have to say, when I’m lost I purely rely on others. For example when it comes to singing, I’ll first consult Oda Sakura-chan (11th generation) as she’s good at singing. Like for harmonizing parts, if I can’t come to a conclusion if it’s my fault we’re not matching, or if the other person should adjust. At those times Oda-chan will listen and she’ll tell us.

You have to think about how to motivate your juniors

For Ishida-san, It seems like you’ve come to think “what role should I play within the group?” as you get older.

Ishida: Really, the position makes the person. As more juniors join, its not as good for me to be moving more and more forward. Since for the group, the young girls won’t grow up. Basically, the new members will change up the concerts and fan events. In things that are on-air and the like, I’ll pass it over to Oda Sakura-chan. Since she will surely return the feeling with a sense of security.

With love for the new members, your ability to judge balance is amazing.

Ishida: Since I’m always spending every day with them, I know that everybody is a good girl and that everyone is interesting. But, during events the new members are so nervous they can’t talk. Therefore, their goodness isn’t communicated at all. I’ve grown to be conscious of “As a senior I have to pass it along to them”. There are things I also want to say though (laughs).

Its not good to summarize it in generations but, what are your thoughts towards the young girls now?

Ishida: There is a generational gap, after all. In particular now, we can’t have an atmosphere that’s very angry. We were raised to be sparking with competition but, I realize I can’t ask that of these current girls.

You’re careful not to push it like, “this is how we were”.

Ishida: Even these young girls have proper ambitions. Here it’s like, “how do I turn the switch on this girl?” and I search for that. If they like something, they’ll do their best in anything, and it’ll go well. As a senior I have to think, “How can I motivate them?”

Praising a girl for doing something for the first time

Please tell us Ishida-san’s style for “turning on the juniors motivation switch”.

Ishida: “I’ll praise them with all my might if it’s the first time this girl did something”. For me, when I was in my first musical, the director praised me for my acting. I gained something big from riding that recognition like “I was praised even though it was my first time, I can do this, can’t I?”. In fact, I’ve come to love stage work.

That’s a good story. After that, you were also able to be a lead in plays, Ishida-san. Finally, do you have feelings of, “I still want to be a player more than a manager?”.

Ishida: Of course I do. I haven’t changed, I want to go even further. As a result of considering the balance as a whole, I’ll just draw things to myself just a little. Even my fans will say “Ayumi-chan, you’ve mellowed out” and “I want to see the crackling Ayumi-chan from before when you were more competitive”. But, I want you to be at ease since I haven’t changed at all in reality.

Now, you’ve given priority to training your juniors, huh. Do you feel happy when you’re paying attention to your juniors?

Ishida: When I praise them while teaching dance choreography, I’m happiest when I see the juniors honestly pleased about the praise.  Receiving LINE’s like “I think I’ll work even harder”, seeing them write about it on their blogs, and the other day I received a letter. I was surprised like, “this is so much!?” but, I treasure these special events and interactions with my juniors.

https://ten-navi.com/dybe/8451/

#Ishida Ayumi #Morning Musume '20 #Morning Musume #Hello! Project #Article #Translation

[talkingismylifewrites]

18 19 and 22 ! love your work and hope you're doing ok!

18. what is a line/scene you’re really proud of? give us the dvd commentary for that scene.

Crouching down, he began to shove the photos back into the box, careful not to bend them or touch the glossy finish. But the moment he picked up the first handful, he stopped, staring in confusion down at his own face squished next to John's. He flipped it over to the next photo, this time just him grinning at the camera. The next, John, looking rather displeased, Roger's hand holding his cheeks tightly. Next. The two of them curled up on a couch, their heads bent together in sleep. Next. John from behind, but in Roger's fur coat. Roger hugging John. Roger and John drunk at a party, winking at the camera over glasses of beer. The two of them eating orange slices, showing off orange rind teeth. John asleep on the bus. Roger attempting to pour tea. John tuning his bass. Roger in John's lap. John laughing while Roger wrapped an arm around his waist. John and Roger. John and Roger. John and Roger.

John and Roger kissing. Roger was half on John, one hand threaded through John's hair, the other tight on his waist. It wasn't a kiss between friends, or even a kiss you'd give as a joke. It was a kiss. One between lovers.

Roger dropped the photos.

In the films, your memory comes back in some dramatic fashion full of tears and pain and a sequence of someone shaking apart while they clutch at their brain, agonized by the rush of memories. The amnesiac panics and flutters, weeping as it all comes back, hitting them over and over like a tsunami of pain and memory.

It was not like that for Roger. For Roger, they returned with a half sigh and the relief of finally coming home. It was like the missing piece that had been gone for so long finally snapped back into place, the key slipped into the lock, his compass finally pointed north. He picked up the photograph and his head broke through the surf, and finally, finally, he could breathe again. Out of the water and onto the shore. Between one second and the next, he felt whole after months and months of feeling empty and broken, searching for everything he had lost.

Roger rocked back onto his heels, collapsing on to the ground in muted shock as it all came back. Everything from their fights to their relationship to every damn dream he’d had and written off as a fantasy. John—his John—not Dominique. All of it, everything he had thought was true was wrong. It was all wrong, all of it. Dominique was wrong. Just being John's friend was wrong. Not loving John was wrong.

"Holy shit," he whispered, crouching down to trace the photo with shaking fingers. Freddie had taken it, in '79. They'd been over at Brian's for dinner and Scrabble, stretching it late into the night. Roger had been complaining about it being late and wanting to go home, but John had been winning and didn't want to forfeit. Roger had crawled into his lap and murmured all the dirty things he was going to do him when they got home. After one particularly filthy suggestion, John had given in and kissed him, licking deep into his mouth just long enough for Freddie to snap the pic, before throwing in his tiles and dragging a smug Roger home.

Because they still lived together. Not as friends, as partners. Boyfriends, lovers, paramours, as John's Kept Man. They were together, had been since January 21, 1978—Roger had missed their anniversary. He'd forgotten it, laid up in bed and sickly and John had never said anything.

"John," Roger murmured, dropping the picture again. "John!"

He had to call John, he had to see him. Scrambling to his feet, he practically flew out of the bedroom—their bedroom—and down the stairs, stumbling as he skipped steps in his haste to get to the phone, to get to John. What would he say? It's me; I remember; I love you; how could I ever forget you?

so i’ve definitely spoken about this being my favorite passage, but i can’t deny that its probably the section i’m most proud of. first of all, it was one of the first scenes ever written. for dyldyl; right off the bat i knew exactly how i wanted the reveal to go (although slightly different in some parts, instead of it being a photo of john and roger kissing, it was going to be a letter roger had written to john that discussed a morning bj in exchange for putting away the laundry). i wanted roger’s initial reaction to the revelation that he’d forgotten to be confusion that melted into sheer joy, and then for it to melt into horror and hurt. 

i also wanted to show that the act of remembering itself is not traumatic, in fact, it’s welcomed and almost as though roger can finally relax. roger remembers and he’s fine, he can breathe again, he’ll find john and be reunited with the man that he loves. 

i also very sneakily reference this particular scene many many times throughout john’s chapters as a kind of juxtaposition of who they are. john spends his nights sitting in the closet staring at their photos and remembering what they once had; so does roger. john also runs down the stairs the same way as roger in his haste to get to him, he skips steps, grabs the banister, spins himself around, he’s leaping down the steps to get to him. 

and, there are some mirrored references to john’s hurt in the same way as roger’s hurt. john’s hurt by the fact that roger has forgotten, roger is hurt by the fact that john remembered. the two of them are two sides of the same coin, and roger regaining his memory puts them both on equal if shaky ground. 

furthermore, the act of hiding the photographs is the kiss of death for both john and roger. for john, tucking away the photographs (which he has admitted are mostly his; john is the keeper of their relationship not just in pictures but in memories as well) is the sign that things are at their lowest, that the relationship he knew and cherished has ended. for roger, the hiding of the photographs is the very same, only for very different reasons. one was done purposefully, the other was done to them. 

i like to think that i managed to get the right sort of mood and expression of emotions right for something like this, and that i did roger’s memories justice. 

19. who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? why?

john is actually really hard for me, which is surprising because i’m literally writing four chapters from his pov that come in at 157k, plus however long chapter seven will be. i think it just takes me a while to get into his mindset? and sometimes i’ll write something that’s too ooc. john is so reserved in the sense that he holds himself really taught, and when he does break its an explosion of emotion and sort of overwhelming. he’s funny and witty and rude and so strong? but he’s also reserved. i tend to write to extremes, and that doesn’t commute with john. if it were roger dealing with john’s amnesia, it would be lots of anger and fury and tears and an overwhelming need to be supported, while john is kinda more ‘i’m going to hold it all right here in my chest until i die please excuse me while i go lick my wounds in private’. so it takes me a while and a couple of rewrites to get that tone exactly perfect. hence why john’s chapters have taken me so much longer (that, and the length). 

i also really struggle with freddie’s motives and voice, which surprises me because i think i’m the most like freddie? (okay, if freddie and roger had a baby and it was tag team raised by crystal and john). i actually tried writing a fic from freddies pov completely and i’m not gonna lie i really struggled with it. i think its because freddie is such an oxymoron of a personality. outward he’s very bright and brash and very social, constantly in your face with who he is and how he behaves, but internally he’s very shy and also reserved. his public image is very different from that of his private, and it can be hard to juggle the two of them. if you make the mistake of making him that brash and loud person when the time calls for his quiet side, you can lose the character in the blink of an eye. in order for me to understand his character and the voice i want for him, i have to try a little harder and write a little slower. 

it’s easy to make freddie just be like ‘darling’ and ‘oh how very dare you!’ and all other sorts of platitudes, but that wasn’t him. roger has said he was very shy and insecure, and that he put on an act, which is easily seen in certain interviews or when he’s been filmed without his knowledge. so finding that balance between devastatingly funny and extroverted freddie with his more introverted side can be hard. especially because the very last thing i’d ever want to do is make him a caricature of who he was. 

the easiest pov for me is roger because i basically just think: is this how a gold retriever raised in a frat house with access to cocaine would behave?? and if the answer is yes then i know it’s roger. if no, then it’s john. if fuck yeah, where’s the booze? it’s crystal. 

22. have you cried while writing a fic?

yes, but only because i was so frustrated over it. never because what i wrote was sad, because if i’m thinking it, i can compartmentalize it. i’ve cried reading fics, tho

[nathjonesey-75]

2021 in Electronic Music: A New Hope?

A long time ago in a galaxy far away…there was the nineties system. In that system, folk came together in happiness to celebrate together at places called nightclubs, where DJ masters would enthral, guide and entertain the folk by composing and conducting a range of sounds. The people would dance throughout the time of the stars, until the great star would rise – and folk would rest. Or they would fly to another dimension and be led by other masters to more happiness.

                                                ____________________

 It all sounds like a fairy-tale, doesn’t it? The world which was once a reality feels like it needs Jedi-style leaders to save it from the abyss, otherwise known as traditionalist business hell. The abyss which sees concrete futures made without character, without expression, art or creativity – where culture could be as one-dimensional as the spurious garbage emanating from the mouths of those supposedly in charge of moving nations to brighter futures.

 Also, without too much finger-pointing, 2020 in itself has been like a meteor which has hit the creative world like an alien rock with no direction. Furthermore, without conspiracy theorising (about custom-made laboratory viruses in secretive lands – oops, got sucked in there) and observing the hard, indigestive facts of October 2020 – where no end date is presentable as to when the uninvited virus will be vanquished. Can we either look to the future with hope for electronic – and indeed, all live music? Or are we to fight the good fight for as long as we can, to abate the ‘dark side of the force’ in corporate-led governments and cold business?

 During the damaged and lost eighties – socially and politically – times were hard unless you were a yuppie whose “enterprise” in the way of sole trading was rewarded on the stock exchange. Yet, what came from that mass hardship for everyone else – was what made us not only dream – but live out our dreams. Make dreams for others.

 Music was in the post-punk, electro-pop era. Hip-hop was sky-rocketing across the world, from New York – across the USA and over to every Western nation. As was House Music. As was Techno. The DIY ideal which once applied to Punk Rock in the mid-to late seventies now had been adopted by DJs. Is that a pair of Technics 1210s? Is that a Roland synthesizer? Ok, let’s do something.

 As Resident Advisor’s mini-documentary “How Punk Shaped Electronic Music” - about the two genres’ correlations – it says

      “The most radical part of it was an idea – if you want to make music, You don’t need a big record deal; a big, fancy studio – or even much musical talent. You just need the sheer force of will - to get out there and do it.”

This was never more prevalent than in both Chicago, where House Music was developed – and in Detroit, where technology’s advances in electronic devices saw Techno appear in the latter part of the decade. Still, the concept of not having to possess “much musical talent” was not necessarily true when it applied to some of the most celebrated electronic musical doctors. Larry Heard played several musical instruments from a young age. Underworld played instruments even before forming their first band, Screen Gemz – back in 1975. Sasha was a classically-trained pianist before ever seeing a DJ. I could go on.

So, in light of recent debates as to whether these performers, their industries and followings are “viable” for financial support during this degraded and destructive year  – I don’t need to revisit the figures of economic value for which our industry produces. As for The Stranglers’ Hugh Cornwell interview on Good Morning Britain on October the 9th – he said, “House Music is the worst song writing….there isn’t any song writing skills in House Music, for me.” Regardless of his own successes in the late seventies and early eighties – this is as moot a point to be found, as would be for anyone over sixty-five who have never understood – or tried to understand electronic music. Except by now, you must have been self-isolating from the wider world out there, where times have moved on from only guitars in song writing.

   Larry Levan was instrumental in writing music for Grace Jones, while The Stranglers were at their peak of popularity. Why did Madonna recruit both Sasha and Paul Oakenfold to help compose her tracks over twenty years ago? Why did Danny Boyle curate the 2012 Olympic Games opening ceremony with the musical aid of Rick Smith from Underworld? Why did Kendrick Lamar win awards for tracks with lyrics which read; 

"Shit on anybody, I'm a rappin' Porta-Potty/And I probably gotta dump right now". 

Hardly poetry. You could throw mud and hit anything if it’s about “bad” music nowadays. Ironically, John Holmstrom, founding editor of Punk magazine described that genre as "rock and roll by people who didn't have very many skills as musicians but still felt the need to express themselves through music". Except Punk Rock lives on in this anthem-led society of 2020. 

While Cornwell’s empty shot at House Music was filmed seemingly at home in West London, I would urge him to use his ideal location and visit the Design Museum in Kensington, where the Electronic Music exhibition is held until February 2021. The opinion of lack of skills required in writing songs – would surely be under further threat at the display of Jeff Mills’ instrument engineering, or Aphex Twin’s multi-level track and video choreography. The words “out of touch” are, I feel – valid in this case. Granted, every genre has producers who don’t try hard but write cheap, catchy songs – think of all the one-hit-wonders in the seventies and eighties. “Shaddap You Face”, “Star Trekkin”, “Puppy Love”…

These were songs made for either fun, children’s television, or for undisclosed reasons by each composer – suffice to say that none involved House Music. Yet over thirty-five years of House Music walking in unison with the rise of technology and evolution of nightclubs and festivals – has meant that all instruments and now software are taught and developed at schools, colleges and universities across the world. I would be highly confident of being able to write a cheesy, tacky and bad track in one day – whether I wanted the financial profit from it or not – would be a matter for my bank balance after 2020 (wink-wink, nudge-nudge…)

For future reference, with mists of all colours being spread across the musical galaxy as we enter the last two months of what has been an abysmal anomaly year, the anger generated by punk was closed down quickly by the governments of the late seventies. It was beyond saving as a regular, viable movement by the time the eighties commenced. Its direct anti-establishment nature would have made sure of that, were it in the situation we now face. 

But that did not stop its musicians from carrying on making music. Post-punk continued its energy and old regime defiance through bands inspired by what came before. Bands such as New Order, Public Image Limited, Talking Heads and The Fall - all had messages and attitudes carried from previous years. Genres were reinvented and music adapted. Moving into the unknown may be unclear and unnerving right now. Yet, fighting for what we can recreate should be a binding motive for DJs, promoters, clubbers, electronic artists and everyone involved in our scene. 

From recently looking back at a haul of 1990s editions of Mixmag and Ministry magazines I had stowed away, it’s clear we had it “damn good” at that time. We may – and highly likely never will return to that level of hedonism, heights of being spoilt rotten for wealth of music heard for the first time, the talent and progress of the producers guiding us through, skills of DJs and grandiosity and grunginess of clubs which we visited. We do, however, have these imprints on our brains and know what works. Living solely from memories is not what I am advocating – using memories and what we have today, as a global community to post flagposts of how the “underground will live forever” – in believing our clubs can be reopened and that celebrating our own culture at future parties, is worth the time spent in doing so. Do it yourself can work, as was ever the case. 

#House Music #Techno #Clubbing #Punk #Punk Rock #Post Punk #The Design Museum #Dance Music #Defiance #Anti Establishment #Governments #Conservatives #Music Is The Answer #History #Larry Levan #Synthesizers #Society #Electronic Music #Sasha #Paul Oakenfold #Underworld #Underground

[gplewis]

to memory’s landscape

I used to be feral, committed, foaming at the mouth when holding a keyboard

like Ezra Pound said, “Reading should make man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in his hands” — writing was that for me, the recycling of nested angst, unresolved childhood rage at unrecognition, not being seen as my therapist said...the same old beautiful white male coastal elite angst (anxiety, depression, fear of not having enough, fear of loss, fear of not living up to some imagined father’s expectations, fear of disappointing, fear of not fitting in, fear of losing housing and healthcare and food budget because I didn’t do enough good work, fear of falling behind

but what you remember saves you:

https://www.jamievaron.com/

Is it true I just haven’t web-designed myself? monetized and profitized and productized myself? gotten enough clients? fans? followers? patrons? do I even want to talk to anyone? do I even want to share my darkness and secrets? or is it so banal that I would not want to even be seen taking up space as if what I have to say is worth hearing? I appreciate your time, I do, and if I could fill it or suggest what to fill it with, I probably wouldn’t put my writing there. I’m becoming increasingly suspect and skeptical that “what I write” and “what I would suggest you read” have anything to do with each other; I don’t know that I’d recommend me — I’m still working it out, still doing therapy in every text box I encounter

all I write about is what I’m not, maybe — or maybe that’s just the dirt I pile to the side of where I dig; maybe where I’m going has nothing to do with what’s coming up; maybe the dirt I pile up next to my active burrowing has nothing to do with what I’ve found or what I see, only what I must clear away

“The more the marble wastes, the more the statue grows.” — Michelangelo

it’s not easy to be T.S. Eliot. I wonder if it’s harder to be G.P. Lewis, this thing I’m driving, trying to earn anew if thou wouldst possess it to quote a favorite line of Goethe ~ but I wonder what good this spectacle is of creative man raging against his limits, his inertia, churning up the chorus of opposing critical voices in his head: it’s boring, every man has them, but perhaps other men are trapped, addicted and beseeched by this desire to possess and control, to own and to win, to hold power, to be safe, to ensure safety through money, property, status whereas the poet knows all those safeties are illusions and always stripped away — men keep going to the office and putting on the clothes of their known identity (conceptual clothes; ways of posturing, speaking in a way that holds up power structures) to keep from facing the barrenness and nudity of having to stand with only your soul, with only your way of seeing, your memory and your skills, having to be seen completely by the world, and worst of all, yourself.

Surely a safe career (at least held in the mind as such) is just to keep from looking at yourself. One can say it’s for money, for the mortgage, for the children’s education, and it might be. But when night falls and everyone’s self gets blurry and disintegrated (as the cosmic summons back all its children for a night’s rest) we become aqueous; there are no walls, no one owns a thing...and the poet returns to his daytime work, the hammering, chiseling and engineering of a thing on a canvas (or in a file, or at a URL like this Tumblr post) that might make such men of industry see that they must become poets, initiate a softening, a milkifying, a creaming ~ becoming a different kind of material, being open to the ecstatic, the tender...I am here, perhaps, to rescue men from taxes and accounts, from holdings and balances (or maybe I just need to be rescued from them? Wouldn’t I clamor if a corporate woman came and wanted me as her house cat? Wouldn’t I be glad not bringing in revenue, being a homemaker, raising the child, even having some help to come in every morning so I could write? Is it possible? Is it almost here? Have I just not wanted it enough until right now? Is this what I want?

I think that’s the most spacious question one can ask: what do I really want? And it’s at war against just one enemy: what is expected of me; outstanding credits on the account of you, your becoming, where you think you’d like to go, what you think you’d like to do. What’s allowed. And this is where art must become the central force of any adult’s life (rather than checking work email or social media, hunting for inconsistencies or apparent facts that threaten one’s sense of what should be happening...perhaps the poet’s sensibility is that no one knows and no one can really know what ought to be happening, that it’s still an open question, that we are all swimming in that question and in fact we should leave all our clothes on the shore and swim out, trust our nakedness, trust the water, forget the fear we’ve had of each other, forget the fear of being touched...putting ourselves in each other’s hands, forgetting nations, forgetting governments, forgetting private property and accounts...can we do it? Mustn’t we? Is this not essential work? The work of shedding what we’ve been afraid of, cracking the shell of our scared ego and letting us become full-fledged spiritual beings having a human experience? Can we see a hundred years out? A thousand?

So what if this is an unhinged rant? Don’t we need some visionaries who insist on saying what they see even if there’s no profit motive, no agenda, no “trying” to “get” something? This is all proof that nothing can be gotten, that none of us get above being a floating eyeball reporting what it sees and what it feels. We are naked. We are only just beginning to see the light, crawl to shore and make our first night together with our bedfellow: patience, faith, solitude, gratitude, awe.

These are the nouns a poet must reclaim. These are the nouns that should fill the mainstream airwaves, that the young people should dance to and text about. But everyone does it themselves — I did. I listened and learned and took notes and lived in those notes, eschewing other ladder-climbing. No, I descended, I did not climb. The real estate upwards is all contested; only in the deep descent would I find no friction ~ and so I left the workforce. My LinkedIn profile is true (Geoff Lewis 🎨 ✍🏻 I think I’m called there) but I walked away from seeing myself in terms of organizations — the only aristocracy I’m interested in is the aristocracy of passionate souls: painters, poets, actors, musicians, composers, scientists, madmen, freaks, sideshow clowns...independent contractors, public amateurs committed to the form and the flow and the lineage and their own seriousness — yes, seriousness is a home, a hearth, a homeland. I want — no, I long, I yearn to meet and be with my countrymen. Need we go to war? Against what? The U.S. government not giving us another stimulus check? The array of paperwork and bureaucracy keeping the money out of our hands? Need I really turn back and brand myself, take up the arms of calendar and email and prostrate in front of a potentially paying customer? Why does money rankle me so deeply? Am I existentially furious that I’m intertwined with commerce which is necessarily about oppression and domination and withholding? What can my passion do? Is it OK that my passion only shows itself in silence? Maybe this voice of mine could animate you, a young activist, someone who doesn’t aspire to spend five hours a day every day in silent solitude reading and writing...everybody needs a job. 

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader- “The Bionic Woman”

The Joker’s son has a new obsession: his father’s much younger girlfriend. What started as an innocent crush is quickly escalating to a full blown fixation, especially since Alexis decided that if he can’t have Y/N, The King of Gotham shouldn’t either.

“Y/N…” Alexis gently taps your shoulder, smiling as soon as you open your eyes, “… breakfast is here.”

Even if you hear the shower and know he’s already up, you still turn towards The Joker’s side of the bed, stretching.

“Mooorning,” the sleepy Y/N hums. “I’ll jump in the shower too and we’ll be downstairs shortly, alright? You can start without us.”

“I’ll wait,” the 20 year old informs, watching his father’s girlfriend pulling down on her cute tank top before getting out of bed. The matching shorts makes her long legs stand out and he just can’t help it:

“Hey, when are you going to take a shower with me?”

The disapproving stare you give while heading into the bathroom makes the young man lift his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry! Sorry, bad joke. Ummm… but should I still hope though?”

You keep walking, uttering the perfect answer for his insistence:

“I wouldn’t bet any money on it!” you scoff and he laughs, the fake grin disappearing as the door is slammed.

“I got shampoo in my eyes,” J growls because Y/N’s words made him aware she’s there also. “What are you betting on?” he keeps on rinsing all the bubbles clouding his vision.

“Nothing really,” you take off your outfit in a hurry and slide the glass panel, sneaking in the shower by the King of Gotham. “Alexis came to say breakfast is here.”

“Oh goody, I’m kind of hungry,” he wickedly smirks when your fingers massage his hair until there is no more shampoo. “Did he run his mouth again?” The Joker asks and your silence is confirming the suspicion. “Are you going to trade me in for the younger model?” he slaps your butt to get a reaction and you snicker, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Naaaah, I like my old one,” the playful answer pleases him.

“Do ya’?” J glares at your boobs and you continue:

“What am I supposed to do with a kid? I need a real man, babe.”

“You sure do,” Y/N is slowly pushed against the back wall of the shower since he wants to add a bit of extra fun to his morning.

“The food will get cold,” you glide your hands down his wet body completely not giving a damn at this point though: feeling his soft skin and toned muscles makes you be up to whatever he desires.

“A quickie doesn’t take that long,” The Joker winks and leans over for a kiss, dodging your puckered lips in the next second. “Awww, not fast enough Pumpkin,” he teases and as revenge you grope him, knowing it will prompt retaliation. “Wanna play that game, hm?” J’s raspy voice gives you goosebumps as he lowers himself on his knees, satisfied when you let out a scream in anticipation. “Good lord, woman; I didn’t even do anything yet,” he gently sinks his teeth in your inner left thigh, purring louder when you squeal.

“I’m not a kid”, Alexis mumbles on the other side of the door because he’s been listening to the conversation going on in the shower. He softly punches the wood frame and Y/N’s increased moaning triggers him to finally exit the master bedroom at the mansion The Joker owns outside Gotham.

At least Alexis realizes he has to be careful after badly messing up three weeks ago: you are on speaking terms again and that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

It was Friday and J had to stay overnight at one of his clubs to wrap up a profitable deal with a new business partner. You were tired and decided to return to the mansion where out of boredom you had a few whiskey shots before going to sleep since there was nobody else around besides security patrolling the perimeter. Let’s just say they are not the most cheerful bunch…

At some point in the night, you sensed movement next to you and cuddled up to the body, assuming it was The Joker.

“I…I think I’m drunk babe,” your slurry speech made you giggle. “Wanna have fun?” and your hand went inside the boxers, immediately taken out by their owner. “That’s mean,” you admonished when you got squeezed in a tight embrace and felt your face kissed all over. “Such a tease,” you yawned and hugged the stubborn boyfriend. “And apparently a gentleman since you don’t want to take advantage of your tipsy girl,” the conclusion made the other party huff.

It was dark in the room and you wished you could have seen J’s face and how worked up he was by the closeness; you could tell anyway.

“Suffer in silence then,” you pouted and snuggled to his chest, definitely not suspicious about the episode because you had alcohol on board.

Next morning was a fiasco.

Something being abruptly swept from your arms made you open your eyes and saw The Joker dragging Alexis from under the purple sheets.

“What are you doing in my bed, hm?!”

J didn’t look happy and Alexis regained his balance, alarmed he got busted and stood there by the nightstand, intensely gazing at the carpet.  

“What’s happening?” you got on your elbow, slightly dizzy from the hangover.

“Yeah, Alexis; what’s happening?” The Joker sneered and those fierce blue eyes made the young man confess:

“I…I was making sure she’s OK after she had a few drinks. I was nearby just in case…” the weird reason was stipulated and you interrupted.

“Babe, you didn’t sleep here?!” Y/N frowned as she asked her boyfriend.

“No, I was at the club all night; just got back!” The Joker informed and you darted out of bed, ignoring the splitting headache.

“How dare you?!” the slap landed on Alexis’s cheek before you finished the question. “I thought you were your father!”

J’s son didn’t argue because he wasn’t given a chance; the detail that stood out in his mind was the fact that his parent didn’t suspect Y/N of anything, not for a moment.

It was a certainty that The Clown Prince of Crime was a jealous individual. Probably an understatement, yet he didn’t hesitate to suspect his own flesh and blood rather than his woman. Which made Alexis nervous he might get in serious trouble.

“Listen here, you asshole!” you shouted. “I won’t tolerate this crap, do you understand?!”

“I swear I only wanted to make sure you don’t need anything after you had a few drinks…”

“And how do you know I had a few drinks?! I thought I was home alone! Unless you creeped around the house watching me and that’s not cool! And why didn’t you say a word once you came in the bedroom?!”

Damn, you caught on to that! He didn’t think you would have since you were inebriated…

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to be disrespectful…”

The Joker was annoyed but your tirade wasn’t over: based on previous behavior and evidence from past actions, it was clear he had a crush on you. So Y/N had to explain the best way she could:

“I love your father! HIM, not YOU! Frankly Alexis, I have a hard time even liking you these days!”

The 20 year old held in his breath, hurt by the bitter news: he kept on hoping you’ll switch your affection and give up on The Joker, yet his dream wasn’t becoming a reality. Not anytime soon. Maybe you required time to see he was a better, safer option?

The King of Gotham pretended not to be affected by your revelation; why would you mention something trivial as love anyway? It wasn’t part of the plan. The two of you only got together to aggravate Harvey Dent: J can’t stand your dad and you get a kick out of creating trouble. Your rebellion against the former politician doesn’t come out of hate; it randomly happens when he tries to be overprotective and you fight back.

A year and a half ago fighting back meant a date with The Joker that turned into a little bit more under the pretext of irritating Two Face. The truth is J looks great for being 47: he seems younger, kind of ageless due to his unconventional appearance after the Ace Chemicals incident; he’s intelligent, has a dope sense of fashion and to quote your own wisdom “the only one in town that can satisfy a woman.”

Yes, the 30 year old Y/N Dent could have chosen another boyfriend, but she actually stopped seeing other guys since she dated J. And for some strange motive, he stopped seeing other girls on the side too, all under the excuse of antagonizing The Coin Flipper (The Joker’s favorite nickname for your dad).

The supposedly pretend relationship progressed towards something else to the point of him going ballistic if anyone indicated anything about the age difference. Your favorite memory is when J lost it while you were at the hideout on Glisson Avenue. Y/N prepared to accompany The Joker for a gathering involving money laundering and got in the car first, when the unthinkable was implied:

“Oh, is your daughter coming also?” Max sarcastically inquired, believing it was hilarious to bring it up. New York’s gang third in rank doubted his stand-up comedy skills as soon as J’s grave voice snapped:

“My what??!!”

Max couldn’t fix the transgression and apologizing would have done nothing, especially since he got a bullet in his thick skull that halted any sounds before they came out.

“Anybody else that shares the same ideas?!” he addressed the crew and Frost replied for all of them:

“No, sir!”

“Get rid of the body!” J barked and got a kiss the second he was next to you in the back of the car.

“You didn’t have to do that; I really don’t care about a complete jerk’s opinion,” you whispered and J grouchily snarled.

“I do! I have a son; never had a daughter and I don’t want rumors about me sleeping around in my youth! Reputation is everything!” the wacky clarification made you smile.

You rested your head on his shoulder, wondering why you both went through so much trouble just to upset Harvey Dent.

*************

20 minutes went by and the couple still didn’t show up for breakfast. Alexis is rushing back upstairs to remind you and The Joker the food arrived; he’s straining to remain calm after you brushed him off again. It’s frustrating that Y/N doesn’t pay attention to his charms and fancies his father instead of the obvious, more convenient solution.

The door to the master bedroom is cracked and Alexis peeks inside: you are trapped under The Joker on your tummy while he keeps nipping and biting his way down your back.

“You know what would make that old gizzard lose his marbles?” he sucks on your soft skin, leaving a lovely hickey on your right hip.

“Please don’t call my dad a gizzard,” Y/N snorts, amused at the moniker nevertheless.

Your boyfriend ignores the complaint and his over the top proposal comes without any warning:

“If we get married, he would have a heart attack and die. That sounds amazing, doesn’t it?”

You roll on your back, not certain if you heard correctly.

“And if we had a baby, we can basically buy his casket. I mean, that would kill him for sure!” the delighted green haired pest rambles on. “Silver coffin goes best with his skin tone, we could preorder tomorrow. ... … … … Why are you so quiet?”

“Are you… are you asking me to marry you?!...”

“Evidently. Of course I have to underline it’s for exasperating that old fart. Nothing else.”

“Of course…” you sniffle and The Joker buries his face in your neck, waiting.

“So… yes?”

He feels a faint movement and sighs:

“Are you crying?”

“N-no…”

“Liar,” he lifts his head up to look at your teary eyes. “You’re reading too much into this; the sole purpose is to annoy Harvey.”

Alexis is listening at the door, his fists so tight the nails are cutting the flesh. The young man’s ears are ringing and he can’t stand watching his father making out with Y/N, definitely about to have sex again.

And that’s when the diabolical intention takes shape in his brain: if he can’t have Y/N, The Joker shouldn’t either.

*************

1 hour later

J is entering the kitchen, aiming for the coffee first. As he pours the hot liquid in a cup, his son nonchalantly interrogates:

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Skipping breakfast; she’s going to visit Dent and give him some important information,” the elusive description infuriates Alexis because his father is not saying anything about proposing to his girlfriend.

“Why do you always have to win?” he resentfully mutters and J suddenly pays attention to his offspring.

“Huh?!”

“Do you think it’s cool parading around with something that should be mine?!” Alexis yells, shaking from the outrage he can’t control. “I won’t let you have her!! You can’t have her!! She’s mine!!”

The Joker slams the cup on the counter, angrily directing his suspicion towards an envious son:

“What the fuck did you do?!”

************

You barely backed out of the parking lot and drove a few feet when your cell phone rings.

“Hi babe,” you slide the screen, steadily driving on the paved alley.

“Get out of the car!!!” The Joker shrieks and you defend the decision you both agreed upon minutes earlier:

“I’ll return shorty, ok? I’ll tell my dad and…”

“Alexis rigged the car! There’s a bomb inside, it’ll explode soon!! GET OUT!!!”

“Oh my God!” you slam the breaks and flee the vehicle in a hurry, panicked.

As The Joker is running out of the mansion followed by a few henchmen, the loud explosion throws Y/N to the ground; debris fly all over the place and a few hit the collapsed body.

The small group reaches you and they are not sure if you’re still alive: there’s a lot of smoke, rubble and ashes around the unconscious woman.

“Hey Y/N, wake up!” J kneels by your head, attempting to wipe the soot on your cheeks.

“Help me with this!” Frost commands the others and the hood is lifted off your feet, everyone present freezing at the bloody mess concealed under the heavy piece of metal: your left leg is severed from below the knee, bone shards sticking out of the punctured skin.

“I need a doctor!” The Joker shouts and Richard is already dialing the number on his phone. “Somebody call Dent!” he orders and cups your face, worried about the serious condition you’re in. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

No answer and no movement.

The crew doesn’t even pay attention to Alexis, too absorbed wrapping Jonny’s jacket around the amputated leg. He silently watches everything, shocked to assess the aftermath of his actions.

“I didn’t mean to do this…” he pulls on his hair, terrified at the frightening view. “I swear I didn’t mean to…”

“GET HIM OUT OF MY SIGHT!” The Joker finally notices the young man’s presence, returning to his task of trying to wake you up.

Two goons drag him away against his will while he keeps bawling and shouting:

“Dad, I didn’t mean to! Please, I didn’t mean to!!! Daaad!!!!”

***************

5 days afterwards

“I’m here to see Y/N,” J straightens his shoulder in front of Harvey.

“I already told you she’s not doing well enough to receive visitors,” Two Face grinds his teeth and the men standing behind are making sure to block the entrance.

The fact is J wasn’t stopped from coming into the property, but he was denied access to see you for the past two days since you were brought to your father’s villa.

“I want to see my girlfriend!” The Joker reiterates and his own team is prepared to intervene if the boss decides to fight his way in.

“You have such a nerve showing up here again!” Dent brings up what’s been eating him inside and lashes out: “Your son crippled my daughter! Or was it you and blamed another in order to cover your tracks?!”

“I had nothing to do with it!” J defends himself and his threatening demeanor alerts Frost his employer is about to snap. “Alexis doesn’t live with me anymore; he’s on the other side of town, constantly under surveillance. Understand?! So get the hell out of my way!”

“Don’t you have any respect for the state she’s in?!” your parent changes tune. ”Y/N needs to rest!”

The Joker exhales and glances at the second floor where he knows your room is, electing to force his luck.

“Fine, I’ll be back tomorrow! Got it?” his finger goes under Harvey’s nose, then turns around and walks away in front of his goons. “Hold my coat,” J takes off the purple garment and shoves it in Frost’s hands, speeding towards the building.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Harvey screams although he guessed The Clown’s intention: J is climbing the decorative ladder full of roses leading to your bedroom’s balcony and in a few moments he’s on the terrace, stumbling on the long curtains as he steps inside.

The room is converted into a medical ward, a bunch of supplies neatly organized on extra shelves needed for your special care. The Joker takes a sit on the side of the bed, watching the pale Y/N peacefully sleeping. The IV dripping pain medication and a mild sedative into your bloodstream makes a faint beeping sound each time 2 milligrams of liquid is released from the intravenous bag.  

The thin blanket you’re covered with reveals your curves, making it obvious more than half of your left leg is gone.

The Joker pecks your forehead, hoping you’ll wake up before your father will barge in and kick him out.

“Sleepy head,” he takes the hand that’s not hooked to IV in his, gently massaging your fingers. “You have a visitor…” he smirks as soon as your eyes are narrowly opened.

“J…?” you try to concentrate, yet it’s almost impossible to verbalize your thoughts. “You … where…” the incoherence halts the sentence. “ Where were…you?”

“I was at the private clinic,” he justifies his absence. “Then Harvey brought you here; the damned Coin Flipper was a total dick and didn’t let me see you.”

“What did you just call me?!” Dent huffs because the compliment received as he opens the door to your room doesn’t strike his fancy. He wants to yank The Joker away but seeing his daughter starting to cry halts his movement and harsh words he’s about to spill out.

“I…I lost my… my leg…” you slowly blink and attempt to wipe your tears, not having too much coordination due to all the strong medications you’re taking.

J bends over and kisses you, willing to compromise for once.

“It’s alright, Pumpkin. We’ll get you another one, ok?”

You nod a yes and The King of Gotham shifts his head, gazing at his adversary.

“OK?”

Harvey stretches his facial scars in a vexed grimace, temporarily agreeing with The Joker for his daughter’s sake.  

**************

After 4 months

“Ummm, I think I’m ready,” you nervously pull down on your short dress, emerging from the walk-in closet. It feels awkward because this is the first time going out after the incident; you wanted to cancel but J insisted you’re overdue for a date.

“There she is,” your boyfriend snickers and gestures for you to sit in his lap. The titanium prosthetic custom made for you lights up certain pressure points with each move you make, yet the unique design doesn’t necessarily mean a boost in confidence.

“Can we just order some sushi and spend the night home?” you beg and The Joker abruptly declines the suggestion:

“Nope, I already made reservations at our favorite restaurant and then we’ll go to one of my clubs.”

He digs in his suit’s pocket and takes out a small box, urging you to open it:

“For you to use,” he winks and you gulp, opening the extravagant container that reveals… fancy business cards engraved with words that make you laugh:

-- Bionic Woman

-- The Joker’s Fiancée

-- Future Mother Of His Baby

“Lemme clarify,” he points out at the first line. “Bionic Woman because you could literally pass as a superhero with superpowers with this amazing new leg of yours.”

You keep giggling and he continues: “The second one is pretty self-explanatory and the third… we have to work on.”

The happy look on your face gradually dies out.

“You know what the doctors told me,” you sadly smile. “After the complications from my… accident, there’s less than a 15% chance for me to get pregnant.”

“I can work with whatever percentage!” J boasts, not a fan of your mood switch. “I don’t want to brag, I’m a modest person,” he dramatically flares his arms, ”but I’m good at what I do, even if I’ll probably have to get into Pilates or something to up my game; but I bet you 10 million dollars I can make it happen! Unless you’re a chicken and don’t have the guts to bet.”

“Deal,” you hesitantly accept the offer, aware of J’s strategy.

“Oh, almost forgot,” he reaches the coffee table for another present wrapped up next to the laptop. “This is for us.”

You pull apart the shiny paper and burst out laughing again seeing the book presented as a gift: “Miller’s Funeral Home Casket Catalogue”.

“We have to make a decision for the old gizzard’s coffin because he will die for sure when we’ll announce our plans to get married.”

“Please don’t call my dad a gizzard,” you frown. “He’s only 8 years older than you.”

“Like I said: a goddamned old gizzard,” The Joker passes his fingers through his hair, slapping your side so you can get up. “Now that you have business cards to share and a good catalogue with stellar options, I think we should go eat. I’m starving,” he follows you towards the elevator at The Penthouse, fascinated with the prosthetic that is actually a work of art. You are able to wear your stilettos also and J pinches your butt, aroused.

“You know what your best superpower is?”

“No,” you grab his arm to make sure you’re not going to trip on the carpet.

“Annoying your dad! I mean, with our combined efforts, we can at least hope for a stroke before we even give him the final blow with the marriage news.”

You snicker at The Joker’s perfect scheme, wondering why you both go through so much trouble just to upset Harvey Dent.

Also read: MASTERLIST

diyunho(.)tumblr(.)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

You can also follow me on Tumblr and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker jared leto #the joker imagine #the joker #joker #joker fanfiction #joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #joker suicide squad #harvey dent #mister j #Mistah J #Mr.J #dc #DC comics

[polyamorousmisanthrope]

I tracked every second of my time for a week. Here’s what happened.

Just for giggles and to give my border collie brain something to do, I decided I was going to track every minute of my day according to what I was doing at the time. Yeah, I know.  What’s the point of that nonsense?

In searching for a justification better than “I like playing with and analyzing data,” think about this: Time is all you have, and it is finite. Are you spending it in a way that is useful and happy-making to you?

What did I learn from tracking every minute of the day?

Some things that need change

I got some serious feedback on things I need to think about and take action on

The act of time tracking messes up the data.

Rather like someone who has decided to keep a food log, the very act of tracking my time has meant that the feedback has become more immediate.  Having to press a button on my phone to log what I was intending to do made me a bit more deliberate about what I was choosing to do.  I tried very hard to reflect what my time genuinely looks like, screwing around on the Internet or hopping like a bunny from task to task.  That didn’t stop me from wincing when I needed to deliberately say, “Okay, I am going to screw around on the Internet now!”

Time tracking is a time-consuming pain.

I could only stand doing it for about six days before I felt like it was distracting me from things I genuinely wanted to get done.  I could have sucked it up for the purposes of this article, but the sample of how I spend my time was reasonably representative, spanning workdays and a weekend, so I ran with the data I have.

I will probably start treating tracking my time rather like I treat tracking my food – only if it looks like there is a problem and I want a reality check.

I realized my priorities were screwed up

I suspected this. While I was spending a decent amount of time on my family[1], I was not so good at spending an appropriate amount of time on my friends.  In fact, it helped cement a decision to get my butt off Facebook – which I will discuss in another article.

I also was spending far too much time on chores and housework.  I know that sounds nuts, but while having a tidy house is one thing, and yes, I do want that, puttering around all day looking for things to put away or clean and listening to audiobooks isn’t really where I want to put All the Energy.  I deserve a nice environment, yes.  But I can and should corral that time into discrete units so that it is taken care of efficiently and doesn’t get out of hand.

I found that my time was badly scattered

I already knew multitasking is a myth.  You’re not multitasking, you’re context switching.  Thing is, if you do that, you’re bearing a cognitive load.  

Numerous studies point to the fact that as you context switch between tasks, your efficiency on those tasks, as well as your accuracy, suffers.  For work that has a heavier cognitive load, a flow state is important.

If you take a look at the screenshot, you’ll notice that unless I was teaching a class, sleeping, exercising, or knitting, a lot of my time was spent in context switching.

Now, the reality? Most housework chores simply don’t take all that much time or cognitive load. I’ve talked about that before.  However, when you’re switching your attention a lot, you’re not getting as much done.

I am taking away from this particular data that how much time I dedicate to something does need to depend a bit on the cognitive load the task takes.   Laundry, not so much.  Writing? Learning a new computer language?  I need to stop switching around and focus.

I was putting too much mental energy into exercise

Look, I need to work out. I do work out.

I do not need to spend an hour looking for motivational articles on the Internet about why I need to work out or to get me excited about my goals.  My body does not care about what it takes to get me on the treadmill or weight bench.  It only cares that I did it.

That hour I spend hyping myself up to work out is in no way adding to my life.  It would be better-spent knitting.  At least I’d get a sweater out of it.

Things I won’t change

Because living on purpose choosing deliberately is a big deal to me, I’m happy that I got feedback about things I don’t want to change because I’m happy with what I’m doing.

I spend a lot of time planning or preparing

Straight up, I’m okay with this.  It wasn’t a surprise and I was always happy with spending my time this way.  I used to have a martial arts teacher who consistently said, “Preparation precedes action.”  True. Very true.

Making bento the night before takes about 15 minutes a night.  If I eschew those fifteen minutes, I am running a non-trivial risk of not making a well-balanced lunch when I get hungry around noontime.  I’m fine with giving Future Me that little present.

Laying out clothes and tidying while the bath is running (I have low water pressure) definitely jump-starts my morning, especially when exercise clothes are staring me in the face on what I know is going to be a busy day.

Five minutes with my Bullet Journal translates into more knitting and reading time because I think about what I want to accomplish in a day and when that’s done, I’m blasted well off the hook for being so-called productive.  I had kinda figured this was so, but now I have a numeric comparison.

I spend a lot more time reading actual books than I thought

I thought I consumed most stories in audiobook format while I’m doing household chores these days. So I figured that the “Reading” part of how I spend my time under “Hobbies” was going to be a bit anemic.

Naw… Not really.  Part of this is that I read in the bathtub, and I had no idea how long I generally spent in the bath soaking and reading a book. I found out that I average about as much time doing that as I do exercising.  Nice balance and a pleasant surprise.

I get enough sleep.

OK, I already knew that.  I’m protective of my sleep and have been for many years.  I’m stupid when sleep-deprived, so I avoid that.  I find the bragging about running on too little sleep idiotic and I’m sure it contributes to our unstable politics.  That, and not making your bed.  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

So, a question for my readers.  Are you satisfied with how you spend your days?  If not, what do you want to do and how can you do that?

[1] If you’ve known me for five minutes, you know about the family thing.

[hoper5x]

Fitness

‪This was the end of last week after a week & a half of scarfing down whatever I felt like eating. Cleaning up diet again this week & I’ll update the photo again next week. Sometimes you have to take a break. Don’t punish your body for enjoying life. I learned that the hard way..‬

Don’t be disillusioned by good lighting and poses, my body changes constantly and it’s OKAY. Be safe, be healthy with your choices, but don’t beat yourself up either when you have a difficult spot. Just pick yourself up and keep moving forward. 💪🏼❤️ You CAN do this.

Expandir

#autumn ivy

#cosplayer

#autumnivy

#the bone collector

#narrator

#actor

#amazon

#costumer

#alternative

#cosplay

#fitness routine

#fit girls

#fitness

#girls with muscle

#muscle girls

#muscle

#positive

#work hard

#diet

… Ver todas

240 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

134 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

79 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

61 notas

drukhari

Seguiranónimo perguntou:

This might sound silly but you're kind of a referent here and I need some guidance. How do I get stronger? Like I really want to start getting buff but I don't know where should I begin. I'm not overweight but I'm definitely not fit or athletic, especially after spending so many days at home being sedentary. I want to focus on my back and upper body but I can't do a single pull-up/chin-up nor a push-up. So what exercises should I start with? Can you give me some advice? Thank you so much 💜

None of these questions sound silly at all anon, happy to help however I can 💙

So first off, the disclaimer that since I'm not a physical trainer (or have any formal education when it comes to strength training) I'll be supplementing any information described here with links to more knowledgeable resources who can dig deeper into the details.

Here's a good link to start with for some strength training basic info:

https://www.nerdfitness.com/blog/strength-training-101/

You can start building up muscle right at home using bodyweight exercises, and in fact bodyweight workouts are usually recommended as a great place for beginners to start because it allows you to build a base strength level and focus on form, which will reduce the chance of injuries in the future when you might choose to start incorporating equipment like dumbbells or barbells.

With these exercises, your body provides the resistance needed - so you don't have to order any equipment to cycle them into a workout routine. I'd recommend checking out the below links for some good bodyweight exercises to start with, but if you want to check out others as well try Google searching "bodyweight exercises for beginners"!

https://kettlebellsworkouts.com/bodyweight-exercises-for-beginners/

https://www.nerdfitness.com/blog/beginner-body-weight-workout-burn-fat-build-muscle/

Don't worry too much if you're not able to hit all the reps that some online resources recommend right from the start - that's perfectly normal and even the strongest body builders started out at that point once. What's important is to simply try and challenge yourself a little bit more incrementally over time, what that looks like in your own routine can vary. If during one workout you're able to do 5 lunges, and then the next time you try again you get to 6? That's forward progress, and you deserve to celebrate that.

The actual MOST important piece of the equation when trying to build muscle isn't even in the gym - it's nutrition and recovery. People can spend years training like a beast in the gym but if their diet is bad then they just straight up will not see the results, and that can be super frustrating especially when you're trying to really build up strength for the first time. It's important to make sure you're getting plenty of protein in your diet so that your body has the fuel it needs to build up those new muscles as you go - and don't buy into anything out there that recommends just completely dropping carbs from your diet. Carbs are a key part of a balanced diet just like proteins and fats are, and your body will require a healthy amount of all three to properly build itself up. Some good sources of each group that I tend to use in my own diet are below, but you're by no means restricted to these - and of course if you have any dietary restrictions that would prevent you from eating certain foods, then you can always do some Google searches for some ideas for substitutes.

Carbs: Oatmeal, whole grain bread, brown rice, whole grain pasta, fresh fruits like apples, bananas and pineapple (tropical fruits in particular can be part of a great recovery snack post-workout)

Protein: Chicken, tuna, turkey, egg whites, Greek yogurt, low fat string cheese, cottage cheese, whey protein powder

Fats: Nuts like almonds or cashews, olive oil, peanut butter (which could also be counted in the protein category!), salad dressings, avocados

This is not by any means an exhaustive list of options, there are a TON out there so I'd definitely recommend checking out at least a few sources to get a feel for what will work best for you. And of course, if you're in a situation where you don't really have that much control over the grocery list or some items just aren't an option, don't sweat it. With nutrition obviously you want to aim for a strong balance, and maximizing protein however you can, but even just working at cutting out excess sugar sources and junk food from your diet in general will go a long way to helping fitness goals.

https://www.verywellfit.com/meal-timing-for-weight-training-3498426

Aside from nutrition, recovery after a workout is crucial. Pre and post-workout stretches will help prevent injuries, and getting a good night's sleep at the end of the day will be super important to help those muscles you worked out during the day to properly recover and grow. When coming up with a workout schedule, you'll want to also make sure that you're not working the same muscle groups on consecutive days because then you're not giving those muscles enough time to recover and you'll inhibit their growth as a result (also risking injury!)

For just starting out, try to aim for doing some exercises 2-3 days out of the week for 20 minutes (though it's ok if you're not able to train for that long early on, it's something to aim for then!), so this way even if you're doing a full body workout (meaning you're doing exercises that target all the different muscle groups instead of just picking one or two groups per day) then you will still have at least 1 down time day between workouts for those muscles to recover.

Now that I've just dropped that huge wall of text (including links with even more text haha) I think I'll wrap things up. Again, I'm by no means an expert and part of the reason I tend to ramble a bit when it comes to fitness advice is because I made a TON of mistakes early on when I was starting my own fitness journey, some that cost literally years of progress, and I don't want other people to encounter those same pitfalls. It can be tough sometimes, especially when you're getting started and you're looking for those gains in the mirror after the first couple of weeks, but don't give up on yourself - as long as you stick with it and keep making moves forward towards where you wanna be, even if those moves are just baby steps some days, then I guarantee you'll get there.

Wishing you the best of luck in your own fitness journey, anon. You've got this! 👍

Expandir

#food mention

#fitness

#also if any followers who do strength training want to add links or resources - feel free

28 notas

dailyfitnessgirls

Seguir

#Lingerie

#fitness

#workout

#bodybuilding

#gym

47 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

27 notas

thatveganfitblr

Seguir

10k for my virtual Fiesta Fenzy run!

#fitblr

#exercise

#runner

#running

#runblr

#runblog

#10k

#10krun

#10k run

#10kmrun

#10km run

#run

#fitness

#no gym

#cardio

#strava

#fitbit

#nrc

#virtual run

… Ver todas

9 notas

gymbunnyamber

Seguir

#Girl

#Fit

#Fitness

#Exercise

#Workout

#Fitspo

#Fitblr

279 notas

women-of-steel

Seguir

Thea Renee Schuler

#thea renee schuler

#fitness

#fitness motivation

#workout

#bodybuilding

#gym

#girlswithmuscle

#girlswholift

47 notas

jaidspo

Seguir

thinking about how vulnerable this time has made me and how many big topics i wish to discuss with all 20K of u. hope u will let me open up the conversation soon ✨ let's get open n real with each other ok?

#me

#personal

#fitblr

#fitspo

#fit girls

#fitfam

#girls who lift

#plant based

#fit

#gym motivation

#fitness

#thin

#vegan

#bath time

#self care

#self love

… Ver todas

109 notas

gabriel294posts

Seguir

#alice matos

#bikini

#fit babe

#fitness

#fitmotivation

18 notas

gymbunnyamber

Seguir

#Lateral Sprint

#Girl

#Gym

#Agility

#Fit

#Fitness

#Exercise

#Workout

#Fitspo

#Fitblr

60 notas

geneticallymodifiednerd

Seguir

Today's workout brought to you by my cute hamster shirt!

2 miles walked on the VACANT Greenway this morning. 🎉 Shout out to the rain and chill for scaring all the people away! 😂

Then got in my core workout and some yoga!

(I even applied for a job today 😬)

Expandir

#fitblr

#fitness journey

#fitness

#health & fitness

#runblr

#core day

#core workout

#core work

#core

#yoga

#namaste

#wheel pose

… Ver todas

9 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

38 notas

fit-avocados

Seguir

Missing family time during this quarantine🤍

#me

#personal

#fitblr

#fit

#motivation

#inspiration

#love

#selfie

#healthy

#workout

#family

#fitness

#smile

30 notas

dovecameron-updates

Seguir

#dove cameron

#style

#fashion

#beauty

#fitness

28 notas

majesticfit

Seguir

#fitness

#Tommy Hilfiger

#Under Armour

#cute boys

#rear view

64 notas

majesticfit

Seguir

#cute boys

#fitness

31 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

91 notas

gymbunnyamber

Seguir

#Bicycle Crunch

#Girl

#Gym

#Fit

#Fitness

#Exercise

#Workout

#Fitspo

#Fitblr

#Ponytail

73 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

59 notas

gymbunnyamber

Seguir

#Running

#Fitness

#Exercise

#Girl

#Outdoors

#Workout

29 notas

thatbrownsolution

Seguir

Training Accessories and PR. Mga huling araw bago nag close yung gym namin.

Isang buwan na din akong home workout ngayon pero kahit papano kaya naman i-maintain ng weighted push ups at pull ups. Hindi din advisable sakin mag calorie deficit lalo na at walang training na maayos. Kaya calorie maintenance para ma preserve kahit papano ang pinaghirapan hehe. On point din ang macro nutrition.

ExpandirFonte:

thatbrownsolution

#fitness

#asian

23 notas

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

Seguir

gotta-be-skinny-for-me.tumblr.com/

//

Fonte:

gotta-be-skinny-for-me

#skinny

#fit

#fitness

#healthy

#fitspo

31 notas

fitaleeex

Seguir

Tagged by @one-day-at-a-time365 !! ❤️ it’s only 3pm, but I’m working until 10pm from home so basically my day is over 😂 but this morning I woke up early and went for a walk by the ocean with my boyfriend. We went for a nice drive as well. Got Starbucks. I recently got a meal plan and workout plan made for me so I did my first workout from that. I played a little bit of animal crossing and then started work!

I feel like today was relatively productive. It was nice getting exercise early in the morning, especially because my walk was beside the ocean 😌

I nominate @callmenic0 and @suvisfitness !

What have you been up to today? 💕

Expandir

#sds

#me

#health

#fitness

#motivation

#fitspo

#ocean

13 notas

dailyfitnessgirls

Seguir

#fitness

#workout

#bodybuilding

#gym

#girlswithmuscle

161 notas

regularninjafit

Seguir

IG taneth.fit

Sexy and Fit

#taneth.fit

#fitness

57 notas

majesticfit

Seguir

#cute boys

#fitness

#beach

28 notas

transboyz

Seguir

here's a fun thing i do every morning before i shower, i find it really helps my dysphoria

I stretch, and do a couple yoga poses like the downward dog, the cat and the side plank. Then I do some weightlifting. Currently 1kg an arm, doing 120 reps each arm. Then I do around 50 sit-ups. After that I'll shower, get dressed, and put leg weights on which I walk around in for about half an hour.

I really feel like it's really helping me get more muscley, even more so on testosterone. Knowing I have that muscle and feeling it makes me feel way more masc and as though I pass as male. It affirms this in my head. Then I feel really good about myself for the whole day :-)

#workout

#advice

#fitness

#dysphoria

#trans man

#trans boy

#transition

#trans

#transgender

#trans guy

#trans ftm

#ftm hrt

#ftm transman

#ftm

#trans masc

#trans mlm

#trans male

#trans lgbt

#lgbt

#lgbtq

#lgbtqa

… Ver todas

72 notas

[shannonisawitch]

I Know That It’s Love

Sonia x MC

Sleep continues to evade Sonia as she tosses and turns. The dark of night sits heavy around her, the silence making her antsy. Perhaps it was the fact that she actually had time to sleep now, with the Monaco job over and done with (thank God), that she didn't know how to actually fall asleep unless she was utterly exhausted. Whatever it was, this was the third night in a row that she found sleeping impossible, and she grit her teeth in annoyance. It didn't help that three days ago, she had talked to Gwen on the phone. Her stomach had done somersaults, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird. Gwen, of course, had teased her, given nothing away to her location, and openly flirted. Sonia was all business at first, but her resolve had quickly faded when she realized that she liked the banter between she and Gwen. However, she didn't get a chance to act on it because Gwen had ended the call. So perhaps that was the true reason to her not being able to sleep.

With a huff, Sonia buried her face in her pillow, cursing her feelings. She chanced a glance at the clock, groaning. 3:15am. She'd been trying to sleep for over four hours now.

A rapid knock on her front door near made her jump out of her skin, and she cursed as she eased out of bed. Who the hell was knocking at 3:15am?! Probably Ms. Drew again from down the hall, looking for her cat. Just in case, she tucked her Glock in the small of her back. Reaching the door, she looked through the peephole, and had to rub at her eyes to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Gwen stood in the hall, a bottle of rosé and a box of cereal under one arm and a disgruntled cat under the other.

"What in the hell are you doing here?!" Sonia near shouted, throwing the door open.

"Shh, you'll wake your neighbors! But gosh, not even a hello for your dearly beloved?"

"Just shut up and get in here."

"Very forward of you," Gwen purred, brushing her arm against Sonia's as she entered the small apartment.

"Gwen, give me one good reason not to arrest you right now."

"Oh, please. You have no evidence to prove I'm guilty." Gwen shot her a smirk as she set the rosé and cereal down on the kitchen island, snuggling the cat against her. "And you invited me into your apartment. So, no forced entry or trespassing, I'm afraid."

"...Fine. But why are you here?"

"Well, I wanted to see you." There was nothing but pure love behind those words, and Sonia stood stunned for just a moment.

"Gwen..."

"Oh, come on, babe, I know you feel it too. Or else we wouldn't have had all those run-ins in Monaco. I know there's a part of you that knew it was me under that mask, and you still kissed me. Not to mention, getting handcuffed in the hallway..." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at this, and Sonia rolled her eyes.

"You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Mmm maybe just a little. I had every intention of coming here sober but, um, I got wine." Gwen moved across the room to the couch, sprawling herself across it, the cat balancing on her chest. She wondered if it was the same cat that Ms. Drew was always looking for.

"And why do you have a cat? Did you steal it?!"

"I don't steal everything ya know, I'm actually an outstanding citizen, outside of stealing from the rich to give to the poor."

"The Robin Hood act is honorable, but you're still a criminal."

"A gorgeous criminal with a huge crush on a super-hot policewoman."

Sonia could feel the heat creep up her cheeks. "Gwen, you need to go. You shouldn't be here."

"And you're just going to kick me out? A drunk girl in the middle of...what country are we in again? Anyways, that doesn't seem responsible."

"Oh, don't get me started on responsible!"

“Ugh. Eat some cereal with me? I need to eat something.”

Sonia just glared at her but moved to the small fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. Opening the cereal box, she poured the cereal into a bowl before adding the milk.

“Thank God.” Gwen was suddenly looking over her shoulder.

“What?”

“You poured the cereal and then the milk. Proves you’re not a monster.”

“Good, I’m glad I’m not a monster.”

“Far from it, sweet cheeks.” Gwen grabbed her bowl, and sat at the small dining table, Sonia removing her gun and leaving it on the counter, coming to sit across from her. The cat jumped onto the table, watching them intently.

“Were you going to shoot me?!”

“You knocked on my door at 3 in the morning. I wasn’t taking a risk,” Sonia replied, raising an eyebrow as she smirked.

“Fair enough.”

“Seriously Gwen, where did this cat come from?”

“Don’t tell me you’re not an animal person.”

“Gwen.”

“Ok, ok, he was sitting outside your door. Thought he was yours.”

“Really?”

Gwen just shrugged, slurping the milk from her bowl. Sonia sat silent, wondering how she got herself into this predicament. Eating cereal with a drunk thief that she was totally in love with and a cat that was definitely not hers at 3:30 in the morning was not how she thought her Thursday would go. And Gwen was right, she has no authority or evidence to arrest her.

“You look cute when you’re pondering life’s difficulties.”

Sonia blushed again, but said nothing, watching the other woman. Her heart fluttered, and Sonia wanted to punch something.

“I think we should let the cat out so he can go home,” Gwen finally said, rising to pick up the orange tabby. “Sorry buddy, but you can’t live here.”

“Yeah, good idea.” Sonia couldn’t help a giggle as Gwen lifted the cat, his eyes alight with protest.

Sonia stood and opened the front door, Gwen kneeling beside her. “On you go! Go home!”

The cat jogged down the hall, looking over its shoulder one last time before rounding the corner.

“I’m going to miss him,” Gwen mumbled as Sonia shut the door.

“You knew him for all of ten minutes.”

“And we became best friends.”

“I think you should get some sleep. Do you want me to call you a Lyft?”

“Hmm. Can’t remember where I was staying. Guess that means I gotta stay here.” Gwen batted her eyelashes, moving into Sonia’s personal space.

“You can have the couch.” Sonia took a step back and turned back towards the living room. Gwen openly pouted as she followed behind her. Sonia grabbed blankets and a pillow from the hall, tossing them on the couch. “In the morning, I’ll get you a Lyft. Goodnight, Gwen.”

“Sonia…” Gwen looked at her longingly, her green eyes sparkling.

“Goodnight.” Without another glance, Sonia turned and damn near ran to her room, shutting the door behind her. Why did this woman continue to put her into these situations?! Sonia tossed herself onto the bed. She was definitely not getting any sleep now.

 --------------

Gwen woke with an intense pounding in her head, and wondered if she’d recently suffered a concussion, or maybe been hit by a truck. Cracking her eyes open, she winced at the bright light of morning creeping in through the blinds. Groaning, she rolled over and sat up, opening her eyes again. Wait…where the fuck was she?! She panicked for a split second, then flashes of last night came back to her. She groaned again, her head in her hands.

“Fuck.”

Rising from the couch, she made quick work of folding the blankets before searching for her phone. It was on the counter, next to an open bottle of rosé and a box of Fruity Pebbles.

“At least I brought decent cereal,” she mumbled, checking the time on her phone. She considered her options. Leave without a word, pretend it never happened? No, that wasn’t like her. Wait till Sonia woke up? What time did she wake up? It was only 6:45am. Maybe she’d leave her a note. Yes, a note with her number on it, so they could at least talk. Gwen was sure she’d…said some things last night that sober her would regret.

Scouring the kitchen and living room, she found a pad of paper, tape, and a nice fountain pen (Sonia, you pen nerd).

Sonia,

I’m so sorry I was a complete ass last night. Please understand that this is not how I wanted this to go, at all. I want to talk to you, I want to see you. You mean a lot to me, and I want to get to know you. No ulterior motives, no guns, no tricks. I promise. If you can accept my most sincere apology, call me.

Yours,

Gwen

Gwen scribbled in her number, breaking off a piece of tape and sticking it to the paper. Moving down the hall, she stopped before the only closed door. Her heart beat quickened, her palms suddenly sweaty. She, the over confident thief that had talked herself out of bad situations, avoided bullets more times than she thought necessary, jumped out of moving vehicles, and stolen millions upon millions in jewels, money, and intel, was nervous. She gulped, lifting her hand to stick the note to the door, when it suddenly flew open. Sonia looked like a deer in headlights, her eyes wide, mouth parted in surprise.

“Gwen.”

“Sonia.”

They awkwardly stood there, waiting for one another to make a move.

“Right, um, about last night, I’m so, so sorry, I was an ass and-”

“No, stop, it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not! You deserve my whole attention, my complete sober attention. I’m pretty sure drunk me is a different person.”

“Actually, I think you’re much alike. She just has no filter. I mean, you don’t have a filter most of the time, but drunk you is worse.”

Gwen laughs at this, ducking her head to hide her blush.

“So…are you going to leave?”

“Um yeah, I was going to get going. I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

“Much too late for that, no?” Sonia smirks, a perfect brow arching, and Gwen just wants to kiss her. But instead, she lifts her chin, looking Sonia in the eyes.

“Well, I’ll just be off then.”

“Gwen, wait,” Sonia reaches out, grabbing her arm just as she turns. “Maybe we should talk. Come on.”

“Ok.” The touch sends a jolt through her, and Gwen dumbfoundedly thinks that she’d follow this woman anywhere. They move into the kitchen, where Sonia busies herself with making coffee.

“So. Why’d you come? At least, why were you planning to see me before you got drunk?”

Gwen adverts her eyes guiltily, moving to lean against the counter. “I really did want to see you. These last few months apart have been…well, quite frankly, they’ve been hell. I kept thinking about ways to see you, without you attempting to arrest me or you just slapping me across the face. I deserve both, I guess.”

Sonia just gives her a ‘yeah you do’ smile, before turning back to the coffee machine.

“I’ve always been upfront with my feelings, I’m not one to hide. But with you, I’m at a complete loss. You’re stunningly beautiful, and you know what you want out of life, and you are great at your job, and you do things for the greater good, and gosh, if I think I don’t deserve you, then I’m damn right. You’re everything I could never be, and I’m afraid I’d never give you love like you deserve. That is, if you’d ever let me, of course.”

Sonia stops what she’s doing, frozen by her words. She was not expecting this much truth to just spill out.

“Gwen…”

“I know I’m a thief, a criminal, but I really do only want to do good. And I know you’ll probably never feel the same way about me, and that’s ok, but I just had to tell you.”

Sonia turns towards her then, her dark eyes cloudy with emotion. Gwen swallows the lump that’s built in her throat, her eyes suddenly watery as well.

“Sonia, I think I love you. And I think you feel the same.”

“How could you know?” It’s just a whisper, but it sends an inkling of dread down Gwen’s spine, her whole body tingling with distress.

“After everything we’ve been through…I just figured, with how you reacted when we’d touch and the feel of your lips, and God, the time you handcuffed me in the hallway at the palace-”

"Gwen, just stop.” Sonia puts up a hand, and Gwen draws in a breath. “I know that it's love, 'cause it hurts. It hurts when I know I can’t talk to you, can’t see you. It hurt when we had to part ways in Monaco because you’re the thief and I’m the cop. It hurts like no other because I knew that no matter what, we’d never be anything more than rivals. How would it work, Gwen? God, it hurts.”

“But it doesn't have to.” Gwen is standing before Sonia in an instant. “It could work. It’s going to take some change and some getting used to, but believe me, there’s no one else in the world I’d want.”

“How could you be so sure that it’d workout between us?”

“Because I know that once you set your mind on something, there’s nothing that can stand in your way. I know that you’re the hardest worker in the room, and you fight for what you believe in. And, quite frankly, I’m much the same. Just not so up-tight about it.”

Sonia swats at her arm but smiles.

“You’re an ass. But you’re right. I love you, Gwen.” Sonia wipes at her teary eyes, relief spreading over her.

“I love you, Sonia.” Gwen closes the short distance between them, sealing their lips together in a silent promise.

They break apart, Sonia resting her forehead against Gwen’s. “I’m glad you showed up drunk to my house last night.”

“That’s not what I was expecting to hear, but I’m glad I did too. Thank you, drunk me.”

Sonia laughs and pulls her in for another kiss. Gwen melts against her, the heat building around them as the kiss grows more feverish. Her hands wander into the sable black tresses of Sonia’s hair, Sonia’s lithe arms snaking around her waist, pulling her flush against her.

“Bedroom?” Sonia asks against her lips, breathless.

“Bedroom,” Gwen whispers into the corner of her mouth, her tongue sweeping over Sonia’s bottom lip.

 ----------------

This time when Gwen wakes up, it’s not because of a pounding headache or blinded by the glaring light of the sun, but instead the tickle of hair against her cheek. She opens her eyes slowly, drinking in the sight of Sonia bathed in a golden glow, tucked against her, a tangled mess of arms and legs. Dark umber eyes meet hers, and she smiles, tracing a finger along Sonia’s jaw.

“Good morning, my love.” The term rolls off Sonia’s tongue, and Gwen’s smile widens.

“Good morning, indeed. Although, I’m guessing it’s more towards afternoon now.”

“Yeah, a little after 1.”

“And we’re still in bed, how scandalous.”

Sonia chuckles, running a hand through Gwen’s hair. “I found your note. Were you really just going to stick it on my door and leave?”

“Maybe?”

“Was the fearless thief Gwen Hargraves afraid to face her feelings?”

“Oh, shut up.” Gwen pinches her thigh and Sonia squeals, pushing her away, laughing.

“Maybe we should get out of bed,” Sonia says after a moment, moving to wrap her arms around Gwen again.

“Mmm, but it’s so comfy.” Gwen leans in and kisses her slowly. “Though, I am hungry.”

“How’s the hangover?”

“Better. It reminded me why I stopped drinking after I turned 25. I’m afraid the next hangover will kill me.”

Sonia laughs as she untangles herself and rises from the bed.  “Come on then, let’s go eat. There’s a great French bistro down the street.”

Gwen smiles at how domestic it all sounds. This relationship was new and unexplored territory, but they’d make it work. Gwen had just pulled one of the biggest heists in history, and had been so sure in her plan, her team. She had that same feeling right now, a feeling of complete confidence, watching Sonia get dressed, a smile on her lips. Even better, she had the feeling of undivided love, which was so overwhelming, that she felt it would consume her whole. Yes, they’d make it work, nothing could drive them apart now.

#if you need me i'll be in a trash can #sonia x mc #mc x sonia #sonia #thm sonia #the heist monaco #the heist: monaco #choices #choices stories you play #thm #shan writes fic #wlw

[cmarionthewilkid-blog]

C.O.N.S.U.M.E.D

What happens when we consume more than we need? What happens when our choices are influenced by societal pressures of how things should be? Part 1 of my reflective journal will aim to provide a glimpse at two weeks of a working mom, head of a house of five, who also coincidentally adds event planner often to her job tasks. 

Day 1: I specifically started my consumption journal on Friday, October 25. The day before a large case competition I was hosting on campus. Day 1 starts like most every other day of my life. The 20 minute drive to daycare, followed by the usual ice cap pit stop at Tim Horton’s. This day is special though, with the pressures of ensuring everything was just right for our judges and sponsors. I stroll off to Ferme Beaulieu to spend $328 on gifts. I am thinking that at least I am buying local products (honey, herbs, ketchup aux fruits) and feel pretty great about that. But why do I feel obliged to buy gifts at all? Wouldn’t a sincere thank you be enough? I guess according to Jonathan Porritt (2011), I have fallen victim to consumerism at its best. Somehow, I feel OK about it though. 

 A quick stop at Dollarama for gift bags, disposable coffee cups (cringe!), and plastic plastic trays. Finally, a $148 trip to Provigo for snacks for the case competitors and coaches. Oops, did I mention the trip to the t-shirt printer to pick up the 60 red printed competition momentos. Let’s add the 250+ pages I printed that day! As I sit here and reflect on the necessities (needs) of running a case competition versus expectations (and wants), I come to the realization that most of what I have purchased is simply there to enhance image. 

Day 2 (October 26): Tim’s ice cap (check!). 60 Donuts, 60 pre-packed lunches, 24 cans of Perrier, 60 cans of soft drinks, 40 coffees in disposable cups, 100 plastic glasses of wine. Today, I am completely influenced by materialism and keeping the “image”. Let’s keep in mind that I work for a business school and that comes with some rather large assumptions around how things are supposed to look and be. Not to mention, I am hosting five people from the company who is sponsoring the event, so I need to keep them happy and ensure the event lives up to their expectations. I am reminded of Amitai Etzioni, (2012) and his sentiments about “keeping up with the Jones’”. It is true, when one party sets a certain expectation, we all rise to meet, or better, exceed them.

Today; however, my biggest disappointment was food waste. The boxed lunches were good, but about 25% of people didn’t eat all their meal. Almost 100% of the people didn’t eat the dessert included. We don’t have access to compost, so it went to the trash. Above the clear environmental impact of my event, I am reminded of the fact that one fifth of the world’s richest people consume 45% of all the meat and fish (Shah, 2014). Despite the company providing compostable cutlery and cups, I feel guilty that I sent so many things to the landfill today. To top it all off, Sodexo served a less than stellar menu at the Gala dinner (veal sous-vide). I swear I wanted to eat it, but alas, two bites in and I am done. More to the trash. Exhausted and mentally drained, I wonder to myself where the balance between convenience and waste needs to come into play. Why can’t we have compost stations on campus?

Day 3 (October 27): But first, my ice cap! A friend’s child’s birthday party today so I scramble to get things together. I run to Provigo to grab stuff for mini pizzas to share (forgot my grocery bags, so plastic it is). My friend insisted on no gifts at the party, which I wanted to accept, but quite frankly couldn’t. I’m glad I didn’t because apparently no one else respected it either. I think about this social obligation more deeply (Goodwin, Smith, & Spiggle, 1990). I try my best to make a compromise, we opt for a movie day among friends instead of a traditional gift. I am hoping this small intrinsically motivated action may decrease future landfill waste in the future. Nonetheless, we are filled with waxed juice cups and plates. Back to the Provigo to grab something for the family for supper. I grab peppers in a plastic bag, sausages in a styrofoam package, pasta sauce in a glass bottle, cheese in plastic packaging and pasta in a cardboard box. Nothing much to compost or recycle unfortunately. 

Day 4 (October 28): Monday and back to work. Ice cap, yup! I am starting to get quite the collection in my office recycling bin. My boss just commented on it. I guess it is a bit of an eye sore..haha! 

Two trips to Provigo today. One at lunch to grab George’s bread, deli ham, Coaticook cheese, carrots and dip. Next stop on the way home from work for supper, chicken, baby potatoes and stuffing. 

Day 5 (October 29): If you haven’t guessed by now, ice cap time! Today, my brother (who lives with us) did a fridge clean up. Sigh! I can’t believe how much stuff we threw away. Past date, wilted vegetables, moldy fruits. Why don’t I just throw money directly into the garbage can? Is it normal that the first thing I think about is wasted money? According to a study  by Graham-Rowe, Jessop, and Sparks (2014),  wasting money is indeed a major motivator to minimize food waste. Inspired by this revelation, I am determined to have leftovers for lunch and transform the chicken salad sandwiches tonight for supper. I don’t even have to stop at Provigo today! WOW!

Day 6 (October 30): IC (that’s all I will say). Wednesdays are always tricky because I am running around and teach a class at night. It is one of those days. I grab lunch at Subway (steak sub, chips and a drink) -> garbage.

Run to Provigo after work and grab steak, carrots, potatoes and gravy from Provigo and throw it in pot to cook. I also realize that I haven’t really bought any candy for Halloween for my students in case class. $65.30 later and we have meat and candies! I’ve also been putting out chocolates outside my office door for students. 

Day 7 (October 31): Another ice cap to go please. I don’t even eat lunch today. Now I realize we have no candy for the kids. Drive to Walmart and $68.03, we’ve got goodies. No lunch again, and we go to a friend’s for supper. Off with the 4 year old trick or treating in the rain. She gets a pail of treats, we have 2 boxes of stuff leftover.

Day 8 (November 1): Day of the dead? I think so! Actually order breakfast with my ice cap at Timmy’s this morning. No lunch today. We decide to go shopping after work today as my brother has a 40% discount at L’Equipeur. $218.58 later, my husband enjoys new shoes, jeans, sport jacket, t-shirts, and a pair of sneakers for my mom for Christmas. Oh wait! Marlee needs new winter boots, so $86.22 later, we have new winter boots for her. I also see the cutest dress boots at Marshall’s (fake baby Uggs). I suppose these is what the marketers are hoping for. Top it all off with super for the family at Guido’s. (Wow! I have really been eating like crap!) Day 8 hurt the bank account!  Day 9 (November 2): Maybe I should actually buy some groceries for my empty fridge. I sludge off to Provigo early Saturday morning to spent near $200. At least I have meat, veggies, fruits, and some of the other basics for my family to actually live on. Stop at Tim’s on the way home for the usual. 

Day 10 (November 3): Beautiful breakfast with family (and an ice cap). Spent the day making food (soup, roasted chicken, pasta sauce, etc....). Trying to cut down on the restaurant stops this week. End up at the library with some dear colleagues from GSE503, so I think another ice cap is in order to stay awake (and leftover Halloween Candy). 

Day 11 (November 4): Check that thought. Day went to hell, running late, dead tired, no breakfast, grabbed Rima for supper. Fridge full, but I don’t even care at this point. 

Day 12 (November 5): Today is a new day! I started making iced coffee at home! No Tim’s! I actually did not spend $1 today! Why do I feel so great? Apparently it is something referred to as perceived consumer effectiveness (PCE). When is comes to sustainable buying practices, this PCE is influenced directly by guilt and pride. This becomes important because it means that as a consumer,  my behaviours could be modified by using emotions (Antonetti, & Maklan, 2014).

Day 13 (November 6): Another no spending kind of day! Feeling all pride and no guilt! Maybe Atonetti and Maklan are on to something!

Day 14 (November 7): Last day of recording! No ice caps and going strong.  My husband and I are feeling like we need a little extra family time, so we go out for supper at Mike’s with Marlee. We follow it up by a little Chocolat Favoris. I asked myself why we went to Mike’s again? What a waste!   A quick stop by Provigo to grab snacks for my basketball girls. I make an orzo salad plus pull together fruits, yogurt, cheese and granola bars.

Stay tuned for Part 2 to see if I actually made some changes and what this whole process has meant for me. Until then, I leave you on this note: Waiting on the World to Change

REFERENCES

Antonetti, P., & Maklan, S. (2014). Feelings that make a difference: How guilt and pride convince consumers of the effectiveness of sustainable consumption choices. Journal of Business Ethics, 124(1), 117-134. Retrieved from www.jstor.org/stable/24033218

Etzioni, A. (2012). You Don’t need to Buy This. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/FN3z8gtDUFE

Goodwin, C., Smith, K.L., & Spiggle, S. (1990). Gift giving: Consumer motivation and the gift purchase process. In NA - Advances in Consumer Research. 17, eds. Marvin E. Goldberg, Gerald Gorn, and Richard W. Pollay, Provo, UT : Association for Consumer Research, 690-698. Retrieved from http://acrwebsite.org/volumes/7086/volumes/v17/NA-17

Graham-Rowe, E., Jessop, D.C., & Sparks, P. (2014). Identifying motivations and barriers to minimising household food wasteby. Resources, Conservation & Recycling, 84, 15-23. doi: 10.1016/j.resconrec.2013.12.005

Porritt, J. (2011). The trap of materialism. Retrieved from https://youtu.be/DtwXryPNciM

Shah, A. (2014). Consumption and Consumerism: Global Issues. Retrieved from http://www.globalissues.org/issue/235/consumption-and-consumerism