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subwaysurf45 · 3 years

Text

Love You to the Moon and Back

summary: Bucky notices you’re feeling down after a bad injury, he does his best to help.

words: 3817

warning: depressive episode, doctors, mainly fluff!

pairing: Bucky x Reader

Masterlist!

Bucky could tell you were getting bad again.

And it hurt him to see you like this but it always happened after a big mission, your job was traumatizing and it took a toll on all of you. Bucky knew he had his days but he also knew when you finally let yourself slip it was really bad.

You were a very headstrong person, you didn’t like letting people see your weaknesses or just you being hurt in general. So it sucked when you had broken your shin and witnessed a school of kids get blown up by a bomb, maybe sucked is an understatement but it was what you always said.

You had pretended to be a teacher because there was supposed to be a hit on most teachers at a private school, so when the school blew up before everyone was out of the building- including you -it left the memories very crystal clear. There was no way of saving everyone so you saved yourself, and the feeling of selfishness had never been more apparent than right now. You were lying in bed with a cast on your left leg, your left leg was on top of the duvet while the other leg was under.

A tank top and shorts was all you wore even though you were cold. A pillow was placed between your legs down by your shins to keep the injured one elevated, Bucky had stuck it there the last time he came in to check on you.

Speaking of Bucky, he walked into your shared room in the compound.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bucky cooed as he gently opened and closed the door without making any sound, you had become hyper-aware to sound and light so a loud noise or a flash of a camera could send you into a state of hysterics. Bucky sat himself at the edge of the bed at around your midsection, you were lying in the middle and facing him. You barely said hello, all you could muster was a groan that had the same rhythm as the word hello. “How’s my girl doing?” Bucky rubbed your thigh very carefully.

It was so obviously a rhetorical question, you were absolutely shit and he knew it. You both just stared at each other and Bucky seemed to get the message, he nodded and looked down. The room was so dark from the lights being off and the curtains being pulled you barely registered that Bucky had a plate of cheese, apple slices, and crackers. Bucky saw you turn your nose up and he knew you would, you had been like this for what felt like weeks.

“You have your two appointments today, you wanna use the crutches or the wheelchair?” Bucky asked as he gently caressed your thigh, a little hum came after a few sections to clarify this wasn’t rhetorical.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled into your pillow.

“Okay…” Bucky held onto the last syllable, he glanced over to the wheelchair and crutches. “How about you have a little snack and then when you got food- and I’ll get water -you can make your choice. You also know you can switch and I’ll be glad to grab it for you, alright?” he did a few quick pats on your thigh before setting the plate down on the bedside table, he grunted as he stood up and stuck his arms slowly beneath you. All Bucky did was sit you upright to eat, you had gotten better at eating and now didn’t need motivation to eat but just a little push at the beginning to keep going after the first bite. Bucky also found if he ate a few pieces from the plate you’d be more inclined to eat the rest.

“Thanks,” your voice was low and barely audible.

“No need, pretty lady,” Bucky got right beside you and grabbed the plate, he placed it between you and let you choose the first piece. “So, you’re at the doctor at two and then Doc at three-ten, do you wanna nap between for a little or for a while after?” he just took a cracker and plopped it into his mouth.

“No, no nap between, I wanna sit outside Doc’s office like before to make sure I’m not late.” You mumbled and stacked a piece of cheese on an apple slice. Doc was your therapist that was assigned to you a little while before your injury, Bucky wasn’t the only one who got nightmares and manic episodes; you probably got them more. Bucky knew he couldn’t go into your therapy meeting, he could physically go in but it went against his morals, this was your time to be alone and completely vulnerable to a human that you only see one or twice a week, he didn’t want you to sugar coat anything just because he wa sitting there.

Bucky nodded and hummed before pulling the notebook out of the bedside table’s drawer, your combat backpack which you used for everything between missions and a picnic in the park was curled over itself in the corner of your room. Bucky picked it up and headed back to bed to let it rest there as he packed. He did this when you weren’t injured, Bucky had sadly realized your memory was a little shot from the amount of bootleg brainwashing and head injuries. You’d constantly forget about appointments or missions, or even the date.

“Baby, I told you, your birthday is today, that’s why I got flowers.” Bucky said and pointed to the counter with the bright flowers on it.

“No…” you rubbed the front of your head. “My birthday isn’t today, I forget the day- but it’s not today, I swear.”

He slid in your journal that you used to write down lists and memories, you had used a guitar pick as your bookmark even though you can’t play anymore. Sometimes when you’d show up to a therapy session you’d forget what you wanted to say, it hurt him when he’d walk you there and you’d be saying the list of things under your breath with your eyes closed. Nightmare, mom, picking my nails, ankle, nightmare, sand, flowers.

“We gotta go soon, anyways, wanna get ready for the day?” Bucky softly asked, there was no nice way of telling your loved one they needed to shower.

“Sure,” you looked down at the plate and grabbed the last of it before getting up, the apple and cheese was just curled in the palm of your hand, as you walked over you shoved it all into your mouth because you knew you had to shower and you didn’t like soggy cheese.

“I’ll keep packing your bag, and I’ll fill a water bottle for you.” Bucky had been your human crutch as you walked to the bathroom, you had an itch down in your cast that was bugging you.

Tony had wanted to add tech to the shower to help you stand because putting pressure on your left leg hurt after three minutes and seven seconds- not that you were timing to see how long you could go without collapsing. You had said no to tech and just asked for a bar, Bucky even thought it would be cool but it was all up to you.

Bucky helped you slip out of your clothes before leaving you be, he knew he would have to check on you periodically because you were too stubborn to ask for help if you had fallen or couldn’t get in the shower. You gripped onto the metal bar and helped yourself slip in, you turned the water on right away.

You liked warm, long showers. You just let the water hit your skin as you stood in front of the shower head, the water pressure was high so you let the bullets hit your face when your eyes were closed. Your hair got wet as you stood there, you reached for the bottle of shampoo and expected it to be where it always was. The was getting into your eyes and when you squinted to see where the bottle was everything was double, as you reached for the bottle you had actually reached for the fake double and knocked the bottle off the ledge. A loud thump rang through the bathroom and it sounded like a bomb.

There was one second of silence before you heard scrambling from outside the bathroom door, all at once you could see the door swing open by its shadow through the curtain. The curtain was pulled back so hard a couple of ringlets holding it up were ripped off.

“Baby?” Bucky yelled before he registered you were standing upright. “What?” he breathed heavily, he was completely expecting you to be passed out on the floor with a cracked skull.

“Shampoo bottle,” you said meekly.

“Oh, thank god…” Bucky sighed to himself as he reached down to pick it up. “Are you hurt at all, did you fall?” He placed the bottle back on the ledge which made him reach across your naked body, on his way back his hand touched your shoulder then went to cup your cheek and move your head to look at him.

“I’m all good, babe.” You smiled, an exhausting smile.

“Alright, back-is-packed, finish up and I'll help you over to physio, alright?” Bucky closed the curtain to give privacy but waited for a verbal answer.

“Perfect, thank you.” You grabbed the bottle again, your heart ached for him to be in the shower with you, it was something you did all the time before you were injured.

“Don’t thank me, pretty lady.” Bucky reached for the door and opened it, before he could walk out, your voice quietly called his name, he could barely hear it over the water in the shower. “Yes?” he replied with the same softness.

“Stay here with me, please.” the ‘please’ came after a beat, and extra plea.

“Always,” Bucky sat on the toilet seat and gave the company you needed as you tried to stick your finger down your cast to itch that one spot on your leg.

*****

Soon enough you were sat in the physio room, Bucky was off to the side with paper work in his lap and a binder in your backpack he packed for you. You liked the moral support when you were here because you never really had the best experience with doctors, Bucky would act like he wasn’t even there. That was a good thing, he did need to be the hovering boyfriend all the time because that can get tiring for both parties. He’d look up and listen to the doctor near the end, Bucky would write down the exercises and when to do them so he could gently remind you later.

“Alright, you’re gonna get a new cast next week,” the doctor smiled at you, when you didn’t pick up on the excitement the doctor’s smile faded. “That means three quarters done!” Bucky had looked up and smiled, even clapped a couple times.

“Then I have to learn how to walk again,” that was an exaggeration but it didn’t feel like one.

The doctor gave a knowing look, “why do I feel like you’re already walking without the crutches?” You didn’t say anything because it was true.

Your leg was examined and x-rayed, Bucky held onto your necklace as you went in. Your mind faded in and out as the doctor spewed ‘doctor stuff’ at you, you just didn’t have the care to listen; but Bucky did. He’s the type of guy to take notes and research later.

Bucky would look over and see you looking at the floor, not even paying attention. He knew he couldn't get mad at you, you both dealt with injury very similarly. But something about seeing you shut down entirely made his heart ache, he wanted to reach out and lift the corners of your lips up into a smile because they seemed like they were being weighed down, he couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and real smile. He hadn’t been going on mission to keep you company, but now he knew his most important mission.

He walked you over to your therapy session that was still in the building, your Doc would come to the Avenger tower. He’d walk you right to the door of some random debrief room and kiss you goodbye. Bucky would hold your shoulders and gently rub your arms to hype you up before going in, he gave his little speech and said the same thing after.

“You know I love you, and I know it’s hard.” he’d then kiss your cheeks and forehead. “I’ll be right here when you’re done, don’t even sweat it, pretty lady.” He then wouldn’t leave until the door closed and he heard muffled voices.

The tower was right in the heart of the city, everything he needed was right there and a walking distance away. He slipped on a long sleeve and his gloves, he knew you took the backpack but you also had reusable bags, he took a few and headed out into the summer heat, it wasn’t humid today which was great but it wasn’t cold either. The tote bag was slung over his shoulder, all that was in it right now as a list.

flowers

chocolate

card

stuffed animal

To call Bucky a romantic would seem weird to someone who only knew of him from the news or a museum, you knew him as a total hopeless romantic. Even in the 40’s, Bucky was the type of person to keep their walls up until he really got to know and trust you. It would normally be one little thing that would allow him to truly be himself around someone, he let his guard down that day you were walking to the restaurant he made a reservation at, Bucky placed himself so that arm or hand you’d hold would be his right but when you caught on you walk around him and looped both arms around his left, metal arm. After that, he was goner.

He’d leave little sticky notes everywhere, a blue square paper in the coffee mug that read: ‘make sure you only drink one cup!’ or another on your shampoo bottle: ‘you look great naked ;)’. Bucky knew the little things mattered to you and vice versa, he knew that grand gestures didn’t mean anything without a little kiss that came before.

The flower shop smelt great, Bucky didn’t know much about plants but he knew which ones you’d like. He was thinking of putting one on each bedside so whenever you’re lying in bed- which was a lot -you could look at some pretty flowers. They were a nice shade of purple and the stems were not too long, Bucky bought them and put them gently in his tote bag before heading over two stores to the grocery store you always shop at.

He was envyus of your clean eating, you’d eat what you want but you’d shop at fermer’s markets and organic stores. Bucky didn’t know it made a difference. He went to the frozen section and found chocolate covered strawberries. Bucky picked up a little pack of eight and headed to the front. There were also flowers there but they didn’t look nearly as nice. All he wanted was a very simple cute card with a blank inside, they were easy to find. It was cream coloured with a little sketch of a fuzzy, brown teddy bear holding a yellow balloon. All it said in dainty cursive at the top was: “look at you go!” Bucky knew this was perfect. Near the cards were little toys and stuffed animals. He found a bear that looked eerily similar to the one on the card but without the balloon.

As he walked into the Avenger’s tower the bag was full and he had enough time to spare to set things up. Bucky headed to the rooms and made the bed, he changed the sheets as well because he knew you liked them when they were crisp. The teddy sat right in the middle with the card next to it. Bucky had written a little note that covered the entire right side of the card. He got a bowl from the kitchen and filled it with ice, he also found that white wine you liked and stuck it on there with the strawberries just to keep them cool but not melted.

Bucky glanced at his watch and felt almost giddy as he realized it was time to head over to the conference room, he had to work on not giving it away when he’d first see you with his wide smile. The walk to the room was quick because of how fast Bucky was walking, he turned the corners sharp and almost jogged down the hall down the meeting rooms. He only stood there for about three seconds before the door slowly opened, Doc had opened the door and helped you out. Bucky’s smile turned into complete worry when you walked out holding a tissue to your nose, your eyes were red and puffy. Bucky also noticed that your fingernails were red and bleeding, that was one habit you were currently trying to break.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked in quiet disbelief, his eyebrows almost touching.

Doc gave a curt nod, “we talked about a lot of things,” her answers were always so vague.

You sniffled and waited for Doc to leave down the hall, Bucky was still looking at you. His hands held your shoulders and gently massaged the answer out of you.

“It was a good cry, I needed that.” you sighed from exhaustion.

A little piece of Bucky’s heart broke, if you needed to have a good cry then you could have told him, he would’ve listened. Bucky started to go back and see where it went wrong, if he was too overbearing and if this whole afternoon he had planned was created at a very wrong time. He wanted to ask what he did wrong but what came out was different. “Well that’s good to hear, I know Doc is good at that- helping you out.” His words were true but something about the delivery made it seem uneasy.

“I just-” you looked to the ceiling and hoped to find the words you needed written there. “I like flushing it all out to her because I won’t see her for a week and I don’t need to keep up with what I’m feeling. I always cry to you but Doc is just really good at explaining how I feel, you’re there to validate it and make me feel soothed.” You held his left hand as you both walked down the hallway. “I feel lighter, like, I feel better.”

“That’s always good, sweetheart,” Bucky made sure you were putting weight on him because you didn’t bring your crutches but you really should have. “I have a little treat for you,” He turned to face you when you both stood at his door, Bucky kept his hand on the door handle. “I know it’s been a rough few weeks but I hope you know I love you all the same, and all I see is my strong, beautiful girlfriend.” Bucky saw your confused face, as he opened the door to reveal a dim lit room with flowers, wine and a teddy your eye welled up with tears again.

You gasped and put your hands on your chest, “for me?” your voice shook as you walked in, you peered into the ice bucket to see your favourite wine and some food as well as a card beside the ice bucket, under the teddy. Tears flowed down your face as the feeling of being overwhelmed washed over you, you could barely string a sentence together. A hand waved the gifts all away, “too much,” was all you could muster.

“No, baby,” Bucky smiled, he walked over and pulled you into a hug. “Nothing will ever be too much for you.”

He let you cry in his chest for a very long time, you both ended up sitting on the edge of the bed as he stroked all the way up your back. His hand would bunch up your hair as he went up to your neck. His lips were right at your ear, all he whispered were sweet nothings and a calming ‘shh’ once and a while. When you had a little composure Bucky reached for the card, as you read it your lips trembled even more. A hand stayed glued to your heart as your body warmed at loving words, you could barely read it with blurry vision from the tears but it still seemed crystal clear. Your finger traced over the signature: ‘love you to the moon and back, Bucky’. And you crumbled again, your forehead hit his chest as you cried away all the pent up emotion you thought you flushed out at your therapy session.

With all the crying you were so tired, Bucky had thrown on a movie you two could watch while enjoying your strawberries and wine. You only had two and half a cup before you were snoring on Bucky’s shoulder, he tried to nudge you a couple times but nothing worked at all. He watched the movie on his own and saved the last two strawberries for you in the morning. You didn’t even wake up at him getting up and leaving the room. When he came back he got you out of your day clothes and into something comfy.

*****

You woke up to the sun hitting your back, when your eyes opened they focused on the flowers and a smile graced your face. It was the first time in a long time since you smiled with your eyes, a little giggle even slipped out.

At that sound Bucky walked out of the bathroom, “well there she is,” he smiled wide.

“What does that mean?” you wiped the drool from the side of your mouth, “I had a nap, a really good one, too.” You seemed to be bragging.

“A nap? Baby, it’s eight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows.

“Ya, I fell asleep at about five so I had a three hour nap, no biggie.” You rolled on your back and stretched out, your gaze moved back to Bucky when you heard a giggle, “what?” you laughed back.

“Eight in the morning, the next day. Your three hour nap was actually a well deserved fifteen hour hibernation.” Bucky joined you on the bed.

“That’s why I feel so good,” you sighed, you looked over to Bucky and swatted his chest at his little smirk. “Don’t think like that.”

“I bet I can make you feel just as good-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 3 years

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hey so i'm hoping to get some writing advice about creative burnout? like i seem to write in fits and spurts. some months i can churn out a oneshot or chapter everyday and some months i can do one (1) creative thing only. so i'm wondering how to prevent creative burnout and how to just create more smoothly <3 thank you!

Creative Burnout & How To Ward Against It

First, I’d like to preface this all by saying you’re definitely not alone. You probably already know this, but sometimes it’s nice to be reminded.

I know from personal experience that creative burnout can leave you feeling hopeless, detached from yourself—the kind of identity crisis no one needs in 2020.

So buckle in, folks. It’s a dosy.

I. The Symptoms

Not to be the local WebMD page here, but signs of burnout can include:

Procrastination (more than usual)

Dreading writing and feeling stuck or overly perfectionistic when you try

Physical tiredness and/or irritability

Feeling like everything is monotonous

It’s more than just writer’s block. It’s a physical and emotional exhaustion response to something that goes deeper than a simple lack of inspiration. In my experience, and from a bit of research, I’ve found that what your brain is really looking for is dopamine.

Dopamine is essentially your brain’s chemical reward system for doing something interesting or exciting to you. As someone who is diagnosed with ADHD, I have chronically low levels of dopamine, so this is a constant struggle for me—but it is absolutely made worse by creative burnout.

II. The Problem

Studies have shown that the more we do A Thing the less that thing will give us dopamine (unless a component of the activity changes regularly). This is because eventually our brains desensitise to the stimuli provided by the activity, and subsequently, we become disengaged.

But it’s not necessarily The Thing (i.e. writing) that becomes boring. Actually, more than a few factors could be at play here, and the first step to finding a solution is to identify the problem.

1. ENVIRONMENT LACKS EXCITEMENT/CHANGE—

Sometimes, the monotony of everyday life can feed creative burnout. This becomes especially applicable in quarantine when you’re not leaving your house.

What we don’t realise is that even something as small as the variables of driving to and from work, or interacting with passing coworkers, gives us dopamine. So if you have the same routine every day that does not involve any added variables, your brain will begin staunching that dopamine supply.

2. EITHER TOO EASY OR TOO CHALLENGING—

In 1975, Hungarian-American psychologist, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, coined the term “flow”, which refers to a heightened state of creativity and concentration on an activity. Csikszentmihalyi posited that if your skill level is equal to the level of challenge in any given activity, you will experience this state of flow.

The chart below is taken from Csikszentmihalyi’s own study on the subject of flow and motivation. It examines “your skill level” on the x axis in relation to the “challenge level” on the y axis.

Essentially:

Too much challenge + not enough skill = anxiety, worry (which might lead to procrastination and perfectionism)

Too much skill + not enough challenge = boredom, apathy (which might lead to monotony, irritability, and other depression-like symptoms)

Skill level = Challenge level = Flow

3. NOT ENOUGH “ACTIVE” STIMULATION—

When it comes to dopamine seeking, there is a distinct difference between active and passive stimulation in the brain.

Active stimulation is any form of activity that you have to actively engage in. For instance; exercising, doing a crossword puzzle, or reading a book. These kinds of activities not only give you dopamine, they also facilitate critical thinking and problem solving thought processes, which act as catalysts for creativity.

Passive stimulation, on the other hand, comes in the form of television, social media, and YouTube. It’s anything you can consume without having to actively engage. Passive stimulation will indeed give your brain dopamine, however, it won’t activate your creativity.

The problem also lies in the speed at which you receive the dopamine from passive activities. Passive stimulation is so easy to access that the more you consume, the harder it becomes to pick up active stimulation. Your brain expects a hit of dopamine just by picking up a phone or turning on the TV—it becomes addicted to the quick fix of a Netflix binge.

III. The Solutions

Based on the problems mentioned above, I am going to list a few solutions. Keeping in mind that not every solution will work for everyone, these can act as both preventative measures and remedies for someone who is currently burned out.

1. CHANGE UP YOUR ENVIRONMENT/ROUTINE—

Aim to do at least one thing per day that will add “variables” to the monotony. This can be as simple as going on a long walk, dressing up in that bold outfit you always wanted to wear to the office but never did, or sitting at a different workspace in your home.

Anything you can do that’s simple, but might provide an extra variable to your day to spice things up. Note: this shouldn’t be the same thing every day.

2. CHALLENGE YOURSELF MORE—

If you find yourself bored by your work, try challenging yourself more. This could mean setting goals for yourself that go a bit beyond what you’ve been doing.

For example, if you’ve been writing 500 words per day, see if you can beat your own word count every day for the next week. If you’ve been writing mainly fluff pieces, switch it up and do an angst piece. See if you can write a book in a month, or start a blog where you don’t write fiction at all!

Anything you can do to add a little kick to your workload. Note: Beware of challenging yourself too much! This can lead straight back into burnout.

3. CHALLENGE YOURSELF LESS—

If you’re on the flip side of that coin, and find that you are anxious, procrastinating, and perfectionistic when it comes to writing, fret not. Just because you’re experiencing any of these things, doesn’t mean you’re incapable of doing the job with your skillset.

It just means your perception of the job needs to be shifted.

Procrastination, at its heart, is a fear of failure, which results in actively avoiding the negative emotions associated with the task that causes this fear. Perfectionism is a type of procrastination that is a combination of a fear of failure and a fear of success (or, more accurately, other’s critiques of your success) all at once.

Neither have anything to do with your actual skillset, but they have everything to do with your perception of your skillset. Obviously, this is a harder thing to fix, as it has to do with deeply ingrained levels of self-esteem.

What I can offer you is a tactic to trick your mind into thinking you’re capable.

If you have a task, big or small, and you are feeling overwhelmed by it (like you might go curl up in bed and scroll Tumblr), immediately break that task up into smaller tasks. Keep breaking up the smaller tasks until you have the smallest possible part of the bigger task without doing nothing.

Then do that smallest possible thing.

If your goal is to write a 2000 word one shot, a small part of that task is writing half of it. An even smaller part of that task is breaking the one shot up into “scenes” and writing one scene. For instance:

Jude wakes up to a sore throat, a runny nose, and a fever.

She tries to go to work, but Cardan, being the mother hen that he is, threatens to never make her another grilled cheese sandwich (her favourite food) ever again if she doesn’t stay home.

Jude agrees begrudgingly, and Cardan sits her down in front of the TV with a bottle of Gatorade. He leaves to go get medicine from the store.

When Cardan comes back, Jude is worse than before. He makes her soup and saltine crackers and spoon feeds her.

She complains the whole time and, in her feverish state, threatens to never buy him another bottle of wine (his favourite food) ever again if he doesn’t let her feed herself.

Each bullet point represents one “scene” of about 200-400 words each. Obviously, there will be more details that you work out as you write. But with these five smaller scenes, your goal is no longer writing the 2000 word one shot. Your goal is writing the first of the five scenes.

If you complete the smallest possible task, you can stop, and you’ll still feel like you’ve accomplished something because you can cross off that task from your list. But chances are, by the time you cross off one task, you may have inspiration enough to keep going.

4. ENGAGE IN ACTIVE STIMULATION—

Since active stimulation has been proven to turn on the creative “tap”, try incorporating more of these activities into your daily routine:

Exercise: As the resident couch potato, I hate to say that exercising is good for creativity, but it is. Even if it’s just going on a short walk, so long as you’re moving.

Reading: Sometimes you have plenty of ideas, but no words to fit those ideas. Fill your well of words by carving out an hour or two each day for reading a good book.

The Creative Process: In the writing world, the creative process is a process of about 20-30 minutes that the writer partakes in every day before they start writing. This process should be creative, but also have nothing to do with writing. You can try colouring in a colouring book, painting, organising a page in your bullet journal. Anything that is creative but does not make you think about everything you have to do that day. Think of it as creative meditation.

Listen to music: Having APD, I personally can’t listen to music while I write. However, studies have shown that if you listen to at least ten songs per day, it will significantly benefit your dopamine levels and overall mood. If you’re like me and prefer to work in silence, maybe stick on a couple songs during your creative process. If you can manage music and writing together, get out those headphones!

5. KEEP A REGULAR SCHEDULE—

I know this is the most cliche point in the book, but it’s valid. This doesn’t mean do the same thing at the same time every day over and over, because ultimately we’re looking to avoid monotony.

But having pillars of structure to bolster the excitement can definitely work to keep you from slipping into burnout. Going to sleep, waking up, and having your meals at relatively the same time every day are good examples of this.

Feel free to change up the things you do between breakfast and lunch, but make sure you have those pillars of consistency so your brain knows that a break is on the horizon and doesn’t get tired.

6. PACE YOURSELF—

This is particularly difficult for those of us who are coming out of a creative burnout, but I urge you to pay special attention to this one. If we are suddenly hit by inspiration and the writing is flowing and flowing and flowing, eventually we will hit the point of highest dopamine capacity for writing.

Not putting a check on the flood of inspiration coming out of a creative burnout, I’d argue, is actually a guarantee that many of us will experience burnout all over again. It becomes this vicious cycle in which we are trapped.

While it feels great to write non-stop and receive immediate validation for that work, try to limit yourself to how much you’re writing and how immediately you post your writing (if you plan on posting it).

Whenever I finish a one shot or a chapter of something, I like to allow at least one day for editing before I post. This timeframe is important, because it acts as a buffer of rest between writing marathons.

You can take however long you need for the editing process, but definitely make sure you have a set amount of time in place. Otherwise, your brain might not have enough time to come down from what is essentially a writing high, and you will always need to reach greater heights in order to achieve that same level of dopamine.

~~~~

Overall, the most important things to take away from all of this are:

Change up your environment

Keep your brain actively stimulated

Have pillars of structure between which you can run about chaotically to your heart’s content

PACE YOURSELF!

Hope this helped. Happy writing!

-Em 🖤🗡

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ruzek-halstead · 3 years

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i found my hand is holding yours

so this started as a drabble and was supposed to be hella short, but please enjoy 1.6k words of julie and luke being absolutely adorable.

julie has been dealing with a persistent classmate who won’t take no for an answer, so luke accompanies her to their end-of-the-term party in hopes to get the point across.

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"okay, so i have a really weird favour to ask.”

luke looked up from his guitar, arching a brow at julie's obvious distress. they had been at it for a few hours, trying to write a new song, but the motivation wasn't really flowing. ultimately they decided to separate and see what they could come up with on their own. it was a bit pointless since all luke could think about was the girl in the corner and all of his feelings for her.

"there are only a handful of things i wouldn't do for you, jules. so, shoot."

the apparent blush on her cheeks was unavoidable, so she pulled a few stray curls out from behind her ears.

"would you mind coming with me to this end of term party type thing?" julie asked, hesitantly biting her lip. it wasn't that she didn't think he'd be up for it, it was just the uncomfortableness of the entire situation. "it's for everyone in our music program. but there's just this guy who isn't really getting the hint and i figure if —" luke's eyes snapped over to her nervous and fiddling figure as soon as she mentioned a boy. "i'll be there," he replied instantly. his limited motivation to continue strumming his guitar until he found a melody he enjoyed immediately disappeared, and all he could think about was that julie had been feeling uncomfortable lately, and he had no idea. "he's not like a bad guy or anything!" julie rushed to add, because she had a heart of gold and always sought the best in people. "he's sweet, really — sort of. he's just also very persistent and i'm not —" "you don't need to explain," luke told her, shooting her a lopsided grin to calm her nerves. "i'll be there." it was a blessing in disguise that the boys could now be seen by everyone, and not just when they were performing with julie. she would feel much more comfortable with luke by her side; he was her anchor, and it helped that he was so protective, that hopefully he would help get the hint across to her surprise suitor. she knew what luke was thinking; was it nick? and the answer was no. they were friends now, nothing more. but a few months back, a new student joined their program, and he was partnered with julie for a few exercises. she didn't think anything of it, being friendly and polite as per her usual. it seemed like somewhere along the way, he developed feelings for her and no matter how many times she said no to a date, he kept asking. something about persistence? julie hated it. he was still constantly polite and respectful, but the mere fact that he wouldn't take no for an answer was severely unnerving for her. she hoped him seeing her with luke would get the hint across that she wasn't interested (and if it led him to believe that she wasn't available, then so be it). the music program party was being held in the school gym, filled with games, snacks and of course, an open mic. even though julie was a tad bit nervous to attend, luke confidently grabbed onto her hand and quite literally dragged her into the gymnasium. "socialization is good for you, jules," he had said teasingly, to which julie squeezed his hand painfully. he shot her a wolfish grin in response. "i'm going to get us drinks, you good?" luke pondered, ducking his eyes to meet hers. he could tell how nervous she looked by the way she couldn't stop moving her hands, and it irritated him that someone was making her feel weary like this. "jules," he repeated, squeezing her hand. julie nodded, raising her chin in a more obvious display of confidence. "i'm good," she insisted. he pulled on their hands until he was out of her reach and hers dropped back down to her side. the gym was decently filled; julie recognized a number of familiar faces as she actively searched for flynn, who had shot her a message saying she was already here. as she was distracted searching through the crowd, she didn't notice the one person she was trying to avoid. his name was caden, and he was cute and sweet, but he was just not getting it. "hey julie! it's nice to see you!" his hands were shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocked back and forth. "are you planning on singing tonight?" julie shot him a polite smile. she just didn't have it in her to be mean, but she knew if she was a bit more direct and aggressive, this entire situation might end here and now. "probably not. i don't plan on staying long." "oh," his eyes widened, and suddenly julie knew that was the wrong thing to say. "did you maybe want to go out after? coffee or something?" julie felt her panic start to climb its way up her throat; god, where the hell was luke? it's okay, she just had to let him down again. "uh, actually —" "here you go, jules!" julie almost screamed in relief when she heard luke's familiar voice. he slipped in next to her, bumping her hip clumsily. to the untrained eye, it looked like he was just being a walking hazard, but julie knew it was on purpose. he was a touch-oriented person, and his touch soothed julie; they both knew that. luke handed julie a cup of punch, and his gaze flitted to caden, who was staring at them with wide blue eyes. "oh hey! my name's luke, i'm in the band with julie." with his free hand, he reached over to shake caden's hand. caden looked surprised and a tad disappointed, but he was nothing but respectful to luke as he introduced himself. "i'm caden, one of julie's classmates." a comfortable silence passed among them as their focus was directed to the stage where one of their classmates was performing. luke could sense julie's tension and his free hand reached down for hers. he didn't outright tangle their fingers together but his pinky reached out to wrap with hers in a comforting gesture. it gave her the power to do whatever she felt comfortable with. unbeknownst to them, caden watched their entire interaction, and even though he was disappointed, only a blind person wouldn't see their obvious connection. it suddenly dawned on him why julie never seemed to reciprocate his intentions, and he couldn't believe he'd never caught on before (he saw their performances on youtube videos). "ah, so you two are...?" caden trailed off, unsure of what to label it. luke and julie glanced over at him, julie with furrowed eyebrows, and luke with a somewhat smug but innocent expression. "oh, we're not re—" julie started to say, but caden shook his head, smiling. "i should've figure it out sooner," he added, "i've seen the youtube videos. you can't fake that chemistry." luke pursed his lips at the use of the word chemistry. at one point, he'd deny it, but at this point? it would be an outright lie. julie, however, just looked confused. "sure, but that's no—" "it's okay julie, you don't have to explain," caden insisted. "i see the way he looks at you, and i get it now. i'll see you around," he smiled, waving before he walked away. luke awkwardly sipped his drink. he wasn't expecting to be put on blast like that. he couldn't exactly control his eyes and what they did when they looked at julie. she was the embodiment of beauty and music and perfection, and that was everything luke saw when he looked at her. if he was exhibiting 'heart-eyes' (as alex and reggie had told him multiple times), he couldn't stop it. "okay, well, i guess that worked," julie smiled, tapping her cup against luke's in cheers. "although, i wonder why he thought we were — you know." luke glanced over at her. she was watching the stage performance with such a sense of innocence that luke almost didn't want to burst her bubble. almost. "come on, jules," he chuckled, shaking his head when she turned to him with questioning eyes. "you know why." julie pursed her lips, holding his steady gaze. it was challenging because his eyes were absolutely gorgeous and intense, and clearly the way he looked at her made her feel things. sometimes she could feel his gaze on her while she played piano, or while she studied for a test or wrote excitedly in his (their) song journal. sometimes she would look over at him and he'd already be looking at her. and at first, he would look away in embarrassment, but now, he would hold her gaze, sometimes even going as far to send a smirk to really throw her off her game and fluster her. something had changed between them along the way and they both knew it. they just hadn't decided when was the right time to address it. the truth was luke could be ripped away at any moment; the thought caused julie to live in a constant state of paralyzing fear. and so, the time never felt right. "yeah," julie mumbled, reached for his hand again. "i do." julie didn't end up leaving early. she found herself in the corner of the gym, leaning against the wall with luke's arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. they watched performance after performance and they couldn't even be bothered to get up on stage and show them what a real duet looked like because they were so comfortable in each other's arms. and as julie tipped her head onto luke's shoulder, a sudden wave of exhaustion overtaking her, she knew caden never had a chance because her heart was already taken.

tag list: @grootsgillespie || @jayhalsteadcpd || @moreflowersthanweeds || @well-hes-just-too-cute || @echocharm17618 || @leopard-print-slippers || @jandthephantoms || @scribblingfangirl || @n0wornever || @simpformolina || @only-trust-fictional-characters || @snowmione18 || @tellurphantoms || @knitsessed || @carriewilsons || @elitharavenclaw || @wakeupfantoms || @uselessnerdnherblahg || @katie-navarro || @bookwormswillruletheworld || @lmaohuh || @thatsmyverb || @sophiphi || @kybee1497 || @lukewearingbeanies || @sapphireamethystvsco || @constantly-singing || @helloilovejatp || @your-typical-ingenue || @nonickslander || @s-h-a-d-o-w-s || @asdfghjkl-fanfics

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #juke #jukebox #luke x julie #julie x luke #juke fic #juke fics #jatp fic #jatp fics #luke patterson #julie molina #fics

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searedwood · 3 years

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30 Day Gay Journal Prompts

This is specifically designed for Pride Month and self celebration, but this can be for literally any other use. Except hate. No hate allowed.

Day 1- Write your preferred name(s), pronouns, nice nouns (nouns you like to be referred to as), and bad nouns (nouns you don't like to be referred to as).

Day 2- Record your triggers, from really bad to not as bad to getting over it. Add any specifications or notes if you feel like you need them. This is so you can identify what makes you uncomfortable or panicked, which will help you be able to identify and avoid a situation in which you may feel threatened, uncomfortable, or panicked.

Day 3- Make a list of signs that you are having a panic attack. This will help you be able to communicate to close friends or family members what may happen in an event you become panicked. This will also help you identify when you're having a panic attack, which will help you be able to calm down. Additionally, record some ways that will help stop the panic attack. For me, some ways of calming down are to go outside, my stuffie, breathing and grounding exercises, comfort music, and puns or jokes.

Day 4- Take some time and think about what makes you happy and relaxed. Write down your comfort music, comfort videos, and comfort characters. If you have a comfort game or movie, include that as well. This is to help you identify a source of calm, relaxation, and happiness that you can easily fall back on if you are uncomfortable or scared.

Day 5- Do some research on LGBTQIA+ labels, flags, and symbols. Write down your gender identity and what it means for you. Write down your sexual and romantic orientations as well, and what they mean for you. Additionally, draw little Pride Flags and symbols beside each label. I drew the genderfaunet flag on the inside cover of my journal, along with corresponding flowers that represent what I see in my identity, as well as what I hope to integrate into myself (Snowdrop - rebirth, Chrysanthemum - truth, Rose leaves - hope, Lilacs - growth/progress, Yarrow - healing, and Narcissus - self love)

Day 6- Write down the titles of your favorite LGBTQIA+ books, movies, TV shows, and games, or titles you want to see/read/play. Do a little digging and find out what titles sound interesting. Supporting LGBTQIA+ creators is a wonderful way to celebrate Pride.

Day 7- Journaling doesn't have to be just writing. Try drawing some LGBTQIA+ inspired art, whether it's just a few doodles, a flag or two, or a beautiful painting. Dedicate this entry to expressing yourself and your identity in a way without words.

Day 8- Write gay poetry. You may not think yourself talented or particularly good at writing poems, but that doesn't mean you should keep yourself from doing it, even for a day. Poetry is a wonderful way to bend language to your will and express yourself in a way that only you have to understand. Write a poem expressing your experience in the LGBTQIA+ community, or a poem detailing your first gay crush. Whatever you feel on your heart today, put it into beautifully unique words.

Day 9- Write about the moment you realized you weren't straight or binary. Alternatively, write about the moment you learned what the LGBTQIA+ community was. Describe your feelings and thoughts in the moment, and reflect over how they have changed and evolved over time.

Day 10- Take a moment and think about where you would be if LGBTQIA+ rights have existed all along, without the need for reform laws or protests. Write down who you think you would be, how you would live, and how easy it would be to do things you can't right now. At the same time, think about the disadvantages. Consider the lack of a fight for freedom and how that may influence your opinion or thoughts.

Day 11- Write a letter to your younger self. Tell your younger self about who you are and who you've become. Give them words of encouragement about the journey ahead. Remind your younger self that no matter what happens, you turn out to be a wonderful and beautiful person.

Day 12- Write a letter to your older self. Detail your present experience as a member/ally of the LGBTQIA+ community. Present your ideas about where the community will be moving forward and how much progress society as a whole will make. Ask yourself some questions, like "How do you celebrate your identity?" Later in the future, you can come back to this letter and respond.

Day 13- Learn some phrases or words of Polari. Polari is a critically endangered language invented by young gay men living in Britain. It was also used by circus men and theatre kids. Few LGBTQIA+ people now know of the language, so there's no better time to try to revive it.

Day 14- Do some research on Pride history. Record interesting or important events that marked the history of the LGBTQIA+ community. What happened at the first Pride Parade? Who was the first advocate for gay and lesbian marriage? What was the LGBTQIA+ community like before it was acceptable to be openly queer?

Day 15- Write a letter to those that are anti-LGBTQIA+. Explain why queer rights are humans rights. Tell them that love is love. Or, if you're feeling like letting loose that anger, just tell them off. This letter is for your eyes only, so don't be afraid to get mean if it makes you feel better.

Day 16- Take a moment and think about how you wish to represent yourself. Do you want to wear skirts and dresses? Do you prefer baggy pants and a puffy jacket? Do you like wearing makeup? How do you style your hair? Record how you currently dress and look and how you wish you could dress and look. Write about how your wishes reflect your identity.

Day 17- Write some ways you can improve on the way you treat yourself. Are you hard on yourself because you just can't make the right grade? Do you obsess over how you don't fit in to your family's standards of gender and sexuality? Give yourself some love and think about how you can be nicer to yourself. Remind yourself that school grades aren't more important than your own needs. Remember that if you are in an unhealthy relationship with friends or family, it isn't your fault.

Day 18- Write about what really makes you feel like yourself. You know better than anyone what your authentic self is. So what is it? What makes you feel really... you?

Day 19- If someone described you, what would they say? This can be anything from physical appearance to personality. This can help you think about how you present yourself to others. Do you want more people to know exactly what gender you identify as? Do you not want people to know what pronouns you prefer?

Day 20- Do some research on neopronouns. If you don't use any, perhaps you'll find a set or three you feel comfortable with (if not, that's fine!) If you can't do your own research, try making up your own set! I sometimes feel semi-feminine, like just a little teaspoon of femininity, but I don't really like she/her pronouns. So, I made for myself a set that sounds similar but isn't quite there. Xe/Xer/Xers/Xerself. The 'x' is pronounced like the 's' in 'measure.' A good way to make sure you know how to use a set of neopronouns in a sentence is to use this example I got from pronouny: Today I went to the park with xer. Xe brought xer frisbee. At least, I think it was xers. By the end of the day, xe was throwing the frisbee to xerself.

Day 21- Have you heard the phrase "black sheep of the herd"? It refers to someone that doesn't really fit in to their social group. In what ways are you the black sheep? Is it because of your identity or orientation? How can you help others to see you aren't different and shouldn't be alienated? How can you encourage people to welcome LGBTQIA+ people to the herd?

Day 22- Imagine you are teaching a class of young children about LGBTQIA+, gender, and sexual/romantic orientations. What would you say? How would you encourage them to be open minded and to explore their own identities?

Day 23- With great Pride comes great hardships. There are many obstacles and difficulties when it comes to finding your true self and figuring out your identity and orientation. What hardships have you overcome? What have you learned from them?

Day 24- One of your friends comes to you about having questions about gender identity. They are questioning their own identity and seek your help and support. List some ways you would help your friend feel supported and loved while also helping them discover their identity.

Day 25- List three things you would do if you weren't afraid. (For me, these would easily be: attending Pride Parades, advocating for queer rights, and coming out)

Day 26- Take your favorite or least favorite LGBTQIA+ ship and rewrite a scene as if they were together, or list some of your favorite queer ships.

Day 27- Discover some gender-neutral terms for things like family members, romantic partners, or honorifics (Mister, Miss, Mx.). If you can't find any you find interesting or comfortable, try creating some of your own. My pibling (parent+sibling) calls me their nibling or nibkid (NB term for sibling's child).

Day 28- Have you ever wanted to write a story? Record an idea or two, or three or four, for LGBTQIA+ stories. They can be anything from lesbian princesses to a coming-of-age trans story. Maybe you'll end up planning out your best seller!

Day 29- Think about what rights aren't granted to LGBTQIA+ people. What are they? Do they directly affect you as well? How do these lack of rights make you feel? What can you do to help advocate for these rights?

Day 30- The last day of Pride Month doesn't mean it's the last day of acceptance and love. How can you spread Pride throughout the year? How can you keep and open mind and heart and advocate for LGBTQIA+ rights? Maybe set a list of goals for yourself, things you want to keep up through the year.

#queer pride #lgbt pride #gay pride #lesbian pride #asexual pride #nonbinary pride #pride #writing prompts #journal prompts #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbt community #love is love #gay #gay journal #queer #self love #queer representation

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sailordiavolo · 3 years

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suicide prevention month 2021 - things that helped me stay alive

i heard that this month is suicide prevention month in the united states. as someone who’s struggled for many years with suicide myself, and is currently in the mystical “better place”, i feel it’s my duty to open this can of worms. i am unafraid of the stigma that comes with discussing such things.

i’ll go over things that helped me to cope during dark times. these may also apply to being depressed in general (?) because no offense but “drinking water” doesn’t help as much as google seems to think it does. note that these aren’t be all end all solutions, more like techniques that helped me to stay sane on some of my worst days.

1. get rid of everything that’s an immediate danger to your health.

if you’re actively a danger to yourself, safety-proof your home. don’t keep sharp objects lying around, or anything dangerous of the like. get rid of anything toxic or chemical, and don’t keep medicines in excess.

2. if you can’t make yourself happy, try to mildly amuse yourself instead

thinking “happy thoughts” doesn’t really work for me, especially if i’m in the throes of a depressive episode. i do have many things that make me happy, but i seem to forget about all of them in dark times. that being said, really dumb jokes get me every time. if i can make myself laugh, smile or chuckle, i’ve already made it 10 times easier for myself. and if i can do that, usually it’s easy to make myself forget about the original reason i was upset in the first place.

dear reader, i don’t know what would count as “mildly amusing” to you, but here’s some things that work for me.

i have a self care playlist on youtube. mine’s pretty dumb, but making a playlist like that of things that you find entertaining or amusing might help. another amazing one is distantcry’s worst beat ever collection.

very specific songs that really get me going include metrostation’s shake it, botdf’s bewitched, rm’s expensive girl, and she past away’s ruh.

3. do some self care activities

self care is very very important. when you feel like you’re absolute worst, that’s a free pass to be as selfish as you need to be until you feel better. no job, no person, no drama is worth dying over. all of that can wait until after you’re finished what you’re doing. if you’re not really sure what to do as self care activities, i’ll list some suggestions.

take a hot bath, if possible. if you have the resources, add bubbles, flower petals, bathe salts or candles. i did this the other day and sat in the bath and ate crumpets. it was amazing. if not, have a steaming hot shower. (i know it’s hard to find the energy, but it’ll help, i promise)

watch your favourite childhood show, or your favourite show at the moment, or play a video game.

sleep all day, or take the day off.

eat your favourite food, or the best food available to you right now.

spend some money if you have it. personally, i never spend all my money in a week, i save some in case i have a panic attack or something so then i can spend money on something totally random to make myself feel better.

change up your appearance. i usually end up cutting my hair short or randomly dying it, but this can also mean dressing in a way that makes you feel good, painting your nails, or doing your makeup.

4. know how to comfort yourself

this is related to the last one but knowing what brings you comfort is very important. it took me a very long time to figure out what things i find comforting. list the things that you find comforting, and you can use those to help yourself feel better. it might be music, interests, even something abstract.

if you can’t think of anything, then make sure to pay attention to things that make you feel nice/comforted, and list them down. it’s also important to know what will send you over the edge, so you can avoid it.

5. distraction topics

this may help with anxiety as well, but having distraction topics can help you to calm down and forget about what you were worried about. it’s good to have a few distraction topics up your sleeve in case of emergency. i’ll list a few of my favourites, but if you ever need one don’t be afraid to ask me directly, or send me an ask on my blog! i have a ridiculous amount of misc knowledge just floating around.

dinosaur fossils of mothers protecting their nest have been found, meaning that dinosaurs probably felt some form of motherly love. love on earth is billions and billions of years old. creatures have loved each other on this planet since before the dawn of history. imagine being the first organism to love on this planet and what that must’ve been like

some cave paintings were animated. they had different frames painted over each other, and the flickering of a flame in the cave would cause the images to appear as if they were moving. isn’t that extremely profound?

i saw somewhere, that scientists attempted to see what an electron was made out of, or something to that effect. it’s made of a pool of energy, which is essentially nothing. no form, no matter. everything is made out of nothing.

6. romanticise your future

a lot of us probably don’t have a concept of the future, or if we do, it’s something that sounds absolutely horrible. well, forget about that! think instead about how hot n sexy you’ll be in your 30’s, 40’s, etc. don’t worry about how you’ll get there for now, your future self can take care of that. think about your ideal life, and get excited like it’s absolutely going to happen. the more you think about it, the more it will become true.

7. romanticise your current self

nobody in your life understands you? that’s because you’re the hot brooding mysterious one. struggle with very dark thoughts? omg you’d be so powerful as a jujutsu sorcerer. people are staring? it’s because they’re in love with you. people whispering as you go by? also in love with you. no friends? the universe had to keep you humble because otherwise you’d be too perfect. hate the way you look today? you’re just a littel troll babie. the more amusing these thoughts are, the better. and if you think these things for long enough, eventually it will trick your brain into thinking it’s true. who’s gonna check you? the telepaths?

8. put things into perspective

i am prone to delusional thoughts when i’m panicked, and i have to remind myself to reel it in. think about it, you’re more afraid of answering the phone than you are of death? doesn’t sound very cash money of you, bro.

think about how many years you’ve really lived, especially if you think you’ve failed in life. take 12 years off your age, because childhood doesn’t count. also take off any other years which you were forced to live the way someone else wanted you to live, rather than for myself.

for example, i’m currently 23. my household was pretty strict, so i couldn’t really do anything before age 18. which gives me a grand total of 5 years of me trying to figure out life by myself. it helps me to remember how young i actually am in the grand scheme of things, and that i have plenty of time to still figure things out.

9. find a safe outlet for dark urges

for me, art and journaling really helped. music too, especially when i felt like i could relate to either the lyrics, or just the tone/mood/feel of the song. it might be exercise, or you may like to do creative writing or make oc’s. sometimes you may just need a friend or someone to listen.

if you don’t have anyone to talk to, you can message me or shoot me an anon

10. sleep it off

sleep is not going to cure anything, but if i’m pushed over the edge and am struggling with dark thoughts, going to sleep almost always helps. most of the time i still feel like shit in the morning, but no longer in the mood to try anything hasty.

lastly: suicide is not the easy way out

note: i’m gonna be discussing my own experiences with suicide in this part, so if you don’t want to see that, then don’t read past this point

suicide is not the easy way out. it’s messy and it’s ugly and it’s painful and it’s gonna bring out the worst in people. i’ve been struggling with it since age 19.

one particular attempt landed me in the hospital after i swallowed a bunch of painkillers. i couldn’t think or speak properly, i was slurring my words and tripping over myself. my doctor brushed me off and said that it “would probably get better” with time, but it never did. it improved, but my mind has never been the same as it once was, and one of my biggest insecurities to this day is when i struggle to learn new things or get things mixed up that i shouldn’t. i struggle to learn the simplest of things, and my reaction times tend to be very slow.

the point is, sometimes you don’t die, sometimes you just end up hurting yourself in a way that won’t get better. nobody needs that. if had’ve known how to calm myself down back then, i might not’ve tried.

i don’t mind talking about it now, since i’ve dedicated so much time in learning how to uplift myself. i may be in the “better place” now, but you don’t need to rush yourself to be better immediately. sometimes you need to be patient, use baby steps, or learn to accomodate yourself where you are. these things take time. that’s okay.

and remember, you are loved and very much needed to be here on the planet with us.

#suicide awareness #suicide awareness month #mental health awareness #mental health #depression #anxiety #self help #suicide prevention #suicide prevention month #cw suicide

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everyonesannoyedwithme · 3 years

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play the role of anyone but me, ii

haha since im making the most of motivation, here's chapter 2 already! tag list at the end :) also yes this chapters title is from an ariana grande song. get used to it.

warnings: cursing

word count: 1,408

chapter ii: fight our energy

English, math, and chemistry were excruciating. Julie was a good student, of course, but going over the same syllabus in each class over and over again was not her thing. Luckily, fourth period was music class, and then she had lunch. Unluckily, Patterson, Peters, and Mercer were in her music class.

Julie, Flynn, and Carrie all had third period and fourth together, so they walked together to music class, and when they got there, it was practically empty. The three girls, who had long since ditched their coffees and teas, chose seats together in the middle of the room.

Not long after the girls had settled into their seats, the bell rang and Mrs. Harrison, the music teacher, moved to close the door. As she reached for the handle, three boys slid into the classroom. Peters and Patterson raced to the last empty seats in the back of the room, Peters practically falling out of his seat and Patterson unable to contain his laughter. Mercer just stood in front of Mrs. Harrison with a tired expression on his face.

“Hi, Alex.” the teacher said with a raised eyebrow.

“Hi, Mrs. Harrison. Sorry about them.” He gestured vaguely towards the two others.

“It's alright. At least they’re amusing.” She said with a slight smile. Mercer chuckled before going to take the last available seat. Coincidentally next to Carrie. Julie, Carrie, and Flynn all rolled their eyes at each other.

“Okay class. I’m sure you’ve tuned out all your other teachers when they read through the syllabus, so I’ll let you all do that in your own time. I expect you will all turn it in on Friday signed by at least one parent.” Mrs. Harrison said to the class. “Now. Onto the interesting stuff; to kick off the year, I have decided to host a songwriting contest!” Murmurs rippled through the class, kids sitting up in their seats and glancing at each other. “Just one catch - you must work with a partner, and it must be the partner I assign for you.”

Everyone groaned.

“Oh c’mon Mrs. H, can’t we just write alone?” Patterson called out.

“No, this is meant to be a team exercise. You will be graded on how smoothly your song flows and the incorporation of different instruments in your song, as well as a subjective grade from each of your peers. Which means you will perform for the class.”

Another groan from the students.

“God, I hope we get paired together.” Julie leaned over and whispered to Flynn. All three girls wrote music, but Carrie always wrote alone. Flynn and Julie had written together before, and both girls were crossing their fingers that they'd get paired together.

“Okay, I'm going to read out your partners now. No trading. Kravet and Keller. Adams and Hill.” Julie glanced around at the rest of the class. She could do this, it wouldn't be horrible to get paired with someone who wasn't Flynn. As long as it wasn't-

“Molina and Patterson.” Mrs. Harrison called out to the class.

“Shit.” Julie whispered. Carrie and Flynn's heads whipped around to Julie with sympathetic expressions. “Shit, fuck, shit. Fucking hell.” Clearly, the only words in Julie’s vocabulary at the moment were curse words.

“Jones and Wilson.” was the next duo to leave Mrs. Harrison's mouth.

Great. Her two best friends were paired together and she got stuck with Mr. McBiceps Electric Guitar. Just Julie’s luck.

“Peters and Danforth-Evans. Evans-McKessie and Mercer. And finally, Jacobs and Barry. You have the rest of today’s class to get to know your partner and start brainstorming. You'll get one class every week to work on your song, but other than that I expect each of you to meet outside of school. The song is due next Friday. Now get to work!” Mrs. Harrison called before starting to make the rounds around the class.

Julie glanced behind her and locked eyes with Patterson. He looked smug. She turned back around and sighed loudly before grabbing her back and standing from her seat.

“Wish me luck ladies. If you hear any screams from the back of the classroom, it's just me strangling him with his guitar strap. No big deal.” She joked.

Carrie and Flynn laughed before both hugging her.

“Good luck, babe.” Flynn said.

“Yeah, and maybe try not to kill them. I'll never hear the end of it from Bobby if my best friend killed his.” Carrie joked.

Julie half smiled, but it felt like a wince. She slowly made her way to the back of the classroom, where Patterson was. Fortunately, Kayla Evans-McKessie, Mercer’s partner, was back there too. She and Patterson were in the middle of a heated argument when Julie got to the empty seat next to Patterson.

“Wow, Patterson. Is it natural instinct for you to annoy every girl you interact with?” Julie asked mock-sympathetically. Kayla laughed.

“Definitely seems like it. Sorry you got stuck with him.”

“Hey!” Patterson exclaimed. “I’m right here.”

Kayla and Julie looked at each other and then back at the boy. “We know.” they said in unison before laughing.

“Kayla!” Mercer called. “C’mon, we have to get started.”

Kayla smiled at Julie quickly before going back to her seat next to Mercer.

“Julie Molina.” Patterson said with an appreciative smile. “Damn, I got lucky. Second best songwriter in the class!”

Julie raised an eyebrow at him. “Second best?”

“Second to me, obviously. You aren't better than me, princess, no matter how pretty your voice is.” Julie scowled at his words.

“First off, don’t call me that. Second, if anyone in this class is better at songwriting than me it's Carrie, not you.” She snapped.

“Sure thing, princess. Whatever you say.” Patterson said, grinning that stupid smile of his.

“Ugh. Look, we have to write this song and I am not losing.”

“Good to hear, because neither am I.”

“I thought maybe we could build upon a song I already started. I have a basic melody line - for the piano, obviously - and it would just need layering and lyrics.” Julie pulled her journal out of her bag and handed it to Patterson, the book already open to the song she had started the day before.

“Hm…” Patterson said as he looked over what she had. “It’s nice, but kind of boring. What if during the chorus we add something like this?” He grabbed a pencil from the small pocket of his backpack and started writing over what she had.

When he handed it back to Julie, she read over what he had written humming along.

“This is… actually really good. You came up with it just now?” she asked.

“No, I had been working on it last week. Couldn't figure out what it was missing until you handed me what you had. Your cute little melody had everything my rockin’ idea needed, princess.” Patterson said with a wink. Julie rolled her eyes, fighting a smile.

She was not allowed to find that cute.

“We should meet after school. I want to get this over with as quickly as possible. My place?” Julie said, glancing at the clock. The bell was going to ring in a minute, the class having moved faster than she anticipated.

“Sure. But I’m gonna need your address, princess.” God, that smirk was going to drive Julie crazy, only if the dumb nickname didn't do so first.

“How about you just put your number in my phone and I’ll text it to you?” Julie asked. She wanted this to take as little time as possible and if the agonizing boy had to have her phone number for that to happen, then so be it. Reaching into her back pocket, Julie pulled her phone out and opened a new contact. Patterson plucked her phone out of her hand, a shit-eating grin spreading on his face.

“Y’know, if you wanted my number, princess, you could’ve just asked.” He said before handing her phone back. Julie pursed her lips and shot him a glance before looking down at the name he had entered as his contact.

Luke ;) 💕

Julie was almost ready to make good on her statement to Flynn and Carrie and strangle the boy when the bell rang, saving him. Patterson pulled his bag onto his shoulder and started walking backwards out of the classroom, his eyes trained on Julie the whole time.

“No booty calls!” He yelled from the doorway.

Julie turned pink. As if.

tag list: @lydias--stiles

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fic #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #juke #juke fic

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maybe-i-dreamt-u · 3 years

Text

Some Jean Moreau Headcanons that nobody asked for because I love him so so much and I miss him and his grumpy face

Buckle up cause this is a long one oh my god

He can draw, like, so incredibly well, he can sketch anything in a matter of minutes and it looks so good

Once Jeremy notices he leaves him a nice lil sketchbook on his desk with only an anonymous note ((because I can fucking BET that he’s as bad at receiving gifts as Neil))

Anyway. Once he gets that sketchbooks he starts carrying it everywhere and draws everything that catches his eye- it’s a nice distraction from his thoughts and memories + he wasn’t really allowed to do any of that with the Ravens, so he’s enjoying it as much as he can now

Jeremy’s heart swells whenever he sees him drawing, but nobody needs to know about that

within a month the sketchbook is full of drawings, mainly the trojans, stray cats he sees on the street and pretty places in California

also like half the drawings are of Jeremy

it’s not his fault, they live together, of course he’s gonna have a lot of drawings for Jeremy, sTOP JUDGING HIM

nobody really gets to see what’s in the sketchbook, he’s very good at keeping it closed, and nO NOT BECAUSE OF HIS DRAWINGS OF JEREMY AND HIS HANDS GOD DAMNIT

he still keeps all of them though.

yes, all of them, as soon as the first one is finished, he somehow finds a new one on his desk

hm I wonder how that happened

anyway

he also likes writing

not necessarily writing stories or anything he just

likes writing

by hand

he used to have really pretty handwriting

it was cursive and it looked amazing

he was so proud of it

but it’s kinda hard to have pretty handwriting after having broken 6 of your fingers

but he’s getting there again

slowly, but surely

he gets himself a journal and a fountain pen or some fancy shit

and he just decides that he wants to have pretty handwriting again

and so he starts writing about whatever’s on his mind

whether it’s some Exy strategy, the specific colour of Jeremy’s hair in the sunlight, or a new card game Laila and Alvarez taught him, he writes it down, as writing exercise

well, partly as writing exercise

in part he also wants to document the beginning of his new life and his newly found happiness

By the time he goes pro his handwriting is as beautiful as ever

everyone envies him for it

and don’t even get me started on his signature

also, I might have said this before but consider

Jean Moreau wearing rings. silver or black bands around his fingers

I fully believe that if aftg was from another era, Jean would wear those short, black gloves, you know the ones I mean. as it is though, he’ll settle for rings the colour of his eyes, that add a little bit of shine to his mostly black outfits

if he’s feeling particularly rebellious he might add a chain around his neck, but it’d take a while for him to get comfortable enough around the trojans to do that

while rooming with the trojans he gets to witness them play a bunch of video games

Laila and Alvarez do twitch streams and you cannot change my mind about that

and sometimes they invite him and Jeremy to their streams

Jeremy is happy to obliege, Jean not so much

but even if he doesn’t appear on camera or whatever, his commentary is almost always audible in the background

and everyone loves his wry jokes and plain rudeness towards the protags of the games

they’ve gotten him to play with them a couple of times

but one game that he hates with a passion

one game that he feels has personally offended him

is Minecraft

you will never see him play Minecraft and he will always degradingly stare at anyone who mentions playing or enjoying the game

he doesn’t have a reason, he simply hates it and that’s it

also, he hates american shows and movies

you’d say he’d have gotten used to it in what, 10 years? but no. if he ever watches tv, which he rarely does, but if it happens, it’s either european ((see: French)) movies, or anime

he likes anime because it allows him to practice his Japanese without thinking of Riko and the master, he can think of the language and not immediately think of pain and suffering

his favourite is Tokyo Ghoul

also, sometimes when Renee visits, they watch hxh together

speaking of Renee

they always go on picknicks together, and it’s always somewhere with a lot of flowers

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, Jean loves flowers

he loves looking at them, he loves smelling them, loves taking care of them, drawing them, journaling about them, everything

he loves how you can say a million words with a single flower

and also, how delicate and elegant they are

say what you want, but I feel like Jean is actually very delicate and gentle to his core

like yea, ever since he was sold to Moriyama and forced to become a raven, he had to be more violent

he had to be violent to be a raven and he had to be violent to play Exy and to be by Riko’s side

but I feel like if he could, he would do a totally different sport, like figure skating or something like that

as it is though, he has to deal with Exy and its violent nature

at least he’s a trojan now

he can relearn to be himself

be the person he wants to be, the person he feels he is at the bottom of his heart

because he’s finally with people that love him and he’s finally free

or well, as free as you can be, while still technically being the Moriyama’s

anyway that’s it for now

sorry, this got a lot longer than I intended it to be

uhh if you’ve come this far thanks? and I hope u enjoyed:))

#yea #sorry I just have so much love for him #it was bound to spill at some point #here u go #aftg #all for the game #jean moreau

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boogiewrites · 3 years

Text

No. 9: The Body CH. 6

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve explores the limits of her power. Diego is still stalking her and finds out more about her. Eve meets Klaus.

Warnings/Tags: Klaus. Talk of past trauma and phobias. Brief mentions of illness, injury and death.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Eve had begun to notice changes in her shape from the training. Work wasn’t as strenuous and honestly, her ass was looking fantastic. Her body was adapting but she felt she wasn’t exercising her mind enough. Out of the two, trying to use her mind and powers was harder to find time for since it was so draining. Using them at work in small increments to help things along was now manageable, but there were no visible results from it. Nothing she could look at, try to heal, and then see healed. So that’s where she started.

Eve wasn’t a stranger to doing illegal things. If you took a look at her juvenile record that would be clear. What she was doing wasn’t exactly illegal but it was certainly breaking some rules. She was finding it surprising how much she could get away with by simply wearing her white coat with her ID and having a determined look on her face. People held doors open for her that she didn’t have clearance for, add carrying a clipboard around on top of that and she could’ve gotten into just about anywhere it seemed. She was starting to understand how Diego was so good at it, and more interestingly understanding why he did it. That little flush of her cheeks and rush of misbehaving came back to her, something she’d not felt in over a decade, fueled her powers, and gave her a little oomph to work with.

She started small, visited patients being held that was out of the ER after surgery, vehicle accidents, and the like, plenty of small cuts and scrapes that no one would notice were gone. She’d look in and find someone resting and alone, not hard to do most nights. She’d find some road rash, a smaller gash, something not too intricate. At first, she thought she needed to put her hands on the person to heal and woke up a few very understandably startled people. But after a few successful attempts, she started to push herself more. By focusing she began to be able to heal cuts over and no scar would be left in its place. Whoever she did this to, she would check on their file until they were discharged, making sure she wasn’t hurting them or causing bad side effects. So far they’d all made a full recovery with no complications. This was extremely promising and made Eve’s confidence grow and therefore emboldened her to push herself.

She’d worn herself ragged running experiments on what she could or couldn’t do. She had a journal she kept hidden that she kept her results in. So far, she’d been able to find some limitations and strengths. No matter how hard she tried, she was no match for cancer. She could help with someone’s side effects momentarily but be unable to cure it. The same could be said for viral and bacterial instances. Once something had infiltrated and infested a body, she could no longer help it. She could only manipulate the body itself. Her hopes of being able to be the cure for cancer, which she would admit was a bit egotistical, were broken after seeing many fade away after brief respites she’d give them from nausea or pain. It was nice to be able to help certainly but having to see suffering and not be able to fix it was a heavy burden she was having to learn to deal with.

It was never easy to lose someone. It was something she wouldn’t say you got used to exactly, but it was something you could come to understand with time. Or at least be able to come to terms with. Since Eve was an emotional person deep down, and the healing she’d been trying to do to help herself manage that was opening up old wounds and was making her feel raw. Every life that slipped through her fingers would hit her harder than it had months prior. Which is what led her to be so reckless, she guesses. So she tried to bring someone back from the dead.

It wasn’t uncommon sadly, for a child brought in after catching a stray bullet from a hit and run or gang violence. It felt so unfair, and the first time she tried the child was rolled in, DOA, her heart poured out for them. She gave it her all, paddles, compressions and when nothing moved the vitals she had a last-ditch effort. A tear-filled pressing of her hands to the chest of the child, nurses looked on with heartbroken eyes for the doctor as she had a rare moment of breaking on the job. For a fleeting moment, a blip on the monitor later ruled out to a technical glitch, but Eve just couldn’t muster it. She passed out onto the bloody floor from her attempts and was sent home.

She’d had mixed feelings about it. Had she almost done it? Could she get stronger? Or had she found a line that she couldn’t cross? The page entry for her recorded attempts had teardrops running her ink on that entry. She felt defeated and decided to take a break.

--------------------------

Diego watches Eve without her knowing, as he sometimes still does. He trusts her, but a part of him always wants to be sure. She’s in an unusual neighborhood, going into an apartment building he doesn’t know. He decided to wait on her to appear again instead of finding her inside. He didn’t have to wait much more than an hour before she appeared again, seeming uneasy as she stepped back into the now dark streets.

He followed behind, spilling out of an alleyway after she passed and started the task of getting closer to her. When he finally got close enough to reach out and speak he was met swiftly with a switchblade and a series of moves he’d taught her.

“Woah! Hey! It’s me!” He says defensively, only a minor rise in key from surprise as he jumped back.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST Diego!” She says with an expression he’s never seen before.

“Hey! Hey! I didn’t know you’d be so jumpy!” He keeps his hands up between them as she huffs out of her nose like a bull, the late winter night air just still barely showing her breath.

“I’m a woman. Alone. At night on the street, dude!” She states obviously and biting as she puts her blade away. “Of COURSE I’m jumpy!” She whispers angrily.

“Look, there are people around and the streetlights are on... I didn’t know I’d scare you.” He explains with hands now on her shoulders. “You okay? You’ve got that wild look in your eyes.”

“I’m just…” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’m fine. I just… Wanna get home.”

“Looks like we need to train on lying.” He smirks.

She stares at him for a moment with pursed lips then shrugs and turns back in the direction she was going.

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“No, I'd like that actually.” She murmurs.

“What are you doing in this part of town?”

“Do you follow me everywhere?”

“No…” he answers defensively playful. “I was around and saw you. Got curious.”

“You can’t send a text like a normal person?”

“Not my style.”

“Difficult is your style.”

“Hey, slow down there with the rapid-fire insults here. Did I do something?”

“Besides stalk me? No.”

“Then why are you being such a-“ he stops as she shoots her eyes his way. “Difficult person?” He tries to cover smoothly.

Once again she stares as if contemplating something. “If I tell you will you stop asking?”

“Sorry, no promises. Don’t think I missed where you didn’t answer why you’re here.”

“Fine.” She begins to walk again. “I’m here apartment hunting. Not so great street, but that apartment is really nice. And I have a fear… a phobia that you’re gonna laugh at me for so I don’t wanna tell you.”

“When have I ever laughed at you?”

She raises her brows obviously at him.

“Okay, I won’t now.” he emphasizes.

“I don’t believe you for some reason.”

“I swear! I won’t.”

“Due to… past trauma, I am afraid of the dark. And I don’t know this part of town and it makes me nervous. I’d catch a cab but I want to learn the subways so I need to walk it.”

He stays quiet for a moment. “Afraid of the dark?”

“Yes, my mom would lock me in the closet and read scripture and scare me and shit. Okay? And it traumatized me so when it’s dark and I’m overstimulated I get really... panicky.” She explains defensively.

“Don’t have to fight me over it, it’s fine. I...get it.”

“Don’t tell me you were locked in a closet too?”

“No, but he did do it to my brother. And it was a mausoleum and not a closet.”

“Fuck.” she exhales.

“Yeah. Pretty fucked up.”

“The more we learn about each other the more often we say that.”

“Get used to it.” He huffs out a laugh. They walk for a moment in comfortable silence while Eve tried to let her defenses down against him. “You know you could’ve just... asked me to come with you ya know? I am pretty handy when it comes to navigating the city. And being a bodyguard.”

“It’s not something I’m proud of.” She shakes her head. “Yeah, Diego? Hey, could you babysit me because I’m a child who’s afraid of the dark and not a grown-ass woman who can handle her own shit?”

“Well, it’s better than you almost stabbing me!”

“And whose fault was that?”

“...your moms if you want to get really technical about it.”

She lets out a weak laugh and he feels accomplished. ”Don’t forget your dad too”

“Oh yeah fuck both of them.” He says eagerly in agreement. They share a smile and he stays close to her side. “Why are you looking for an apartment?” He breaks the silence.

“Some asshole keeps breaking into mine.”

“Seriously.” He grins and smacks her arm.

“Well I’m on salary now and it’s good money so I can afford a better place.”

“Oh. I kinda like your place.”

“I don’t hate it but it’d be nice to have some more room. An office, a view.” They stand at a corner to wait for a light change. “I’d like a place with more privacy. Maybe a doorman for safety?”

“And that apartment had all that?” He motions back with his thumb.

“Yeah, it was stupid nice for the area. I was surprised it wasn’t more-“ both their heads snap to the car that passed far too fast and close, and luckily it wasn’t them, but a bike messenger up ahead that going to be the target.

They see it happen so fast, and they’re both instinctually moving towards the man that’s now on the ground and trying not to scream, holding his leg.

They were the only ones close out of the street and rush to help.

“Ah fuck, don’t call the ambulance I dont have insurance okay?”

“Well, you’re not walking anywhere like that.” Diego states obviously.

“Lucky for you I’m a Doctor. Let me see. Can you move it?” She moves his sock down to quickly see bone through skin. “Ah man, I’m sorry to tell you this but it’s really...broken dude.” She looks at him with sympathetic eyes.

“Ah fuck.” They cry. “My boss is gonna fire me for sure now. I can’t afford to get this fixed… I can’t take time off…” they begin to hiccup and tears come quickly.

Eve stares at the trauma site and furrows her brow in thought. “Maybe I can…” she whispers.

“Doc...?” she hears Diego’s voice, a warning behind her.

“I’m gonna try. I have to.” She says with wide eyes that convince him on impact. She turns back and puts her hands on the busted ankle, “Stay still if you can.” She mutters before going into her focused state.

“What are you? Listen lady I appreciate you stopping but I don’t think praying over it is gonna work.” They offer but their voice slows as they gradually feel the pain disappear. “What the…” they turn their ankle in a circle and their jaw drops. “HOW DID? WHAT DID?”

Eve shares a very excited glance with Diego before he yanks her up. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Wait no! Don’t go!” A now on their feet and the healed biker was calling out as they both ran down the street into the subway below.

She felt alive. Exhilarated. A smile on her face and hand in hand with Diego as they bobbed and swerved through the crowd.

“Did you SEE?” She calls out as they make it sliding just in time into the subway car.

“YES! You didn’t tell me you’d gotten so good!”

“I’ve been practicing!” She says out of breath and glowing from a sheen of sweat that she’d developed in the rush.

“I’d say so! You just...POOF!”

“I’ll have to show you my notes.”

“Notes?”

“I’ve been keeping track of all my attempts. Like a scientific study. Well… sort of…” she shrugs and wipes her hair back.

“You would find a way to make this nerdy.” He laughs.

“Scientific method is not nerdy!”

He laughs out loud. “That’s the nerdiest thing you’ve ever said!”

“That was awesome though right?”

“Yeah, it was risky but...awesome.” He nods in agreement as they both calm back down and move into whispers of her trial and error.

——————————-

“You just have to remember to be defensive and not just offensive.”

“You know I don’t give a shit about sports Diego.” Eve laughs as she pulls her gym bag over her shoulder.

“I’m serious! You'll get-" he insists with a whine.

"You’ll get yourself hurt when shit gets real.” She says with him and rolls her eyes. “I know! Okay?” She says with a sassy hand motioned his way. “I’ll work on it. Like I always do. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, cut me some slack.” She groans as he walks her to the front of the gym to leave.

They’re met with a thin and friendly-looking guy their age who she thought looked familiar. Diego’s body language automatically tenses.

“Oh hello there you.” Klaus coos at Eve whose bright friendly eyes don’t match Diego’s already annoyed ones at his appearance. “I didn’t know my brother would be busy with a beautiful woman tonight, my apologies.” He sweeps his hands and takes her's to kiss the back of it.

“Hi.” She stutters with surprise. “I was just leaving. Had a training session. Works got weird hours so your brother is nice enough to see me at night.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d see a lovely thing like you anytime you wanted.”

“Let her go, Klaus.”

“What is your name before our paths separate and never meet again. I’d never forgive myself for not asking.”

“It’s Eve.” She laughs. “You’re much nicer than Diego. Do you know how to fight too? Maybe you could train me since he’s such an asshole.” She motions to Diego and Klaus lets out an amused sound.

“Alas I’m fairly useless in such things but I make up for it in other ways.” He winks.

“Okay! GOODNIGHT EVE.” Diego says politely pushing her out the door. “Sorry about Klaus He's…an idiot.”

“No apologies he's rather charming.” She teases him more and waves goodbye as she exits into her cab.

“What the fuck was that?” Diego shoves his lanky brother.

“Eve hmmm? A sexy name for a sexy little-“

“Stop it.” Diego groans.

“That’s her isn’t it?” Klaus smirks and begins to float about as Diego closes up.

“Her who?”

“Your mystery doctor.”

Diego doesn’t answer hoping naively that Klaus would stop.

“Oh come on, I’m your bro, your bud. Your pal. You can tell me.” He insists with outstretched arms.

“Yeah. I’m training her.”

“She seems like she’d be the one training you if you catch my drift.”

“It’s not like that.”

“That smile you had on your face before you realized I was watching would say otherwise.” He lilts. “You’re a terrible liar Diego just don’t try.”

“I’m a great liar!” He barks back.

“You’re shit and you should just be honest with me, I AM the psychic after all.”

“You’re not psychic you see the dead and-“

“And what is the difference?!” Klaus flops just hands at his side and follows his brother upstairs.

Diego continues as if he said nothing. “You’d have to be sober to do that so so I’m not gonna hold my breath on that.”

“I actually have been. Not that you supportive lot would notice.” He prances into the apartment behind a grunting Diego. “Because your little girlfriend is causing quite the ruckus amongst the city’s dead.”

“What?” Diego asks with a raised brow.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She almost brought one back.”

“She did…” he seems deep in contemplation for a moment. “Wait so you HAVE been sober?” Diego’s eyes turn soft and Klaus groans as he’s quickly approached and hugged.

“You are missing the point here Diego dear…”

“I’m proud of you.” He says with emotion in his voice and Klaus manages a heavy sigh and a pat to his back.

“Stop it now before I have feelings…” he pats him and pushes him away. “What do we know about this Eve? She’s messing with the balance, she’s a powerful little thing. And gorgeous I might add, I’d be keeping her to myself too. Unless she was into being shared…”

“I don’t think she is.” Diego falls back into his monotone answering after a brief glimmer of earnest emotion.

“Different strokes, different folks.” Klaus shrugs. “So is that ass as breathtaking as it looked in those leggings or-?”

“KLAUS!”

“What? I’m just a red-blooded American male, I see a nice ass, I admire it.”

“I wouldn’t KNOW.” He answers from behind the doorway of his bedroom, door left open. “But I’d have to say yes.” He adds quickly.

“Ahhhh! There he is.” Klaus applauds his brother's cheeky smile. “Now that you’re not in a prudish mood, I actually do want to know about her. Details, man! Out with it! What’s my little private dick figured out on our newest sibling?”

“Ew don’t say that.”

“I knew you wanted to fuck her.” Klaus smirks.

“Jesus Klaus!” Diego groans.

“Not that it’s stopped any of us before, cough Luther, cough.”

“Hey, we’re not biological!”

“Defending Luther now? Number one? Daddy’s goodest boy? Diego’s sworn nemesis?”

“EW! No! I’m just… saying. It’s a fact so...it’s...valid.”

“Good thing you’ve got your looks hun.” Klaus tsks.

“Do you wanna know about her or you wanna talk shit and get hit?”

“So hostile.” Klaus shakes his shoulders. “Go on you party pooper, tell me about our new super doctor.”

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @jaegeeeeer @diegos-butt @anglovesthis

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fanfic #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #david castañeda

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aijee · 3 years

Text

is this a life update or a novel?

Hi all, long time no post! Nice to meet you new followers, and nice to talk to you again for those who’ve stuck around. Just as a reminder, my blog is as much of a fic blog as it is a journal for me to sort my thoughts.

In that vein, here’s a personal update. CW for mental health/anxiety, physical pain, big life changes. There’s lighter stuff at the end!

It’s been both a long and short summer for me, after deciding to quit work and focus on my mental health. I’m a millennial twenty-something whose mind, like many, is tragically crippled with the capitalistic and individualistic values America has brainwashed me with, so I’ve had a hard time coming to terms with being unemployed and depending on my parents. I’m extremely privileged and humbled to be in a family that still maintains income during unprecedented times. I’ve been trying not to let my internalized struggles turn into this self-imposed shame for partaking in pleasures (I remember second-thinking buying a digital comic book for hours). My parents often say, “We worked hard and struggled because we didn’t want our kids to do the same. Don’t feel guilty for enjoying yourself.” Nowadays, they add that I’ve worked hard during college and my post-college job; in their eyes, I’ve more than “earned” a break, especially after losing my graduation, summers, and trips.

I constantly wonder why I impose so many limitations of myself even more during a pandemic. While being aware of global struggle is important for not becoming out-of-touch, I need to remind myself that people don’t have to earn the right to play or be happy or enjoyment. Obvious lack of nuance aside, it’s crazy to think how much capitalism—largely the idea worth is contingent (work) productivity—has deformed my sense of what’s a basic human right versus what should be earned. I think I’ve mentioned in a previous post that I struggle with thinking in extremes; it’s either starvation or hedonism, and the latter earns far more societal vitriol. I think my Asian upbringing has made me hyperaware of what others could be thinking of me, regardless of how accurate those projections are. I’d fact, I rarely assumed positive opinions. Outside of external validation, I realized how poor my self-image really was. Tearing myself down before anyone else could rarely, if ever, softened the blow.

For the first time, I’ve begun to think that my life is my own and no one else’s. It sounds logical on paper, but so much harder in practice in real life, I’ve realized. This isn’t a constant or ingrained thought yet, often peaking in between longer and more familiar strings of anxiety. But it feels like an important realization during a time full of sadness and uncertainty, let alone in my lifetime at all.

And then I injured my spine.

It happened towards the end of the summer, when I was starting to feel more put-together internally. I felt so creatively productive (in avenues I don’t care to share online) and even closer to family. I had a ball revisiting old shows. I ate food I hadn’t eaten in years. And this was suddenly interrupted when, while showering, I was wracked with unimaginable, nonstop pain. I nearly passed out alone in the shower and barely managed to crawl to my bedside to call my parents; I was lucky they came home early. I couldn’t stop crying for almost twelve hours. I was terrified at the possibility that I may be paralyzed or my legs would be affected. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case, but I was bedridden and wracked with nausea. I could barely stomach anything, not even water. I couldn’t sleep. I was never brought to a hospital, either on the fear of COVID transmission. The whole time, it was so, so debilitating on a physical and mental front. My head was a nightmare.

Like a bad habit, some of my worst thoughts centered around productivity. I worried about the work I couldn’t do. I felt shameful about canceling plans with friends. I hated being helpless and not being able to take care of myself, and felt guilty for wasting other people’s time taking care of me. And yet, if I was someone else, even a stranger let alone a friend/loved one, I’d be scratching my head over why that person would think these things. Fuck work and other life plans, getting better is the most important thing because you can’t do any of those compromised activities if you’re not at capacity! Duh. Anxiety can really a number on you sometimes and it’s awful just how irrationality fuels the spiral.

I’m grateful to be back on my feet. I’m trying to hold on tightly to that victory, to this positive point that I have worked towards. It’s going to be a challenge to do my recovery exercises daily for my 2-3 month recovery period when I barely remember to floss. Moreover, I’ll be in the middle of moving and working full-time again in the next month, alongside the ridiculous anxiety over some applications and maybe interviews for a different part of my life. But I’m doing my best to take each day at a time and celebrate the good things when they come, however small. I don’t have to ace a final exam or burn my retinas studying for them to deserve victories because, hey, again, happiness is a right and I need to stop gatekeeping myself from it.

Frankly, the injury is largely why I haven’t posted sooner. I don’t think anyone should ever feel obligated to use social media when they aren't up to it. But I actually wanted to ease back into writing before I was injured, starting with this blog.

Some other positive things:

God, I missed the Avatar (Aang and Korra) series so much. What a damn good franchise, what a damn good magic system and world. IT’S. SO. GOOD, GOD. Revisiting it all and reading the comics while I was sick was the single biggest joy that kept me going. I hope the magic lingers for as long as possible.

Even in my inactivity, I’ve received some really lovely comments on my AO3. I read the emails primarily. It really warms my hear to see them. I revisited old comments recently, too, and they’ve helped keep me going and reminded me that I am capable of putting joy into the world.

I’ve taken a liking to Youtube playlist-videos and Spotify playlists that encompass a very specific story scenario, like “dancing with the villain in a masquerade ball” or “driving around the French countryside”, etc. Japanese 80′s urban pop is SO GOOD.

Smosh has been putting out such great content y’all. I was BIG on old Youtube (Nigahiga, Smosh, Michelle Phan, Jenna Marbles, etc.) and it warms my heart to see their renaissance. Amazingly entertaining and down-to-earth content. I don’t fall squarely into their demographic anymore, but the periphery is still fun.

Food is great. I love food still. I’ve eaten a lot of good food during this break. It almost pains me to go back to living by myself and eating healthier. :’(

I didn’t realize how expensive moving was. But, after living in the same apartment from sophomore uni to post-uni work, I’m moving into a bigger “adult” apartment with appropriately sized appliances instead of the mini student kind. The possibility of treating myself to a king-sized mattress and decorations is also very exciting.

It warms my heart to see people in my vague social circles indulging in home art projects, like paint by numbers and “diamond” painting. As a kid I thought “not real art” was a waste, but by god as an adult do I not give a shit about what “real art” is anymore. If it’s fun, it’s fun. That’s that!

That’s all I can think about for now.

#aijeepost

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atths--twice · 4 years

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Creating Calm

After the abduction by Gerry Schnauz, Scully is understandably not coping well. She needs some time off and perhaps a listening ear and an outlet to help bring about calm.

This was a story for a friend of mine who sent out a tweet in June. It took me longer than I would have wanted to get this one finished, but everything happens when it’s supposed to, right? I hope you enjoy it.

September 1996

Scully took off her heels with a tired sigh and placed them into her closet. The dress she had worn to church and then to lunch with her mother, was added to her dry cleaning bag. Rolling her neck, she walked into the bathroom in her underwear.

After using the toilet and washing her hands, she looked at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head, she sighed again as she reached for the towel to dry her hands. Hanging it back up, she went into the bedroom to get dressed.

Putting on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved plum colored shirt, she then put on socks and her boots. She walked out of the room, and stood in front of the hall closet door. Closing her eyes briefly, she sighed deeply.

Opening the door, she took out the large bag of items she had bought a few days ago and sighed once more. Picking up her car keys and cell phone, she walked out of the apartment, locking the door and continuing on to her car.

Driving away, she took a deep breath and glanced in the rear view mirror at the bag in the backseat. This afternoon would be the first time she tried out a relaxation technique Doctor Kossoff had suggested and she was feeling very unsure about her ability to do it.

After the case with Gerry Schnauz, she had sought out Doctor Kossoff, needing to discuss what had happened. Mulder had tried to get her to talk about it, but she had kept insisting she was fine. She knew by the look on his face that he did not believe her, but he remained silent, nodding as his eyes held hers, asking for more, but not demanding it.

Taking a few days off after the case, she did not speak to anyone, save for Doctor Kossoff. It was not just the abduction by Gerry which had caused her to seek out the doctor, though that would have been enough, but recent events as well: Queequeg being killed, the paranoia she had felt during the Patnik case, Mulder’s mother having a stroke, and other numerous stresses of the job.

Doctor Kossoff had smiled her usual smile, which had both aggravated and calmed Scully. Aggravated, because it never came with any words. Instead, she would wait for Scully to fill the silence, sharing why she had sought her out.

Yet even as she felt aggravated, she was calmed. She knew that though she hated talking about anything personal, Doctor Kossoff would not judge her or treat her differently. Going to therapy was hard and upsetting, but when Scully left, she always felt better. At least for a little while.

“Dana,” Doctor Kossoff had said at the end of their last meeting. “What ways do you find help you to relax and find calm?” She smiled and Scully stared at her, not sure she had an answer to that question.

“I… I don’t really have anything specific. I read-“

“Pleasurable books?”

“How do you mean?”

“Something you bought to simply read for pleasure and escape for a while? Not anything for work or related to it?”

“Uh… sometimes. But mostly it’s medical journals, which I do find calming, as strange as it may seem to some,” she had answered with a shrug and a slight smile. “Agent Mulder, for one, always makes a comment that I sure know how to ‘live it up.’ She had chuckled softly and shaken her head.

“Well, that is your field of expertise. And as a therapist, I understand. It’s of interest to you.” Doctor Kossoff had said with a kind smile. “But, I mean more of something you may not consider to be the norm? Do you play any sports? An endorphin rush sometimes can bring us relaxation in its own way. Or maybe you write or paint?”

Scully had looked at Doctor Kossoff, her eyebrows raised, the question remaining unanswered.

“I… I exercise, yes, but I don’t find it relaxing as much as a necessity.” She had shrugged and Doctor Kossoff nodded. “As for writing or painting… I do have a journal, a few actually. But again, it almost feels like something I need to do; my thoughts too crowded at times.”

“Understandable,” Doctor Kossoff had said, smiling kindly once again.

“Painting however,” Scully had said as she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders again. “That’s not a strength I possess.”

“It doesn’t have to be a masterpiece. It’s more of a way to turn your brain off. To relax and focus on what’s in front of you.” Scully had nodded and said she would try it and see if it helped.

On her way home from the appointment, she had stopped at a local craft store. Walking through the aisles, she had breathed in the scent of paints, oils, and canvas. Oddly enough, for someone who was not artistically inclined, she had found the place and the scents very relaxing.

Deciding on a pack of small canvases, she had continued to the paintbrushes, taking her time to find the ones she had liked best. The paints were next and she had been drawn to names like: burnt umber, yellow sunrise, hills of green, ocean blue, mocha brown, black noir, and rusty red. Nodding, she had added many different colors to her cart. Looking at everything she had picked out, she had taken a deep breath, before pushing her cart to the register.

The supplies had sat in the closet for the past couple of days, something she thought about, but had not attempted. Tomorrow was her first day back at work and so today was the day.

There was a park near her place which she would visit sometimes; a park with a decent sized man-made pond and many benches and picnic tables. She had sat on one bench in particular many times when she needed to get away and think, her apartment feeling far too suffocating.

What better place than that to try this out? she thought, although she still felt she would be terrible at this task. You have no artistic ability, Dana. This is going to be a disaster.

Arriving at the park, she turned off the ignition and looked around. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and there were not many people around, of which she was thankful.

“Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled.

Stepping out of the car, she closed her door and open the back one, taking out the large bag of supplies. The car locked, she made her way over to the benches and picnic tables. Placing her bag down on an empty table, she set the portable easel she had bought beside it.

Opening it up, she sighed as she looked at the paint and brushes inside. Looking out towards the pond she nodded her head.

Setting up the easel, she took out a small canvas, and placed it on the stand. Bottles of water, a cup, a rag, and the palette were placed on the table and she took a deep breath.

Remembering Doctor Kossoff words, she took out the tubes of acrylic paints, laying them all in a row. The blank canvas seemed to mock her, waiting to see what she would try to create.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, beginning to put the paints away, knowing she would never be able to do this properly. No chance she could find any peace if she was already anxious about making a mistake.

But then, a man walked by, carrying the same type of small easel in his hand that she had purchased. He nodded slightly at her and placed his things on the table ahead and to the left of her. He laid out his supplies and added paint to his palette. Within minutes he was painting with such confidence, she knew she could not give up so easily.

Thinking of what had always brought her calm, she began to add paint to her palette. Taking out the paintbrushes, she chose a larger one, intent on covering most of the top with a rich orange.

As she placed the brush on the canvas and heard the bristles moving across it, something happened. It was as though her mind shut off as she focused only on the colors, finding just the right one, and then blending them to create a new one before adding it to the canvas.

“That’s a real nice painting.” She heard and she jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” It was the man who had arrived and passed her earlier. He was now carrying his items in his hand, obviously finished and heading back for the day.

“Oh, not at all. I… I guess I was more focused than I thought,” she said with a smile as she set down her paintbrush. “Thank you. It’s… it’s nothing really. I…” She shrugged and looked at her painting.

“Is this your first time painting?”

“Other than when I was a child, yeah. My uh… my job is difficult,” she said with a forced chuckle. “A… friend suggested painting as a way to relax. I was actually thinking of leaving when you showed up.” She smiled at him and he looked down with a smile and a nod. “How about you? Have you been painting long?”

“Oh, no. I’ve been doing it for awhile. Sometimes it’s for just a bit, like today, or sometimes longer, when I need extra time away. It’s something I do to, as you said, help me to relax.” He smiled again and she nodded. “But, if this is your first… grown-up painting?” She chuckled and he shrugged with another smile. “It looks good. You did a good job.”

“Thank you,”she said again and he hummed, walking away and leaving her alone in the park.

Looking back at her painting, she tried to see it through his eyes and not focus on the areas she knew held mistakes. It was pretty good, if not rather basic.

Orange, yellow, red, blue, and green, were all combined to create a sunset upon the water. Where… she was not sure, but felt it was from memories of being at the beach as a child and then as she grew up, when she could appreciate it better.

Smiling, she nodded. It was not perfect but she had felt relaxed as she painted it. At her next meeting with Doctor Kossoff, she would have to admit she had been right.

Setting the canvas down onto the table, she set another one in its place. This time she painted with no plan in mind, simply adding color to an empty canvas.

As the sun began to set in earnest, she had three paint covered canvases lying on the table. Her hands had paint on them and there was a small streak of purple across the bottom of her left cheek. She was unaware of it however, as she stared at her paintings.

They were not anything that would be hung in the museum, but she had enjoyed the time she has been painting them. Sitting still, was not really her thing, but she had liked it. Her recent worries and thoughts had disappeared as the brush stroked across the canvas. The sounds of nature around her had helped as well and she felt better than she had in awhile.

Taking a deep breath, she packed up, rinsing off the brushes, wiping them dry and placing them back into the easel. The paints were added and she used the rag to wipe the palette, planning to wash both later at home. Once it was all packed up, she tested the last painting to be sure it was dry.

“Nearly,” she whispered and took another deep breath, looking around the park as the sun disappeared entirely. “I’ll just carry it.”

Gathering up all of her things, she walked out of the park and back to her car.

Arriving at home, she put the supplies away and laid the paintings on the table. Staring at them, she shook her head, still seeing the mistakes beneath the beauty. Sighing, she stepped away and went into the bathroom to start a much needed bath.

Undressing, she caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled as she wiped at the purple paint on her cheek. Pinning up her hair, she stepped into the tub, and sighed in relief, letting the warm water and the calming scent of lavender wash over her.

The phone rang as she stood in her underwear in front of the open dresser drawer and she knew it was Mulder. Not having spoken for a few days, knowing tomorrow she would be back, of course he would want to check in on her ahead of time.

“Scully,” she said, as she picked up the phone and walked back to the dresser, and heard him sigh.

“Hey, Scully,” he said quietly.

“Mulder. Hello.” She smiled as she waited, her hand on her blue satin pajama set.

“Have you eaten? Are you hungry?” She heard the hesitancy in his voice and she smiled.

“I haven’t actually. Did you have something particular in mind?” she asked, as she closed the pajama drawer and reached for pants instead. If he wanted her to meet him somewhere, she should be properly dressed.

“Welllll…” He trailed off as she heard a knock at the door and she exhaled a small chuckle.

Slipping on her pants, she quickly put on a bra, and grabbed a shirt as she walked out of the bedroom, sliding it over her head before she opened the door. She smiled at him as he stood in the hallway in jeans and a dark blue sweater, his phone still at his ear and a bag of Chinese food, which caused her mouth to water, hanging from his arm.

“How do you feel about some Chinese?” he asked sheepishly, hanging up the phone, and she smiled with a shrug.

“That would be okay, I guess.” Her stomach growled loudly and her eyes widened as she finished her sentence. His eyebrows shot up and she put a hand on her stomach.

“More than okay it seems,” he said with a chuckle, and she stepped aside to let him enter.

“I got the usual and…” She turned her head as she closed the door, to see why he had stopped talking, and saw what had caught his attention.

He was staring at her paintings on the table.

Shit… she thought, freezing before stepping forward to collect them from the table. He stopped her with a hand on her wrist, holding it lightly.

“Did you… did you paint these?” he asked her softly, staring at the paintings.

“It’s nothing. Let me move them.” She moved her hand from his grasp and picked up the paintings. He said nothing as she put them on the couch and walked back to the table.

He caught her eye and her stare was enough to propel him into action. He began to take out cartons of food and place them on the table. He turned to reach for the plates as she took out the water pitcher from the fridge and set it on the table. She added silverware as he sat down and placed two glasses on the table beside the plates.

Their plates were filled and they settled into comfortable silence, but she knew he was still thinking about the paintings. He kept glancing at her and she knew he was biding his time.

“So you… uh… the time off has been good?” he asked and she looked up at him, finding nothing but concern in his eyes.

“It has. I’ve um…” she said softly, her head down and her eyes on the table. “I… there’s been a lot that’s happened recently and I…” She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes briefly.

“Including Gerry?” he asked quietly and she opened her eyes, his own searching her face and she shook her head. He sighed, his eyes becoming harder at her denial once again and she sighed with a shake of her head.

“It’s not just that… Yes, he was the reason I took some time off, but it’s not just him. Although his name has come up most,” she said and then realized what she had done.

“Come up?” he asked and she exhaled deeply.

“I’ve been talking to Doctor Kossoff the past few days.” She kept her eyes on his and she watched them change again. His shoulders fell and he dropped his head.

“I wasn’t coping like I should have… and she was helpful the last time I spoke to her. So…” She finished with a shrug and a sigh and he raised his head, looking at her and searching her face.

“Did it help? Seeing her, I mean?” he asked quietly and she nodded slightly. He nodded back, glancing toward the couch, and she knew he was putting the pieces together.

“It wasn’t just because of the case with Gerry,” she said again and he nodded, looking back at her.

“We have a stressful job,” he said softly and she nodded, placing her folded hands onto the table and looking down. “Can I see them again?” Looking up, she stared at him, his eyes so open.

“Why?” she asked, just as softly. He smiled and stood up, glancing toward the couch again, and then looking back at her, waiting for her permission. She nodded and stood up, following him to the couch.

“They aren’t… it’s just…” She shrugged as he picked one up; the first one she had made. Watching him look at it, she felt nervous, as though she were seeking his approval.

“I like this one,” he said with a smile and she looked back at the painting.

“Thank you, but… it’s just…” She tried to take it from him, but he stopped her. When she looked at him, he smiled.

“It’s not just, Scully. I really like it. The use of colors… the richness of them coming together… it’s very calming. You did a really good job.” He continued staring at it, his eyes traveling across it, stopping in areas, and brushing his thumbs across the canvas.

“I feel like I’ve been here before… that’s weird right?” He smiled at her and she gave him a small smile in return.

“It’s nowhere in particular so… maybe you have.” She shrugged with a light chuckle.

“Can I have this?”

“What? Why would you want it?” she asked with a scoff. He looked at her and frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I? I like it, as I have already stated. It’s calming. And you made it. You made it… in an attempt to feel better after…” He looked at her and sighed, his mouth opening and closing, but no further words spoken.

“Well… I still see the mistakes I made and…”

“Stop,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “Any imperfections you may see, I don’t. And even if I did, I am an intelligent enough man to know not to say anything.” He smiled gently and she smiled back. “So can I have it?”

“You can have it,” she agreed quietly with a shrug. He nodded with a happy smile and looked at the painting again. She watched his expression change, the calm of the painting diminishing, and she knew what he was now thinking about, as it was a fear they both shared. What if her picture had come true and no one had been able to find her in time?

Her heart began to pound and her breathing increased, the fear overtaking her. But then he cleared his throat, looking at her again, his eyes holding hers. He gave her a small smile and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, she let it out and attempted a smile of her own. It was a bit wobbly, but he seemed to understand.

He brought the painting back to the table, and set it down on a chair, as they began to silently clean up their meal and put away the leftovers.

Glancing at her as they finished, he smiled as he picked up the painting. At the door, he turned around, asking one last time without words, if she was okay. She nodded with a small smile, letting him know she was, or on the path to getting there at least, and he nodded back.

“See you tomorrow, Scully,” he said softly and she let out a breath.

“Tomorrow, Mulder.”

He opened the door and walked out, closing it behind him and she walked over to lock it. Turning off the lights, she picked up her two other paintings, and brought them into her bedroom.

Propping them up on the dresser, she changed into the pajamas she had been planning to wear earlier. After using the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she got into bed and sighed.

The light from outside shone through the window and landed on the paintings. She stared at them, remembering the calm she had felt when she was painting in the park. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, the bad dreams, for that night, held at bay.

Yes, she would definitely need to tell Doctor Kossoff that her advice had been beneficial.

For both of them…

#The X Files #XF Fanfic #Post Unruhe #Therapy #Relaxation Techniques #Painting #Letting go #Finding Calm #Nature #Dinner #Sharing the pain

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joshslater · 4 years

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The Reformatory

A rewrite of jd07201990′s swimmer story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

T -1

Dear diary or however you are supposed to start.

So tomorrow is the big day. Dad and I are sleeping at a Holiday Inn at the other side of the state. Well, I'm obviously not sleeping. How could I? So I thought I should start a journal of some sort to document this experience.

Some background. Two months ago I was in a fight with Mark Samberg on the football team. It had gotten pretty bad between the football schmucks and us swimmers. The jockheads were constantly harassing us, calling us fags and prissy boys. It happened often and was getting boring. As the captain of the swim team I asked Mark to knock it off and get his players in line. Idiot as he is he tried to knock me out instead, and I lost it. In our scramble I managed to knock him down and was about to kick him in the shin when he shifted and instead I connected with his knee. Apparently it fractured. He'll be able to walk and even run, but he'll not be able to play again for years, so he lost his Scholarship.

His family sued everyone they could. Me, the school, the swim coach. In the end all the lawyers sat down in a room with a local judge and came up with something they all could agree to. Mark gets some study assistance to get his grades up, the school had this quickly brushed under the carpet, and could pretend I was never student there. Me not graduating wasn’t really a blow, as my college fund now went to pay for Mark’s education, as compensation. They were rich enough to afford it anyway, but they wanted to see punishment. I get the honor to spend the next 180 days at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where I will "participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs". They can tack on some extra days for bad behavior without going back to the judge, but essentially I get 6 months at bad boy camp for standing up to bullies.

What will I do there? No idea. The website talks a lot about work ethics and responsibility and working together with the local community. Sounds like labor camp to me. I'll guess we'll know tomorrow. But first we have to visit the hospital for a check up. My first day in prison will mostly not be in prison!

Day 1, Monday

We started with a checkup at the hospital, and man did they do a thorough job. Our appointment was at 10, but before that I had to fill out a form with 100 questions. The doctor spent more than 30 minutes doing the most extensive check I've ever had. Not only that, but after the check we had to go to the sample lab to draw blood, and finally I had a CT scan at noon. After that, and a quick lunch, we drove to the actual reformation center, which was in a smaller town 2 hours away.

It's an old boarding school building that they've turned into this "Reformation Center", and it clearly looks more like a prison than a school. Just a heap of two story brick and concrete buildings out in nowhere. Not much of security, but then everyone was there "voluntarily", meaning that we all had a proper punishment waiting for us if we left. I hugged dad goodbye and was shown to Mr. Kerwin’s office by the entrance guard.

Mr. Kerwin was a lean, ripped man in his forties that oozed military discipline. He explained that he was responsible for my rehabilitation and that he wouldn't start soft. He would give me a packed schedule, and if I didn't pull my weight he would add more days for "noncompliance". If I didn't like it I could run back to judge Stephenson and ask to start over in juvie.

Perhaps that would be better, because the schedule he showed me was totally insane.

4:30-5:00 Breakfast 5:00-8:00 Exercise pass 1 8:00-12:00 Work pass 1 12:00-12:30 Lunch 12:30-14:30 School 14:30-17:30 Work pass 2 17:30-18:00 Dinner 18:00-21:00 Exercise pass 2 21:30 Lights out

He explained that my breakfast, lunch and dinner would be pre-portioned and I was required to eat all of it. The exercise passes would be lead by himself or one of the assistants. Again, I would have to follow every instruction. The work passes were done at local businesses that wanted an extra hand, and changed depending on demand. The school passes were done as a group on whatever subject Mr. Reed selected.

Next he ordered me to get naked and place all my clothes on top of my bag and move to the other side of the room. Having done so he pointed at a stack of clothes on the table and told me to pick my size and get dressed. I quickly dressed in one of the track suits from the table. There was a baseball cap also, which confused me, but was told that it was instead of sunglasses when working outdoor.

With that I was given a rule book to study and was led by an assistant to my room where a dinner was waiting. Turkey, rice, water. I was reminded of lights out at 21:30 and wake up at 4:30. The assistant left and locked the door. 10 minutes later he came back with my journal book and pen, and told me that they'll keep the rest for now.

Having eaten the dinner and having three hours (I'm almost sure 21:30 is 9:30 PM) to kill before the lights go out I'm now summarizing the day. I'm sitting in something very similar to a prison cell. Bed, toilet, sink. Everything is clean, though somewhat worn. Looking into the mirror is kind of depressing though. I look like some jailed gang member.

It's kind of weird that I haven't met any of the other inmates, sorry students, here. I saw some of them while coming in, but perhaps this is their kind of hazing, or they do an official presentation tomorrow. Anyway, I should study the rule book and go to bed, since I didn't sleep much last night.

Day 2, Tuesday

So much to write about, so little time. I might have to split this into several entries since lights out is in 20 minutes.

I was awaken at 4:30 and given a tray with a large bowl of porridge and berries and some chalky smoothie or shake or whatever to drink. After that an assistant lead me to the gym room where we went over various machines, mainly for cardio. Elliptical, bike, treadmill. Weird thing was that it was only us two in the room during all three hours.

Sweaty and a bit tired I was then taken outside to a bus where some of the other boys where chilling. Apparently everyone else had breakfast between 7 and 8. They had no idea why I didn't join them there. The bus then drove around town and the driver announced who should exit where. My group of four people exited at a farm before town, only about 5 minutes away. I don't know exactly since I haven't been given my watch back.

There we spent hours just moving hay. Don't they know about tractors? Sweaty, itchy, tired and hungry we were then picked up and driven back. At lunch was the first time I saw the real common area. To my surprise there were more boys there than had been on the bus.

Everyone else could pick what they wanted from what was served, but I was given a ready tray with an heap of salmon and pasta. I was starving though, so it wasn't a problem to eat it all. I didn't have much time to talk, but the guys at my table were nice. Somewhat rough, as could be expected. Apparently you were chosen for the different work assignments, and if you were not picked you stayed at the center for sports or craft or similar things.

After Lunch followed a session with Mr. Reed. The first boring hour was on English grammar and the second boring hour on US geography. I aced the quizz getting all 50 states and state capitols right, so I didn't learn anything new after that. Then Mr. Reed announced who had work assignments, and I was again selected.

This time I and Troy were dropped off at a different farm where we spent almost three hours helping with fencing. Mainly carry posts and sawing them to length.

For dinner I had some meatballs with roasted sweet potatoes while everyone else had meatballs with tomato sauce. Mr. Kerwin picked me up and led me to the gym. Unlike the morning session this was all about weight training. Most of it was on finding my limits for different exercises while Mr. Kerwin pointed out how I could improve my form. You could tell that this was what he liked to do, and encouraged me to push a bit further. Once we were done I had a bottle of post workout mix of some sort and a very quick shower before rushing back to my room.

Here's the thing. My room is on a different floor than the other guys. Also, my schedule appears to be different and much more rigid than the rest of the guys. I also

Day 3, Wednesday

I couldn't finish the last entry before they cut the light. My entire body is in pain right now. I woke up like that, and it didn't go away all day. Same schedule as yesterday, but different tasks and different dishes. The assistant really pushed today during the morning session, so I was exhausted already at the bus. Planting bushes at the city park all morning didn't help. I got some rest during Reeds rehash of elementary math. Then back to doing fences, and top it all off with weight training. I asked Mr. Kerwin about the schedule and why it was so different from everyone else’s. He said that everyone's schedule is individual and that he'll adjust mine as needed.

One more weird thing before I fall to sleep. Everyone else is using their normal clothes. I haven't gotten mine back yet.

Day 4, Thursday

FUCK! I was back on moving hay today again, with Sam, Trevor and Rick. I'm still hurting like hell and Rick is one lazy motherfucker, so old fart Farmer Joe decided to complain. The end result is that I am getting 2 days added for noncompliance. Sam, Trevor and Rick got nothing. WTF!

Day 5, Friday

We were carrying merchandise all morning and Troy heckled me on how I got more days because of the piece of shit Rick. But he then said that it was a weird coincidence that every work shift I've been on has been the toughest one.

Instead of going to class I met with the doctor from the hospital who made a visit. He asked me about how I felt, where I was sore etc. Then he gave me an injection which he said would ease things for me. I didn't feel much different, but I was getting really sleepy getting back to Mr. Reeds class, but it might just be that everything he did was too simple and boring.

Apparently while I had a check up Troy had shared his theory about me being a work magnet, so there were some groans from the guys placed in my group. God damn fence work again.

Man, I'm tired. I was tired even before Mr. Kerwin gave me the toughest weight pass ever. Fuck, I'm tired.

Day 6, Saturday

So the weekend schedule is different. There is still a morning work pass, basically only used by the local farmers. But the afternoon is free both on Saturdays and Sundays. Conditions and terms applies, apparently. Since I haven't done any cleaning or dishes all week (how could I?), I'm assigned washing clothes, sheets etc. Man, how much better it is to carry laundry than hay. Best job assignment all week. Lots of downtime. Only real drawback is all the humidity. It’s steamy AF here.

Still fucking 3h workout pass in the morning and evening. The other boys were pretty vocal in mocking me on my way to the gym.

Day 7, Sunday

So the day started out as any other so far. Woke up sore. Breakfast alone and 3 hour gym session. There are no work passes outside LARC on Sundays, so I was hit with cleaning, together with Kyle G. and Rick. Rick ghosted after like three minutes, but KG did a solid work. It took us all the time til lunch though to finish it.

Then my first free couple of hours all week. It’s insane. The other guys were low key avoiding me, so I did what Mr. Kerwin had suggested and had a walk in the forest. It was actually kind of nice, and for some weird reason I didn’t feel like sitting still.

Day 8, Monday

Same shit again. Mr. Kerwin gave me a shot in the arm this evening. Apparently I’ll have one each Monday from now on. Whatever.

Also I found out today that the others don’t have formal lights out. I’m on my own floor so they can lock me up and cut the power. What the fuck?

Day 9, Tuesday

That fucker Rick slacked off again, taunting me about another two days. Ha! I got 10. Mostly for kicking him in the teeth. They locked me in my room, so I had lunch there and sat in this boring ass cell during class and work. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. I had to do some body weight exercises to keep sane. Fuck this shit.

Back again. I still got to have my evening workout. Kerwin was pushing harder than ever. The order of exercises was different too. Apparently to make the major muscles tired so smaller muscle groups then get to work. Or something. I don’t give a shit.

Day 11, Thursday

They fucking work now, don’t they the little shits. They know I ruined someones career to get here and another one for slacking off. They better pull there weight

Day 14, Sunday

I think I’ll stick to just write on Sundays. There is only half an hour from evening gym to lights out, so there isn’t much time for writing. I’ve even skipped shower a few times. It’s not like it matters when you start every fucking day getting soaked with cardio. Not like there are any girls around to impress either. Sunday has a different vibe tho. Cleaning, running in the forest and taking a long shower.

Starts and ends with fucking gym time though.

Day 21, Sunday

I really fucking like the forest runs. Its like you don’t have to think and can just run wherever and grab whatever and smash whatever. Fucking love it

Day 28, Sunday

Yay! A full fucking month!

It’s crazy though how much stronger I’m. I have gone up one size larger track suite and 2 sizes larger sneakers. Working hard to make me the best I guess.

Day 42, Sunday

guess i forgot about writing last week. i think the monday shots make me angry or something because last week fucked up someone else on tuesday. at least they all give me fucking respect at least.

Day 92, Monday

i dont give a shit abot reeds borin ass lessons and they fuckin repeat on a loop or some shit. today he was back on gramr and the states. i most time dont fill out his shit but wanted to do it again today. fucking aced most of the states. not so good on the capitols tho

Day 203, Sunday

only 2 weeks left tomorrow lol then im gonna yeet the fuck outta here !!!! adios motherfuckas

Mr. Kerwin enters the room, carrying a folder, and walks behind his desk, not even looking at me. I am sitting in his precious fucking antique chair I pulled from the corner. He’s sitting his ass down, rifles through the papers in the folder and starts to read from one of them.

“John Hamlin agrees to 180 days of rehabilitation training at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where he will participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs, with a possible extension of 30 days for noncompliance and a possible extension of 60 days for infractions as described by the Juvenile Rehabilitation Act (JuRA), section 1103 (b).”

He looks up at me. It sounded like easy shit when I said yes to it. I thought half a year in a bad boy summer camp, or worst case something like prison, but that would have been miles better than this fucking non-stop hard labor shit. And 180 days was a fucking joke. They never fucking intended that to be the actual time. Have someone else slack off and the slap another 2 days to the time. Kick a chair to pieces, 5 days. Punch a guy for being a cunt, 10 days. I’m close to having another fucking outburst again. It must be all that fucking shit they put in the food or shakes or whatever. I fight it. I don’t want to show any emotion in front of him. I don’t think he buys my shit.

“There is another document in the agreement that you haven’t heard. This one between Mark and judge Andrews.”

He pulls out another paper from the folder and read it.

“The state hereby directs Mark Samberg, or person(s) by him so designated, to design and oversee the rehabilitation program of John Hamlin to be administrated at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center. This includes physical exercises, physical therapy, education, consoling, dietary plan and medication, as long as it fulfills the positive development criteria (Appendix D), is within the available services at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center (Appendix A) and within the given budget (Appendix C). Additional services require external financing and approval from the Reformation Center management (Appendix B).”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why the hell had the judge put Mark in charge of my schedule? I understand why he’d want to make the experience suck as much as fucking possible for me, by why had everyone agreed to it? Kerwin looks at me as if he can read an open book.

“You are wondering what has happened to you. What was the meaning of all this? Stand up.”

I jump to my feet. There are still weeks he can add to my time here, and I don’t want to give him any fucking reason to add some shit.

“Stand with your feet as close together as you can.”

He’s never asked me to do that before. I can easily tap me feet together, but I can’t really stand still with my feet right next to each other for long. What the fuck is this bullshit? My thighs are too massive for that.

“Sit down again.”

He leans back and watches me with a bemused smirk.

“Imagine that you’d been away from swimming half a year. Even if you kept in shape it would take you months to be back in good enough technique to clear the swim team tryouts. But you have not kept in shape, have you? You have a completely new shape.”

The blood is draining from my face. I understand where this is going.

“With your upper body build you can physically really only do butterfly strokes properly, but if you can’t bring your feet together the leg kick will just be a wild thrashing of water. You swimming medley would be a hilarious joke. We haven’t even talked about you almost doubling in weight, and how much more oxygen you would need to swim. Sure, you are much stronger now, but old you would swim circles around new you. And that is of course the point. If Mark couldn’t have his sports career, he didn’t want you to have yours either. And the judge agreed.”

I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t break, as hard as I’m squeezing it. I’m boiling with fucking rage. I have to really focus to not to act on it.

“Now the judge specifically set out that this transformation couldn’t be punishment in itself, but rather that you were trained in a way that just wasn’t optimal for swimming. We may have gone a bit overboard with the body building to leave you many options though. You’ll obviously never be competitive in anything with speed or agility, like football or boxing. The metabolic conditioning, hormone treatment and gene therapy have far to long lasting effects to change you back from where you are now. You could try wrestling or weight lifting though, unless you mind showing your erection through spandex.”

“What the fuck?”, I said, as much as a general question to all the things he’d said. What does metabolic conditioning mean? Gene therapy? Erections?

“The medical regimen that Marks family found for you kind of put the feet on both the gas and the break at the same time. It forces the body to grow a lot at the same time as we try to stop it, so it has to try even harder. By injecting stem cells with the right CRISPR-modified DNA we could get rapid, major and long lasting changes. Well, I say we, but all I did was to make sure you kept to the exercise regimen, for a little cash on the side… Surely you didn’t think you got larger feet and dick from eating much and working hard?”

I don’t understand exactly what they done to me, but the result is pretty fucking clear. There was no way I would swim competitively ever again, if I could even fucking swim at all now. I would come out of here looking like a fucking balloon animal muscle jock, and shedding the muscles back to where I were would take shitloads of years.

“The hormone treatment finished two weeks ago and last blood sample shows that your natural hormone levels will keep you muscled and pumped probably well into your forties. So this morning I also cut you off from all suppressive medication as well. That is going to spike your hormone levels and mess quite a bit with you, so we need to see just how badly fucked up you are before we can release you.”

“The good doctor say that you’ll be more irritable and have more excess energy than before. Both something you can work on with regular, hard exercise. But I want to see where you really are at now, so starting today you’ll have no required gym time and labor passes. You can wake up when you want, eat what you want and do what you want.”

“You said erections?”, I asked.

“Yeah, the suppression medication should have kept you limp. You haven’t jacked off while here, have you? Well, you heard what I said about gas and break and compensation. Your body has been pumping massive amounts of hormones into your blood, and will continue to do so. But now that you don’t have the suppressives anymore you should expect to be horny for the next decade or two. You’ll be nothing but a lumbering muscle dildo.”

There’s a crack somewhere inside the wood of the armrest. Fucking fourteen more days, I have to remind myself. Don’t fuck any shit up before then. If I let go of the chair I’m quite positive I will knock him the fuck out. Fourteen fucking more shit days.

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leothelionsaysgrrrr · 3 years

Note

🌹🍁🌿🌾🌺 for Silver and Rexus.

🌹 Where in the world does your OC feel most at home? Is there any reason why? If it’s not the place they were born, where were they born? Is there a certain somebody that makes them feel at home where ever they may be? What does home mean to them?

The answer is actually the same for both of them, though it takes some time before the reason is the same: The Ivory Oasis, the upscale pleasure house where Silver works. It’s a brothel, yes, but the whole point of the place is to be ridiculously comfortable. It’s lavishly furnished and impeccably maintained, and boasts a luxurious bathhouse, a natural hot spring, a beautiful courtyard with a pool, any and everything anyone could ever want to relax. The culture there is all about looking out for and taking care of each other - it’s meant to be an oasis for the workers as well as the clients. Alba, the madam, has a bit of a soft spot for taking in strays and giving them work and a free place to live and free food and access to all the nice things about the place, and both Silver and Rexus have been those strays at one point or another.

(Under the cut because I have feelings about this)

Silver - then known by his real name, Adrian - came to Minrathous from his hometown in eastern Tevinter (near Carastes) when he was 18. His father cast him and his mother out after his linea sanguinis - a coming-of-age thing for Tevinter nobles that involves what’s basically a blood magic paternity test, and is QUITE embarrassing if you were unaware that your kid is not really your kid - and rather than stay with his mother he chose to go to Minrathous on his own. None of his plans for what to do when he got there panned out, so he ended up on the streets for some time until one of the Oasis’s courtesans, Aularia, brought him there and convinced Alba to take him in.

Rexus, meanwhile, born and raised in Minrathous, was the legitimate son of noble parents, but to his father’s great dismay never manifested magic. He first came to the Oasis as a client, though he knew and had been assisted by Alba before during his own post-disowning time on the streets. Though he befriended Silver shortly after the latter became a courtesan and became an almost controversially frequent tesseratus (a client personally invited by a courtesan by gifting them special coins unique to that courtesan called tesserae that could be exchanged for their services) Rexus didn’t come to live there until 9:38, when Silver found him drunk and in despair in the Free Marches and brought him back to help with his work smuggling escaped slaves out of the Imperium and make amends for the life he’d lived before.

Silver considers Alba a highly respected and beloved mother figure, but he and Rexus are kind of each other’s person that always feels like home? There are a lot of reasons and most of the time no one really understands what exactly their relationship even is, but it comes down to a lack of pressure to be anything but themselves and just being incredibly comfortable with each other. Even if all they do is to have some drinks and talk shit with each other, it’s like kicking off your shoes at the end of the day and settling down into a cozy chair with your legs flung over the sides. They’re happy, they’re safe, they’re wanted. That’s home to them.

🍁 Where does your OC go when they need to have some time to themself? Would they ever have their own “comfort corner” filled with all the things they like? Do they have a favourite spot outside that feels like its theirs and theirs alone?

Silver takes a bath. His bedchamber is probably more private than the bathhouse, but for Silver, ‘time to himself’ isn’t the same as ‘time alone’. He likes time to himself. Time to himself is sitting in a hot, lightly scented bath with a glass of wine, where he can see out into the courtyard, observing people but not necessarily interacting. Or, it’s his morning exercises in the courtyard - again, among people, but doing his own thing and not interacting. Time alone is being in his bedchamber with all the doors and windows shut, unable to see or hear people, just him and his thoughts. He does not like time alone. Aside from his bedchamber he doesn’t really claim an area of the Oasis as ‘his’, though he easily could. He could ask to rearrange the entire place to suit his fancy and Alba would see it done, but he’d never make such an imposition. He prefers existing among everyone else there as opposed to making them exist around him.

Rexus SEEMS like he would take the same approach and want to be around people (read: bothering them) instead of spend time alone, having been alone most of his life, but where Silver genuinely likes People in a broader sense, Rexus really doesn’t. He likes attention. Which explains why he likes Silver so much; Silver is probably the most ridiculously attentive person in existence, and he’s a frequent go-to for wind-down time. Otherwise, his time to himself changes a bit pre- and post-exile; before, ‘needing time to himself’ meant finding someone to take to bed and otherwise ignore, watching the harbor from his balcony, and drinking, a lot. After, a combination of needing to lie low and actually wanting to do and be better mean he’s a lot more comfortable with himself, by himself. He’ll still sit in a crowded tavern or find a place to chill for a while that overlooks the harbor and watch people to pass time, but he won’t feel as much of a need to interact. He’ll be more comfortable with introspection, as well, and will be able to just lay in his bed in his room at the Oasis, stare at the ceiling, and contemplate.

🌿 What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

(I’m only answering this one for Silver because someone else asked it about Rexus and you have to share :P)

Like I said in the previous answer, Silver is a consummate caregiver and therefore ridiculously attentive. He’s always on the lookout for things he can do, needs he can meet. He’ll bring things like drinks, snacks, blankets, etc. without being asked. He listens intently when people talk, remembers, and either makes sure to have things they said they liked next time he sees them, or will bring up things they said later. He LOVES drawing baths for people - every patron at the Oasis has to bathe before...activities...and Silver loves working out what is best for each individual person in terms of temperature, herbs and oils to add to the water, just figuring out how to best help them relax.

🌾 Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them.

Silver:

“He’s such a terribly silly man. My love would have you believe it has taken knowing me, of all people, for him to care as he does, to give as he does, to risk as he does, but you mustn’t believe him. No matter all his pretty words, I’m not so special to make him the man he is. One does not...just become that. I don’t pretend to know him before he came here, but...I think he was always like this. Silver loves with all of him as naturally as he breathes, and that, he did not learn from me. I think he has always felt keenly how others need what he can give, and he has always had the strength and the will to give it. All I have done is believe him that he could.”

- Aularia, his late lover who he credits with the inspiration to begin his secret humanitarian work as his masked alter ego, Sen.

“👉 👌”

- Rexus. It’s his way of saying he can’t put into words how much Silver’s kindness and enduring faith in him has meant to him, how inspiring and uplifting he is, what beautiful hair he has, and how very lucky he is that this man has chosen to, despite shit like this, love him so very much.

Rexus:

Rexus is a jewel in the armoire of my soul. He smells always of the sweetest, purest honey, and I should dearly love to bathe him in a basin of warm milk, sprinkled with lavender and vanilla, that he might leave such sweetness behind. I titter thinking of how the soft whiskers of his beard tickle at my nose, my lips, my...ears. Such songs I could sing of his unparalleled grace and beauty, but who would hear them? They would die. Of longing. Immediately. I am surprised I have not died of longing for him already myself. Oh, but such sweet fortune that I may look upon him in all his splendor in my bed each night, unhindered by fine cloth for which I paid much coin solely to drape just so around his pleasing curves, and marvel at the sight of his plentiful body hair, which I envy spectacularly.

- an excerpt from, supposedly, Silver’s journal, though Silver does not keep a journal and the handwriting clearly belongs to Rexus himself.

🌺 What does your OC do to calm down when they’re scared or after a nightmare? Do they have any special comfort items or need to be reassured by a specific person? How do they handle this if they’re alone?

Silver has to deal with this more often than he likes to admit. Poor guy’s cursed with an imagination just about as vivid as Lux’s, but instead of making up fun stories his just torments him. He worries a lot about a lot of people, and that he’s putting in a lot of effort that will ultimately end up meaningless. When he needs to calm down at night, he gets up and gets a glass of water, makes tea, or goes for a swim. Water is always soothing to him in one form or another, even if he doesn’t drink it and just like...stirs his finger in it for a while, it’ll help him feel better. Someone’s always up and about at the Oasis, so he might seek them out to chat idly for a while; he loves the interaction and the others like feeling seen by him. He might write a letter, usually to Emma, as he doesn’t see her anywhere near as often as he’d like, or read an old one. Sometimes the refugees he helps send him coded messages a while later to let him know how they’re doing, and those have proved invaluable to him more than a few times to let him know he’s doing good work and really making a difference.

Rexus gets angry when he’s afraid, because he shouldn’t be letting whatever’s affecting him affect him, and he is, of course, terrible at coping by himself. He paces, rambles loudly, drinks, throws things, is prone to saying really mean stuff, just isn’t at all pleasant to be around when he’s afraid unless you know how to solve whatever’s bothering him or can convince him he’s being stupid. Silver is, of course, usually good at this, as is his partner Tyranos (belongs to @lavellanlove), and surprisingly Emma was too when she was with him. His mother, Atilia, can be this for him to a degree, but only during and before TSU when telling her his problems meant she’d pull strings to get them to go away with minimal effort from him. Alone he just drinks until he passes out and forgets about it.

Got any more?

#soft oc asks #ask: silver #ask: rexus leventis #i have feelings about all of this thanks :P #as per usual i have written WAY too much #lol thanks friend :)#bladeverbena

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set-in-stone-writing · 4 years

Text

16. LUCUBRATION

@severine-savage, @loadedmemory, @dragons-ire, @kinari

When Otolin rises, the first thing he does is reach for the small brown-and-black leather book at his bedside table.

From there, he begins to fill it out meticulously with his agenda for the day, whether it be the usual tasks or something new to accomplish. Throughout the day, he’s sure to cross off each task as it’s tackled and even adds notes here and there. It’ll be a good thing to reference in the future.

There are others like it, of course, also filled to the brim with copious notes and entries like a journal. Each one has been placed in the drawer of the bedside table, neatly organized by date and time and stacked on top of one another.

Before he does fill out, he does take a moment to reflect on the previous day’s entry.

As he reads it over, a small smile presses itself over his face:

5:30 AM Wake up.

5:45 AM Meditate. Deep breathing followed by stretching.

6:30 AM Morning exercise. Run.

Ran into a pack of coeurl out near central Thanalan. They were not happy that I accidentally stumbled upon them. No problem. Just upped the pace a little.

8:00 AM Continue morning exercise. More meditation and stretching.

9:00 AM Clean up around the kitchen and living room.

10:00 AM Cook breakfast for Severine.

She woke up a little earlier than usual today. Helped me clean up. Kept breakfast light, but flavorful. Able to use some of the fruit we bought from the market over the weekend.

11:30 AM Head into the office.

11:33 AM Arrive at the office.

The walk to the office is still only three minutes. No dilly-dallying*.

* Good use of this word.

11:35 AM Arrive at my desk. Review paperwork and potential job offers.

Not much paperwork today. Some offers, and a few that are long standing. Need to talk with Severine and Breandan about those.

1:00 PM Check in on Breandan over linkpearl.

Lily came by with some coffee and scones. She has been a wonderful addition to the free company. Sounds like she’s getting along well with Severine. Nice to see.

1:15 PM Continue to review paperwork and potential job offers.

Ate two scones instead and proca procrastinated. Still do not want to use the h-word to describe my feelings on paperwork.

2:00 PM Check in on Breandan over linkpearl.

He’s doing fine. Might be in Ishgard. Might be somewhere else. I trust him to take care of himself. I remember when he used his abilities to cause an explosion during one of our forays into eastern Thanalan last year.

NOTE: Reminder to meet with Breandan and ask him further about Ishgardian Dragoons. Should consult with Silvestre again too. Reminder to not let them kick others. Ever.

They can kick me. I can handle it.

3:00 PM Visit with Severine.

She’s working on some new material. Let me be her audience, and I applauded with much gusto*.

* Good use of this word.

4:45 PM Closing time at the office.

Had some last-minute visitors, children from a few houses down. They wanted to see our fountain, and asked “if it was a real dragon”. I told them it wasn’t, and they were disappointed.

REMINDER: Tell the children next time it was a real dragon. Imagination is important.

4:48 PM Arrive home.

The walk home is still three minutes. We really lucked out, didn’t we?

4:50 PM Late afternoon nap.

6:00 PM Wake up from a late afternoon nap.

6:05 PM Read “The Eorzean Dictionary, Vol. 5”.

To someone who might read this journal that isn’t me, this probably seems incredibly odd. I do look over the dictionary here and there to pick up and practice new words, to ‘spice up’* my vocabulary.

* Severine will be pleased I used this ‘turn of phrase’.

6:45 PM Finish reading. NOTE: Make sure to mark your place. You have that fancy moogle bookmark!

I learned the word “lucubration” today. It means ‘study; meditation’ or ‘a piece of writing, typically a pedantic (you know this word) or over elaborate one’.

7:00 PM Talk with Severine about dinner.

Instead of figuring out what we were going to have for dinner, I told Severine about the word “lucubration” and she wouldn’t stop laughing. A total fit that had her rolling on the couch and nearly crying.

I thought for a moment I had done something wrong, and then realized I said “lubrication” instead!

This was entirely unintentional.

7:15 PM Prepare dinner.

Dinner wasn’t prepared. We ended up ordering out from a local place. This was a good idea.

8:00 PM Continue to read “The Eorzean Dictionary, Vol. 5”.

No reading was done. I think I’m going to be ‘hitting the hay’ a little early this evening.

#writing #severine sauvageot #silvestre vigneaux #breandan ducaille #otolin stone #FFxivWrite2020 #red lily #writing prompts

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vishalmeena · 3 years

Text

A not so fine Morning.

The Sun is right above the horizon, slowly beginning to rise. People have started arriving in the park. This morning breeze is tempting me to add a layer of wool over my body. I don't understand why people like it? The sun is staring right at you but it still feels chilly. I can see some kids playing beneath the happy tree, while the birds on its branch are looking for prey to drop good luck on them. There's also this group of Elderly people doing that annoying laughing exercise. Don't they know how absurd they look while doing it? No joke could possibly crack them up this hysterically. For how long are you willing to fake it. Won't you get tired? And now there’s one more pair of love birds who have decided to wake up early in the morning to hang out in the park. Do they think they are invisible? Everyone sees you when you two birds jog synchronously. And her mum says, "My daughter is such a fitness freak, she is preparing every morning for next month's City Marathon." Bhabhi Please! Your daughter wasn't there last Saturday when they organized World Health Day, where was this motivation then? Aunty doesn't know that Aakash wasn't in town that day, Otherwise, her daughter would be ready to flex on that day as well. Most of these people showing up in the park are really just to show off, nobody's really there to get a healthy body anymore. I mean, if you really cared about your health, how come the vendor who sells Panipuri outside the park is getting richer by the minute. I think even he earns more than me now. Gets paid to receive eye tonic and here I am stuck in the job which breaks me every day. Why do I always get stupid clients? I mean how many changes you're going to ask for huh? First, finalize the things you want in your project, then come to me. I'm done working at this place of zero hope, things never change here. It has been more than two years now and I am done doing the same stuff over and over. I need to find myself a better job. You know, once I get my due increment, I'll quit.

The Alarm rings, "beep beep.. beep beep.. beep beep beep"

Ah! not again, you can't wake me up more than I already am, stupid phone. I don't even need to wake her up anymore. At this hour, She's probably going back to her tent or a houseboat. But, why does she always have to go places like these? I get that the work she does is really important, probably, even world-changing stuff and these forests of Amazon is might just be the best place for the research but at least go to a place made for humans. You're living in a dangerous place with wild animals in a 1960 era forest where cell phones don't have reception. What makes it even more frustrating is not being able to anything about it.

I know it shouldn't be bothering me much, after all, we did agree to do this together but damn this is killing me. At this point, I know my brain doctor brother would say, "What you're feeling right now is normal. When you were together, your body was producing Oxytocin at high levels, but now your body has quit delivering a plenitude of serotonin, oxytocin, and so forth, and to exacerbate the situation, the chemicals that your body does produce continue to be processed so quickly it's as if they were never there. But don't worry, your body will adjust to it in some time."

Now, how is this any different from saying, "Don't worry, everything will be fine in some time." But, No! You need to say these difficult terms to prove that you're smarter than me. This whole situation sucks actually. Nothing makes sense anymore, even the article I read online did not help. I don't know who these articles cater to, certainly doesn’t change anything for me. And they always write them with such confidence that It's gonna turn around the reader's whole life. As if just writing in bullets will make people understand everything.

⦁ Try meditating to help ease the distress.

Doesn't meditation require you to have a calm mind? Well if I could keep my mind calm I wouldn't be reading this article in the first place.

⦁ Try expressing emotions through journaling, drawing, or music.

Well not everyone here is a Picasso. And even he made silly paintings, some of them don't even make sense. If he was a millennial, his Instagram page wouldn't even have 100 followers.

⦁ Consider doing something kind, either for your loved one or for someone else in their honor.

Yeah right, I donated ₹ 5000 last year to the PM Cares fund, I don't even know if any good came out of it. The migrant laborers still had to travel the distance by themselves, if they couldn't find a place in Sonu Sood Depot. It'd been better if I had personally donated that sum directly to our maid and her family.

⦁ Keep track of thoughts to share later.

Hmm... Wouldn't it be too much? I mean if I started making list, it would go on forever. There's a lot that I would like to share with her. I can practically imagine her going in a fit of laughter hearing all these crazy stories I have for her.

⦁ Focus on positive memories, such as shared jokes or trips you took together.

Okay, let us try this. I guess we had few good memories, them Late-night walks, all those improv games we used to play together. Us meeting after a long vacation, just like when Noah and Allie reunite in The Notebook, minus the rain and the breathtaking scenery. And damn her weird Oreo coffee, I can't forget that combo even on my deathbed. Maybe I should try making that?

Umm... It's a little too sweet but I like it. I'm sure she would kill to have this coffee right now. It's pure bliss to be sipping this coffee at this time. Sun is comfortably up, the breeze feels nice now. Aakash & Avni are still here, it's cute how they manage to sneak in these meetings, they're definitely gonna look back on these silly teenage years & cherish it once they're my age. Love is certainly in the air & I blame them little birds' songs. Those Old fellas are finally sharing real laughs now, sitting in the circle sharing stories older than me. It's amazing how they have managed to stay together for all these years. That's true friendship right there. Maybe I should make plans with my friends for the weekend as well. Okay Google, open WhatsApp.

#breakup #aestethic #mindfulness #funnyrant #feel good

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mohtivations · 4 years

Photo

The last time I wrote something like this was probably two years ago, so I thought that I would give an updated overview of how I organize my bullet journal. I wonder how much my system has changed, but also I don't think it's changed that much because the way I set it up worked for me hm. You can find my first one here.

Once again, disclaimer, there are multiple ways to set up your bujo!! This is just what works for me, so I hope I can share some inspiration, but honestly the best system is the one that works for you !!

Here's v.02 of how I set up my bullet journal at the start of each month, college edition (but honestly not much has changed I just have less structure because college is definitely a lot LESS structured than high school).

Tumblr has also changed a lot in the six years I've been on the platform, but it's a nice record of my growth I guess.

Color Scheme

My months usually have two shades in a certain color. Flipping through my old spreads, they're usually a cool tone, I switch between blue, purple, and pastels. If I'm feeling adventurous, I might opt for a green or orange theme, but that depends on what the theme is. Previous ideas include: clouds, lavender, leaves, berries, flowers, etc.

Quote Typography

I usually grab a short and sweet inspiration phrase or lyric, most definitely by BTS. That hasn't changed. Before writing it out in my actual bujo, I test out a few different styles on a scrap piece of paper and scroll through Pinterest or IG if I need some inspiration. This page usually ends up having some washi tape, mini doodles based on the month's theme, and stickers (I have way too many from that one Japan trip).

Title

Just like for the quote, I'll test out a style on a scrap paper, add a few doodles, and also include a mini calendar on the lower half of the page. The calendar has important dates (birthdays, exams, breaks) circled in with one of the two accent shades. Pretty straightforward, but sometimes this page ends up taking the longest, as I try to doodle something fancy (my drawing skills are still very subpar).

Habits

I got these super convenient calendar washi tapes from Japan, so I've just been cutting them and using them to fill in my habits. I use to have WAY TOO MANY habits to track, including sleep. It started to feel overwhelming to maintain, and I did not have that much motivation in me. I narrowed down to eight habits that are pretty basic and essential for taking care of my mind and body. I'll switch out a habit if I realize it's not relevant or important anymore. For example, I removed taking Chinese meds when I finished my prescribed batch. Right now, my habits include: eat healthy, workout, read, save money, self-study finance, study Chinese, poop, and exercises for my scoliosis).

Favorites

Usually leave three or four shapes, based on the month's theme, blank, for me to eventually fill out throughout the month. Nothing too fancy about this page.

Intentions

Instead of goals, I "rebranded" this spread because I wanted it to represent something more long-lasting. In other words, practices and actions that I can hopefully incorporate and evolve into a part of my lifestyle. During quarantine, I know I shouldn't be too hard on myself, so a few of my intentions include:

Listening to my body and practicing intuitive eating

Staying in contact with friends. Don't shut yourself out and fall into a too well-known hole

Move your body when you feel like it! Take a walk in nature! Play badminton with the fam!

Read those books you've been forever putting aside because you were busy

Thoughts

Completely blank at the start of the month, this page is essentially a place for my rants/journal entries. It's nice for me to know that I have a designated space when I have a strong urge to just pour out how I'm feeling or what I've experienced. Cathartic.

Sentences

I write down a sentence each day, usually two lines per day in my notebook. I love rereading my sentences in my old bullet journal, it really transports me back to another era of my life. It's always nice to record whatever made me smile or memorable event on a certain day–I know I would definitely forget later down the road.

Eats

I basically record what I eat every day. I have two columns on each page, and each day has four lines: breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack. This routine helps keep me accountable and conscious of what I'm putting in my body, which is especially difficult when we're cramped up at home all day...

Weekly Spread

So I don't actually set this up at the start of each month. I might paste in a few printed pictures or polaroids to spice up the week, but since I don't really have any foresight on what's to come in the following week, on a day to day basis, I let the spread develop as I check in with my bullet journal every day.

That doesn't mean I don't have another method of keeping track of events and assignments. For that, I use my computer, since it lets me adjust and modify if needed. I am a very dedicated advocate for Google Calendar to track my day's events, and for Notion to track my upcoming deadlines. Honestly love Notion–great and free for all students!! All you need is plug in your .edu email.

And that about sums it up. Since I'm in the engineering school, I haven't actually written properly in so long. I feel like I don't know how to write anymore LOL. Hope this was helpful!!

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