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dokidokitsuna · 1 year

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Looking forward to playing my first Splatfest ever! As you can see, I’m Team Sour~

I feel like I’m in a kind of odd in-between position; where I’m new enough that I can still relate to the Christmas noobs, but experienced enough to already have a solid playstyle and a few weapons of choice…and if there are any fellow new players following me or casual players who are just looking to improve, I’d like to share a vital piece of wisdom I’ve gained over the past ~1.5 months:

Find your comfort zone, and make it your niche.

Before, when I used to imagine what it’d be like to play Splatoon, I thought of myself as a ‘support’ player, who’d probably spend most of my time inking turf and helping my allies defeat enemies, rather than going full offensive on my own.

When I actually started to play, I did do that for a while (out of fear XD)…but before long I started trying to copy everyone else, thinking that jumping straight into battle was the ‘right’ way to play and that I needed to stop being a ‘coward’. Long story short, I got killed A LOT doing that (lots of unhappy memories with the Reefslider…), and I found myself getting more and more frustrated after matches, and eventually I thought “Y’know what? Clearly this isn’t working…maybe I should just go back to the non-confrontational approach”.

I made a point to stop using weapons with specials that made me try to get into the middle of fights, and stick with specials I could use from the sidelines (Tacticooler, Wave Breaker). Then I went back to playing like a ‘coward’...and I started learning things.

My first breakthrough was literally just learning tactics-- watching player behavior, and figuring out how to exploit it. For instance, when my team was getting cornered or otherwise unable to advance, I would use the ‘suicide run’: sneak around the side of the map and make a mad dash into enemy territory. Not necessarily to ink turf, but to simply get everyone to turn their backs on the front lines and focus on the intruder (who is always seen as the more urgent threat). If you can survive for at least 10 seconds, it’s a valid strategy, and doing this on the regular also taught me evasive skills pretty early on. When you’re constantly getting attacked by 2-3 people at once surrounded by enemy ink with no one nearby to help, you learn fast. ^^

My next breakthrough was learning to aim…which is a valuable skill that not everyone has, believe it or not. ^^ And as the person who usually wandered off alone to ink all the unloved corners of the map, I often found myself in a position to sneak up on enemies and quickly splat them when they were focused on other things…which eventually became the cornerstone of my playstyle.

At this point, I’ve gone back to focusing on inking turf and ‘Splat Assisting’...but I do it not out of fear of trying other things, but because I’m GOOD at THOSE things and now I know how to do them in the most beneficial ways. I’ve learned to ‘splatter’ enemy turf to slow down opponents’ movements and draw them out of hiding, and even to paint escape routes for struggling allies. My aim’s gotten so good that anyone I can hit before they notice me is usually splatted in 2 seconds, and I specifically target people who are preoccupied so I can get those kills. Yesterday I racked up 21 in Clam Blitz (a mode that, just last week, I was afraid to even try) just by doing what I do best and ‘assisting’.

All that is to say, what you feel comfortable doing (in any MMO game, really) is probably what you need to be doing; you just need to get yourself the right tools and tailor your playstyle to accommodate it. There are lots of types of skillsets that can be useful in Splatoon, and lots of ways to work with each weapon class (and Salmon Run is a great way to trial-by-fire yourself into finding weapons you never knew you’d click with…once upon a time I almost considered becoming a Splatana main). Just go with your gut, believe in yourself, and always prioritize having fun~

#splatoon #octoling #splatoon 3 #musings

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cringefaildiaz · 1 year

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I feel like the reason Buck feels so different after he died is tied to how hard it is for him to accept that he's loved and wanted. Like what's actually changed in him since the lightning strike? He had to face that his life is good and full of people who wouldn't want to live without him, and that even with all that, he's still unhappy.

Natalia is the first person who's interacted with the idea of Buck dying lightly. Everyone else, in varying degrees, has been somber and serious, because they lived in a world without him, and they hated it. So how comforting, for a man who's comfortable with the discomfort of being unloved, still squirms at the idea of being wanted just because he's him, to run straight into the arms of someone who see's him as a miracle (the miracle he couldn't be as a baby), as a fascination. A tool to better understand something. Because being seen, known, loved so deeply is foreign to him.

It ties into the sperm donor decision, it ties into the will conversation, it ties into the goddamn lawsuit, it ties into everything about Buck. He's uncomfortable being loved. And until he gets comfortable with the idea that he alone is enough, he's going to keep making the same mistakes.

#you can know youre loved and still not be healed from the fact that you decided so long ago that youre unlovable #fact and feeling and the conflict and coexistence of the two #i think in the earlier seasons we saw him misinterpreting genuine love as malice/pity because he'd literally never experience it before #and now that he knows what love looks like and feels it directed at him we're seeing him grapple with how HARD it is to accept #when he still feels fundamentally unlovable.#s1-5 was him learning what love really looks like. and since the bucktaylor breakup he has to learn how to accept what he can now recognize #mans is deep deep broken #911 spoilers #911 spec

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elvesandlanterns · 1 year

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Cale Anti-Hero

It wasn’t often that Cale found himself alone. There was always ‘something’ happening so it was totally reasonable that he wanted to take advantage of his new found free time. They had settled on singing; it had use to be Cales favorite pass time with his mother, he had not sang in years and for Kim it had been even longer. ….. they really should had been more careful.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Ron stopped short of the mansions entryway, Hans and the kids rushing in only to quite. They had all planned to come home earlier today. Had no one told Cale?

Ron huffed, what was this puppy saying? Cale had matured so fast in such a short time, too fast even.

Midnights become my afternoons

Raon chuckled it was just like his human to sleep the whole day away if he could! Good thing Lemon gramps was here to wake him up!

When my depression works the graveyard shift

The wolf children stopped smiling turning to look at Lock, “What does that mean!”, “What’s wrong?”, “Hyung Lock haven’t you been taking care of him!”. Lock stilled beside Beacrox, no no this couldn’t be happening how could their savior, the man who took them in be so unhappy?

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

What did that mean, Cale had never killed anyone if anyone was to be haunted by ghost it should be me though Choi Han. Listening in from a different room in the house, having taken an entrance through the window instead of the door like a reasonable man.

I should not be left to my own devices

Alberu seconded that! Cale never does know when to leave shit alone. He’s been surprised to have gotten a call from Cales children only to be welcomed with the sound of beautiful singing. But Alberus’ stomach began to twist he had a bad feeling just where this was going.

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crises

Rosalyn started next to Alberu ready to teleport at a moments notice! Cheeks puffing in anger, just who on Earth would go to Cale demanding money? And enough to put Cale in crises… maybe this was before from when Cale use to be a trash drunk ? The lyrics did say “vices” after all hhhmmm

Tale as old as time

I wake up screaming from dreaming

The dragon and cats looked at each other in confusion, Cale loved sleep they definitely would have noticed if he had nightmares!

Ron closed his eyes and sighed, oh those nightmares after the first Countess had died. Was he the only one that ever knew about those? Not that he was of much help, Cale was nothing like his own son he still didn’t know how to confront or comfort him at all,

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

'Cause you got tired of my scheming

For the last time

Positively Everyone froze, what? Did Cale think that they would all just abandon him?

Deruth began to cry, he didn’t want to see this anymore. Who had decided to share such a thing with them in the first place? It never would had been Cale. That child never aloud himself to be so vulnerable in front of his family. In front of him. What kind of a father had he been?

The Henituse family could here Deruth crying but no one had any words to console him. After all wasn’t this there fault? They had made Cale feel so unloved and unwanted in his own home that he now believed that no one would stay with him if give the chance.

It's me

Hi!

I'm the problem, it's me

Cage was beginning to regret picking up the call from Cale kids right now. Taylor was utterly distraught and admittedly so was she. Cale was a good person! Their very own lucky charm!

At teatime

Everybody agrees

Basen felt ashamed. He remembered getting into verbal tirades with Cale the first few times his trashy behavior had started. He had told him to act better, for the family’s social reputation if nothing else! But just how many of those tea times included demeaning his brother as a part of the entertainment. And then he had just yelled at him and told him to go back to endure more. He was a horrible brother.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

Pasetons face flushed a tad, he had considered Cale a bit vain actually. Not that he didn’t have a right to be! But did Cale perhaps not enjoy looking at himself? Did they perhaps have this in common?

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Antihero? But Cale was a hero! Sure he did unsavory things to reach his goals but.. but… did it perhaps bother Cale? He always did say he wanted a slacker life.

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I'm a monster on the hill

If Violan had been less dignified or more hot tempered she would have thrown her teacup into the wall! Instead she rose from her seat to talk to her husband, no one no matter how noble was going to get away with making Cale feel uncomfortable in his own body! Violan smiled, no doubt Cales new body guard and vice captain Hilsmans knights would agree.

Too big to hang out

Slowly lurching toward your favorite city

On and Hong hissed! Yeah to save it!

Pierced through the heart but never killed

Something in Choi Han broke, Cales voice cracked as if he was crying. He never wanted to hear Cale cry, it hurt so much to not be able to do anything- he’d do anything.

Did you hear my covert narcissism

I might disguise as altruism

Like some kind of congressman

Alberu hummed at that, did Cale hate politics that much? What is this feeling ? Oh right guilt.

Tale as old as time

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

For the last time

It's me

Hi!

I'm the problem, it's me (I'm the problem, it's me)

At teatime

Everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Choi Han decided to join everyone else at the parlor, he couldn’t take this alone anymore.

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

On and Hong were outraged! They would never love someone so despicable!

Meanwhile every adult was enraged! They would protect Cale and his little family - was that why Cale loved money?

The family gathers 'round and reads it

And then someone screams out

"He's laughing up at us from hell!"

Cage was bewildered why would Cale ever think he would go there? And didn’t Cale not believe in god?!?!

It's me

Hi!

No one knew what to do after the song ended, everybody in person or on call was as tense as a bow string. There were no words to break the tension.

Cale was beginning to play the piano again, oh dear god now what??!?!

#cale henituse #cale and KRS are the same soul #cale and KRS can visit each other in thier shared dreams which leads to Cale sleeping at the oddest times and places #songfic #cale singing #cale misunderstandings #drama #writing inspiration #writing prompt #anti hero taylor swift #Choi Han #Choi Han doesn’t know popular music #trash of the count's family

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joyboythehopepunk · 8 months

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unlovable ramble

i would consider myself a spiritual person. and as someone who has seen a lot of suffering and wants to understand the human condition i have looked at ... a lot.

i have looked at history, cultures, and their ideologies. i have looked at science - medical, geographical, mathematics, etc

but it seems the blame ultimately lays with our circumstances - both inner and outer.

there are some things we have the power to change on an individual or collective level. there are other things that may always be out of reach.

like 100% control of oneself or one's environment 100% of the time.

saying "everything is suffering" so one must "detach" and so forth? it makes sense in that sort of hopeless way.

as someone who has wanted so desperately that I hurt myself? that it pushed people away? that i could see nothing else of value?

yes. i get it. i want so badly to stop wanting. for anything. to be dead seemed to me a sort of restful bliss i would only dream of.

because then i wouldn't have to deal with the fact that i am so heartbroken. that i am so hurt by what i've experienced that i see no hope for the genuine connection i seek. that i hold this thing on a pedestal when i may not even be able to savor or feel it..

my heart, my mind, my soul all feel the same way: it would hurt less to stop trying to be close to people.

it would be less painful to see myself as an unlovable monster than a broken human... if only because there are PLENTY of broken humans who receive love without chasing it. without wanting for it so badly.

idk. i'm tired.

detachment. attachment. it all matters how you do it, right? either way, i'm wrong. so.. it doesn't matter for me. there isn't anyone out there for me. not the one i'm looking for.

probably.

and if i rid myself of all my perceived flaws, what then? that will leave me where i started any way. searching for someone who doesn't exist.

ah. but i'm seeking enlightenment. so maybe love from others doesn't matter? (though it is untrue. i am sure there are people who love me or who are fond of me. i just... want the one person i'm looking for.)(no other relationship appeals to me)(i've always felt like that)(detached from people)(like there's not a real connection there)

ah. but i have to hide a whole half of my self for people to want to be around me. and do i want those sort of people? ofc i shouldn't. and i don't, really. but i have been alone a very long time. and i can't help but wonder "if everyone is hiding themselves this way, no wonder everyone is fucked"

there is this.. aspect of the culture that is very much about healing and growth and spirituality. but it is.. like virtue signalling. buzzwords. it's a vibe. consumerism. clout. a way to say you're "better". easily processed, easily done... instant gratification.

but this is digging into your unconscious, your subconscious, and conscious minds. this is re-creating yourself from the ground up.

maybe i'm the only one wrong here.

but if you can't be unhappy, if you can't express sadness/despair, anger etc. CAN'T.. then what are you doing but repressing? asking other people to fake? to hide their pain? why? that isn't how you heal - by ignoring a wound.

this has gone on long enough.

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itgraphsandcharts · 10 months

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hi everyone! asexuals, i need your help!!

hi y’all! its been forever since i’ve posted here, and i’m so sorry for that. i made this account when i was homebound and dealing with becoming disabled as a teenager, and the community you gave me got me through some very tough times. as i came out of that period of my life, still disabled but i went to therapy and tried meds and many other things that improved my life, i abandoned this account. it reminds me of a time in my life when i was deeply unhappy, and i am also no longer in the fandom. thank you to everyone who made my life just that little bit better when i was all alone, i truly will never forget it 🩵🩵🩵 (especially @andaleduardo , who i am not sure is even active anymore but was always a great motivation)

as it happens, i have moved on to bigger and better things. i’m an english major in college and working on my first novel! it’s about a t4t couple discovering that their identities do not make them unloveable. one is ace and one is disabled. this book will be a love letter to all those communities who feel othered by society, who feel like they’ll never find true love.

as a disabled trans person, i have most of my bases covered. but i am not asexual. i would love to have an ace person’s input to make sure i do this community and identity justice in my writing. i am looking especially for people who are both trans and ace who would be willing to share how those identities intersect and what their experience is. i will value any input you have as i have no experience with this identity. if you’re ace and trans, or even ace and cis, please reach out! i would love to ask you a few questions! thank you so much!!

#ace #asexual #ace community #transgender #trans #trans man #ace and trans #trans and ace #queer writers #writers on tumblr #queer books

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hiding-in-my-blanket-fort · 1 year

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Okay so I'm usually very comfortable and very relieved to be aroace. But sometimes, the repeated invalidation wears on me. And then I end up going through the whole questioning phase AGAIN so I just needed to get some things off my chest.

I hate when I share my experience as an aspec person, even within the community, and someone always has to pipe up with, "Oh, I thought I was a late bloomer too. Until I met someone and now I don't feel that way anymore."

Listen. And I mean this with all my heart: kindly shut the fuck up.

Unless someone is seeking relationship advice, don't say that shit. It's condescending and invalidating.

It also puts me right back into the questioning cycle all over again and I'm really, really tired of revisiting that phase for the hundredth time. It took me YEARS of research and questioning and denial before I finally felt comfortable saying that I was aroace and non-partnering.

Then someone has to come along and say, "You'll change your mind!" in some flavor or another.

And I'm spinning out again.

Am I really aroace?

What if I'm just picky?

Maybe I'm a really unlikeable person and no one wants me.

What if it's just generational trauma holding me back? What if it's social anxiety messing everything up?

Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Maybe I need to date, even though I have no desire to do so. But other people seem to know what's best for me, right???

I'm tired of people telling me that my value and my happiness hinges on someone else. No matter which way you look at it. If I don't rabidly hunt down a romantic partner, then I better have a QPR. If I don't have a QPR, then I better have some really good friends.

NO. I. do not. feel fulfilled. with. people. End of story. I've lived for over thirty years on this planet and I've never experienced a very close personal connection with someone. AND THAT'S FINE. I'm tired of being told that I have to do everything in my goddamn power to change that because I can't POSSIBLY be happy on my own!!!!

You know what does make me very unhappy??? When I'm told that I'm inferior or screwed up because I don't have someone to validate my existence as a human being. As if my life has no meaning until someone, somewhere, in this big wide world, sees me and says, "You have worth because I said so."

When I was growing up, my parents told me to act more like my brother so people would like me. They pressured me to be someone I'm not because prioritizing other people's favor was more important than valuing myself.

I'm tired of waiting for someone to notice me. I'm tired of putting my life on hold, waiting and waiting and waiting for some "magical person" to make my life amazing and allegedly bring me happiness.

You know what that does? It makes me miserable. It makes me depressed. Every year that passes and I remain solo, I wonder, "What's wrong with me? Am I unloveable? Why does everyone else have a special person but I don't?"

If you met someone who changed your view of the world, good for you. But there are times where you should keep it to yourself, rather than bragging about how your relationship made your life so amazing.

And DO NOT get me started on, "Oh, your forever person will find you when you stop looking and when you least expect it."

Bullshit. Once again, implying that my worth and happiness as a human being hinges on someone else. Once again implying that EVERYONE will partner up eventually because YOU can't seem to fathom anything differently. Because it makes YOU uncomfortable to think that *I* do not have a partner which challenges your viewpoint so you try to MAKE IT FIT by saying, "You will change to suit me and what I believe."

Just leave people alone.

#aromantic #asexual #pride tag #ace talks to herself

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firsttarotreader · 1 year

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From your last reading being drawn to things that are exciting but guaranteed to fail. I'm wondering if this is a result of traumas he went thru and lingers. Like his blog where he wrote everyone leaves him,feeling like a burden,that he has an unlovable heart,that everyone abandons him. Maybe that's why he looks for short connection, out of fear to really bond and make real plans, imagining a future but then fear being abandoned and feeling like you are not enough. He fears to go that path again so he chooses the safest shortest way to fill a void for a little while. Even if he feels lonely, he rather chooses to be alone then go thru that 💔. I wonder if its lena who broke him this badly that he fears to make plans in life whether its buying a home,finding true lasting love,starting a family.... like in esquire he said he avoid all that pain of loss by not having relationships or kids yet when asked about kids and him playing dads saying he loves... he likes imagining it. Or 2022 mando panel, learning thru grogu that love between a child and a father, then saying maybe he should have a kid. Like it shows that his has those feelings but repressed them and avoids attachment. And he now fills that void with family, friends,travel,maybe a few flings but now with fame he might be more self restricted and now he gills it up heavily with work.

I understand what you mean, anon, but we also need to remember not everyone who doesn’t want relationships or kids are “repressing” a desire to have them because of bad experiences in the past. Because this makes it sound like having a relationship and kids are the “default” desire and need for everyone, and if you don’t have them, you’re “incomplete” and deep down “unhappy”, but this is something we are raised to believe by society. The fact that Pedro has his issues and has been through heartbreak before doesn’t mean he is avoiding relationships and kids because of a “repressed” desire, as if he’s unhappy and suffering for his decision. He seems to be just fine being single and childless, and dedicated to his career.

I am saying this because I keep getting anons from people (not directing this at you) who simply cannot accept that. They keep trying to force a “desire” and “a way out” for his lack of relationships and kids like he has to have it deep down or that he has to have it in the future. He doesn’t and he’s fine this way. If it changes it changes, and if it doesn’t, he’s still gonna be fine. ✌��

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that-ineffable-devil · 1 year

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Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 2

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Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here to introduce our dear Steve Harrington and the angst that is his familial relationships. We also see Tommy Hagan being the eternal douche that he is, but also some lovely early Stonathan teases--teases only, I'm afraid. Steddie's endgame here, but I can't help it if our Hawkins boys have so much chemistry.

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter references Steve's familial trauma. While there are no explicit scenes of abuse, there are references to it and the effects it has on young Steve.

Chapter 2: The Unloved

Steve’s first lesson was also simple: “Harringtons don’t make mistakes.”

But, as most would agree, children learn best from making mistakes. And Steve made so many. It didn’t seem to matter how hard he tried to get it right. To Harringtons, effort didn’t matter—only results. From this, Steve learned that love was always conditional—that affection was reserved only for people who do everything right. Though he wanted nothing more than to make his parents happy, it seemed like an impossible task.

To the rest of Hawkins, Steve didn’t appear to be an unhappy child. He smiled often and was always polite. And while his parents weren’t very well-liked in the community, they were respected and very well off. They always made sure Steve was presentable—dressing him in the nicest clothes and expensive shoes. He always had the newest and best of everything. To everyone else, they were a perfect nuclear family. A perfect little family in a large, empty house.

Steve’s father was often away for work, so he didn’t see him much. When he did, it was rarely an enjoyable experience. No matter what he’d done, no matter how hard he’d tried, nothing was ever quite good enough to meet that man’s expectations. And if Steve had made a mistake during his absence? His stomach churned just thinking about it.

Richard Harrington was not a violent man—words were his weapons of choice. With the right words, he could bring anyone to heel—even his son. He chose his words carefully and used a tone laced with cold disappointment. His smiles were reserved for the rarest occasions, weaponizing them to give Steve hope that he could please his father. But Steve saw how his father’s smiles never reached his eyes, failing to mask the dispassionate malice behind his dull, dark eyes. Even Steve’s accomplishments were met with disdain—either he should have done better, or whatever he’d accomplished was not worth his efforts.

His mother wasn’t as frigid toward him as his father, but she kept a certain distance. She never interfered during Richard’s judgements—or even comforted Steve after a particularly brutal one, preferring to act as though nothing had happened. But he’d never known her to be unkind, and when they were alone, she was warm and loving—though always from a distance. So, Steve held tight to the belief that his mother, at least, loved him. While her love was still conditional, it came easier than his father’s.

There were no hugs in the Harrington household. No kisses, no tickling, no physical affection whatsoever. When he was young, he used to cry for his parents to hold him when he was scared or sad—or even just to feel them there with him. Mr. Harrington would leave the room in these moments—remarking to the room how whiny and needy “the child” was. Steve was never his child unless he was talking to potential clients. Steve wondered sometimes whether he owed his very existence to his father’s career ambitions, because the man never seemed to want or even like children beyond this utility. “But then,” he’d counter himself, “maybe he just doesn’t want me.”

School was a different story. At school, he had friends. Kids who smiled at him when he entered the room, who sat with him at lunchtime, who played with him on the playground. His best friend, Tommy Hagan, was always with him in school. They sat next to each other in homeroom, ate lunch together, and even stayed over at his house sometimes. Tommy liked to watch the other kids and crack jokes about their style, or hair, or anything really. He had so many opinions, and he wasn’t afraid to share them.

Steve was enraptured by Tommy—he was so confident when he spoke, and people would listen to what he said. When he smiled, his freckles would crinkle up into his dimples, and even teachers would give him whatever he wanted. Steve made it his mission to make Tommy laugh, too—he loved to hear that infectious hyena cackle. There was no laughter at home…except the cold, cruel huff his father gave when Steve did something particularly stupid.

And he was stupid. He knew that. His father never let him forget—and neither did his teachers. He’d tried to explain—the letters and numbers would jumble up and change as he tried to read them—but no one wanted to hear his…his excuses. They just wanted him to try harder. And he did try—every single day—but what the other kids could read in five minutes might take him forty or more. So, he knew he must be stupid if everyone else could understand the jumbled letters and he couldn’t.

But Steve wasn’t terrible at everything. While he struggled with most classwork, he absolutely excelled in sports. He was a natural, and it felt so good to let out some of his pent-up energy every day at school. After hours of mind-numbing lectures and painful assignments, getting outside or into the gym to let off steam was euphoric. He felt that if he could always be in motion, everything else would be fine. Unfortunately, even star players had to pass English literature.

Steve had a particularly brutal essay due on Friday—5 pages on Hemingway—and he hadn’t even started. The deadline loomed heavily before him, and he was beginning to panic. If he was going to pass literature and stay in sports, he needed at least a B on this essay—an insurmountable task if there ever was one.

“Hey, Tommy,” Steve began as he picked up his school things, the bell for lunch clanging loudly throughout the halls.

“Ready to go to lunch?” Tommy replied.

“Uh…you know, I’m not really hungry—and I gotta work on that lit paper.”

Tommy laughed loudly. “OK, sure—and by ‘work on that lit paper’ you mean ‘make out with a girl in the stacks,’ right?”

“…You got me,” Steve chuckled nervously, hoping he’d kept his face passive.

“Sure man, no problem—I’ll even cover for you in the next class if things go on a little too long, if you know what I mean,” Tommy winked as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out of the room.

Steve’s mouth was dry—he didn’t like lying to his best friend, but he didn’t want Tommy to make fun of him either. Skipping lunch to do schoolwork was decidedly uncool in Tommy’s opinion. Steve grabbed his backpack and headed toward the library, hoping Tommy wouldn’t ask for details later.

The library was even quieter than usual, as most of the other students were in class or at lunch. The librarian, Mrs. Stedwell, raised an eyebrow as he entered—he wasn’t exactly a regular here. He smiled and waved politely, hoping not to draw any further attention. He detoured quickly to the left, hunting for Hemingway’s works. Squinting at the myriad book bindings, his heart leapt when he found a copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls still on the shelf. As he shot his hand out to grab the book, another hand crashed into his.

“Ow,” Steve remarked dully, hearing it echo from the owner of the other hand.

“S…sorry, are you OK?” the other voice asked timidly, though both their hands still hovered over the book binding.

Steve turned to look at the other student.

The lanky boy next to him jumped and looked down when Steve looked at him, his mouse-brown hair falling into his eyes and hand still outstretched, but now further from the book. Steve knew this kid—Byers. Jonathan Byers. Tommy liked to make jokes about how his long hair made him look like a girl, and that his clothes were always old, worn, and ill-fitting. Steve would laugh along, but he didn’t really agree. He always thought Jonathan had nice hair—certainly better than the neatly cropped and side-slicked cut his parents demanded he maintain. Jonathan’s hair looked soft—pretty, even—if Steve was honest. And yeah, his clothes were a bit worn out, but they looked comfortable—unlike the constant itch of new clothing. His parents rarely let him keep anything long enough for it to become comfortable.

Steve realized he was staring when he noticed Jonathan’s eyes jumping between the floor and his face, looking confused.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Are…are you all right?”

The boy nodded without raising his head, now keeping his eyes squarely on the floor—Steve wondered idly if the boy was nervous.

“You’re Jonathan Byers, right? We’re in the same homeroom.”

The mousey boy’s head jerked up, looking at Steve with wide eyes. “Y…yeah, that’s me. I was just…” Jonathan’s voice dropped suddenly off as he looked away again.

Steve’s brow furrowed as he considered the other boy. Were people scared of him? Was he scary? He certainly didn’t think so. His father was scary, but him? He didn’t even know how to be scary! And he really didn’t like the idea of anyone being scared of him. He didn’t want any more in common with his father than he already had, so he chose another option, smoothing his expression into a relaxed smile.

“Cool, I’m Steve. Steve Harrington,” he said in a friendly tone, moving his hand away from the book to extend it to the other boy.

Jonathan stared blankly at Steve’s outstretched hand for several seconds too long before grasping it in his own and shaking it.

“R…right…Um. Nice to actually meet you?”

“Yeah, you too, man! So, Byers, what brings you to this cozy corner of the library during lunch?” Steve asked with an increasingly warm smile, leaning his shoulder gently against the bookshelf. He’d hoped he looked cooler than he felt.

“O…oh, well, I haven’t finished…that essay. The one about H-Hemingway.”

Jonathan was still looking away, his voice trailing off and his body tensing as if he expected something awful from Steve. He just laughed in response—not noticing that the other boy flinched at the sound.

“Oh man, you too? That’s rough.”

Once again, Jonathan’s face snapped back to Steve’s with a surprised expression.

“You haven’t finished either?”

“Man, I haven’t even started. Honestly, I struggle with this stuff, so I’ve been putting it off…but I ha…I have to…” now it was Steve’s turn to go quiet.

His traitor of a mouth had said more than he’d intended, and he didn’t know if he wanted anyone else to know about his trouble reading. If it got back to Tommy, he didn’t know how he’d react, and he didn’t think he could survive becoming one of the boy’s targets instead of his friend.

Jonathan’s face softened, looking at Steve with less fear and more understanding.

“Yeah, I get it. Gotta keep those grades up so you can stay captain.”

Steve nodded, a nervous chuckle bubbling out of him. An awkward silence hung heavily around them, the library suddenly seeming far smaller, both boys looking at each other—or maybe through each other. After several moments had passed, they both looked down to discover they still hadn’t released the other’s hand. As though synchronized, they jumped and retracted their hands simultaneously. Steve felt his cheeks flush. Noticing the pink tint on Jonathan’s face as he looked away, Steve felt a strange, fluttering twist in his gut—maybe embarrassment? But he was accustomed to feeling embarrassed and ashamed—those feelings hurt, and this was just…odd.

Jonathan cleared his throat, looking back at his shoes.

“So…” he said softly, before taking a deep breath and looking back up at Steve—who was steadfastly eyeing books on the shelf opposite of them.

“Since we both haven’t finished our essays and we both need this book, how about we work on it together—I bet we’ll both get it done faster. What do you say, Harrington?” he said, his words coming easier than before.

It was Steve’s turn to flick his eyes back to the mousey boy, surprised by the sudden shift. His eyes darted across the boy’s face, noting the smile curling across his lips—the first one Jonathan had offered him. Steve felt his brain stutter, like all its gears had locked in place and snapped his mouth shut. That is…until Jonathan’s smile faltered, and he looked down again.

“Look, if you don’t wan…”

“No! I mean, yeah! That would be great, I’d like that,” Steve rushed out, smiling brightly, “Though I don’t know if you want my help—I might bring your average down, Byers.”

They both laughed loudly, earning an even louder “SHHH!” from Mrs. Stedwell somewhere in the library—which prompted several more seconds of uncontrollable laughter.

For the rest of the week, Steve and Jonathan met at the library during lunchtime to work on their essays together. Steve kept up the pretense with Tommy that he was meeting a girl to “make out” so Tommy would cover for him if he needed more time. Tommy didn’t seem too suspicious, though he did keep trying to get the name of the mystery girl—or girls, he’d suggested. Steve would just shrug with a smirk and say, “a true gentleman would never kiss and tell.”

On the first day, Jonathan seemed to pick up on Steve’s trouble reading through the material, so he started reading the passages to him—quietly. Steve’s heart flopped uncomfortably in his chest when Jonathan started reading aloud, unprompted. No one had ever tried to help him; they’d just make fun of him or accuse him of being lazy.

Jonathan also noticed that, once he processed the material, Steve had a deep understanding of it. His interpretations were insightful and refreshing—he just seemed to see the world differently. This was not the Steve Harrington he knew—that anyone knew. Something small, but warm unfurled in his chest, like a dragon rousing from its slumber. This was his Steve...h-his friend, Steve. A version only he got to see, and no one else.

Steve was experiencing his own revelations. He’d never met anyone like Jonathan—he was kind and understanding, he was funny without any trace of judgement or meanness, and he was just…Jonathan. He didn’t try to be anyone else. Steve had never known that was even an option—he always had to be Steve Harrington, son of Richard Harrington, heir to the Harrington misery. For the first time in his life, he could relax, feeling as though the steel strings that bound him to a cold, uncaring reality had gone slack. Still present, but loose enough that he could move toward the warmth that was Jonathan Byers, melting some of the ever-present, cruel Harrington frost.

By the end of their Friday library session, they had completed their essays and were ready to turn them in. Both boys began to slowly pack up their things, their usual chatter replaced by a solemn silence. They didn’t say it, but this felt like an ending—like the closing line of a book. After they’d both packed up, they hesitated—hands on their respective backpacks. They knew they were losing something they both needed.

“Hey…” Steve started, trying to keep his voice casual, but his eyes remained on his backpack. “If…if it’s not too much to ask, I could really use some help in Herring’s class, too.”

He felt Jonathan shift next to him, but didn’t dare to look at him, suddenly fearing rejection.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The pause stretched into a thick, smothering silence—as if the very air around them grew denser and clung to them while Steve held his breath.

“I could help with that, if you want.” Jonathan’s voice came out small, but sincere.

Steve’s lips curled into a wide smile, finally looking at Jonathan, who was sharing the same grin.

“That would be great, man! So…same time next week?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

“Awesome—see you then!”

Both boys exited the library with matching grins, their cheeks lightly flushed at the promise of next week.

Post Notes: Seems like something may be brewing between Jonathan and Steve...but what will Tommy think? We'll find out in Chapter 4!

Chapter 3 Preview: Eddie has found his crew and is about to find his first life-long hyperfixation: Dungeons and Dragons. As his birthday approaches, he prepares for the end of the Party's longest running campaign yet--but the day of, his father, the Warden, comes home in a drunken stupor. Will Eddie lead the Party into battle with their greatest enemy only to face his own?

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

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whimsyprinx · 1 year

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desperately looking up how to be happy knowing that it will not help and that I’m stupid af for doing so

#whimsy whispers #how is everyone else’s 3am going?#I either miraculously become happy and okay and normal or I die that’s it at this point #I cannot take this anymore I can’t keep feeling this way forever but it’s been years and I’m not any better #I’m not better than I was last year or prior I honestly feel worse #I’m unlovable I’m alone I’m unhappy i can’t live like this anymore #i can hardly breathe anymore #I just want to disappear #I just want to be happy and loved and surrounded by people who want me and that’s somehow so impossible #we’re back to being sad and crying

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crackedmarrow · 9 months

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The moon tarot card// I hide a secret that can help the both of us. I already know and I see the future. Don’t think I can hold on to the illusion any longer of me pretending not to know but to accept. I am the moon tarot card sometimes. I’m always the star card though. I took my cards with me now I think I’ll use them. The tarot story. I love the chariot card also and the hermit everything connected to being happy and successful but I also love the cards of secrets that only come out when they are pulled out or just suddenly come to light. I am the star but I’m over shadowed by the strong energy of the moon. My pain deepens when you realize you are the seed of a queen of swords who should of been a woman of wands. I carry generational trauma and I’m forced to take on many battles alone. I’m troubled by overthinking and using my prior experiences to escape possible reoccurring cycles. I am a seeker of the true of cups energy but may not realize I’ve tampered with the cup on a constituent basis. I am connected to the water but I’m ruled by the moon the dark side of the moon. In love with the forbidden and the taboo. I’m love with my enemies providing them with the love I never got. I’m disconnected from the mundane at a minimal level. Nothing is real to me all of it is for opportunity. We are stuck in a cycle. The illusions we create and try and chase is what harms us. Why do we make things complicated. Never being satisfied always wishing for the best thing. Over feeding ourselves. It’s because we aren’t willing to settle but when do we know we are no longer settling? When do we know that this is enough to fill multiple cups and we can survive through the harshest of winters and hottest of summers the mildest of fall and the beauty and growth of spring. Why are we always hiding things because we are afraid. Why are we insecure within ourselves when we should know ourselves. Why do we create barriers and levels and have status? Why can’t we be happy with just simply knowing each other and helping each other grow and building with one another. Why must we we everything as a war rather than a debate of the mind. Why can’t we compromise and hear each other out. Why is pride used as a weapon? When will the world discover love is stronger than pride? When will everyone face that life changing ego death. Why do we glorify the wrong ? Why do we not want to thrive together? Why do I feel like no one is there for me knowing there is people there? Why am I not content? Why do I feel that things will get better with little or just slow moving progress? Did I create an idea of my life based off an illusion thinking I can to have something good. Why do I constantly feel alone and unloved ? Why do we not feel good enough for people? Why do it seem like all the selfish bad people win

Why does survival of the fittest even exist ? I don’t want to be the rough person all the time sometimes I want to be as soft as a baby doe fur and as kind as their eyes.

Why can’t I swim like the fish and roam freely traveling to different depths and oceans and regions?

Why do I feel like a caged zoo animal in the city? Why can’t I have what I want. Why do I feel like the people who should love me most hate me more than anything. I feel incomplete and unhappy. I don’t wish to go deeper in to detail about the internal pains I’m facing. How is it that I go through so much and never bring it up and receive the most disrespect. How could you love me and not want me or how could you not love me but still want me? Why is everything and everybody confusing lust and love? Why did I have to speak English and why can’t I sleep and write down my dream. I need answers I need them answered soon.

I understand so much and hardly get to show it because people think with knowledge especially when they don’t know they assume, yes assume that you think that you are better than them. I loved to deeply and watched things I knew were gonna happen happen. I don’t ever tell anyone what I see fully because it scares even me. I sometimes shift things to be wrong because I want some else to be right. I don’t want to let them know I seen it already. I’m sorry if I’ve not been honest about what and all I know but it’s for your own good maybe it can buy me more time to hear and maybe something will shift. We all have beliefs and those things are shit we will die for . It’s crazy how your opinion of something will have you possibly dying for it. I can’t pretend anymore but I can listen. I can write.

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emptylookingeyes · 10 months

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Reflection

7/17/2023

It’s been officially one year since I made a real post on here. I lost the energy and time to be able to do so. It was a traumatic event for myself and two of the people I love. Ever since then, I look back on it and believe it or not, I regret failing. I went through another year of pain and suffering. Sure there was some light in the dark, but there’s just too much fucking darkness. Every time I tried to do better and have good moments, it eventually just faded away because it was just covering up the truth. The truth that there is no world where I am truly happy and live a normal life. The truth that I’m alone and everyone always leaves in the end. The truth that there is no real future for me, and if there is, it’s only eternal suffering. I cannot escape that reality if I choose to live.

I continue to look back on everything and a lot of it really is the same. Mathematics and Science tend to stay constant for the most part, and the same goes for my life. No matter how hard I attempt to do better and change that, it doesn’t change. I lost the love and support of my sister since December 2021. I lost more and more people these last couple of years. I’m down to three people I love and trust so much, but am barely able to talk to. I try my best for them, but it’s never enough. I still feel empty after everything. I still look empty after everything. Emotionally and physically. I stare into the void each day and contemplate what the fuck am I still doing here. If I died, I’m sure they wouldn’t be sad or care. Even if they did, it’d only be for like a week and then they’d forget all about me. The same way that everyone else did.

I learned this some time in the last year. And my heart truly goes out to these people. Statistically and theoretically, if there are people that are loved and have a wonderful life, and there definitely is, then there also exists those that aren’t loved and never will live such a happy life. Can you believe it ? There are those that will live life all alone, unhappy, and die alone. These people are unloved and forgotten, and they go through life unnoticed, uncared for, and invisible. Nobody thinks about these people. It is truly one of the saddest thoughts I’ve ever had. You don’t know who these people are but they exist in this world and are DESTINED to live that fate. Maybe some of them do get saved, but not everyone gets saved. These are the same people that also get told “it gets better”, “you’ll find someone that loves you”, and all that other bullshit. I hate it when people tell people that, because what happens WHEN IT DOESN’T ? WHAT HAPPENS WHEN IT’S THE END OF THEIR LIFE AND IT STILL DIDN’T HAPPEN ? DO YOU JUST SAY “OOPS, I WAS WRONG” ? Fuck that. There are people in their 20′s, 30′s, 40′s, 50′s, and so forth that never got the treatment that so many others got to experience. True friendship, romance, bonds, and fun experiences with others. It’s so fucking easy for people to say these “kind” and “supportive” words to people in a position of privilege of being someone that has experienced this for so much of their lives. And I’m fucking tired of it. Then you have these fucking people tell you “oh, the most important this is you need to love yourself”. FUCK YOU. It’s like I said, it’s easy to say that when you’re in a position of someone that actually has love and bonds with others. Sure, maybe there are people out there that are content with only loving themselves and have NOBODY WHATSOEVER. But not everyone is content with that, not everyone wants that, they want what so many others have...

I’m sorry that this is such a huge shitty blog post. Honestly, it felt nice to just put some of my feelings and thoughts into something like this after one year. Maybe I’ll try to do it again every now and then if I don’t feel pressured in trying to do it at certain times. Only doing it when I feel like it, since forced writing kind of sucks. A lot of what I said is probably the most unpopular opinion, disagreed perspective, and absolute bollocks. Honestly you’re probably right. I’m just some loser, no, the biggest loser of all time. I’ve known that for the longest time and came to terms with that. You might say I’m just a self-fulfilling prophecy, and what I say is only going to happen is because I’m making it happen. Perhaps you’re right, but the thing is that I did try so many times. There are timelines where no matter how many times you go back in the past, you can’t change the outcome. There are things that will always happen. That’s my fate.

-Effy

#reflection #destruction #darkness #sad #truth

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bipolarsteaparty · 1 year

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I feel like the most upsetting thing to me is that I can’t do anything right. I’m always doing something to upset or annoy you. There’s always something that I’m doing to drive you mad or make you lose your cool. I’m aware that I’m not perfect and there are times when I’ve said or done things out of anger, but no matter how hard I really do try to be pleasant for you it just turns out in disaster. A complete disaster. It ends in yelling, shouting, doors being slammed, and occasionally crying. I’ve asked myself time and time again, is what everyone has said about me right? Were they right when they called me poison? When they said I ruin everything that I touch? The terrible fear of them being right scares and saddens me. I always hoped that one day I would be good enough for another person, that one day I would come into someone’s world and they wouldn’t leave because of how miserable I make them. But time and time again my relationships end in tears and the other person being sick of me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to know my love isn’t enough? It’s torture. It’s hell knowing that I’m problem and no matter how hard I try to fix things I always end up doing the complete opposite without even meaning to. I want so badly to just scream and cry until my throat begins to bleed. I wish I could self harm again because knowing that me loving another person isn’t enough for them to stay with me makes me hate myself with a passion, because that means there really is something wrong with me and I can’t live with that. Maybe they all were right, maybe I am broken and unloveable. Why was it so hard for me to stand up to Rafael, but it’s so easy for me to lose my cool with you? Or to make you think I am trying to be combative? It devastates me knowing that all of my partners (except one) were so miserable with me. This all makes me feel like I am impossible to love, this makes me feel like a monster. Am I unworthy of love? Am I really unloveable? How can I carry on like this? How can I go on living if you and I will end in tears? I thought we were different. I thought that I was different. But maybe I am not. Maybe I’m still the same monster that I was nine years ago… I like to think I have changed since then but from the way things have been going with you and I, I don’t think I have changed much at all. I still self harm, I still lash out at people I love, I still push people I love away from me out of fear of them actually leaving (and then they do end up leaving) and I still hate myself. Maybe more now than I ever I hate myself because I know I’ve been making you so fucking miserable and that eats me alive. You’re the one person who I thought would stay, you’re the one person I thought would stick beside me. But honestly? I can feel you already leaving me. I can feel it with every fiber of my being, it’s excruciating. “I think I was born backwards… You know, come out my mum the wrong way. The people I should love, I hate…. And the people I hate…” It describes me perfectly. Perhaps I really am a monster, a poisonous flower if you will. My looks captivated you, you wanted more of me, and then you touched me and I poisoned you. I hurt everyone I come in contact with and I don’t even mean to, but some how I always do. I wish I could be drunk right now, so at least it would numb the anxiety and the pain. The pain of, why can’t I ever be good enough? Why do I always have to ruin things and hurt my loved ones? There are times when I consider suicide. I would rather die than end up alone. I would rather slit my wrists and end it all right now then know that I am going to have to spend the rest of my life without you because I’ve made you so unhappy and I ruin everything I come into contact with. How did I become so a vile person? When exactly did that happen? When I was a child? When I turned seventeen? Or a few years ago? Have I always been a monster? And don’t you dare say that I am not a monster because that’s exactly how I feel.

#my post #actuallybipolar #personal #personal rant #bipolar thoughts #tw depressing stuff

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whenmymelancholicsoulwrites · 1 year

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The Lost Grasshopper's Journey Far From Home by Gwyneth Angel Reyes

There once was a happy, carefree, and confident grasshopper living nearby the land of bliss. She would always do what she wanted, she never cared about what other people are going to say because she's too busy running around chasing her own happiness. She would go on for days without having to talk or socialize with anyone, and she's definitely more than okay doing that. But being absolutely carefree, in total bliss, and confident, does not always stick around in the long run. As time went by, she grew accustomed to being that way. In short, her happiness led her to her own misery. She went on with that scenario of her life, just chasing happiness in other people. That was when she began to understand that in order to be happy, she need to put other people first, before her own–that's her idea of happiness and it changed her as a being in both positive and negative ways. Growing up, she would fulfill everyone's wants just to make them feel less bad about themselves, which she thinks will also make her happy, but she’s in fact, quite wrong that. There were times where she would always go on her way to help and please other animals in her neighborhood. She would, without a strain of doubt, sacrifice everything for others, especially her family. So to say, she is definitely a people pleaser. She don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable, unhappy, unwanted or even unloved even if that means sacrificing her own happiness. That's just how she is, she’s built that way. Sometimes, being accustomed with pleasing other people, she begin to question herself and her genuine worth because, and at times, people take her for granted.

She wonder if she is even enough or just barely tolerable for anyone to get along with. She's not confident enough to show her true emotions because she thought that it may affect others, which in fact, is the last thing she wanted to happen. So there she goes, hopping and running to places from time to time in order to find her true identity, but there's not a time wherein she try to question being a grasshopper who's always changing her preferences, who's always changing her environment because she doesn't want to get confronted with the fact that she is afraid of reality, and that is the reality of her true self and nature. So she would go around changing her environment to escape from herself. She would hear other animals throw mean and rude things at her maybe because she didn't live up to their expectations. She's a coward for not being able to keep a straight outlook in her future. She's a coward for choosing to not join the race with her peers. She's a coward for just being herself alone and not socializing with anyone in the grassland and not permit anyone to enter her own little world. She's just herself, in her own little chaotic world full of insecurity and anxiety. One day, her friends asked her a favor. That meant, for her, as another day of pleasing other animals and doing what they wanted in order for her to feel accepted by everyone in the group. As she is on her way to fulfill her fellow grasshopper's request to find the most healthy kind of yellowish grass to eat, which is a rare type to discover, she got lost in the midst of finding her way back, she couldn't figure out how to get herself back home. That was the time when she figured out that her friends tricked her and deceived her. It was their way of getting rid of her because in the first place, they don’t really want her around. They just want her because she’s always been there to help them up when they’re troubled.

"That's what you get for being a people pleaser, that's what you get for having that toxic positivity of yours and for trying to fit in a group wherein it’s obvious that you’re totally unwanted", the grasshopper said to herself with a glint of anger and disappointment.

What will she do now? She can't just go around hopping and jumping on top of grasses hoping to just maybe, find her way home. She can't do that, that's too impossible. She's just a little dot of a creature unable to navigate her way back home with the vastness of the world around her. She is lost. Lost in the world she can't even recognize. Of course, there are grasses and shrubs and trees all around her, but she's too preoccupied with anxiety that she can't even recognize how much of a relief it is to get lost and just forget about other people and to just appreciate herself more. As she wander around, she and her thoughts were left alone together. It's kind of an eerie feeling to be talking to oneself and fighting all the negativities that she created for herself. Lost in the thick grassland, with nothing but her echoing thoughts, she began to contemplate her existence.

"Why I am like this?", "Why am I such a coward?", "Why am I such a loser?" "Just why?...".

Those words were like echoes running around, going back and forth in the back of her mind. She is definitely lost, not just unable to go back home but also lost in her mental state, she is lost and unable to stop her thoughts from dragging her down. When she faced change, that was when she was thrown into the world she barely can't recognize herself, it is a world that is unexplainable enough that she can't even put her words to describe the feeling. Unable to find her way to the familiarity of things, she lost herself, and so, she lost her sanity. She can't quite comprehend what everything is about in that dark world she created for herself to suffer. Locked up in her darkness she begin to question everything and why things happened as they did. She is constantly pulling herself down, as if she didn't already hit rock bottom. As she is wandering around the thick grassland, lost and hopeless, she would always hold on to the feeling of home. Not the one that covers her through the sunshine and rain, but the one that she was right back when she was still a child, the feeling of being carefree, the form of being her old self and her own identity, and not caring about other people's opinions about her and being alone in her own company—that's what home is to her, just being her most genuine herself.

As she is lost in her thoughts, thinking about what would it be like to not care at all, she was entranced by the sight of a ladybug, just running, hopping, jumping in thick grasses not caring at all if she's going to get lost and starve herself from all the good things that the world has to offer. The grasshopper is curious, curious enough to follow the ladybug's leaps. She followed and followed her through the thickness of the grassland.

Then finally, she caught up with her and asks, “Hey, I saw you being too overly carefree out there, are you not afraid?”.

The ladybug looks at her in disbelief and in complete confusion. “You know, I don’t even know you. You’re watching me all along? You’re unbelievable!”. The grasshopper grasps as if she can’t believe someone just called her a stalker.

“I’m not even looking at you, I was just entranced to see someone being their true self and not caring about what other people has to say or if they put themselves to danger.” She lied, partially because the fact is, she’s lurking around her. The ladybug just looks at her and was about to get away from her.

“You know, we’re both complete strangers here and we both don’t know each other but I was just left entranced to seeing someone like you. How do you do that? How do you stay happy with just yourself and not having to please other people?” The lost grasshopper said as if she’s in a hurry.

To which the carefree ladybug replied, “You know, I just don’t care at all. This may sound weird to share this to you but I have in fact, four don’ts in life that I choose to live by everyday and in every breath that I take. One, is don’t look outside yourself for approval, second, is don’t suffer imagined troubles, third, don’t fear change and then lastly, don’t chase happiness. That’s all the rules I have to be able to live in this world full of chaos and misery.” The ladybug replied with a hint of positivity in her eyes. And then, after a few second she went away without saying goodbye. The grasshopper can’t comprehend what most of the ladybug just said, she is much more preoccupied with the ladybug suddenly disappearing in front of her. As days went by she couldn’t wrap up what the ladybug has told her and the four don’ts that she left for the grasshopper to live by. The lost grasshopper was left wondering about what the ladybug meant, she keep on thinking about the interaction she had with the mysterious ladybug.

Summer is starting to arrive and the sun is always beaming hot day by day. The Little grasshopper is still lost in the world but what’s different now is that its summer and she can feel the bliss brought upon by the sun. She is lost but at the same time, found her true happiness alone under the sun’s flare.

Even though she’s lost in the middle of nowhere, she realized that she is in the best company. She may not have realized it in her past, but she’s starting to. She embraced the idea of change that her fate has brought her to. She live alone in the fields with nothing but the wisdom that the mysterious ladybug has left for her to figure out. She has long stopped being a people pleaser and started to love herself more. She began to understand the idea of give and take with every little creature that she meet on her way.

Though she stopped pleasing other people, she didn’t stop being kind and helpful, she still do great things to other people but she also understand her own self-worth. She may be lost far away from home but she found herself in ways she could not imagine. She found herself through all the adversities she encountered along the way of finding her way back to her home. As she is building herself up and finding her way back home, rest assured that when the right time comes and fate will bring her feet back to that familiar place she called her home, she’ll be back as a new her. She will be back home ready to face the vastness of the world with her genuine self and with the wisdom given by the mysterious ladybug. Most importantly, she learned to be content with who she is and that she don’t need any external approval to see her worth–that’s what she also learned from the butterfly with whom she met after the ladybug disappeared. She learned that happiness is a butterfly, which means that if you chase after it, it will allude you. But if you sit and wait patiently, you will stumble upon it and it may come to you, unknowingly.

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