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missmaywemeetagain · 1 year

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Moonlight, A Pink Scarf Universe Story

A/N: So, I was challenged to do a prompt game, and since I'm desperately trying to fight my perfectionism and become more consistent with my writing, I took on the challenge and wrote this dramatic little heartbreaker this afternoon just under the wire like crazy person. I hope you enjoy this short, barely edited extension of Pink Scarf. It takes place a few months after the Christmas 1960 flashback in Part 16. (Please go easy on me because it is literally the least revised/edited thing I've ever put out and I desperately hope you like it 💗)

Thanks to @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @be-my-ally and @vintageshanny for challenging me to do this even when I wanted to convince myself I couldn't do it.

Prompt: “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people.”

Rating: PG-13 || Word Count: 2k

TW: Miscarriage, medical trauma, angst, depression, intrusive thoughts

Moonlight

Hawaii, March 1961

The room is pressing in on you with all these jovial faces, celebrating in paradise after Elvis’ successful benefit concert for the Pearl Harbor Arizona Memorial. You should be celebrating with them.

You wish you could.

Instead, you are fighting back tears, praying that no one notices your frantic need to escape the otherwise wonderful atmosphere.

Elvis decided to bring you all along for a month-long vacation of sorts as he films his newest picture, Blue Hawaii, and performs the benefit concert to raise money for the Memorial. Y’all need some rest and recreation, he’d said joyfully, his eyes falling on you in particular, and how could you possibly refuse? It genuinely seemed like a great idea, even though he’d technically be working, and so would Jack by extension, but a change of scenery would do you some good after everything that's happened. Maybe you and Jack could reconnect on the tropical getaway, you’d thought.

But so much had happened since you agreed to this trip.

No one knew, of course. Not Jack. Not your family. Certainly not Elvis. You had made sure of it because you couldn’t stand the hopeful looks that would have come with the news, and the inevitable pity that would’ve come after.

The humid Hawaiian air coupled with the room full of people makes you feel as though you can’t draw a full breath. Lightheaded, you push your way through the throng of people filling the lavish home that had been rented for the express purpose of Elvis being able to stay comfortable and private during his shooting schedule. It’s an incredible relief once you burst out onto the patio, then stumble down the sandy path to the breathtaking beach.

Surprisingly, there’s not a soul on the moonlit sand, and for that you are eternally grateful because you cannot hold back your choked sobs any longer. The ebb and flow of the surf crashes over your crying, and you very much wish you could drown your sorrows in the vastness of the ocean in front of you.

Getting pregnant again was not even something you thought was possible. It was cruel, you thought, that you’d nearly made it 12 weeks this time before your body decided that it would reject the baby. You had just started to really, truly think it would be different this time. You were getting ready to tell Jack. You were almost, almost happy.

Even more cruel was that it was almost a year to the day of you bleeding out on the floor of the Rollerdome.

In some ways you’d been thankful that everyone had been so busy preparing for the trip that no one paid much mind to the fact that you locked yourself in the bathroom for hours, silently sobbing through the cramping and the bleeding and the clotting. You’d known then it was too late.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you hug your knees and begin to rock in the soft sand. At least it’s beautiful here, you think absently, trying to soothe yourself.

You’d taken to bed, claiming a bout of food poisoning, and no one was the wiser, being as excited and busy as they were. Not one of them seemed to bat an eye or think it was strange that no one else had any symptoms. A small part of you breaks a little at that, feeling more alone in the world than you ever have. But another part figures it’s just as well. Perhaps it is a blessing that no one knew of your latest failure. Honestly, you so were disappointed in yourself over it all you didn’t think could handle that disappointment from others, especially Jack.

Two days after losing your second child, you’d gotten on the plane to come here, spending hours upon hours with a false smile spread across your features. Maybe if you smiled enough you’d start to believe it. After all, you were in paradise with Elvis Presley. Millions would kill to be where you are.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Be grateful for what you have, you berate yourself, as you have more than once on the trip. Not even the stunning beauty of the island has been able to push your thoughts away from your loss, your seemingly unending sorrow permeating even the most beautiful of sunsets.

The only moment when you’d felt truly free of it had been watching Elvis’ concert earlier. He was so mesmerizing that it was impossible not to be caught up in his performance. You’d been happy for the momentary distraction, for the way your heart had flip flopped a little at the sight of him in his element, sweaty and feeding off the crowd effortlessly. It was easy to get swept away amongst all the screaming fans, to understand why the man you’d called a friend was the sensation that he was, and to forget everything but him for just a little while.

But by the time this stupid afterparty rolled around, the dark cloud that followed you this past year found you once more, and you were honestly too tired to push it away any longer.

You can’t help thinking how you should have an infant with you now, that in a kinder world you’d have your baby and perhaps another on the way. But the world is not always kind. Instead you are empty and alone.

So you find yourself sobbing on a gorgeous beach in Hawaii in the middle of the night, finally allowing yourself to sit in the grief of your misfortune.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been out here before his tall, lanky frame towers over you, interrupting your grief so suddenly that you find yourself livid.

You furiously swipe the tears from your cheeks, knowing your makeup is smearing but not having the energy or wherewithal to care. “Do you mind? I came here to get away from other people,” you snap.

Even in the darkness, you see how taken aback he is by your anger, his pretty face shifting from surprise to annoyance.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who brought you to this beautiful place?” Elvis says lightly, but you can hear the edge in his tone. He’s not used to people speaking like that to him, least of all you.

Honestly, you’re not really sure when you last spoke to him at all. Since your strange little embrace on Christmas, he’d taken to avoiding you most of the time, yet again. Coupled with how empty you felt from your miscarriages, the fact that your friend had been so obviously (and seemingly purposefully) absent from your life in the past year was heartbreaking in its own right. It was like a slap in the face on top of your other failures, so far from the unbridled excitement he’d shown when he’d discovered your first pregnancy before anyone else had. So far from the love and care and attention he’d given you before.

You’re not sure you really understood how much it bothered you until this very moment. His sudden entitlement for attention and gratefulness makes your blood boil.

You pop up off the sand, pushing your windblown hair out of your face. “Oh, yes, how sorry I am that not every one of my thoughts is about your stunning generosity, your majesty,” you say sarcastically, viciously, before turning to stomp down the beach away from him. You’ve never, ever spoken to him this way, to anyone this way, but the darkness of your sorrow has flared into something else entirely, this blistering anger threatening to swallow you whole and take Elvis with you.

“Excuse me?” he says indignantly, grasping your arm and whipping you back to face him. His eyes flash in the darkness, both in confusion and with warning.

“Don’t touch me!” you spit, ripping your arm out of his grasp.

“What has gotten into you? What the hell did I do?” he shouts, his voice raising over the surf.

“Not everything is about you, Elvis!” you scream back at him.

For a second, it looks as if you’ve slapped him across the face, with the way his eyes widen in surprise.

You pause for a moment, breath heaving, before continuing. “And since when do you even care what’s going on with me?”

“W-What are ya talkin’ about? O-Of course I care! I-I-I brought ya on this trip, d-d-didn’t I?” The emotions fly over his features so quickly it makes it too hard to discern what he’s thinking, but his stutter belies his frustration.

“You’ve barely talked to me in a year, Elvis. Can’t imagine why I’d think you care,” you scoff.

His eyes go dark, then blank, that Hollywood mask of his sliding over his features. “You’re nuts! You’re just bein’ crazy…” he starts, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I must be. I must be crazy thinkin’ my friend might give me the time of day after…everything that’s happened,” you hiss back.

Elvis blinks, his long lashes fanning over his cheekbones. You don’t know if he’s finally done the math in his head, figuring out that you nearly died and lost your baby almost exactly a year ago. Or maybe, like he’d somehow known you were pregnant the first time, he gleans some supernatural understanding of what might be happening with you now. Either way, his gaze softens dramatically.

“Oh, honey,” he says, “I didn’t—”

Yeah, you didn’t, you think bitterly. He didn’t do a lot of things. He wasn’t even there after you almost died. But you suppose being a star of his caliber didn’t leave him much time to slum it with you, not anymore. And why would he want to? Not when you’ve been depressed and have already failed at the one thing you felt you were created to do as a woman.

“Just leave me alone, E. You’ve gotten good at that,” you mutter, angry tears filling your eyes, turning away from him to stare out into the churning waves.

You can’t look at him. But you feel the heat of his eyes, nonetheless.

“Don’t do that, y/n,” he says quietly.

“Don’t do what? Speak the truth?”

“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he growls.

He doesn’t get to be angry. Not about this.

“No, you don’t know, Elvis. You have no idea what it’s been like, you couldn’t. And you haven’t even tried…” you trail off, shaking your head.

You know that’s a lie. Whatever had happened between you on Christmas had been something, as much as you’d tried to deny it and forget his strange behavior. Perhaps that had been him trying.

Suddenly, more than anything, you want him to pull you into his arms like he did that night three months ago. You want him to comfort you and let you sob against his chest, to inhale the distinct scent of him as the heat of his lean body presses into yours. You want the desperate tension that is climbing between you to shatter you and make you forget that the past year had ever happened.

But instead of drawing you close, you watch him put distance between you. You feel as he fortifies that invisible wall he’s built between you this past year. It’s only in the depths of his churning cobalt eyes that you see something akin to apology, along with something deeper that neither of you truly wants to unpack.

Then, Elvis shutters that churning away, his fist clenching and unclenching in time with his jaw. “Yeah, I guess not. I’ll leave ya alone, then.” And he turns and walks away.

Oh god. You feel as though you’ve been hit in the chest, pain radiating inexplicably through your torso, the claws of his dismissal ripping through your insides. You don’t know why. You wanted him to go, and he went.

You sink down into the sand, fresh tears pooling in your eyes, and you wish more than anything that the ocean would just swallow you whole.

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newt-and-salamander · 3 years

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Okay, so here are my thoughts on Secrets of Dumbledore based on what we recently learned from the synopsis:

Professor Albus Dumbledore knows the powerful Dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald is moving to seize control of the wizarding world. Unable to stop him alone, he entrusts Magizoologist Newt Scamander to lead an intrepid team of wizards, witches and one brave Muggle baker on a dangerous mission, where they encounter old and new beasts and clash with Grindelwald's growing legion of followers. But with the stakes so high, how long can Dumbledore remain on the sidelines?

First of all: “Secrets of Dumbledore” is a quite boring name (I mean a few people even (almost) guessed it before) but I think it’s practical. It can refer (obviously) to Albus, but also to Credence/Aurelius, Aberforth, Ariana, … and whoever might be a secret Dumbledore. (Jacob? Picket?!? Everyone, probably.) Taking into account the author’s ominous “answers are given” she once said about FB3, I believe in the end we will know how exactly Credence, Dumbledore and Grindelwald are connected.

Also, I wonder how much the film really will be about Dumbledore? “Crimes of Grindelwald” wasn’t really about Grindelwald after all. I imagine it to be about Dumbledore and his family in the beginning, probably some flashbacks, then he gives Newt some kind of a mission. The main part of the film could be about Newt and his team trying to accomplish that mission, and in the end (maybe when Newt fights his duel with Grindelwald), Dumbledore realises that not everything turned out as he planned (or did it?) and decides that “the stakes are too high to remain on the sidelines”. The question is if he will be able to openly move against Grindelwald, that depends on the blood pact and maybe on whether Newt is able to accomplish his mission. Or maybe, Grindelwald fighting Newt already counts as moving against Dumbledore so he will break the blood pact first? But I rather think, both Dumbledore and Grindelwald are too smart to break the pact on accident – we don’t know of the consequences they would have to face if they violated the pact, but I don’t doubt they would be terrible.

What made me frown at first, but happy after I gave it some more thought, was the idea of Newt as a team leader. Because – I don’t really see him as a leader. He’s a private and quiet person. But (and this is the good part) he is also an absolute expert for magical beasts. So, if he is to lead a team, it is certainly because of something beast-related! And I love this possibility. It’s “fantastic beasts” after all, and in my opinion, the creatures are the most magical part of the films!

What are Newt and his team doing on their journey? I can see two main possibilities here: a) looking for a way to destroy the blood pact, b) looking for a way to properly separate an Obscurus from its host. A blood pact seems to be a very powerful kind of magical bond/object, but let’s not forget that Harry managed to destroy a Horkrux with a Basilisk’s fang – so maybe there are other beasts with strong curse-breaking abilities? As for the Obscurus, we know that Newt has tried before with a girl, but she died. We just don’t know if this was because he hadn’t perfectionated the spell yet, or if he just came too late to save her.

So, who is on the team? Jacob for sure, I don’t know another brave Muggle baker. I’m also sure Bunty will come along as it was said that she will be much more important in this film, and she also is a beast expert. Tina? Hopefully! Nagini and Yusuf Kama? Probably, because otherwise, what would be their purpose (sorry)? Theseus? Nah, he’s a ministry man, I suppose he will concentrate on politics. (And I can’t really see him being bossed around by his little brother. :D But it would be lots of fun. Maybe he will be on the Berlin part of the mission because I don’t imagine lots of creatures living there.) Then we have the ominous Eulalie Hicks who has to fit in somehow, but we don’t know enough about her at this point to know whether she will rather accompany Newt or maybe will be more of a kind of advisor for Dumbledore. And, of course, I wonder if we will see Flamel again? He’s an alchemist, so maybe he has some ideas about how to destroy a blood pact.

Regarding “old and new beasts”, we will certainly see Pickett and the Niffler (they are just too popular now and can’t be left out. Also, I’m rather sure Newt won’t go anywhere without Pickett. The Niffler has proven to be rather useful, especially now that he can track Tina’s footsteps, hehe. Okay, stealing the blood pact also was rather useful I admit). I wonder if we might also see Frank again, maybe connected to Eulalie. I really hope to see the Zouwu, I just loved her and maybe that’s (part of) the reason for a trip to China? As for new beasts… I have no idea and I doubt that my current copy of Mr Newt Scamander’s book will be a great help because some of the creatures weren’t featured in it before they appeared on screen. But I’m sure we will see a lot of the Phoenix (Fawkes?) because it/he is clearly connected to the Dumbledores. And what about the Kelpie? It still appears a little strange to me that Newt’s scene with it in CoG wasn’t cut for time as it has no connection to the plot - unless it has and we just have to find out.

It is also mentioned that Newt and his team will clash with Grindelwald’s followers. It’s obvious that this will involve Credence who is going to have a scene with Dumbledore (I think Jude Law said something like that, about having a scene with Ezra set in Berlin?). I also really hope we will see a lot of Queenie and learn more about her motivation because although we were shown her reasons to join Grindelwald in CoG, it didn’t really convince me. I especially hope for a scene with her and Tina, but… well, let’s just hope, okay? Another one of Grindelwald’s followers who I think has a very interesting role is Grimmson. He’s an undercover spy (so there’s a lot of potential for dramatic scenes where he turns out to be a traitor and turns against the ministry) and also it’s implied that he and Newt have some kind of a backstory (although that also wasn’t too clear in the film, but you could learn from the script that he hunts down magical creatures – and that’s most likely the reason why Newt and he hate each other, although it’s possible they had some more personal connection in the past… maybe fought together in the war or worked at the Ministry and were both disgusted by the other’s methods). I personally think he would be a great antagonist for Newt because their hatred for each other is so personal and natural, maybe Newts has a stronger dislike for him than for Grindelwald (much like Harry hated Snape more than Voldemort). But well, we know that in the end it will be Newt against Grindelwald…

…and that’s a point that worries me. Newt is astonishingly capable of getting himself out of dangerous situations with the help of his beasts, and he has already once defeated Grindelwald together with Tina, the Swooping Evil, and all of MACUSA’s Aurors. If this epic battle scene in the end is a 1:1 Newt against Grindelwald I see… well I don’t really see a way Newt could possibly win this fight. He’s clearly a really capable wizard but duelling is not his main interest. It might be enough to trick traffickers and escape, but we have already seen him in the NY underground fighting Grindelwald and I don’t know how it would have ended for him if Credence and Tina hadn’t interrupted the scene. Let’s see how he get’s out of the situation this time (and nope, please don’t let anybody sacrifice him- or herself for Newt, I want them all to be happy and alive… but if somebody is going to die for Newt I assume it’s either Bunty or Theseus. But, as I just said, this is definitely not going to happen because I love them all very much, so there’s no need to discuss that). I just hope the film doesn’t end with a cliff-hanger like Newt being defeated and taken hostage… because I cannot possibly wait at least another two years to learn how they solve this. Also, I have no idea if – from a marketing point of view – that would be a very good or a very bad idea. I think everyone just wants to see Newt happily together with Tina at the end of the 3rdfilm, but… who knows.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on Secrets of Dumbledore up to this point. I am super excited just thinking about the fact that we will get photos and a trailer soon!

#fantastic beasts the secrets of dumbledore #fantastic beasts 3 #fantastic beasts theory #fbtsod #fantastic beasts #newt scamander #tina goldstein #albus dumbledore #gellert grindelwald #jacob kowalski #queenie goldstein #theseus scamander #bunty

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nctrenjunie · 3 years

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Dance with me~ Jeno (M)

Author: Sera

Pairing: Jeno X Reader

Genre: Smut

Requested

Comment: Happy new year everyone!!!😊🎊 I wish yall a healthy, productive and happy year and take care of yourselves! I finally stopped working so now I've got more time to concentrate on school and to write. It´s been a while since I've posted a smut so feedback is always welcomed🤗 Love you lots💜

You were mesmerized by these hips.

You were trying to observe every swift move they did as they hit every little beat that blasted out of the music box perfectly, silklike movements making him glide elegantly but overall teasingly through the practice room. The dim lights without daylight shining into the room weren’t really helping you to get your dirty thoughts out of your head as you kept analyzing his every move.

And just as you thought his deep eyes were focused on his own reflection in the big mirror, trying to perfectionate every little move, he sometimes tried to catch a glance of your reflection that would make him end up with a knowing grin. Just by looking at your face once he knew you were in for a dance, excitingly waiting for the music to end.

Meanwhilst, your unknowingly self tried to pull yourself together as his sharp and tired breathes seemed to dominate your ears more than the music itself. Your eyes were focused on the sweat droplets that made his skin shine under the weak light and you could feel yourself getting hotter. You tried to catch his focused stare that made something tingle inside of you. But the most beautiful sight you've got to see tonight, so far, was probably his big hands moving so softly over his own body making you wish for them to be your hands that were touching him right now. Ughhh you would die for this man.

Happiness rushed over you as the music came to an abrupt stop. Silence.

The only thing filling the void that seemed to be present in the practice room was his rapid pants. Both of you stayed like this for a while, to your advantage obviously, as you were able to profit from this beautiful sight. Jeno was panting, his black sportfit clenched tightly to his marmor like body and you, you were actually just here to pick him up but to your luck the other members already left and this view wasn't meant to end here.

Just as you were about to speak up Jeno interrupted you after catching his breath. You admired his gorgeous back as his head turned slightly into your direction. Facing you with a big smile that seemed to appear godly you weren't really prepared for the unholy dance with the devil you were getting into.

“Hey baby, Would you like to dance with me?”

Stretching out one of his hands towards you you took it anticipatingly. Jeno pulled you in front of him, facing the mirror as he pressed your back against his well formed abs. Fuck, you just wanted him to dick you down.

But as always, he wanted to tease you taking your neediness to his advantage. The thought of his sweaty body against your clean clothes fastily vanished away when he started to move your hips slowly. Getting rid of your shirt, the big hand on your waist felt like it was burning its pleasure into your skin. His fiery eyes met yours once in the mirror before he pulled you in a sharp movement closer to him. Both hands were now on your hips, moving them sensually in circular motion which made you feel his big boner under his sweatpants. The small breaths you reacted with satisfied him enough to lick a quick line from your collarbone almost up to your ear before he started to burn hot kisses behind your right ear.

You were about to leave out a small moan before it was rapidly replaced by a hiss as you could feel his teeth biting softly into the crook of your neck. The light pleasure Jeno was giving to you made you anticipate the real course even more meanwhile Jeno was just satisfied with teasing you and rocking your hips slowly against his, for now.

The moment your left hand moved itself down into your pants, jeno stopped your little dance abruptly. You could feel the tension rising up, unsure about his next move. In a swift move Jeno spinned you around, making you face him before he pressed you against the mirror. A wide smirk sneaked itself onto his angelic seeming face, Fuck he was gorgeous. The sucking on your skin made his lips look glossy. You were able to admire how his tongue was slightly flicking against his teeth and then there were his deep brown eyes, making you wanna fall deeper into him.

Jeno noticed your little observation session and so before a innocent smile got the chance to plaster his face he smashed his lips against yours. The way your head banged slightly against the mirror didn't seem to bother you as one of his hands opened up your pants and made its way into your underwear without wasting time. The room was now totally filled with lewd panting as both of you tried to keep your lips as long as possible connected before you had to grasp for air. The way two of his fingers were painting their way like a paintbrush over your slit made you throw your head even more against the mirror, whining out loud as his thumb worked magic against your clit. Head thrown back, mouth agape, eyes pressed closed… you looked like a goddess to him.

“You look so sexy baby, i love it when you have that expression on your face and it's all just because of me. Do you like it when I play with your pussy? Were you thinking about that when you watched me dance? Yes baby, were you thinking about me sticking my long ass fingers into your tight little hole?”

His words turned you on so much your moans were at this point unstoppable. Just as you wanted to grasp for air, Jeno pumped two of his fingers into your pussy, leaving a content growl as he heard you scream out loud from the extensive pleasure. Jeno was enjoying himself enough just by watching you pant and moan out but he didn't complain as you moved your hand down into his sweatpants to take out his already hard dick. He hissed when he felt your nail slowly gliding over the tip of his dick, precum dripping down your hand onto the dancefloor. Starting to press rough kisses against your skin again you panted out loud when he added a third finger, pumping them slowly into you. The other hand that wasn't busy with moving up and down jenos shaft went straight up into your hair trying to cope with the excessive pleasure Jeno was giving you.

“Will my baby girl cum for me now? Let it go Y/N, cum on my fingers like my little slut.”

His words were the end of you as you felt your release coming over you like a tidal wave. Jeno was pleased with the sight, admiring the effect he had on you before pulling his fingers out of your pussy and liking them clean. A content smile plastered itself onto his lips as he bucked his hips into your tired hand. But following another goal, he carried your tired form onto the floor. Getting rid of his clothes he pulled down your pants before carefully sliding your underwear away from your entrance. Laying tiredly on the floor, jeno seated behind you on his knees, aligned his cock skillfully before your entrance. His hands were gripping around your hips as he inserted the tip of his cock inside you. You whined needy as you could formly feel his smirk whilst he pulled himself out again, gliding his cock over your slit.

Just when you were about to lose hope about getting dicked down because of his endless teasing, Jenos hand moved down to the back of your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your ear and his body pressed against yours.

“Would you like to find out what else these hips can do beside dancing? I’m gonna fuck your so hard Y/N so you can find it out on your own.”

Jenos whispering voice was finally interrupted by both of your loud pants as he rammed his dick inside of you without a break. Jeno pumped himself in and out of your tight pussy as he could already feel your walls clench around his dick. Pulling his hand into your hair you could feel his hips slapping against you and the way his other hand held a tight grip onto your hip to keep you in place. Your fingernails were already trying to find some kind of escape from the neverending pleasure by scratching the floor. Jeno was never stopping, now grasping at your shoulder for a better halt to pound even deeper into your pussy. Knowing that he'll cum soon his hand moved onto your neck with a tight grasp pulling you onto your knees against himself.

“Fuck Jeno….I I can’t hold it anymo….”

You couldn't really talk with jenos hand choking you slightly and the way his cock was now hitting you even deeper from this new angle. You felt your high rushing over you, clenching your walls around jenos shaft as your eyes rolled back automatically, overwhelmed by this pleasure. Jenos pounds became slower but stronger, feeling him ramm into you with every breath.

“Oh baby I’m about to cum, fuck ”

Pounding into you one last time Jeno came into you as you could feel your pussy become warm by his cum painting your insides. The room was filled by your loud pants as he pulled out of you, admiring his cum slowly dripping out of your pussy. Laying next to your tired body he sneaked himself a small kiss on your cheek.

“We should dance together more often baby.”

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meichenxi · 3 years

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Obsession, ‘productivity’ and habits vs routines: starting learning in a healthier way

cw: perfectionism, obsessiveness, allusion to eating disorders, depression, anxiety (very non-explicit) I’m going to be writing a series of posts from some asks I’ve had waiting for me, on how to build a cohesive language learning routine, but I wanted to preface that first with something we talk about less than we should in the language learning community: obsessiveness, perfectionism, recovery from mental health, and how to approach language learning in a better way. If the personal stuff bores you, feel free to skip the first two paragraphs.

I have been trying to ‘be more productive’ - in healthy ways, and unhealthy ways - since I was about ten. If you don’t fit in, for whatever reason, hobbies - and especially creative or ‘productive’ ones - are a wonderful escape. They make you feel that it’s ok not to have friends; they let you look down on all those other stupid children with all the misplaced arrogance of every single bored, clever pre-teen. When I was twelve, I realised there was no point eating with people that didn’t like me and went to the library instead, because that was ‘dead time’. When I was fourteen, I realised getting the bus was ‘dead time’, and started doing Anki for two hours a day. When I was sixteen, I realised walking was ‘dead time’, and started either listening to podcasts or talking out loud. By the time I was eighteen, I was doing four A-levels in school, an EPQ, teaching myself an extra Latin GCSE, and taught myself the Spanish A-level in 3 months right before the exam. I also worked out for two hours a day - because eating lunch was ‘dead time’, and sleeping was ‘dead time’ - trained martial arts four evenings a week, tutored twice a week, had a part-time job as a waitress, played the flute in a prestigious orchestra, and was 150,000 words deep in the first draft of a very gay, Norse-mythology inspired fantasy novel.

I had it all under control. My marks were excellent; I was a well-rounded person, musical and sporty and already decently on the way to becoming a polyglot, I was training to be a teacher, and I had plans to publish my novel. My home life was painful, but I was painfully independent with what I now like to call the ‘Elsa complex’. Or, actually, like Zuko: I could look after myself, by myself. It was all under control.

I guess everyone can see where this is going. School ended, and with it came endless, open days. I fell apart.

With endless surprise, I can now say that, four years later, I think I’ve come through the worst of it. I still have tendencies to get obsessive, but my anxiety and perfectionism are a lot better, I don’t dissociate, and I have - gasp! shock! - actual interest in life again. I never wrote that novel, but I’m still gay and still love Norse mythology, so I’m slowly finding my way towards writing again. What people don’t tell you about getting better, though, is that trying to define yourself, trying to find yourself, as a person who exists without mental illness, is very, very hard. Many of the things that you used to identify as core components of your personality or important values may have changed, and you may be hesitant about trying to take up hobbies that you used to enjoy because you recognise - and rightly so - that the incessant drive to be doing something, all the time, didn’t necessarily come from anywhere healthy. That those things which you clung to and which protected you may actually have ended up harming you in the end. A lot of figuring out old patterns of unhelpful thoughts involves realising that the things that you defended or framed as helping - weren’t. That’s a hard thought, especially because those mechanisms developed to try and protect you, one that’s immeasurably sad.

Seperating your reasons for doing something obsessively and your love of it in the first place, before it became unhealthy, is difficult. And it means that when you feel - finally, finally - ready to start tackling something like language learning again, you end up sorting of approaching it sideways, shiftily, as if you’re hoping to trick yourself into it. It’s a delicate thing, like a baby bird, and it’s dangerous too, because if you do everything which you did before - the only thing you know how to do - it’s not going to work. And every time it fails is personal, because being able to do it again represents getting better, and reclaiming parts of your identity mental illness stole, and it hurts.

I’m writing this post because somebody asked me about my approach to creating a successful language learning routine. And I do have a lot of thoughts - but I wanted to preface that post with this one, to say:

If you are reading this to be more productive, if it is becoming obsessive, if you want to fit the most possible language learning into the tightest schedule possible, STOP. Take care of yourself. These tips for ‘productivity’ are for people who want to learn a little bit more about organising their time, and are in the right space to add more learning to their life. If you are only defined by what many hours you get done a day, if that’s what motivates you, these tips are not for you. Look after yourself.

And on that note, here’s a confession: I don’t have - have never had - a successful language learning routine. Because of what happened, the only way I can keep going and prevent myself from falling into bad habits is if I approach it sideways, if I pretend I’m not taking it seriously, because I know if I don’t things will go wrong. But I want to be honest and upfront because I know a lot of people read my posts for advice and say that this doesn’t work for me. It might not work for you either. I especially know there are a lot of conceptions of successful langblrs with 7, 8, 9 etc languages in the title - that that we spend 5 hours a day on Anki, fall asleep to Glossika, and so on. And it’s especially important to mention now, because I feel like my language learning habits have only started being healthy in the last year or so - essentially since I started actually enjoying Chinese media. I could teach you how to cram every spare second with language learning, or how to successfully pass an A-level in 3 months with no teachers. I was good (and arrogant, and cocky, and needed bringing down a peg or two). But I won’t.

What I do have are succesful language learning habits. Apart from being a generally more flexible appraoch for all learners, the advantage of building successful habits over a fixed routine is that it allows for learning according to different in energy levels, how busy you are, what you find difficult and what else is going on in your life. Most crucially for me is that it is always a much healthier approach, because what I do is not based on number of hours, or number of units a week, or anything quantifiable that allows me to get obsessive again or frustrated that I’m not doing enough.

Routine is important, especially when it comes to routinising daily tasks. The only thing I have is that sometimes - on good weeks, and once or twice even shockingly on good months - I have a decent Anki streak going. That’s it. I don’t listen every day - I don’t read every day - I certainly don’t do grammar every day. There’s nothing specific I do every day, though I usually rack up a good few hours of immersion or study - to be honest, I fail at Anki probably at least 60% of the time. Everything else - all these tips I have written about - I do as and when. Framing it in such vague terms makes it sound like I must have an extraordinary amount of motivation to keep going, that maybe I’m just lucky to be interested etc, but that’s really not the case. What I have done to keep learning regularly and somewhat successfully (I hope!!) without limiting myself to a routine which I know I will starting obsessing over is tying specific language learning behaviour to certain moods or levels of concentration.

All routine is just habit. Habit, with a ribbon and packaged nicely. But allowing yourself to adapt your learning to the circumstances gives you more flexibility than any strict routine, and is more sustainable in the long term. What building habits rather than a specific routine does is allow you to learn what works best when, what works when you’re tired, and what is best to do when you have energy, or when you want to watch a show, or talk to people. It puts you at the centre of your language learning, rather than framing language learning as a central part of you.

So how can we build healthy habits? How can we utilise ‘dead time’ whilst keeping it light, and fun? How can we adapt our language learning for times when we are tired, and stressed? Or what about when we don’t have time to give 100% of our attention or concentration? How can we identify our own strengths, our own weaknesses, and unite these with our personal goals to figure out what to prioritise in active studying, and what to do when we don’t have the energy for that?

I’ll give my thoughts on all of these over the next couple of weeks, in what I hope will be a comprehensive overview of how best to practice, addressing everything from how to practice speaking to how to start as a complete beginner. If you have any thoughts or interim questions, or if you’d like to add your own experience to anything I have said, please feel free to!

In the mean time -

chenxi out.

#chinese #learning chinese #langblr #depression #anxiety #perfectionism #obsessiveness #mental health #recovery #I actually wrote the next post about building habits first #but it didn't feel right because personally I don't reeeeeeally have a successful routine #and giving advice about that - though I do have a lot of ideas - without acknowledging that seems hypocritical at best and unhelpful at wors #I'm lucky enough at the moment that chinese is my **special interest**#so I just sort of...do it without organising it and without much external motivation #but then again my way of learning is also a complete mess #I just look up words in things I'm reading and add them to Anki and learn them SOMETIMES #there's no structure #I really admire people who can sit down with a textbook and do a certain number of things per week #THAT is how you're going to proceed #I write so much about what I'm going to do and my plans and never ever do them #could it BE that I have adhd? who would have guessed #so many promises and I never do them AHHHHHH #anyway #actuallyadhd #excuse the personal Dramatic Backstory as ever but I feel it's important to give my own perspective and humanise the blog a bit #don't do what I do folks lmao

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evandearest · 3 years

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The Garden of Eden | Part IV: Betrayal

Pairing: James March x reader (you) | ~Part: (4/4)~

Summary (Part Four): Warnings are to be remembered, although most stored away for future use only to be forgotten. Cycles repeat to teach lessons; to warn of future events. Threats may remain even if not for the blind eye to see. However, ignorance might be the biggest threat of all.

Warnings (in this part): murder, blood, death, poison, religious twists, dark themes

Word Count: 5,018 (haha this part ended up with the most words... to end it off I suppose!)

Notes: This is the last part of the Garden of Eden! I just want to say thank you to all who read - especially @etoile-writings , for supporting me. Please go check out her series Adam and Eve, as it is a literary masterpiece and she deserves so much recognition.

I have seriously had so much fun writing this - it really has been my pleasure. I also want to apologize to all those who may have been waiting for awhile for the final part! Disclaimer: I tried my best to edit the grammar and everything in this but this is the best I could do! I hope there’s not many mistakes I may have missed. Please ask any questions and give me all your comments about this finale - I’d love to hear any and all thoughts! I also hope everyone is safe, healthy, and happy :) Feel free to send in other requests, whether it be AHS or Supernatural.

Also a heads up - keep a look out for the final review and analysis if you are interested. It is still in progress but it should be out within a couple of days at best.

A few side notes - the Countess and James are still legally married here, as they are in the show, but in this situation it is only because they haven’t gotten the chance to divorce. This part may seem to have very long sentences, but I just wanted to let you guys know that it is a writing technique that I used to create mood, tone, and theme. That’s all, thanks!

Tag List: @etoile-writings @haileyybird @ietss

Something about the young couple in the bar had your mind reeling. Their hands remained interlocked on the table, both of them staring at one another with all the joy and adoration that only true love can bring. Their relationship was new and exciting. The honeymoon phase was always so perfect. You remembered how that had felt with James; so invigoratingly energizing. It was enough to make you feel as if you ruled the world; love blinding a vision of truth. It was, for many years, what you had considered paradise to be.

Paradise.

You realized now that it never had been perfect with you and James. There were so many things standing in the way, so many hidden threats. When you were younger, it had been your parents and their obsessive need to marry you off like an object to a rich man. Even as he had began his journey to success, James’ social status as new money hadn’t seemed good enough to them. When you had first gotten back with James only just around a month ago, you had thought that you’d conquered everything. You had been blind to the truth which was right in front of you once again. You should have expected some kind of change in James. It was inevitable, after all that time spent apart.

But now, however, right at this present moment... well, now, everything was out in the open. Now, you and James truly understood one another. Now there really was nothing in your way. You could see no obstacles ahead, no threat, so long as James was by your side. All you saw was James, and all that clouded your mind was your admiration and devotion to him. He was your everything; your soulmate, your leader, your God. He had dragged you from the fire and brought your paradise back to you; good, true, and everlasting this time around. Your precious Garden of Eden, controlled by none other but you and your God.

Your God; who had been the utmost of clever in his recent schemes. He’d been outraged when he did it, but it wasn’t to say that he wasn’t brilliant. He was of excellent prosecution; his statement out in the open and clear. A Sunday morning: police finding piles of dead bodies compiled with numerous copies of nothing other than the book of God himself. It was sadistic and morbid, but it was perfect. It was everything that James needed to say. He was on the verge of something momentously renowned.

Once James was finished, no one would ever forget his message: religion was the worst thing to happen to society. It controlled the will of man, when truly nothing in creation could stop anything. Everyone was put equal on the Earth to sin, to live in the most pleasurable way.

It was the entire reason Adam and Eve had been cast down. They were sinners, except the garden was a place controlled by God’s rules. They had wanted to control their own lives, so God banished them to Earth. James, however, had created his own paradise; his own Garden of Eden. He had climbed so far above all other men that he now controlled the garden. He had to prove to others the ridiculousness of holiness--for all were meant to sin. Religion was, essentially, suppression. To some, it may seem horrible, but to you, it was art. A simple expression of belief that most didn’t understand.

Voices floated into your ears, startling you out of your thoughts. Soft echoes through the lobby of your beloved’s name piqued your interest, your feet immediately carrying you to the railing without much thought. You left your drink on the bar’s counter--still full, but long forgotten. Your eyes landed on four men clad in black suits, shiny gold badges on their shoulders reflecting light from the chandeliers above. You scanned the area, noticing a certain maid standing close by, listening in, much like you were.

“We have suspicion based upon evidence that Mr. March was involved in the murder this past Sunday. We have already taken the time to get a warrant for his arrest,” one of the officers explained to the receptionist at the front desk. Time seemed to take a standstill, your heart seeming to stop completely as your brain registered the man’s words. No, this couldn’t be happening.

The cycle was repeating again. They were trying to tear you apart again.

You didn’t understand how this could’ve happened. He said he was careful, and you could never see James making a mistake with something this important. He was detail-oriented, his brain practically ran off of the certainty of perfectionism. He would never let a small mistake ruin everything for him.

The entire empire he’d built, and everything you’d rebuilt, was about to be destroyed all over again.

Your body seemed to catch up with your mind as you sprung into action. You twisted around, your feet pushing you forward only to come to a halt at the close proximity of the once unknown presence behind you. Your eyes widened, a sharp breath escaping your lips at the stop you made compared to your sudden momentum. You stared into the eyes of none other than The Countess, clad in only the most extravagant clothing and makeup.

“That’ll be a hard one to get out of,” she said, although her face was seemingly expressionless. You stared at her, your frenzied brain jumping to the first conclusion you could make.

“Did you...” you trailed off, your breathing suddenly heavy. James couldn’t have made the mistake, so that means that somebody else had to of given the police some kind of tip in order for them to seek James out. The woman standing before you was quite possibly the number one suspect. “Did you do this?” Your voice held tones of disbelief and anger.

Would Elizabeth really go to such extent when she hadn’t even expressed a major disliking? She hadn’t talked to you at all since that first time, in fact the only interactions you’d had with one another were passing glances. She’d seemed to have just steered clear of anything to do with you or James. You had no idea what she had thought, but you had supposed that she didn’t care about you and James, otherwise she would have spoke her concerns. Had you been wrong about her? Could a simple mistake end it all over again? Elizabeth scoffed, her face hardening.

“Oh God no...” she said wryly, a small sarcastic grin forming on her lips as she looked at you quizzically, “what would I get out of it now? As I am still his present wife, I don’t need James dead to use his money. And besides, now that he has you he no longer bothers me.” She was smug as she spoke to you. She grinned, all teeth and mischief, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a winning situation for the both of us if you ask me.” She paused, her grin falling slightly as her gaze wondered off to peer down into the lobby.

“I could bet I know who the rat is, though,” She said, turning back to you. “I’m wagering it’s his loyal minion. That poor woman has been in love with James since the beginning of time.” She paused, her eyes intense as they rested on your face. “And based on your expression you think so too.” She smiled at you and then turned, walking slowly away from you. “Good luck,” she called back to you without turning around, your eyes watching her back as she went.

You stood contemplating her words for a moment. Elizabeth was smart and straightforward, and from what you could tell if she had a problem she would speak her mind. And what she had said made sense. Miss Evers was in love with James, but her love was unrequited, and that’s why she constantly seemed at odds with you. She could never even have a chance to be with him, so long as you were around.

Your feet carried you quickly as you raced to the elevator. The police were still conversing with the receptionist, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they found out where James was. You recalled a conversation you’d had with him in the morning, concluding that he had to be caught up attending to his hobby.

The police would find him in his office, in the middle of his business, and it would all be over. He would be taken from you once again.

You didn’t even knock upon arriving; you opened the door and closed it quickly behind you. You turned to face James, in all his blood-covered, god-like glory. You took in the scene of James’ office quickly, your eyes tracing over every detail. A large bin sat in the center of the room, a rugged corpse contained within it. James had been busying himself with pouring a substance over the body, of which could only be acid, as it had sizzled upon impact with the dead man’s skin. At your arrival, James halted his methods in confusion.

Several items were scattered across the floor, one of which catching your interest. The glass of the vase; a damp spot surrounding the area where the unaltered mess remained. The roses remained too, the petals wilting from lack of nourishment. You paused, your mind trying to puzzle out their unmoved position. Miss Evers had to have been in here since last night, so why wouldn’t she move them? She might have been scheming, but she was extremely adamant on being neat when it came to James’ specific rooms. You couldn’t see her ignoring it, and yet here it was sitting puzzlingly. You were caught off guard for a reason not entirely known to you. Something about their appearance had you alarmed, a string of words suddenly ringing out in your head; perhaps a memory brought to the surface.

“If you betray the rose, the rose no longer profits you.”

The old woman was suddenly prevalent in your mind, her warning dawning upon you, your heartbeat stuttering at the looming echo of her words. James was waiting for you to explain yourself--the police were coming--Miss Evers had betrayed you--everything you and James had worked so hard for was crumbling down around you. Your heartbeat was fast, the pulse beating quickly, perhaps the reason for the pounding in your head.

You looked James in the eyes, studying his features. He was so handsome--even before you knew him, that day in the garden when you had first seen him--you had marveled at his beauty. And that was before he’d become such a man; his features sharp and masculine, beautifully sculpted by the gods. His dark brown eyes and hair, so dull yet so prominent--a symbol of his darkness. You could stare at him for eternity and never bore, your love for him everlasting.

And yet, here you were at the end with no escape, hell a threat once again hanging above your heads, looming just around the corner. Just a few more minutes and everything would be over. Just a few more minutes and you’d be lost again, stranded without your guide; your purpose--your God.

“James,” you gasped, stumbling slightly as you made your way to him. You’d just managed to get to him before you fell over slightly, your arms reaching out to grasp onto his tightly. He caught you, keeping you level as his face filled with concern. The pounding in your head was intense, beginning to drown out your thoughts and quicken your breath.

“Darling, tell me--what is it?” James demanded, his voice panic-stricken. He lifted your chin to look you in the eyes, his widened orbs meeting yours with intensity.

“I-it’s--the- the police,” you barely managed to get the words out, clinging onto James like he was your lifeline. Nothing seemed right; your thoughts suddenly taking too long to form into words, your breathing heavy, vision blurry, and it was becoming much harder to stand. What was happening? You stared into James eyes, shifting all your focus into him. “They’re here to arrest you.” One hand gripped his arm firmly as you brought the other to rest upon his cheekbone, leaning chest to chest as your body began to collapse into him. He held you steady, forever the one and only thing to truly support you. “They’re going to take you from me,” you sobbed, an onslaught of tears overcoming you. “Again,” you cried quietly, gasping for air.

The door opened, your heart skipping a beat at the intrusion, your mind going straight to the thought of the police. Your eyes landed on Miss Evers instead, confusion settling on you once again. She’d gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she? Why was she here now, to prove something? You wished you had the strength to question her, to say anything, but everything felt heavier and heavier as more time passed.

“Tell me,” James barked at her just as she’d closed and locked the door, “what in all creation is happening? Speak right this instant, and quickly.”

“The police are here,” Miss Evers explained, James grip on you tightening as you leaned onto him for support. He glanced down at you, worry glinting in his eyes as you just barely managed to look up at him.

“Darling,” he whispered, “what is happening? Are you ill?” A moment of silence passed as you tried to respond, your mouth opening but no words becoming audible. A moment of silence passed, the only action being James assessing you. Your words couldn’t seem to form, a burning spreading through your entire body. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You began to wonder yourself if you were somehow ill.

“It was supposed to be me!”

The maid across the room suddenly shrieked, desperation clouding her judgement as she flung her arms up in the air. “I was the one for you!” She sobbed, stumbling slightly as an expression of hurt formed upon her face. “I always loved you, and these women--they never did! They used you, and I always cared!” James eyes widened, shock coming across his features. He stared at the woman, contemplating her words.

“But you never saw,” the woman said sadly, her head hanging in shame before her face went emotionless. “And so I did the only thing I could.” She looked at him, dead in the eye, a type of malice suddenly overcoming her. “You’d be surprised how easy it was.” Her eyes settled upon your frame, your head moving slowly to get a glance at her. You stared, blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out. You could barely comprehend what she was saying, but you felt as James’ breath quickened. It was taking all of your willpower to stay awake--you needed to, for James.

“What?” he stated, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it, a rage within his eyes even you had never seen before as he stared at her. He was tense, as hard as a rock, glaring daggers at the woman who had seemingly betrayed him.

“I--,” Miss Evers hesitated, obviously intimidated by his fury, but decided to continue. “I’ve found that you have a secret stash of cyanide in the bar.” She faltered once again, her eyes shifting away from James and to the floor. “I wanted us to be together, and she-” she pointed at you, “-she was always in it for the money! They all are, all but me!” She burst into tears, falling onto her knees in hysterics. Your eyebrows furrowed as you racked your brain to gather all of the information. She poisoned you at the bar. You remembered brief flashbacks of the one tiny sip you’d taken of your previously forgotten drink.

James seemed to be shaking as he gently moved you to sit in a chair by the wall, turning away from you for only a moment. Your eyelids began to flutter as sleep beckoned you, visions of James’ movement around the room the only thing to hold your focus. A loud pop suddenly reverberated off of the walls as it rang out, causing you to sit up slightly from your slouched posture, your eyelids flying open to search for the source. James stood over the body of his betrayer, smoking gun resting within his palm.

You felt so weak, your thoughts jumbled, unable to focus on only one. Only now you knew it wasn’t just an overreaction. You’d only taken a mere sip of the drink from the bar, but you supposed now that it had been enough for the poison to go into effect. You wondered briefly how she’d gotten the cyanide into the drink in the first place, and exactly how much she had put in for it to have such a potent effect on your body.

Your eyes traveled to her corpse, and to the fresh blood splattered across the wall from the headshot. You blinked, barely registering what had just occurred before you. You were too dazed to process the incident, even if you understood what had occurred subconsciously. Relief was the only thing you felt; relief for one less thing to worry about standing between you and James.

Eyes shifting slightly to the left, you stared at the browning roses, the sweet old lady’s warning once again echoing, a distant memory brought to the surface of your mind. James crouched in front of you, suddenly the only thing in line of sight, his lips moving but you couldn’t hear his voice over your own in your head. The roses were dead. You left them on the floor. You betrayed them for--

You sprung up once again as a loud banging at the door shocked you back into your senses. James glanced briefly at the door before turning back to you quickly. He pulled you out of the chair, holding you up and close to his chest as he stroked your hair tenderly.

“James,” you just barely whispered as he shushed you.

“I know, darling,” He said reassuringly, pulling back to look into your eyes. “It’s all going to be okay, dear. It’ll all be over before you know it.” He smiled charmingly as you nodded weakly, holding tightly onto the cloth of his shirt to maintain stability. And you believed him in that moment, as he always seemed to find a way.

One way, or another.

You rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes as the pounding on the door increased. Or maybe it was the pounding in your head; at this point you couldn’t decipher what was real and what was just a figment of your imagination. Cold metal pressed against the skin of your temple, your brain too bleary to question it. Mere seconds passed as you contemplated moving, but suddenly it was as if everything had settled away. James’ warm body faded from your grasp.

-🤍-

Your eyelids fluttered open, eyeballs moving back and forth as you tried to become familiar with your surroundings. You recognized the familiar room immediately, for it was your bedroom when you had first moved into the Cortez. You felt strange. Zen, almost, but maybe that was just because the pounding was gone. You felt... disconnected. It was the most out of touch with yourself you’d ever felt.

You climbed to your feet from the floor, thoughts running rampant at what was unknown to you. Where was James, how did you get here, how long had you been here, and why did you feel so cold? Flashes of what seemed to be both years ago and only moments ago clouded your mind, filling you with dread. Scenarios of what could be frightened you and sent you into a state of panic, pushing you forward.

Out of the room you went, through the quiet and empty halls, searching, searching, searching--no fixed destination ahead except something, anything, that could lead you to your James.

It seemed that days had passed before you finally found the lobby of the hotel. Navigation through the building was proving to be much more difficult than you remembered. Why was it taking so long?

The lobby was sparsely populated, unlike the usually crowded area that you were used to. You glanced around, noticing only a few people in the bar, the receptionist, and someone asleep on the sofas. Your feet carried you to the hotel entrance, pushing the first door open, the sunlight peeking through the opaque glass surprising you. If it was the daytime, then why was the hotel so empty? On ordinary occasions people came and went like flies; the Cortez was a hotspot in the city of Los Angeles, after all. Your hands reached out to push open the door to the outside, the metal handle of the door cool against your skin, and then suddenly nothing. In front of you was the door no longer; profound confusion coursing through you as you stared at the walls of your bedroom once again. You had been there one second, and in the next it was as if you had been teleported back in time.

And so the cycle repeated for what seemed like years; many times set adrift through the halls, eventually to the lobby where the sunlight no longer shone through the windows and unusually few people inhabited. You were reaching forward for the handle of the first door for what seemed to be the hundredth time, only to freeze at the call of your name from a familiar voice.

“Y/N.”

Your name sounded of honey dripping off his tongue. It was like hearing that voice for the first time again. All your worries deflated and anxieties subsided--for you had found your God once again. You turned to face him, to see his face--the face you had longed to see for what felt like years but may have been minutes. You still didn’t entirely understand the detachment from your body you felt; it was as if you no longer had a life source, no blood running course or lungs cycling air. You felt out of place and trapped at the same time.

Just as your hopes had soared, they plummeted at the sight of the bare lobby. Emptiness sat instead where you had expected James to be, crushing all sense of direction. You wanted to cry, to scream, to tear the hotel to shreds with your bare hands. But just before you gave up all hope completely, your eyes caught on the tiniest of details.

Barely noticeable, unless payed close attention to; unless already a prominent object in one’s mind. Small, dainty, white petals lay scattered in high correlation, leading on to an unknown but obviously specific destination. You treaded lightly as you followed the path closely, afraid any disturbance would somehow make them disappear.

Unease settled through you, possibly just a usual feeling as of late, but considerably appropriate when meeting the isolate hallways once again. You began questioning your sanity; was this just yet another repeat in the cycle? You’d been lost for so long, was this just another loop? What was the energy here, and why did it not feel like you and James’ beloved Cortez, the place you called home? You felt like you were stuck in a punishment of some kind; a purgatory; a hell.

And at last, you arrived; the room in which this cycle had began, or ended. The office of James Patrick March: Room sixty-four. You paused, contemplating, before making a bold decision and gripping the handle, opening the door and entering the room. There you stood in what was once James’ office, now empty of most furniture, only few items remaining. And there it remained: the vase on the table in the center of the room, petals leading straight to their source.

Inside sat the very white roses themselves, southern California glory and all. They looked just like the ones in that very first garden: huge, bright and beaming, petals spread with all the beauty and radiance of nature and purity. And just behind them stood their God; the master of the garden who held the utmost control in his realm. Your God, who’d saved you from hell; who’d broke all cycles.

The feeling you felt at sight of James did not fail to excite you just the same as it had on that first day years ago. Something about his presence next to yours soothed you, for you knew that he was still there, that he hadn’t been taken from you, that no matter what had happened you were still okay so long as he stood next to you.

You rushed forward and into him, basking in his embrace. His arms wrapped around you, but the challenge once again presented itself: an unignorably apparent absence of warmth. It’d been just before you’d first woken up what seemed like years, or maybe just hours ago, that you’d been in his embrace just the same, his warmth seeping into you and igniting your soul as you had faded in and out of consciousness. But now, you couldn’t feel it. You felt his body wrapped around yours, but nothing inflaming, the detachment from your own warmth just the same. It was missing, a shell of a comfort that used to always be present; something you had gotten entirely used to, for to be absent of warmth was to be dead...

You gasped, pulling away from James to look him in the eyes, the reality setting in and the drunkenness fading away. Your mind was becoming clear, all clarity suddenly bestowed upon you.

“James, are we...” you froze in panic, for it felt as if you didn’t have lungs, the normal rise and fall of the simplicity of breathing gone... the feelings of life were all gone...

And it clicked.

“James,” you whispered, your eyes tracing over the details of the room. The blood stains on the floor and walls were the only evidence of foul play left. You felt strange, for people didn’t normally expect to see the place of their death after the fact. Realizations settled over you as you stared at the room, just as you had initially when entering to warn James of the police, the truth of the events that had happened finally dawning upon you. In your poison-induced state of mind, it’d been hard to realize. You had been dying, the poison slowly but surely shutting your body down. You’d barely processed it when James had held the gun to your head and pulled the trigger, ending your pain.

“Yes, darling?” James replied to you, bringing you back to your conversation. You stared at him longingly. Although you didn’t entirely understand why you were still here, or the concept of the afterlife, you were glad to have James next to you. A moment of silence passed as you tried to pinpoint what you wanted to ask him exactly.

“I have so many questions,” you said, deciding to just speak your mind. You furrowed your eyebrows, blinking rapidly as you tried to sort out your thoughts. “I-I’m so lost, James.”

“Of course you are, dearest,” James said reassuringly, his hand brushing the stray hairs away from your face. He stared at you sadly. “I’m terribly sorry for all that happened, you must feel perplexed beyond understanding my dear.” He paused, his eyes traveling over your features as you stared up at him, listening intently. “This was simply my only choice, darling. You were succumbing to the poison’s grip long before I finished your pain. Miss Evers...” He trailed off, his jaw clenching tightly. “Nevermind that. I came to a conclusion upon the authorities’ arrival, and that was that if I was damned to be put away I might as well flee with you, my queen... it was the only right option.” He smiled down at you softly.

You smiled right back at him, your love for him the only warmth left inside of you now that you no longer had your body to call home. You basked in the feeling of being close to him as he pulled you to his chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss against your scalp. Even if you didn’t feel warmth, simply the love you had for him was enough. He tenderly stroked your back, calming your nerves. It amazed you how he could ease your mind so easily, if only just a little. However, you couldn’t shake your thoughts away. Sure, you could just let it all go, but the truth of the matter was simple.

Your entire life had been a cycle. A cycle of undeniable foolishness; you’d been ignorant of the truth for all of your living years. Oh, how it angered you. You hated something truly for what seemed like the first time in your life. You hated yourself; you’d let yourself believe false truths just to live in an illusion that you thought was happiness. You were naïve. And ultimately, that was what had ended you.

You’d ignored all warnings and left the roses to wilt, betraying the one thing that had always been on your side. You’d ignored all threats and committed yourself to making paradise in the land of the evil; it was simply impossible. The Garden of Eden wasn’t a place for the living. It was a place of freedom, and so long as you’re living, you can never truly be free. For in life, one threat always remains: death. You could never truly be protected. You could never truly have paradise.

But with James, in the Cortez, in the paradise he’d created for you... even death didn’t stand a chance. It was a gateway to greatness; a place where nothing truly stood in your way, where no threats were great enough. You couldn’t be harmed, or imprisoned, or separated here; you were finally utterly invincible; real Gods. Hell and Earth were no longer a threat. It was your true paradise that James had promised you.

Your Garden of Eden.

---------

Series Masterlist: The Garden of Eden Series

Main Masterlist

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vegalocity · 3 years

Note

Comforting Hugs and (platonic) kiss on the cheek. Min Yi falls and gets a boo boo so Huntsman has to Comfort her, much to his discomfort. Cause what you wrote with Uncle Goliath was adorable so now it's Uncle Huntsys turn. - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

4. Comforting hugs

8. Kisses on cheek

Whoops i tripped and it turned into feels how'd that happen

Huntsman had never wanted kids. He didn’t like kids, he didn’t trust kids, Kids always seemed to be more of a pain than they were worth.

Which was why he wasn’t particularly excited when everyone found out that Syntax had a kid. Some little wannabe detective whom was barely old enough for grade school yet somehow believed she was capable of solving any mystery handed to her but still needed to hold hands with a grownup while crossing the street.

Another thing he didn’t like about kids, they didn’t even have the skills to back up their egos.

The only positive thing he could scrounge together about Syntax's Daughter for a long time was that she seemed to be a rather tough kid. Always tripping and falling and scraping herself up in ways he was (pretty sure) a lesser child would have stopped everything to cry about, brushing the dirt off of her clothes and going back to whatever she was doing. At times Syntax or her aunt needed to pull her away and tell her to bandage up her injuries first and she’d protest over it.

So he’d give her that. She was tough.

That in no way meant he was alright with babysitting just because he was the only one without any plans tonight.

He’d be completely fair and say that he expected it tpo be a quiet night. The brat was in between ‘mysteries’ and was quietly working on one of her arts and crafts projects. He’d figured they’d have no real reason to interact until she’d tell him it was about dinner time and they’d… order in or something, he didn’t know what kids liked to eat.

But that didn’t mean he was okay with it just happening to him to be stuck with the brat all night until Syntax got home from whatever tech-related insanity the Monkie Kid and his ilk had pulled him into.

Though when he heard a yelp of surprise and pain, he’d assumed it was something like, the little gremlin tripping on her own socks or something and falling face first onto the floor or whatever. So he didn’t give it any mind as he continued to sharpen his lucky blade.

Though he didn’t hear any grumbles of annoyance as she continued on with what she was doing, or even laughter at her own clumsy actions. Then she was a little blur of black hair and pink jacket as she darted from the kitchen area to the bathroom, passing by as quickly and quietly as possible.

Now… That was… probably something….

The bathroom door shut with a thud, but he could pick up on sniffling and upset whimpering noises among the sounds of bottles clattering, every so often punctuated by more yelps of pain.

Then he smelled burning. It was coming from the kitchen and sure enough there was a skillet that had fallen to the ground, and a pair of eggs half sprayed along the stovetop, some parts very quickly turning to charcoal.

What had happened put itself together rather quickly and he cursed under his breath at the idiocy of children.

When he returned to the bathroom the whimpering had ended and was replaced entirely with the sniffling, and the rummaging of bottles was replaced with the running of the faucet.

“What are ya doing in there?”

“Nothing!”

“Bull. Open the door kid.”

“It’s okay! I’m okay!”

“Open the door before I break it. Minyi.” The child’s name felt weird on his tongue, but she had to know he was serious.

There was a pause, and then the door creaked open. The kid stood there, moving her hand from the doorknob to wipe at her eyes, the other hand held behind her back.

“You’re really gonna be a stupid kid and hide it from me?”

She rocked back and forth on her heels, her glasses were missing, probably dropped them when she ran in here, so she couldn’t hide her face like she usually did.

After another long pause where Huntsman debated what sort of threat he could make to a six year old without her father finding out about it and finalizing those vivisection plans he was sure he had squirreled away somewhere but constantly denied, the brat relented and held out her hidden hand, and sure enough the sleeve was rolled up to the elbow and the outer side of her hand front he base of her pinky all the way down to her wrist was an angry red.

“Dumb kid.”

She whimpered again and a fresh set of tears began to bubble out of her eyes and he rolled his. “Sit down. I’m not risking your Aunt’s wrath by not patching you up after you did something stupid.” The kid quietly did as instructed and sat on the edge of the bathtub as he opened the medicine cabinet. The burn cream was far too high up for her to have been able to reach.

She had started to cry properly now… Stupid kids crying their eyes out over dumb things.

“Please don’t tell Daddy or Auntie.” she squeaked out when he finally crouched in front of her, holding out a hand for when her own was placed in his.

“Why? You scared of admitting you burned yourself trying to make your own dinner instead of being the rational and smart kid they both keep saying you are?”

The brat kept crying as he finished wrapping up the wound until the entire area was covered over her left hand.

“I can’t cause any problems…” That… gave him pause.

Sure kids want to be good. They might be little shits but they rarely WANT to be bad kids. So if she’d said that she ‘wanted to be a good girl’ or whatever that would have made sense. But… ‘cause problems’?

“What are you on about?”

“Daddy and Auntie have enough problems, and I can’t be one too!” she looked up at him then, sniffing pathetically and hair falling in her face at her vehemence “I gotta be no problems at all! Cuz Cuz… I’m a trooper! And clever, and a delight to have in class!”

….damn here he thought obsessive perfectionism wouldn’t kick in until teen years.

“You’re six years old is what you are.” UGH… he knew what adults were SUPPOSED to do around crying children.

Didn’t mean he had to like it.

Huntsman offered his hand to the kid again, and she didn’t hesitate before sliding her uninjured one into his. He tugged her forward, and she stumbled until her little body collided with his. And to keep her from escaping he placed his other hand on her back. “Who ever told you you ain’t allowed to be a damn kid, huh?”

“Nobody…”

“Kids don’t just pick up ‘delight to have in class’ from nowhere, I'm guessing it was a teacher?”

“No!”

“Then who's messing with the development of clan young? It’s been decades since this clan has had any young, and if our only child in thirty years has had her development messed with…” the kid let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“...Nobody has to… people are always sayin' stuff about how scary it is that me an’ Auntie are the only humans in our family… that you an’ Uncle Goliath eat people… That Daddy used to be handsome but now he’s just….i forget the word… The teachers wanna keep an eye on me, they keep saying that ‘demon behavior’ might rub off on me. And it’s stupid!” She pulled away to look at him again and she’d stopped crying, her face pinched in a pout. “It’s stupid cuz you an Uncle Goliath are super cool! And Daddy is Daddy! But they’re all scared and they shouldn’t be. But…” she looked away again and Huntsman took the opportunity to lift her into the air to steadily walk them back out into the living room. “But if I start bein’ a problem then they’re gonna think its your guys fault. It’s not, but they'll think it. And they're gonna do bad things cuz they’ll think they gotta and It’ll be my fault because I made problems and I can’t make problems!”

….huh….

“Maybe I should show those grownups how right they are about how dangerous I can be, if it upsets you that much.” The kid looked back up at him and he made sure to bear his fangs properly. She’d probably get scared too and he could remind her how he and Goliath were actually in fact quite dangerous, and while her father would never dream of hurting her, those ladies probably had the right idea, too.

And then the little shit laughed at him.

“You’re silly.” But just like that her mood was better. She leaned in and before he could tell her to buzz off or drop her she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for bandaging me Uncle Huntsman. But I messed up the eggs still so I gotta make another dinner.”

“If you really don’t wanna cause problems-” he dropped her, she landed on the couch harmlessly. “-Just tell the grownup in the room that you’re getting hungry. Don’t just assume you know what you’re doing.”

She fingered the bandages on her hand again when she sat down properly in the seat. “Okay. Sorry Uncle Huntsman.”

“Just because you don’t want to cause problems doesn’t mean you have to do everything yourself. You’re literally a child.”

“Okay Uncle Huntsman.”

“Now out on one of your damn movies while I see if there’s anything edible left in this place.”

“Okay!”

More rebound than a beach ball apparently, that kid. Observant too, if she could connect probably idle chatter that… either teachers or parents of friends… would whisper about to not only her and hers, but also deduce the danger of her family being considered ‘scary’ and what she should do to combat it (whether it was a good idea or not)

He wondered how many of those scrapes she acted like she didn’t even notice were just her putting on a brave face because being seen as weak was suddenly something she thought she couldn’t afford to do.

… Minyi really was a tough kid, wasn’t she?

Send me stuff!

#lmk OCs #lmk Huntsman #letters to vega #Vega writes stories too #affection meme #I slightly edited the prompt bc Min Yi's a little tougher than that #but sheis still 6 and thus inherently stupid #OC: Minyi

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rebsrams · 4 years

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The Enneagram Series - One (Ethan x F!MC)

Book: Open Heart (OHSY)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Rebecca Valentine)

Warnings: angsttttt

Summary: Ethan’s back from the Amazon. MC can’t really come to terms with his decision to cut her off. Based on Atlas: Enneagram from Sleeping at Last.

Word count: 1,249

Author’s notes: I kinda re-imagined part of the beginning of OHSY, actually. It sounded very strange to me that MC would just try to get him back no matter what after he left her like a total coward, escaping his feelings. I just thought that she would have reacted, in some way. And being my MC extremely hot headed, that’s the way it turned out!

Song: One - Sleeping at Last

“Why do you always have to be so goddamn patronizing, Ethan?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you keep fucking up every damn thing that you lay your hands on!”

There they were, roaring at each other again.

The week they had experienced was quite rough, aiming at each other’s throat on every possible occasion and without any valid reason.

Except the fact that after his return from the Amazon, he shut her out for the umpteenth time, and soon it became clear enough to her that he wanted it to be the last.

After the first, big fight they had over Ethan’s words at Donahue’s, he decided that the wisest thing to do was to ignore her and give her time to take his decision in, although it took him an amount of effort that after two months away from her wasn’t ready to face at all.

However, his decision soon turned out to be delusional, as she began to tease him slightly on every possible occasion about his recent recanting, forcing him to stay quiet and bite every bullet in order to keep a vague appearance of dignity across the corridors.

When the situation became unsustainable to him, he began to do the only thing he was used to do when things got rough: he became a bossy jerk, continuously mistreating her to keep her away from him.

The plan obviously didn’t worked out as well as he imagined, because she began to yell at him every time he got a little too much authoritative for her taste and he, for his part, was far too proud for letting himself go the opportunity to stand up to her, his guilt only slightly moderating his tones.

At least they had the decency of fighting in his office, far from prying eyes and especially ears.

But the walls of his office were a little too thin for the volumes reached by their confrontations, and every now and then Ethan happened to notice Harper’s disapproving glances coming his way.

All that he could do was let out a long sigh, pinch the bridge of his nose and go on with his work, waiting for another day to come to an end and for Rebecca to finally draw a line under the whole situation and at least try to forgive him.

But that day, he lost it.

It wasn’t exactly something that she said or done, he deserved every cursing word coming his way.

He was simply mad and couldn’t take it anymore.

Mad with himself, for allowing to his marble heart to break down its walls and letting her in, not even thinking of the consequences.

And mad even with her, for being so incredibly breathtaking, swaying her hips and graciously laughing at the nurse station every single morning.

It was too much for him, for the cold, perfectionist, overachiever Dr. Ethan Ramsey.

He didn’t really mean those things.

He knew perfectly well that she was an excellent doctor, one of the best of her age, and most importantly he didn’t mean to say, by no means, that she was fucking him up.

He was self-destructing himself, staying away for her and forcing himself to push her away every time they got closer.

And though he was the emotionless and imperturbable doctor that Edenbrook came to know, he just wanted to loosen the reins for a bit and allow himself to feel.

Well, if he wanted to feel something, her face after those words was something that could have easily tormented him for weeks.

Totally wounded, for a moment utterly helpless in front of the amount of conflicting feelings she was experiencing.

He could read delusion, sorrow and something that he found rather difficult to pinpoint.

Maybe… Hate? Could it really be that, in the end, she came to hate him?

Well, I’d deserve it, he couldn’t help to think, the weight of what he said totally sinking in.

“Oh, well, in that case… I guess I have nothing more to do here,” she looked around his office, tears dangerously threatening to fall off her freckled cheeks.

“Have a good day, Dr. Ramsey.” She turned around, then stopped on her tracks when she was already holding the doorknob.

“On second thought…”

This wasn’t going to end well.

“I suggest you to let go of all this” she gestured around him “aura of complete perfectionism that you bring. It may sooner or later require something of you that you can’t afford to give away. Think of it.”

With this enigmatic words, she left the room leaving her characteristic wake of coconut and cinnamon mints behind her, the loud, angry thumps of her sneakers on the floor annoyingly drawing attention towards her.

Though he always knew she was the only mystery he wasn’t always ready to unravel, her words resonated loud and clear, like a bolt from the blue. Something he tried to ignore for all his life.

Everything in his existence had got to be perfect. No burrs of defects, from his tie knots to his patients’ charts. He lived strictly following routines and embarking only in situations he knew he could fully manage. Which was definitely not the case, speaking of her.

She came into his life like a hurricane and disrupted all of his plans.

Everything was so simple, before her.

Don’t marry, don’t have any kids, commit to your job completely and take Jenner out twice a day.

That’s all he needed, all he wanted. Until her.

Just needed to look at what he’d done to get over her and put his mind back to wherever the hell it was before.

He didn’t have many friends inside the hospital, but whoever knew him just an inch could tell that spending two months in the Amazon wasn’t exactly what he was aspiring to, at least at the time.

It happened increasingly that he found himself daydreaming of her, cuddled against him on the sofa, with her head on his shoulder and his hand through her ginger locks. He found incredibly hard to admit, especially to himself, that he once fantasized about her in a white dress, with orange flowers in her hair.

To bring things back to normal, he thought he just needed time and space to divide him from her, and the Amazon sounded like the further job offer he had received in the latest months.

It could have been a vaguely good idea only if he had the real guts to remain there and not showing his great punching-bag face anymore. He would have still found out that his feelings for her were still there, of course, but at least he would have spared her all the hurt that followed that unfortunate (but breathtaking at the same time) encounter they had at Donahue’s, the night he got back.

He always needed proof for everything, and that was one of the reasons why he became a doctor.

Laws of biology can’t hurt you, people can. That’s what he repeated himself throughout med school and afterwards.

He searched for predictability, order, perfection. But at what cost?

“Something of you that you can’t afford to give away”

His soul, his heart, his humanness. Things he reluctantly needed, as a doctor and as a hypothetically happy human being.

But he just stayed there, the scent of his now cold coffee floating around the room and his eyes locked on the door she went through mere moments ago.

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

So, this is gonna be angsty.

As an aspiring singer and a huge music lover, I often draw inspiration from pieces of music. Also, I’m utterly in love with Sleeping at Last, so this is just part of what I wrote listening to them.

I’m not sure how this series is going to evolve, I just know that it will have (with any luck) nine chapters.

Maybe I will go in chronological order, trying not to mess up with the original plot, or maybe I’ll just write about some slices of life involving my favourite duo.

If you have any suggestion, please write me! :)

Unfortunately, don’t know when I’ll be able to post again. I’m having a huge mole of work to do and I don’t really know where to begin! I’ll try to keep writing as a safe haven in this messy world that we’re living in.

tags: @schnitzelbutterfingers, @choicesfan10, @openheartfanfics

I’d also like to thank again everyone who’s commenting such beautiful things under my works, lots of heart emojis to you 💗💗💗

#playchoices #open heart #Open heart 2 #Open heart book 2 #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #doctor ethan ramsey #Ethan Ramsey x reader #ethan x mc #my writing #my fic

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Gen 4.1 Planning

Libi: Okay, so my basic premise for who Libi is going to be at her core, WOO; I was thinking about how we said that she is Tess' second (lowkey third but I'll let you live gal) chance at 'getting it right' and raising a child well, which, OBVIOUSLY, she's never told or anything but there's an innate pressure in that that you'd know on some level, likewise her mum AND dad died so everyone would be quick with those comparisons always, this family and Liam's mum when that contact is made because her daughter died as well as; Then that made me think of the pressure Ro felt because you know, bad shit happened to Bea (Edie and Liam in this case) and then she got saved by McVickers and felt like she owed everyone to be great and do great things; so my vibe is that BUT COMING FROM A LESS SELFISH, WEIRD, PERFECTIONISM ANGLE soz not soz Ro, we know what you did; I see her being better behaved as she grows up, far more than her parents obviously but lowkey better behaved than any of the mcvickers or cali kids ever were because she thinks everyone deserves that, her not causing any more problems, but again UNLIKE Ro, she wouldn't be different to a degree of not fitting in because she'd make a massive effort to be there for everyone and every event, be likeable and get along with as much of the fam as possible, obviously some of that is natural charm but it's also putting in the time ahem Rosaline; like, she's a people pleaser, to a fault, and all she cares about is making everyone else, Tess, Fearghal, Ali, JJ etc etc, happy and making sure she's being what she thinks they want her to be/need her to be, and like that is what makes her happy because she is doing it out of love and respect not obligation but she doesn't know she's doing it, you know? Again, it's innate, how she is, but that's where the arc can come in, in realising that she goes with what makes everyone else happy, is who they need, but what does SHE want herself, and what does SHE need? A way I thought we could make this a Bobby/Libi storyline if we wanted (but we do not have to) is if she does have feelings for him, could be any point on his timeline gfs and kids wise whatever, but she lets him go and have whatever gf or do whatever thing because she's like that's what he wants he doesn't like me or want me like that etc, because she doesn't let herself want things selfishly or do anything just for herself Bobby: we should totally have them be together as little bubs because they are and it's like a running joke that they are gonna get together/get married like we've lowkey already said but more so but maybe the vibe is he is really shy how he is and lowkey it's like a my sister and me vibe where she does all the talking and socialising for him and like all their friends are joint friends Bobby: not in a creepy Ro and Ali way but Bobby: and we will let you outgrow that sir Libi: it makes sense because obviously we're learning sign language so simply Bobby can't communicate with most kids by himself, that's facts, and it's easier to have another kid help you than Jimmy always being there, or whoever he has helping him at school, you know Bobby: oh snap maybe I flip reverse what I said and Cammie's mum is the deaf one too and the vibe could be that like Libi pushes him to get some deaf friends as they become like tweens/teens so he can communicate himself so he does and does become more outgrowing that way but maybe he lowkey leans too hard into deaf culture for a while there and she feels like pushed out by it because it's something she can't be a part of Libi: ooh yeah, that makes a lot of sense Bobby: it adds something to Cammie's character as well being hearing but having two deaf parents so that's interesting Bobby: and also makes sense why JJ have to help them so much as well as them just being young Libi: right, there's a lot of shit Cammie would have to do from a young age if not for JJ lowkey 'cos it's just easier for a hearing kid than it is a deaf adult in this world Libi: her mum could maybe be more partial for ease but yes Bobby: and like it makes sense that Libi would push her feelings aside when those two grow closer/happen because she'd be like well they're both deaf that's something I can't give him and something I want him to have Libi: exactly, it'd feel really selfish to wreck that even if you didn't have all the ingrained shit she does around it Bobby: and obviously he actually wants to be with her as well but thinks she doesn't want that and before you now it there's baby Cammie so it's like well now I gotta try and make this work because don't wanna be a shit father like I had Libi: oh the drama of it all Libi: love it Libi: and we've not really got (that I can think of) a never mind I'll find someone like you type deal Libi: because usually it's like JUST SAY IT but it actually makes sense here to pine and long but let him go Libi: hence I'm here for it Libi: So, what I'm thinking right now is, that they're like never officially together, like it just keeps being an in-joke kinda vibe and like we're JUST best friends and then kind of like family, but obviously as they get into tween/teen years it's beyond a stage you can pretend you're just a kid playing at being girlfriend and boyfriend and as you said boo, that will coincide with JJ wedding and kids roughly so then it'd be more obvious like it's not going to happen seriously, then she can encourage him to get deaf friends etc, but I feel like he should only meet Cammie's mum just before or at uni (or whatever equivalent he's doing after school) so then it is quick and not like they were even mates before so it's less of a shock for all, you know? Bobby: I totally agree because I strongly pictured him being best man at the JJ wedding (soz Pete) and her being one of the bridesmaids and all the bants that go along with that and them both being SO 😳 Bobby: and yeah he could live the cliché that Jac was mocking and literally get with this girl freshers week I'd believe it Libi: Right? it then mirrors the Jameson/Cammie thing except they literally are just BFFs and there isn't anything going on Libi: there's actually weight to this but we're just like haha no don't be silly Bobby: and we've literally not done that trope with childhood boy girl best friends before really because baze are probably the closest but they were always so clearly in love and refusing to fight it so it's fun Libi: exactly, because unknowingly or otherwise, we're fighting against all the cliches and tropes that come with this family Libi: like I'm going to not do any of those things that caused drama for everyone and this is clearly too close to home, even though I don't think anyone would actually be that bothered, we've just really internalized and gone with it Bobby: like how nobody cares Jac is gay except Jac herself Libi: right Libi: but obviously she's good at keeping this all internal because no one can or is gonna clock it and be like, babe, it's okay Libi: like JJ might be a bit like oop, keeping it in the family but as long as you're both happy they really don't care, and same for mcvickers even if Tess is suspish of everyone that comes into any gal's life 'cos trauma lol Bobby: Bobby wasn't trying to make deaf culture happen for himself but Libi would have been so excited for him to get out there and do it that he would've been excited too and then it is literally like a new world opening up because who has he ever interacted with that's deaf before Bobby: didn't mean to lowkey leave you behind gal but Libi: it's kinda her own fault, not to blame you but clearly literally what we do like okay he's happy now mission accomplished Bobby: and maybe Cammie's mum is like the deaf equivalent of those gays who make it their whole identity so she's really selling it and so he also thinks okay this is who I should be with Libi: we know the vibe, like it's more excusable but still, I get you Libi: I see it Libi: a bit of a baby gay equivalent like go too hard and you're like I need to calm this down Libi: UNRELATED BUT Libi: think it will please you Libi: Jay is born 32 like Bobby, I'm pretty sure, and I thought Libi and her would also make for interesting content because Jay obviously feels she owes a lot to the fam for not being stuck with Chloe etc etc and the very little we did with her gave off a similar energy to me Libi: and she has her commitment issues in relationships because of her mum situation so they can bond over the shit that holds 'em back even though it's different stuff Bobby: and her relationship with Ava being her mum but also not being is something I feel like Libi can relate to because of how she was raised and the Rio and Buster-ness of it all because they wanted to raise her and obvs they wanted to raise Jay for a while there too Bobby: plus all the travelling she does is something that Libi could potentially join her in doing if she needs an escape so that's nice Libi: 100% it makes for a strong friendship there's a lot of parallels if not total similarities Libi: it makes a lot of sense, it's coming together baby Bobby: if you need to get away from seeing Bobby literally playing happy families, I can offer you that gal because I'm gonna have her go to uni/live in new york probably now that Nancy isn't because her face actually did live there idk if they still do or what but Bobby: we know the vibe is that she goes everywhere and can't settle so you'll have lots of chances to run away in a way that won't upset anyone Bobby: and when she gets her man and it works out we could totally coincide that because she can be like if I can do it so can you Libi: a mood a moment Bobby: all I know is Bobby is gonna be more chatty because neither Jimothy or Jesse are so I must but not to Jude levels of !!! Libi: a nice middleground Libi: which is kind of what I see for her honestly Libi: less in your face than 1. we were as a little bub 2. a lot of the fam but still sociable enough that it jives well with most of 'em Bobby: I'm so happy about all of this and honestly Cammie's mum being deaf makes so much sense in terms of what we were already thinking about her being more distant and working a lot Libi: if she doesn't give up the fight, she could be some kind of advocate vibe Libi: 'cos then Cammie can't even call her out really Libi: like soz this is important, maam your child Bobby: exactly what I was thinking we're in sync rn boo Libi: because it all makes sense, you gotta follow one thread and then the story shows itself tbh Libi: because tying in Astrid too, obviously that makes sense because she loses her mum too, and she'd ultimately be a really good influence because after Ro dies Astrid is kind of freed to do whatever she wants for herself Libi: and how much happier it makes her, how much she improves...well Libi: sips tea Bobby: I LOVE THIS Libi: and who else is taking the autistic girl that seriously and letting her teach you things Libi: love that for you Libi: she's living her best life and we can see that Bobby: she can be in their friend group, I'm happy Libi: ALSO, I feel as if she couldn't lie to Astrid Libi: because she says how she sees it bluntly and we're not going to feel comfortable fobbing her off because of that insistence, so that'll be good for you even when we're hiding it from everyone else Libi: everyone else you've just got to be vaguely like oh no no and it's dropped and like okay Bobby: we're gonna get to show so many different sides of Libi, I'm always here for that Bobby: and however far we go down the Astrid and her gf eating disorder rabbit hole, we''ll have Libi not treating her like a kid which is great Libi: yeah, there's loads we can do with the end of gen 4 for them all it's a mood Bobby: okay so what or who would you like to throw Libi at first Libi: that is the question Bobby: just so we know Bobby is going to Trinity and studying Business, Economics and Social Studies (B.E.S.S.) which is business, economics, political science and sociology basically so he can end up working at that advertising place with Jimothy after he has done this 4 years Bobby: Cammie's mum is there doing deaf studies which is also 4 years Libi: do we wanna do a rough timeline for these people mentioned here Libi: Jay born 32, we find out about her when she's 7 in 39 Libi: Bobby is born 32 and comes into the story 38 Libi: Libi is born 34, Edam die 35, we know this situation, is 4 soon to be 5 when she meets Bobby vias JJ Libi: Astrid is born 35 and Ro dies in 44 when Astrid is 9 Libi: JJ can get married 46, so Libi is 12 and Bobby is 14 Libi: doesn't have to be when we intro the deaf friends to the point of exclusion obvs but it's timed so we never have the 'real' relationship chat of it all obvs Libi: so Bobby would go to uni in 50-51 and Camie is born 51 start of 2nd year Libi: that gives us this good 4 year period before uni to play with, then obviously we know the vibe of when she's born and making that work etc Libi: Hmm, I think it would make the most sense to do a gap year then stay local, like that's the ideal Libi: because I really think she'd struggle being away from the fam Libi: but I'm kinda thinking maybe to be cruel she DOES go away because it seems like something the fam are like yay about Libi: 'cos she'd try really, really hard to stay but they should at least notice that and she can transfer for a reprieve Bobby: that's really nice actually Libi: she should do her first year in Liverpool, the rest at Trinity Libi: okay, so film studies, it was only 3 years in Liverpool but we're changing to trinity and you do years 1 and 2 (aka whilst Bobby is still there at least for year 1 but I need to check anyway) there and years 3 and 4 at Columbia uni in new york, aka where Jay is Libi: **remind me to check the times but we need to give him a solid bday and I'm changing hers up too Libi: this is just roughly Libi: but this way we can be cruel with it lol

#gen 4 #just bibi actually but you know #a bit of jay and astrid etc

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niila-is-studying · 5 years

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disclaimer: obviously these are just tips that worked for me and my not necessarily work for you! Everyone is different + everyone’s mental health journey is different so I encourage you all to stay hopeful + keep trying your hardest even if these tips don’t work for you!

See a psychologist or a GP. If you haven’t gotten a diagnosis or any MH help in the past, you should really consider it if you are struggling. if you have received MH help in the past or are currently receiving it, now is probably a great time to re-engage with services or to reach out to your team/therapist/school counsellor for additional support. If your MH is impacting your ability to be productive, it is probably in your best interest to seek as much help as possible.

Give yourself unconditional permission to feel + channel those feelings in healthy ways. Often when I’m depressed/mentally unwell my head feels super ‘full’ of thoughts or feelings. For me it really helps to write these down as much as possible (I normally type them up in a word document for ease) and to give myself permission to do this.

Give yourself permission to rest. Try your hardest to get enough sleep + allow yourself to take naps when/if tired (but try to avoid taking depression naps or sleeping as an escape if you are busy/need to be productive). You simply can’t be productive or function to the best of your capacity when tired.

Adopt a ‘fuck you’ attitude towards your depression/anxiety/MH issue. I find it really empowering to say “Hey, fuck you depression, you’re getting in the way of my productivity but I’m going to do my very best anyway”

Accept that sometimes you have to do tasks even when you don’t want to or don’t feel like it and that you should still strive to be productive in those times. I like to remind myself of this on my down days – I don’t need to enjoy writing my essay, or find it particularly interesting, or want to do it, or write the best essay in the whole wide world – I just need to focus on being as productive as possible

Use therapy or self-care techniques that have worked well for you in the past.

Find good study music! Honestly, good study music helps me sooo much when I need to study, it makes the whole experience feel better! If you’re anxious I suggest using some calm/relaxing music, but when you feel unmotivated than it can be helpful to listen to energetic music.

Don’t let perfectionism get in your way. Yes it’d be great if you could write a perfect essay or tidy your room up perfectly, but writing a good essay (or even a mediocre essay) is better than writing none. I find that when I’m struggling with poor mental health it helps for me to try my hardest to just do things, even if they don’t end up being perfect or flawless. Something is always better than nothing.

On the days you feel okay/not so bad/pretty good/energetic/etc. – push yourself (within reason!!) to be as productive as possible. There will be days where you might be too tired/depressed/unwell/overwhelmed to be very productive, and on those days you want to be able to rest + practice self-care as much as possible without lots of additional stress about your studies/work/responsibilities.

Challenge yourself to do fairly small/quick tasks as soon as possible!

If you cannot do a task straight away (the task is too big or you really can’t do it right now) – add it to your to-do list. I keep to-do lists in my bullet journal and break them down by weekly goals, and day-specific goals.

Break down things you need to do (like writing an essay or cleaning your room) into smaller tasks. It helps me to then allocate these tasks to a day or week that I am planning on doing them in my bullet journal (eg. on Monday I want to pick up all my clothes and write the first paragraph of my essay; on Tuesday I want to wash my bedsheets and write the second paragraph of my essay). By breaking up a large task into smaller tasks, will appear much more manageable and less scary! And by setting myself specific goals for each day I am really giving myself the opportunity to meet those specific goals and then feel pleased with my productivity for the day.

Celebrate your successes! This comes under the last point. Allowing yourself to reach small goals regularly + celebrating the effort that you are putting in should assist in keeping up your motivation (using the Forest app also helps me lots because watching my little forest grow is so rewarding!

Take breaks when necessary. When I am mentally well I can easily study for 45 minutes at a time and maintain a decent level of focus, but when I am feeling quite down or depressed I sometimes struggle to focus for more than 5 minutes! Giving myself permission to take my time and work on tasks for as long as necessary (within reason) helps here

Try not to overwhelm yourself. In a time of poor mental wellbeing, your productivity should be focused on the most pressing and important tasks – not the tasks that are unimportant or not pressing.

Try your hardest to stay on top of hygiene, cleanliness, eating enough, taking medications, drinking enough water etc.

Within reason, try to add more fun hobbies or activities to your week, like watching a new TV series or spending time with friends or playing a favourite video game. Giving myself time and permission to do fun activities I enjoy really helps my overall mood + motivation to be productive

Best of luck everyone!

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thebestplltheories · 5 years

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PLL The Perfectionists - 1x01 Pilot LIVE REACTION

WE ARE BACK!!!!

Ok I’m gonna do what I was doing for PLL where I react as I watch. But before I copy and paste the live reaction, I want to give my quick overview. That was by far a 10/10. That achieved everything a pilot should achieve. It introduced us to the characters, each of their stories, and the relationships each character has with one another. It set the overall tone, that this is a murder mystery with twists and turns to come. It established what the show is about. And it had occasional small shocks (I say small because there’s only so much that can be shocking in a pilot when everything is brand new). This was exponentially darker than the PLL pilot and for that I’m so grateful. We are cutting the high school airy-fairy (is that word used outside of Australia?) drama and going straight to scandals and a murder. I’m scared to see the ratings tomorrow because I want it to do well but hey it was trending worldwide on Twitter so that’s a good sign!? The show looks SO promising. I think I’m already in love with the cast. I just want to know more about everything and everyone and omg we are back!

LIVE THOUGHTS:

Love this intro! It sets the scene very well about the whole theme of perfectionism.

WAIT IS DYLAN PLAYING POKERFACE BY LADY GAGA HAHAHAHAHA

Okay sorry but that song ain’t it (“two can keep a secret if one of them is dead”). Why does it sound like an auto tuned choir? I’m happy for change. I actually don’t want the exact same version as the original series. But this one ain’t it. Is it too late to change it???

Wait, why is Alison walking around her new apartment like she’s walking around Jenna’s school for the blind in 710? If she lived 2 years of happiness and freedom of A, there’s no need to be so sceptical of danger every time you walk into a room. Anyway, doesn’t really matter.

Just the backing music throughout the scene is very PLL-esque! Yes, there is such thing as PLL backing music. And this is it.

Mona making a grand entrance!

I feel like Ali’s reaction to seeing Mona was a bit... underwhelming? If they haven’t seen each other in 2 years I expected a bit more of an “OMG”, and a “how did you get in my apartment”, etc. But they go straight to the point and cut the fluff so I don’t mind overall.

Mona recruited Ali. I knew it. And she works at BHU, we already knew that.

Emison is having trust issues. But she wants to do this for the kids. Ok I expected more detail there to satisfy the Emison shippers but whatever, I won’t cry at night.

Ok so Mary and Alex escaped Mona’s “dungeon”. That’s fine by me. Maybe that’ll be the storyline for a PLL movie later, who knows. It’s quite a vague answer but what did we expect... Mona to ADMIT to Ali that she captured her aunt? No. Mona could never explicitly say to Ali what she did. Hence the subtle pause before “... escaped me”. Only us the audience know the true meaning of that and I love how subtle yet meaningful it is.

Why do I feel like this security system is gonna play a massive toll throughout the entire series?

Loved the little Easter egg of seeing Mona, and Mona in the mirror (2 Mona’s). A subtle symbol/reference to her split personality in PLL.

I LOVED the scene of Ali teaching in the classroom! I got How To Get Away With Murder vibes...

Remember when we all thought Taylor’s death would be the main death of the show because of that memorial with her name on it... lol. Okay I’m calling it now... come back to this in the apparently mind blowing season 1 finale... Taylor isn’t really dead WE HAVENT TECHNICALLY SEEN A BODY

Love the complicated friendships going on between Dylan, Nolan, Ava, Caitlin! There’s a lot going on about faking being friends and faking tasks to uphold the image of being perfect. I love this theme and I feel like it’s super relevant to today’s world. Like especially social media. Everyone’s instagrams are always filled of their highs. And they’re mostly edited. No one ever posts/shares their low moments.

So no one knows of Ali’s past. Hmmm. We’ve had this discussion before, I don’t think it’s realistic that no one knows the name Alison DiLaurentis - surely that was on national news when “dead girl isn’t dead anymore” made headlines. But anyway. If they wanna pretend no one watches the news, it wouldn’t be the most unrealistic thing PLL has done.

Is Dylan the gay male character Marlene said she was going to introduce in PLL season 5B? Lmao about time.

WOW that flashback of Caitlin and Nolan just gave me PLL season 1 Alison flashback vibes! Nolan plays the bad manipulative guy so well just like Ali played the bully so well in flashbacks!

Two moms don’t make a right hahahaha who wrote that

Sofia looks FLAWLESS in the pool scene OH MY GODDD. AND her voice is so soothing what the hell

Love how the first scene of Nolan’s mother shows her standing on top of the staircase and the camera panning up. Great directing there. Showing she’ll be like a supreme leader. And then the camera being over her shoulders looking down on Nolan. Again great camera work which conveys the message that she is the boss of this town. I think she’ll be our new Jessica DiLaurentis lol

“I’d like some time for myself” ... “to do what?” OUCH why is that so iconic

Eli is... doing great. He comes across very confident. A star in the making?

Love the cinematography period. And Portland is beautiful!! Better than the Warner Bros lot.

Omg Nolan’s mother gathering “attractive” people for her photo op. Lol, they really are big on presenting a perfect image.

“You saw somebody else” NO CAITLIN, ALISON SAW YOU wow these kids will adamantly lie to uphold perfectionism. I keep saying that but I just love this theme!!!

“I know a little bit about manipulation” hahahahaha Ali

Omg Ali is so good at learning their lies. Of course she is, she’s had years of practice

The woods, Nolan? Nothing good ever happens in the woods.

Lol when Nolan tells Dylan to “kiss me” and Dylan actually contemplates it (and does it). That’s the type of power Nolan has over people.

I love how Ali is trying to help them! I can see a bond eventually forming here.

This scene where Nolan cheats on Ava isn’t shocking since they unfortunately shared it in the promos but hey a douche is a douche.

WHAT THE FUCKITY FUCKING FUCK IT’S TAYLOR WHAT DID I JUST SAY ABOVE

OK I KNOW I GUESSED ALEX DRAKE BUT THIS IS A NEW RECORD FOR FASTEST THEORY TO COME TRUE

Well it wasn’t really a theory I was just joking that she’s not really dead because we didn’t see a body but still do I get a point? Lmao

Nonetheless that shocked me! I love that they’re trying to take down their own family, that’s so dark and it’s only episode 1!

Yes Alison is already getting suspicious. Solve this one please Ali

Sorry I put my phone down during that scene in the woods. I just knew it would be juicy and I wanted to immerse in it properly. I frickin adore this scene. It’s creepy in tone, set in the woods like classic PLL, they’re referring to Ali like a friend and my PLL heart is content, and this is the first time they’re all bonding over one thing: wanting Nolan dead. This is probably my favourite scene in the whole episode.

So I’m guessing the vibes are that they were being recorded in the woods about how they want Nolan to be killed? But didn’t Nolan turn off the security?

Mona gets in her car and chucks a big bag in the back seat. Where was she and what was in the baggggg

Ok that was a bit dramatic Ali (“why am I really here”)

Lol I had to rewatch that for a sec. I thought Ali said “and his dead sister who I just saw pick him up” and I was like wait what Ali knows Taylor’s alive??? No, “dead sister who I just saw a picture of”.

OH MY GOD WHAT A MISSED OPPORTUNITY!!!! THAT SCENE WHERE THE 3 OF THEM ARE WALKING AWAY FROM EACH OTHER... NOLAN’S BODY SHOULD’VE FALLEN TO THE GROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM RIGHT THERE! That would’ve been iconic. Like “oh well we were just kidding about all that, good night xx” then nope bam dead body. But I guess he had to die with poles through his chest as Caitlin said.

Oh Marlene. That’s a LOT of dialogue for a death scene. I hope you can back up and explain what Nolan is talking about before he died. Don’t you dare tell me that was an interpretative dream. Again that’s a lot of dialogue for a death scene. You better know who that killer is Marlene! Don’t make it up the day you write the finale!

I don’t like how we didn’t see Nolan ACTUALLY be killed. They play it safe because they don’t want to show us the killer in action. they basically copied the format of Mona’s “death”. Just change the scene to a flashing ambulance with a lame transition lol.

Another missed opportunity. Mona should’ve said to Ali “they found a body”! That would’ve been iconic in every way possible. First it was Ali’s body now Ali is finding a body and hearing the news and ugh oh well

My god that’s a violent death. And pretty early in the series for a Noel-Khan-level death. Too bad the photos leaked online and we knew that Nolan would not only die, but die like THAT. Those extras/fillers on set really should get charged for having their phones on them and leaking shit. Isn’t there copyright laws or something???? idk

Ummmmmm what? What kind of sci-fi, dollhouse level bullshit is that? That’s kinda over the top. Ehhhh. We’ll see where that goes.

My brain right now instantly got to thinking if Nolan’s murderer will be the “A” of the series or if the killer will just be the main mystery for season 1? Is “who killed Nolan” going to be the overarching story of the entire show or will they answer that sooner rather than later and then start a new mystery? I wonder what the format of this show will be. That’s where my mind is right now as the credits play.

#PLL #pretty little liars #pll the perfectionists #the perfectionists #pll theories #plltp #tp #alison dilaurentis #pretty little liars theories

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another-tiny-ant · 6 years

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Why an ant? What’s it all about?

So I heard that Tumblr is the place to come to vent your feelings, and I have been told by various counsellors, etc, that I ought to write things down to help clear my head. I got out a notebook and felt far too embarrassed to put pen to paper, and there was greater risk of someone I know finding it, which would humiliate me even more. So the internet it is- in true millennial form. I don't expect anyone to read this- I actually kind of hope they don’t. But I think I need to start talking, and typing/writing has always come more easily to me. Also this way, I can avoid burdening or upsetting the people I care about. So here goes...

I think mental health problems have always been there for me. I was bullied from the second I started socialising with other kids, and I’ve often wondered why that was. I have a learning disability, dyspraxia, which has affected my coordination, processing, speech (especially when I first started school), as well as other vital life skills, like organisation and planning. I know that, especially because I was undiagnosed, but also because kids are cruel, this marked me out as ‘stupid’ or ‘vulnerable’- an ‘easy target’- or whatever, but I don't think that can have been the only reason. Perhaps I was simply too timid, or kind, or willing to please, and so I got stamped all over (fortunately only ever verbally, though I say “only”...). It sounds pretentious talking about myself like that. But school was simply something to survive for me, not to enjoy, ever, for the whole fourteen miserable years I endured. Despite that, I have always had a love and thirst for knowledge and learning, and that was where I found my solace when things got too much for me- getting my head down in the textbooks (especially because most of my teachers were useless, or even abusive, to varying degrees), finding problems and then finding ways around them. I had to fight my own way through, and find my own coping strategies, because there was never anyone in school either with the time, empathy or will to care. I suppose that’s something to be proud of- I thrashed my own path through that jungle of dashed young hopes and dreams. Though that sounds painfully bleak.

I would be lying if I said I've never had friends, or fun, or love. I certainly have. Though I think my experiences have made it hard for me to trust people- I open up reasonably easily- though only superficially I suppose- but I find it very hard to trust. Friends have taught me to expect people to be unreliable. There are exceptions though. Can you tell, I’m forcing myself to be positive? I have people to see and talk to- I just crave some kind of connection or kinship that I haven’t really found from friends. The one person, however, with whom I do share that kinship, who ‘gets me’, and always not only exceeds, but explodes my expectations, is my boyfriend. Whenever I am down, or vulnerable, or upset, he doesn’t recoil, or ignore me, or push me down more, as I would expect any person to do- he gives me his hand and helps me up. He helps me brush down my clothes, clean myself up. He puts a smile on my face and reminds me that some people at least, are good. Not just good, but pure. Loving, open souls who spread positivity, like light that shines from their bodies and penetrates even the darkest shadows. And he does all of that, without even realising, or making any conscious effort. He is just himself. ‘Just’ implies some kind of put down- but nothing could be more perfect, or glorious. I don’t think he has any clue quite how wonderful he is. In fact, he’ll deny it out of hand. I wish he could see himself as he is reflected in my eyes- perhaps that would make his own battles so much easier to fight.

I have been struggling again recently. Just to state the obvious- anyone who read this I’m sure would see that straight away, just from my tone-of-written-voice. I would at least. But then perhaps, I’m different. I went to my uni GP surgery the other day- when I finally did get them to agree to see me- and tried to speak to one of the GPs there about what’s been going on inside my head. The trouble is, I stammer and struggle to get my words out, or really articulate what I mean, when I get worked up or confronted with those kinds of situations (hence this blog- my mind suddenly becomes less cluttered when I start to write- and less panicked). So the appointment really didn't go well. Added to that, I was very obviously quite under the weather- but the first thing I was told when I arrived was that “we can’t possibly address more than one issue in this appointment”. My mind becomes so much foggier when I’m ill, and my ability to cope becomes virtually non-existent. The only times I’ve ever punched bullies have been when I’ve also been unwell. Anyway, when I started trying to describe how i’d been feeling (and failed dismally to convey quite the aching bleakness I feel in my chest sometimes), the doctor googled a depression questionnaire, and got me to score myself on the questions. Naturally, I paled at the thought of potentially over-exaggerating, as I’m permanently paranoid of undermining the much bigger battles other people experience, so as always, I under-played everything I was feeling, and the results were pretty unrepresentative. Even so, I scored on the depression scale (though that sounds like an utterly arbitrary, bullshit scale to say the least). I suppose that was her way of telling me she was diagnosing me. Five minutes later, I was turfed out of the seat I was in, and clutching a list of phone numbers she’d handed me, as I walked out of the surgery, I felt no closer to mending myself that before I went. If anything, I felt even more cut loose and abandoned, in an institution that wouldn’t care if I lived or died. That’s not to say I’m suicidal, but I do often feel so overwhelmed that i just want to get on a plane and fly far, far away, and never come back.

In case you hadn’t already guessed, I’ve kind of forgotten where I was trying to go with this. I suppose I’m just pressing keys and spewing words and hoping that I will suddenly feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. Nothing that miraculous has happened, but I do suppose I feel somewhat better for getting things off my chest. I suppose I just find it hard to see the good around me sometimes, and I take for granted what is special around me. I can remember from pretty much when I started talking (and more importantly, people started understanding me- let me tell you, that took a while), I was always called a pessimist. I have to consciously remind myself how lucky I am. I suppose that's why I feel so ashamed to talk about what's inside my mind. But I have my health (physically at least). I have my mind (for the most part). And I have potential. Most importantly though, my family could not be more supportive of me, and openly loving, and I couldn't be luckier to have my extraordinary, sunbeam boyfriend. Christmas is coming up, and not only will i get to escape university, but I will get to go home and spend quality time with the people I love most. I’m not in the slightest bit religious, but I love how everyone makes an effort to put all the crap to one side at Christmas, and just share their love instead. Beyond that, there will be the summer. So there is hope. I just have to keep reminding myself.

I remember now what the whole point of this post was. Haha! What did I say about my planning ability? I wanted to explain my Tumblr name/blog name/whatever-the-fuck-its-called, but basically why I am referring to myself as an ant. The basic reasons- it’s anonymous, first and foremost. But its also non-identifying, non-gender/age/class/creed/etc-specific. The real reason though is that it comes from something my mum has always said to me. So I’ve always been criticised for being a ‘perfectionist’. A counsellor even sent me links to webpages to read all about perfectionism, procrastination, and self-destruction. If I were to write an honest CV, those are probably the ‘skills’ I’d boast about. So when I get worked up about not doing a “good enough” job of something, or putting too much pressure on myself, or I’ve fucked it all up, my mum gently says to me something along these lines:

“We’re all just tiny ants, scuttling around on the log of the Earth. None of us are more important than the other, but none of us are that important either. That’s not to depress you, but to remind you that existence is short. You’re not around for long. Don’t spend your life stressing about what you’ll achieve. Just do good. Even if it’s just in small ways. Treat people right. Care about the right things. Be kind, always. Make the small changes that you can and live happily. That's what it’s all about in the end. Just do the good that you can.”

That’s not to say that she doesn’t support any ‘big’ ideas that I have. Or that she doesn't tell me “you can achieve anything you set your mind to”, because those are also things she says to me all the time. What she means is take comfort in this perspective- don’t make things matter too much. Save your energy and enjoy your life, because life is short, and you do only get one go at it. And that perspective of being a tiny speck, if even that, in the plane and timescale of existence has always frightened me, but I think I am finally maturing enough to understand what she means. Live your best life, to the best of your abilities, with the best people, and love freely and plentifully. Don’t get yourself wrapped up in what it all means, or what the point of it all is. You’re just an ant- but not “just” an ant. You are a being with a life that you are going to live as best as you can. So this is me, trying to come to terms with the point of it all, but not wrapping myself up in “the point” of it at all.

I’m Another Tiny Ant.

🖤🐜🖤

#anothertinyant #lifeonthelog #comingtoterms #mentalhealth #selfcare

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danvssomethingorother · 7 years

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Fanfic Recs

In honor of fandom fic rec days, just want to take a few minutes to just recommend my favorite fanfics from around the web. Please head the warnings because I like angst so rape, torture, and just all sorts of unpleasant stuff does appear in some of these stories (which I say beside the fic). I also listed the pairing, if there are any as well. I have been in fandoms for a very long time and have quite the extensive amount of recs, so I will not list all of the stories I enjoy, just my favorite stories I have read and re read the most when I am at my lowest or am just bored.

Please do not be upset if I don’t rec your story fellow fanfic writers! If I have read your stuff and commented on your work, I do love it but these stories are my favorites and stories I don’t only love and enjoy but stories I don’t think I would be capable of living in a world without and some are so old they helped shape my own writing style as you know it today.

Batman

In Re Robin

Warnings: Some blood and child abuse

Summary: After the extent of Robin's injuries from Harvey Dent comes out, Child Protective Services decides to save Robin from a vigilante lifestyle. Follow up to Robin, Year One.

Why I love it so much: Its not uncommon to use the story line from my favorite comic, Robin Year One by Chuck Dixon, but this one does it in a way that is special and captures the feel of why I loved that comic to begin with and made Bruce and Dick’s relationship more realistic and fleshed out then most stories dealing with them being father/son.

Broken Glass

Warnings: Eating disorder

Summary: Dick Grayson has always been a perfectionist. But what happens when perfectionism goes too far?

Why I love it: This fic has been in my life for a long time, while all my other angst fics either got deleted or I grew out of because I realized they were bad, this one has stayed with me because its extremely in character and despite its kinda weird premise for a super hero story, it freaking works. Its so good and I love it.

Daddy, Not Bats

Warnings: Some violence (its a super hero fic)

Summary: AU, continuation of 'A Father's Request'. Join one 'retired' Batman as he raises his kids all together while trying to still save the world with this version of the Justice League. One Shots, mini-series, and headcanons, life for the Waynes is always interesting to watch, especially since they can't leave crime fighting behind them. T for paranoia

Why I love it: I had to choose one story out of all the fics where Bruce raises all the Robins at the same time and this one is my favorite and it actually remembered Bruce’s daughter Cass, which most of these AUs don’t. You don’t need me to keep telling you about, I don’t want to give much away, go read it!

Miss Congeniality and the Bad Ass Ninja

Warnings: some language

Summary: Dick pays a visit to the Wayne Manor gym, where he meets the /delightful/ new addition to the family. Brother bonding fic. K plus for Dick's potty mouth.

Why I love it: This is another case of I had to only choose one out of the hundreds of stories I like about Dick and Damian bonding and I think this one is my favorite. Its in character and feels like something they would talk about and I really love it.

Teen Titans

With this fandom, I have a theme, so I am going to just dump it down now. If you want really well written Robin being Slade’s apprentice fics, these are my favorites:

Basic Skill

summary: Slade might have Robin blackmailed into working for him, but he can't get him to kill anyone. That's no good for an assassin's apprentice. NOT SLASH

Northern Star (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6478556/1/Northern-Star)

Summary: Life as Slade's apprentice is hard for Robin, but even harder for those trying to save him. Murders, schemes and hatred flourishes as the Titans, Batman, and the JLA struggle to help him. Meanwhile, Slade has a nefarious plan in mind for the Batman...

Since it is my favorite theme, I have more stories I like with this theme but they are too many to list and some of my favorites have been deleted over the years which is just disheartening. Also these two authors are great go read all their work.

But my favorite author in this fandom has to be melimash

All of their teen titans work is jaw dropping and wonderful, I love it all so damn much. I can’t even express how much I love every single one of their stories, I wish I had half the talent they do. They are amazing and I have been looking up to their skill for years now.

Harry Potter

Casting Moonshadows

Summary: Lonely and outcast by his classmates, Remus wishes on a moonshadow for a friend who understands him. To his amazement his wish is answered not once, but three times, by his former enemies, the Marauders. SBRL and some JPLE as well, of course

Warnings: Child abuse

Pairing: Wolfstar

Harry Potter and the Nightmares of Futures Past

Summary: The war is over. Too bad no one is left to celebrate. Harry makes a desperate plan to go back in time, even though it means returning Voldemort to life. Now an 11 year old Harry with 30 year old memories is starting Hogwarts. Can he get it right?

Warning: Child abuse and PTSD symptoms, this story was also written Pre- The Deathly Hallows, so Snape is presented as evil. I don’t mind because I don’t like Snape but I can see how Snape fans would hate it.

Pairing: Harry/Ginny

Another Prisoner, Another Professor

Summary: AU. In Harry's third year he must learn the many truths about the new DADA teacher, Professor Black, and an escaped convict, Remus Lupin. Eventual SBxRL.

Pairing: Wolfstar

Harry Potter and the Something Something

Summary: Hey, wouldn't it be cool if someone took as many fanfic cliches as possible and stuffed them all into one story? No? Well, I went ahead and did it anyway. Multi-chapter Mockfic. This summary is actually a lot better than I originally thought.

Pairing: None

Against the Moon

Summary: The odds were stacked against him: a child from a blended home with no friends, no social skills to speak of, and a terrible secret. Yet slowly Remus Lupin began to realize there was a place for him in the world, if he could find the courage to claim it.

Warnings: Canon prejudices, blood, child abuse

Pairing: I believe the author has said you can see it as wolfstar but it won’t be official in the story.

HP is my biggest fandom and I have read hundreds of stories with these same ideas and themes over the years but these are my favorites because they are just that damn good.

Lord Of The Rings

Devoted (http://mariole.livejournal.com/23137.html)

Warnings: RAPE, I mean graphic stuff, please do not read if you this subject upsets you or you are underage.

Summary (there isn’t one so this is from the author’s note of the first chapter): This is a disturbing fic. Frodo is raped in his home (post-Bilbo, pre-Quest), and has to deal with that. I don't know why this topic has been pulling at me, but it has and there you go. I know this fic will not be for everyone. Frodo is basically a het character, so there are some het references and scenes. There is also slash, both requited and un-, throughout the piece, as various characters explore their sexuality and feelings for each other. The main hobbits are Frodo, Sam, and Merry. Pippin pops up now and then, but he's only 13 when the main action starts, so we don't see as much of him (sorry, Pip lovers!).

Pairing: frodo / sam

Why I love it: I tried not to put too many questionable stories I have enjoyed onto this list but I can’t leave this one out. This is the best characterization I have ever seen for the hobbits.

Treasures (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/854350/1/Treasures)

Warnings: lots of child abuse and its abandoned, never to be completed

Summary: AU - Gossip ran through the Shire that Bilbo Baggins possessed a great fortune in the depths of his home. Several ruffians attempt to seize that fortune by kidnapping his beloved nephew and holding him for ransom.

Why I love it: Its just so good. I love Bilbo and Frodo’s relationship, I love all the angst, and I will always mourn we never get to see the conclusion of this fic.

My favorite authors I can’t pick a favorite from:

MBradford (Some warnings for this author they ship Frodo/Sam and made cute stuff with them and their main series involve attempted rape and kidnapping)

shirebound

Gravity Falls ( my current fandom)

This one is a little harder for me to pick my favorites and keep the list somewhat small. Since most of you are following me for this fandom, I’m gonna break up this one into categories and list my favorites from those categories since I know most of you are GF fans following me and care more about these recs then the other fandoms.

Ciphford

Cold

Warnings: THIS IS MATURE. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER AGE. It involves Non Con and psychological abuse.

Why I love it so much: It is so chilling and breath taking how they set up and conclude this angst filled masterpiece. I feel like if any story inspired me to make ciphford abuse, its this one.

Not One to Forget

Warnings: Non con elements

Why I love it: Its just so good and full of emotion that always manages to hit me right in the feels, please consider reading!

Nonconsensual

Warnings: Non con (duh with a title like that)

Why I love it: Its just so sad and such a punch in the gut every time I read it. I love it so much...

Fiddauthor

Fresh Start (you should just read all of @memyselfandyoutube ‘s work but this is my favorite by far)

Warnings: Technical kidnapping, memory loss, mental health problems

Why I love it: I loved it so much I even wrote a companion piece to it but I feel like the original should get more attention then my work. The build up to the reveal, the tension, the characterization are all just so spot on and perfect. I love this little piece and implore everyone to read it.

You Have A Home

Warnings: Child neglect

Why I love it: This story has just started but like everything @amydiddle-fanfiction writes its looking to be a great story, that I am excited to read.

Gloves

Warnings: None

Why I love it: Its one of the cutest fiddauthor fics I have ever read and I adore it.

The Vandals

Warnings: Bullying

Why I love it: Ford protecting Fidds is just so good, so very good.

Fiddlestan

In Which Stan Occupies A Certain River In Egypt

Warnings: Mental illness, physical illness

Why I love it: I have a weakness for stories where my favorite is ill and needs to be taken care of and this is everything I could want and more. God, its just so good. I’m not even a huge fan of the AU this is set in (where Stan raises Mabel without Dipper) but oh my gosh, everything is just so perfect from the characterization, set up and build up of the relationship and so forth. I love this fic, I have read it a dozen times already will likely read it a few more times before I am finished.

A Helping Hand

Warnings: None

Why I love it: Its so unique to find a story that jams this much character into a story with out a single line of dialogue (as a writer I know how hard that is to do so this is a big deal for me) and this story just gives me goosebumps on every re read.

Brawl Brawlers

Warnings: Jimstan and some violence

Why I love it: I’m not a fan of jimstan, so the fact I’m recing anything that implies it should tell you why I love this. Its just cute and I can like when Fidds shows his more abrasive side. Logical book thief is a great writer and I highly recommend all her work but this is just the one I read most, I think.

Fool's Paradise

Warnings: this story is rated M and there are sexual themes and violence, so any one underage shouldn’t read

Why I love it: How could I not love it? It is packed with great characterization, fidds suffering, and an AU where the mystery trio all end up happy together. This is my favorite fiddlestan and I would be incomplete without it.

Good Days and Bad Days (http://nuttersincorporated.tumblr.com/post/120295190724/good-days-and-bad)

Warnings: Panic attack, self harm (harm pulling)

Why I love it: Its just so good, I love the hurt comfort, its so well written and good. Also worth checking out is this author’s longer story ( Memories ) but it is sadly incomplete and may be abandoned

Gen

Fiddleford's Secrets (this one is part of a series that you can find the rest on the author’s page Topaz88)

Warnings: None

Why I love it: Its an interesting take on Fidds origins I have never seen before and really enjoyed it, along with the rest in this series. Its a series about if the mystery trio and I recommend everyone read.

We're All Broken

Warnings: Mental illness, homelessness, its incomplete and I fear it might be abandoned

Why I love it: Its just so enjoyable and an interesting idea of Stan coming to town and helping out a broken and homeless fiddleford and his brother who is going down hill because of Bill.

Wednesday, 12 Dec. 1979

Warnings: Injuries, mental trauma

why I love it: Do you know how hard it is to find a good story that deals with Fiddleford’s canon trauma after the gremlobin? Because as a Fiddleford fan, I do and this story was absolute perfection and the author was a saint for creating it.

We Made It Through The Night

Warnings: None

Why I love it: Its a very beautiful story filled with wonderful characterization and so much emotion to punch you right in the feels. Mabel and Fidds bonding over trauma is an interesting idea and is executed masterfully by @forest-of-stories like all her work I highly recommend.

http://biteinsane.tumblr.com/post/156126664230/i-have-always-wanted-to-read-something-with-tate

Warnings: None

Why I love it: Its very short but its so sweet. I never really read stuff involving Tate and Fidds and it was a joy to read.

Authors

Princessedelarue (all fiddlestan)

theblindtorpedo (all fiddlestan)

Logias (Meggletron) (all Fiddlestan)

CeslaToil (fiddauthor and gen but really just read her work, its all great and you won’t regret it)

tallykale (all fiddauthor but sadly not active anymore)

Hannahbette (an archive of Hannahbette’s old fanfic that have now been deleted from this site, all are fiddauthor and all are great)

And you know, you can always support me here, if ya want to of course. I’m egotistical enough to like my own work, so you might like it too.

#ficrecdays #fanfic recs #fanfic rec #I love all of these stories #I love more but these are my favorites

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letsdiscoverkitty · 7 years

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Hi Kitty. I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts on this issue - I notice a lot of people in recovery talk about anorexia and themselves as being separate entities - although I do understand the rationale behind this (I suffered from anorexia for many years and this was the approach most mental health professionals took), I wonder what impact it has on self-efficacy and one's belief in their ability to change? I never had much success with treatment, but have now recovered... [1/3]

The most important factor for me was taking personal responsibility for my choices. I actually found the mindset, "anorexia wants [x]", "anorexia is making me [y]" pretty unhelpful. I now work in the field of addictions (drug/alcohol) and although I recognise there's a lot of differences between substance use and disordered eating, there are a lot of parallels too, and I feel that gaining confidence in one's ability to make choices is a really important part of recovery. Your posts and responses are always very thoughtful and reflective so I'd really like to hear your views! Apologies if the question is too intrusive or difficult to think about at the moment, please feel free to ignore if you would rather not answer! All the best, and congratulations on the progress you have made so far!

Hi there anon, please don’t apologise for your message, it is actually a very interesting topic that you bring up - and now that I am in a bit of a better place mindset/nutrition wise I am able to think ponder on such areas/thoughts.

I remember when I first tried to read the book “life without ED” I was filled with utter confusion as to how this lady approached her recovery and her illnesses. She learnt, through the programme she attended, to separate herself from the ED voice, mainly by naming it as an abusive partner, along with other ‘beings’ such as Miss Perfectionism and a others that escape my mind right now.

Personally I have never seen anorexia as a separate identity to myself - It has always confused me when people have describe it like another “being” perched on the their shoulder or in their mind. Because, at the end of the day, the thoughts inside of my head are my own voice - thy feel like mine.

I will admit that when I often WRITE about the things that go on inside of my head I do use the “anorexia wants me to do x” and I suppose this is my way of internally processing the decisions and thoughts that I am having (which I am not able to do in the moment/when I am not reflecting/writing) and deducing whether they are disordered or not(?).

I agree that the person needs to be able to make choices - actually I think it is essential. An approach my team takes, and it is something I have noticed to be the main difference between children’s services and adult services, is the ability to OWN your decisions. E.g. they do not impose or enforce x y or z because they know that in order for change to occur and for it to be stuck to and mean something, it needs to come from the person themselves. There is obviously a huge dilemma here, especially when the illness is very dominant at a particular point in time, as it can be hard for the person to see what the best decision/action for them will be. And I believe this is where motivational work comes into play; by carefully teasing out the logical thoughts and helping the person to see the “bigger picture”, you can slowly help to build their motivation - which in turn enables them to make decisions - and ones that are in their best interests.

I think when you start thinking into it too deeply you can go off on all sorts of tangents, but I can see exactly where the links are between the realms of eating disorder and addiction. I think the most important thing in “recovery” is for the person to feel like they are at least holding a bit of the reins - having all control and decisions taken away is not always helpful, especially as the person needs to be able to take them back at some point down the line...No, they may not be able to take it all at once, but that’s okay, and thats why there are services and support networks around an individual to make sure that they have the guidance and help that they need. But with time the necessity for such a tight grasp on the reins from services will lessen and the individual, sometimes without even realising it at first, will begin to take more control of their recovery, and in effect their life and their futures.Recovery, from whatever it may be, takes a hell of a lot of time and persistence. And I think it is important to remember that everyone is different. For some people it might be really beneficial to separate themselves from their eating disorders by naming it and trying to externalise the disordered thoughts, however for someone else this might be unhelpful. And that is why mental illnesses are SO hard to tears/there is no one treatment that works for everyone - we are all individuals. The human brain is an utterly amazing organ; it always fascinates me how we all share the same organs and they have the same functions but the human brain (and soul) is what makes us different. When it comes to mental illnesses there are neural pathways that have been misdirected and with the amount of pathways in the human brain for the neurones to go whizzing down, of course everyone is going to be different. There may be similarities between sufferers, however we need to remember that everyone is different; we arrived in these places for many different reasons and I think it is important to build our own recoveries on what helps US most - not just what helps or has helped others (of course there are always going to be general principles that remain the same e.g. returning to a healthy weight for the individual, increasing daily intake, working on disordered behaviours etc). It would be great if there was a “one size fits all” in terms of recovery from anorexia/EDs/mental illnesses, but I think, as we are learning in the psychological developments today, there is no such thing. They are incredibly difficult to treat, but not impossible; recovery is possible.

Gosh I have gone on a bit of a ramble haven’t I! But yes I think this is an important topic that you bring up and it will be interesting to hear what others find helpful/don’t find helpful as well as what the progressions, in regards to the approach to the treatment of eating disorders, will occur over the coming years.

I hope that things continue to go well for you, thank you for the interesting discussion (: Take care of yourself x

#Anonymous #asks

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iqkittygirl · 4 years

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So like I’ve been debating if I should start writing fic or not bc I have so many ideas but idk if I can write at the level other writers bc y’all are writing ART and I just really don’t want my shit to suck LMAO but do you have any advice???

PLEASE START WRITING FIC. it’s honestly so rewarding and amazing and oof. i can’t recommend it enough. i’ll tell you what helps me the most.

1. try and let go of perfectionism. writing is NEVER going to be perfect. there’s always going to be room for improvement. write what feels good to you, rather than in a style you should adhere to because it’s how others are writing.

2. close your eyes and picture things. conjure up the scenario in your head and use all your senses. for example, i used this for an upcoming fic i’m writing alongside HtD and it’s predominantly based in a cottage, so i asked myself; what would trixie see? hear? smell? taste? feel? how’s the temperature? what season is it? is the fire running? you have to set up this little location in your mind that you can always come back to and add more details. it always helps when you can envision the scenario, and pop that down on paper, or type it out. having moodboards or pictures to aid you can help too, if that’s your thing.

3. watch, listen to and read things that inspire you. i have four main mediums that i go back to when i write HtD - two music video clips, and two films. if i’m ever stuck on something, a quick fix is to watch a scene from the film that mostly pertains to what i’m writing. with the ladies who lunch chapter of HtD, i took a lot of inspiration from the lunch scene in ‘scarface’, and turned it on it’s head. it also helps in terms of visuals and descriptions.

4. show, don’t tell. if you can describe something, rather than have a character say it, then do that...or do both. i try to do this as much as possible with trixie and paul in my fic. i detail what happened in the past, and then re-iterate it with dialogue.

5. if you are comfortable, draw from personal experience. there are things in HtD that i’ve literally plucked from my own life - moments i felt like i could capitalise on creatively. i’ve taken a lot of what i’ve learnt about myself recently, and put that into trixie’s journey of growth, and confidence, and love. i also have a few things coming up in future chapters that have literally happened to me. think about the little things that often get neglected. think about past relationships you’ve been in and how you could have bettered them to create something stronger, and give it to those characters. take your past mistakes and write them in a way that gives your character closure or excels their storyline. i don’t know if this is TMI but at the moment, i’m still the happiest person i have ever been - though it’s not always been like that. so many things have shaped me into this expansion of loving myself and not giving a fuck about what other people think, and it’s those little tidbits that i want to include with trixie and her character arc. if you can send a message to your readers with your words, then great. if not, don’t get too caught up in it. this is escapism, but if you feel the need to work out your own feelings in an alternate universe, then don’t hesitate to. writing is for you, just as much as it’s for everyone else.

i hope this helps. i apologise that my points were so messy. i love you, i hope you find so much joy in writing.

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zygomatic-process-2018 · 5 years

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Breaking The Wheel

For years I have lived a life of safe decisions. Situations and circumstances from my childhood led me to believe that one false move could destroy my life. This may have been the birth of my perfectionism and OCD tendancies. I honestly felt that every decision I had to make had to be the right one so I wouldn’t end up broke, alone and homeless.

As a child I experienced things that made me believe that I would never get ahead in life. I thought I wasn’t very smart, that I didn’t have a lot to offer the world and that I was destined to live a bad life. Let’s please remember that a child’s perception can be molded when properly attended to but adults rarely attend to themselves, let alone their children. I don’t recall people asking me about how I felt about anything, how my friendships were going, etc. I didn’t feel comfortable to share anything, and no one prompted so I have kept most of my life to myself. Regardless of the events of my life, this is no one’s fault but my own. My fault starts when I learned of a better way to live but acted in the same old ways that I always did out of fear. I hope that makes sense.

A lifetime of “safe” decisions led me down a path of a life that wasn’t really for me. I followed direction of adults around me, all the way up until I was 30. It was around that time that I realized I wasn’t truly happy. I had made decisions out of fear and what I thought was going to happen. Life has taught me how to prepare for the worst, because in my mind, nothing good ever happens to me. Good things appear because I’ve worked for them, not because anything was gifted to me or fell in my lap. While my peers took family time for granted, I struggled to find direction in a broken home.

Thoughts are powerful. They shaped major events in my life by creating stories that weren’t true or creating worst case scenarios that weren’t actually happening. The fear of what could happen caused me to make decisions regarding the safety of my spiritual, emotional, physical and mental well-being. They shaped what I thought I would amount to. I believed I didn’t bring anything to the table because I learned early on that if I was perfect, everyone would leave me alone and I wouldn’t feel as bad about myself. I was sensitive and any form of criticism was an attack on me, because everything I had done in my life was ME driven. Although the decisions were made out of fear, they were still mine. Any criticism of my actions meant that there was something flawed with me as a human. I didn’t realize that my thinking could be flawed and I could still be a good person. I associated people’s perception of me on a scale of self-worth. I didn’t have a guide to show me how it didn’t matter what anyone thought, it only mattered what I thought. I chose not to have a guide. I could have talked to someone about how I felt, but I never felt safe doing so. I would cry at things people thought were odd and I was labeled emotional. No one took the time to ask me why I was crying, they just wanted me to stop. This is where I learned to shut off my emotions and at certain emotional points (even today), I completely shut down and become transactional. People think it’s because I’m cold and I don’t care. It’s actually the opposite. I care too much and at the times I feel like my heart can’t take what is happening, I become completely numb. Years of therapy have taught me that this is a learned behavior that is considered a coping mechanism for childhood trauma. I haven’t begun to dig through that, so I’ll have to put a pin in that one. it’s hard to believe the compliments that are given to me, even now. I always think people are being nice or doing that thing you learn in kindergarten where you give compliments equally to the class so no one feels left out. I’m slowly learning things aren’t always what I think they are and I’m practicing positive thinking because my thinking is broken. “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

For me, safe decisions were the ones where I had little to lose. I would choose the options where I would seemingly win but remained unchallenged. I only did things I was good at because why do anything that will make you look bad? I stayed loyal to friends whose morals and character didn’t align with my own. I didn’t want to watch people tag each other doing fun stuff on Facebook, and it’s sad to see how far I sold myself short just to be liked. I remained a workaholic and my body started paying the toll with complete exhaustion, anxiety and an eating disorder. Never once did I think that I should calm down. I thought I was working toward a promotion that never came. I dove into 12 step work and their society with full force. If I was going to be in recovery, I was going to do it all and be the best I could be. I went to college full time on top of all of that because I thought for sure a degree would solve my problems. Clearly if I’m writing about these things, these decisions weren’t the best ones. I didn’t choose these things because i wanted them. I chose them because they were the least scary of all options available to me at the time. That is not a way to live, it’s a way to survive. Pretty intense right? Learning how fearful I really am has been a hard pill to swallow. I always thought I was tough; I scare grown ass men for a living after all. Turns out I was just afraid of life and clueless on how to live it.

Somehow along the way, I woke up to what I was doing. I was 30. I made the “mistake” of trying to unpack years of baggage before taking the lifelong commitment of marriage. It felt like the right thing to do because I didn’t think there was that much to work through. It was worth it to be a good wife, so I faced my problems head on. I am a bull in a china shop; all confrontation and sharp edges. Gentleness and fragility rarely see the light of day in my life. See life had taught me that nothing could hurt you if you stayed hard. I would tell myself, “Don’t let anyone close, you can’t trust anyone, they always leave or hurt you, just give them enough so you can have fun but never give them every part of you.”I spent a lifetime toughening up and really didn’t think I had that much to work on. I thought for sure that the 6 years I had done in recovery had solved the majority of my issues.

For anyone that doesn’t know, 12 step work is very challenging. There is a reason people become addicted to things (people, substances, events, places, you name it and it’s most likely an addiction to someone). Life is hard. Not everyone has been given a framework for the harsh realities of what happens through the course of one lifetime. I became delusional as to what my life was and lost meaning in my value as a person…if I ever valued myself to begin with.

I am not alone in this. Just look around you at the habits of others. Most people spend lots of time in traffic surrounded by road rage, they have a few drinks after work to take the edge off, they plop down in front of the tv and zone out for a few hours. There is so much content out there that you only get to watch a few episodes of something and all of a sudden it’s bedtime; the entire routine starts again. Now imagine that routine is unbreakable because it’s become too easy or you’ve become too dependent on it. You work super hard and your tolerance to whatever your “escape of choice” is gets bigger so you need just a little bit more. But that little bit adds up over time and all of a sudden you can’t stop this routine. No matter how bad it gets, you just can’t stop.

This for me was alcohol and the thought of living without my crutch seemed impossible. I wasn’t a full blown alcoholic yet, but I identified with the beginning stages of alcoholism. I’m smart enough to know that the alcoholic road is scarier than facing reality, so fear really saved me here. My decision, which was based on fear, was to stop drinking. I went where my friend led me and I have been without alcohol for 10 years.

Through various stages of recovery I have gotten the opportunity to dig through my thought processes and see patterns of behavior that I don’t want. I had to be ready to see that though. I find that people don’t want to look at themselves or their actions. It’s easier to get into that routine, and partake in bad behavior like gossiping, giving “constructive criticism” which code for insulting people under the guise of being helpful, leading potential partners on so you feel desired, shunning people because it makes you feel superior, etc. I believe that this is why people are unhappy. They distract themselves to avoid the hard work of living. They carry stress and worry with them; it’s quite a heavy load. 12 step recovery is designed to help you work through your issues using a spiritual and altruistic approach. It gave me purpose and direction at times, when I was able to help others in recovery.

The first time I went through the steps with a sponsor I was skeptical. I liked what she had: a husband, a house, a dog, a full time job, etc. That was the ideal life and I thought I was lucky if I got just one of those. I never thought all of them were possible for me because I couldn’t stop my terrible routine, nor did I think a person like me could be worthy of anything so special. My first round of steps I treated as a homework assignment. At the ripe age of 24, I still had a child’s mentality. I had lived on my own for 6ish years and had the maturity of a 17 year old. I was rebellious but I also knew how to play the role of a goodie-two-shoes. I had spent my entire life filling roles to get by in life. I felt as if I could play any part in a movie because experience had taught me how to blend in. I remember handing my sponsor a written out inventory that had a cover on it as if I were turning in a college paper. When she told me I had to read it out loud to her rather than have her read it out loud, I died inside. I didn’t want to say the things I had written down. The things I had written down was all the pain, suffering, anger, resentment, hate, and events where I had been a victim of someone else’s bad behavior. To say them out loud meant that I had to acknowledge that these events happened and it was the first time I would have to do something about them. I had lived years avoiding feeling anything, that this was mind-blowing. Even worse, the biggest part of the inventory is where you see what your part in the situation was. Often alcoholics like to only focus on the other party’s fault and never to take ownership of their own part. Normal people act this way too, but I’m sticking with what I know. So now I had to see what actions I took in response to the things on the list.

Needless to say, the first inventory was surface level crap. It didn’t get down to the causes and conditions the way my next inventory went. The next one came at a time where I was humbled beyond belief. I had just come out of a break-up with a narcissist and had no idea how to navigate life. I was 3 years in to physical sobriety and I had zero emotional sobriety. I had followed direction of my 12 step support group but their direction didn’t give me the results I wanted. Quite frankly, the results I wanted weren’t true to me, they were other people’s desires I felt I should have. I had unrealistic expectations. At that time, I only did things if it meant that I would get something in return. I wasn’t truly helpful; I was a selfish child masquerading around as an adult on a high horse. I thought I was spiritual when really I had no clue about anything on the spiritual realm. The amount of work I did to overcome this was painful but I uncovered areas of my life that needed attention.

The sponsor I had at the time recognized so many things about me that I hadn’t seen and probably things I still don’t see. I followed suggestion (which is dangerously known by the civilian name of “commands” in 12 step culture) like the good 12 stepper that I am, but I still felt as if I was following a life that didn’t fit. I jumped around recovery groups for a while but realized that the life I wanted meant that I needed to step off the paved path of 12 step recovery groups and onto the rugged road of living life for myself. It was hard to walk away because I had thrown myself so far into that realm that I didn’t really know how to live anymore.

12 step programs are known for poor behavior, which is really a disservice to the program. Everyone has an uncle/brother/sister/friend/etc who was once in a 12 step program but has since left. 12 step program’s own members shoot themselves in the foot by avoiding the hard work of uncovering, discovering and discarding character defects and habits. 12 step groups provide a lot of structure, but at a certain point that structure can become a prison for those of us who see the program for what it is. The program encompasses spiritual principles, and the people in the group aren’t supposed to be authority figures. Why these groups find the need to name a Messiah of the group is beyond me. I don’t blame the Messiah of the group either. If I were put on a pedestal even after doing horrendous things to my spouse, friends or other group members, I would eat that $hit up too. Just call me Mary Harris and carry my step stool peasants.

::insert bright white light and parted clouds::

Celebrate me in all my glory!

Oh and don’t forget to bring the Krispie Kreme donuts on time or Old Timer Hernandez will character assassinate you behind your back. Don’t you dare cross her either. She is program famous and will make your life miserable. <—Why do you people put up with crap like that? Are you really that weak and scared to stand up for yourself?

I’m personally waiting for the day to run into some of these people so I can tell these people what the rest of the world thinks of them, since program members can’t do it themselves for whatever reason. Someone has to say something, or the behavior will continue or get worse. The real world (which I’m now a part of for once) doesn’t care if your water cups are poured correctly. Set yourself free and let go of these idiotic rules people make. Why do you want to be a part of their group so bad? Is it so you can have the notoriety of belonging to a prestigious group? Is it because you are too scared to try something else? They do scare you by telling you that if you leave the group, you will drink and you will die. They also tell you that “the people who left the program must not be doing well because they never come back to tell us that it’s good. They only come back with horror stories.” <—yeah, because once we see your group’s insanity for what it is, you run and never look back. Why would we come back? I’d gladly do 10 mins and inform you of the benefits of leaving, but until I’m asked, I guess I’ll just have to write about them.

Some of these groups are glorified forums for character defects and the slogans in the group go something like this: “Suit up and show up no matter what” “My feet are trained to go to meetings no matter what.” “No matter what” is a huge deal for these people, but it eliminates critical thinking from the equation. When members are taught “no matter what,” some go to the extreme and sacrifice work, family obligations, and self-care in order to fit in. I know I did, and it took a toll on me. I realized that I was willing to do the work “no matter what” and I did it. Yet I was surrounded by people who spoke the same way as I did, but their actions told a different story. I no longer wanted what these people had because I could finally see through them for what they were. They were alcoholics with no clue on how to run their own lives, and instead of working on themselves, they would use their sponsees to inflate their egos. There were unspoken contests of how many “babies” you had, which was code for how many sponsees found your life attractive enough to ask you for help with their own lives. If you didn’t have any, you were worthless, unattractive, and you better hurry up & get your $hit together or you’ll drink/die. If you had a tough life event and you weren’t sure why the event was happening to you, members would ask a series of questions, searching for the one thing you weren’t giving over to the program. Questioning goes something like this:

-How many meetings are you going to per week? “Correct” answer: if under 3 years of sobriety, you should be at a meeting every day. Over 3 years, you should be going to no less than 3 per week.

-How many “babies” do you have? If the answer is zero or a single digit number, you were instructed to get new member phone numbers and in essence force yourself into their life because it will magically make your life better.

-How many panels do you have? These are meetings that are taken into hospitals or institutions. If the answer is zero, you better go get one. If the answer is one, the follow-up question is “why only one?”

-When was your last inventory? It doesn’t matter what the answer is, it’s always time for a new one.

When the members stumble on the one out of one thousand things you aren’t doing perfectly, that is your prognosis and you better hurry up to fix it. It was never an explanation of life being life. If something bad was happening and you were struggling, it was always your fault because you weren’t doing enough program work. In my own quest for freedom, I found flaws in myself that I wanted to be rid of, but I also found flaws in the support group members that clearly weren’t a priority to amend. I couldn’t take them seriously anymore because I started seeing these people for what they were. They too were alcoholics and I no longer believed that their answers were right for my life. I was scared but this was the first move in the right direction to freedom. This was the moment I separated myself and my belief in the spiritual principles from the group at large. I knew better and I finally had the courage to act better.

This was the most radical decision I had ever made. I was leaving the safe nest of comfort for the dark and scary forest of fear. I felt like I had no choice in the best way possible. “I stood at a turning point and asked God for His care and protection with complete abandon.” I am proud to say that this life I have now is mine. It’s not based on anyone else’s wants or needs. I’m not doing what someone thinks is best for me. I’m not following someone else’s path and getting upset that the path was wrong. No, I am taking ownership of who I am and I’m facing life head-on. The battles I’m fighting are emotional, mental and spiritual. It’s an inside job and only I can take action on the changes that need to be made. I’d hate to be the one to say this, but although the program helped me create a slight foundation, I feel it did more harm than good for me. It works for some people, but for me it created confusion.

I want to leave you with this. You have one life. One. Single. Life. Why spend time worried or live suffering when there are other ways out there to live? Why blindly follow what a group of people tell you instead of making your own decisions? Please know that not all advice given to you is from a pure place. Some people want you to fail because it validates their complacent life (e.g. “See that’s why I don’t XYZ. Mary XYZ’d and she failed. At least I’m not a failure like her.”). You might only tell people half truths where you always look like the good guy <—advice given in response to an inaccurate story will NEVER work. You might be surrounded by the best people with the best intentions and their advice still doesn’t work, because it’s not aligned with your Truth. My unsolicited advice: follow the path that makes you feel happy, joyous and free. You can always change your future by changing paths but you can’t change your past decisions. Live in a way that gets you the life you want not the life that is given to you by default. You deserve better than what you have, but it’s up to you to do the work.

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