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ohjammers · 3 years

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This is my first fanfiction so I hope you enjoy. It is Steve Rogers x female Reader. Lemon if you squint. There's also Bucky X Female Reader. Please don't steal my work! I put a lot of time into this. I do not give permission for it to be distributed. Well hope you enjoy!

Thank you

You felt uneasy knowing tomorrow would be the day Steve would return the infinity stones. He didn’t seem fazed by this notion at all. Anything could happen. What if he couldn’t come back? What if he wouldn’t come back?

It was early in the evening and Steve wanted to have a date night. You haven’t had one of those since before The Snap. You didn’t blame him though, Steve had been through a lot. Most of his time was spent in group therapy where he fought to overcome depression. Most of us were struggling with the loss of those recently but for Steve, he’d lost everyone. You often wondered how alone he must have felt in a world where everyone you knew was gone. Where the only family you had the grandchildren of those you knew from another time. It was something you worked so hard to understand, to sympathize with. It seemed no matter what happened Captain America was always fighting.

Steve had dressed the room with rose petals, drawn a bubble bath, and cooked a beautiful dinner. The room smelled of sweet grass and rosemary incense. Candles were lit all around the shared apartment and soft music played from another room. You sat at the table twirling your glass of Moscato feeling nothing but happiness. Your eyes smiled as you listened to Steve tell a story about his mischievous adventures with Bucky during their childhood.

“-and right there in front of everyone Buck kissed her!” The excitement in his voice brought joy to your heart. He always lit up when it came to talking about the past. His blonde hair was swept over in a side part, it had grown longer always neat and pristine. He hadn’t shaved in a while, it looked good on him. Blonde just made blue eyes pop like that. He had been lifting weights more than normal. You assumed it was how he kept the negative thoughts at bay when you weren’t there to soothe away the pain. He’d also spent more time outside, sun spots peppered his noise like soft kisses.

You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy or relaxed in a very long time. Now that you thought about it, Steve was never this happy around you. Your face dropped for a moment and Steve must have caught the expression because he reached out for your hand. The pads of his calloused fingers brushing yours. You smiled down as your hands interlocked. “What’s wrong, sugar?” He asked, his words caressed your ears like velvet.

You smiled softly and leaned in to kiss his lips, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. Its presence nagging that something wasn’t right. That Steve wasn’t being honest. How could he not have been? He hadn’t done or said anything to even be considered dishonest. Sure this date seemed softer and more thought out than normal, but shouldn’t be alarming. It was incredibly sweet. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking so hard. Your man was here, and he was showing his love. Appreciate it, you told yourself. Realizing that Steve had been waiting for an answer you quickly let the thoughts leave you.

“All of this is just…” you wanted to say unlike him, but the words never left your lips. Everything’s fine. “...very romantic. It’s nice, baby. Thank you.” Your eyes meet his, and it’s his turn to smile softly. Steve pulls you into him, having you sit in his lap. You’re so close you can count his eyelashes. Steve’s blue eyes were blown almost completely black. His hand massaged your thighs and his lips found yours. This kiss left your mind in a swirl of sparkles and pink smoke. Your heart raced as he pulled away with a mischievous grin, knowing damn well what he was doing.

“You deserve to be loved.” He stated. The tone of his voice sweet yet somehow still distant. Honest.

“Here you are asking if I’m alright, but I’m more worried about you.” You begin to shift away, but Steve stops you, “Steve, tomorrow’s a big day for you. I’m scared.”

Steve chuckles, “Scared? Sugar, it’s not the first time I’ve gone back. Everything will be fine.” He gently pushes you away and stands up, “Now, the water should still be hot. Go on up. By the time I get done down here the water should be warm enough for me to join. I don’t want to boil alive today.” It’s your time to laugh. You’d think things like temperature wouldn’t bother a Super Soldier.

Once in the large bathtub you sigh, these thoughts were becoming intrusive. “Stop making something out of nothing. He will be-“

“Incredibly handsome?” Steve asked in a playful tone, startling you. “Baby!!” You yelped and splashed him. Steve pulled off his shirt and folded setting it on the toilet, laughing at your reaction the entire time. Soon his pants and underwear followed. You gave a whistle, and he chuckled before sinking into the warm water behind you, kissing your shoulder along the way. His arms wrapped around your body, drawing you further into his chest. He rested his face in your hair, inhaling softly before kissing it. Soft silence passed before you leaned up to add a bit more hot water into the tub. Steve’s warm hands stroked up your thighs down your shoulders, and back. It sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“I love you.” He said in a husky voice, “You know that right?” You sat up and eased back into his chest letting his chin rest in your hair.

“I know.” You smiled, “I love you too.” It came out in a whisper but he heard you. “I don’t think you realize how much I love you, Steve.” It was true. You never loved anyone this way before. There wasn’t another being on this planet that you’d want to share your time with. He was all you needed.

“I do.” He sighed, so quietly you only noticed it because of the rise of his chest. “Thank you for being here with me. For putting up with me and healing my soul. I couldn’t have survived those dark days without your love.” There was something about his tone, something sad. You turned facing him, thighs over his, breast to his chest. Eyes never leaving his. Sharing the air between you and oh so intimate.

“Without you, I would have been so lost. Shoot I was lost, sugar. Everything was so clouded. All I could think about was working. What other purpose did I have but to save others?” He wasn’t looking at you but lost somewhere within the fog of his mind. “When I found out Peg was still alive. I thought I had a chance of my old life but realizing I didn’t just…” he trailed off. I placed my hand on his stomach, he needed to say this. Both of his large hands settled on your hips, warmer than the water could have ever been. Your silence urged him to continue. “Then there you were, my light, leading me through the darkness. You’ve even saved Buck. For that, I’m eternally grateful.” He paused to look me over slowly. As if he was just realizing there was a gorgeous naked woman in his lap.

“Today, I wanted to show you how grateful I am. I’ve seen your body so many times, but I never had you. I’m ready if you are.” The shock that spread across your face was so loud. You searched his eyes to make sure he was ready. It wasn't a secret that Steve was still a virgin. Yes, it had been a four-year relationship without sex but you’d wait. The two of you were intimate in many other ways, and that was all you really needed.

“A-are you sure? Steve this is a big thing, babes.” Instead of answering with words, his large warm hands cupped your face smoothing a thumb over your lips. He leaned in and kissed you with heat and passion. Your eyes drifted closed as you allowed him to taste the wine from your lips. Butterflies danced within and sent fire straight to your core. How long had it been? The thought was gone as soon as it came. As he trailed down your neck, finding a spot that made you gasped in pleasure. That very sound had unleashed the beast that he tried to restrain for so many years. Once the chains had broken, there was no going back. Your body was his to worship and ravish.

Steve’s hot opened mouth caresses worked their way further down your body. His hands cupped your breasts pinching and tugging the soft buds. He kissed both of them, and growled at the moan that escaped your lips. His hands were active, grabbing your bottom to put you further into his lap. They squeezed your inner thighs, and he made haste to play with your clit. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you sighed and moaned in pure pleasure. Steve’s lips caress that spot on your neck pushing you further to the edge. His body is rigid and hard against you. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear as your body coiled then spasmed into release.

Before you could even finish, Steve stood up and wrapped your legs around his hips. He set you on the bed. Neither of you cared to dry off, leaving the wet covers to cling to your back. Steve kissed and nipped at you. Loving the way your skin tasted.

“Are you ready, sugar?” He breathed. You nod in agreement. Your brain is too muddled in pleasure and desire to properly answer. It had been a long time since anyone had touched you this way. Steve made love to you for the first time that night. It was soft at times, as if he were savoring the moment. His caresses seemed to memorize every curve and dip, every sigh and expression you made, held every ounce of his attention. He wanted to remember this night for the entirety of his life. Steve made love to you like a man starving for affection. His first time felt like it was also yours.

Steve held you close all night. Smelling your skin and kissing every part he could. Your bodies were intertwined between bare skin and silken sheets. Your cheek rested on his chest as you fell asleep listening to the strong steady hum of his heart.

Steve watched the soft rise and fall as you snored beneath him. You wouldn’t know yet but this would be the last time he ever held you this way. He memorized how beautifully you wore dawn on your skin. How delicate you were. How lucky he was to have had you in his life. To have had you as his first. To have loved you this way.

You’d hate him. He only hoped you could understand that he didn’t belong here. Did he love you? Yes. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he loved you but was he in love with you? Could he ever truly give you every part of him? No. His heart belonged to someone else. No matter how hard he tried to forget Peggy, to forget what was stolen from him. He couldn’t bring himself to fully love you. The way you deserved.

So last night was his goodbye. It was his way of leaving the future behind. His closure. He was going to go home, and you were going to live your life. You were going to fall in love with someone who could love you back fully. Who could take care of you? Who would not simply love you but be in love with you?

Steve gave a sad chuckle, he just knew Bucky would fit in perfectly. He’d seen the way Buck’s eyes followed you. Heard how softly he said your name. That’s how Steve knew he couldn’t stay. Steve wasn’t angry at Bucky at all.

When Bucky came back from The Snap, Steve watched how the two of you interacted. Of course, you were faithful, but he loved the way Bucky looked with you. How your voice relaxed his pal, the way no other woman’s had. The old Bucky would have found a sweetheart by now, but he hadn’t. At first Steve chalked it up to Bucky recovering over Hydra, like Steve, they’d taken everything from him too. However, Bucky bounced back, accepting everything that happened to him over the years. Taking it much better than Steve ever could and that was when he noticed the way Bucky’s eyes always found you. Whether it was while you were reading paper work in the tower, or making coffee for the team in the mornings. Bucky always watched over you. For the first time in either of their lives, Steve had a woman that Bucky didn’t take away from him.

Back in their youth, Bucky had stolen plenty of Steve’s flings. It was just friendly rivalry back then. They never thought much of it. The respect Bucky held for you was different. You weren’t just a coworker or Steve’s girl. You were Bucky’s savior. Steve could see how much Bucky respected you. How much Bucky had fallen in love with you. You wouldn’t see it for a while but one day you would. If only he would be there to watch you fall in love with Bucky. His pal deserved a good woman, and you deserved a good man. Steve wouldn’t leave you with anyone else.

You stirred in your sleep. He shushed you then slipped out of bed. Wrapping a robe around his body and couldn’t help but notice how it smelled of you. When was the last time he actually used it?

He went into his office and pulled out a crisp blue envelope. It hadn’t been sealed. He then pulled out his wallet and slipped in a picture of the two of you. He was sitting down with a sour yet genuine smile on his face. Dressed in a tuxedo he’d only worn at Stark’s Galas. There you were hanging over him with a goofy grin. Laughter on your lips and half spilled drink in your hands. You had a beautiful red gown that hugged your hips nicely. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. No one could. Steve sealed the envelope and tucked it into the pocket of the suit he’d be wearing back home.

He went back into the room and lingered in the door for just a bit. Watching you sleep for one last time. The two of you had whitewashed the black brick walls. You had decorated the room with golds, blacks, and navy blues. Your beloved pathos draped around the room. Steve eyed the pictures you’d taken of blurred carousels and rainy cityscapes. Of pictures of him, even then his smile was so empty. He cursed himself. He should have let you go years ago. When he noticed Bucky was falling for you. He had done the two most important people in his life a disservice. This room should have belonged to you and someone else. Bucky should have making love to you after his long absence. Not Steve saying goodbye.

Most people would say Captain America was the least selfish man in the world, always putting the greater good above him. Even he had tricked himself.

“Baby?” You called out in a tired voice. Steve padded over to you, kissing your lips with more emotion than he meant to give away.

“It’s time to get up, sugar. I’ve got to get the stones back.” You sighed but sat up to get ready for the day. Steve made breakfast while you showered. He set the table up and talked about trivial things. Anything to pass the time and push away the heartbreak he knew he’d cause.

That knot was in your stomach again. He lingered closer to you for much longer than normal. All of his touches were tender. Meaningful. It scared you.

Both of you walked to the time machine hand in hand. Steve held you close, but his body was mostly tense. He was nervous too. Bucky stood on the other side of you and smiled when he noticed the wary expression on your face. Steve noted the action, internally urging himself to follow through with his plans.

Bruce stood by the time machine with Falcon nearby. Only Bucky had known this was the last time he would see his friend. Steve confided in him after Stark’s funeral. At first Bucky was livid. “You can’t just leave her like that, Steve!” Bucky’s voice was acid. Steve had never heard him use that tone. Steve sat on Bucky’s couch running his hands through his hair in frustration. They just didn’t understand, this world wasn’t meant for him. He just wanted to go home, wanted to have that dance with Peggy.

“Look Bucky I-I,” He sighed heavily, “I won’t get another chance to go home.”

“Home? This is your home. S-she’s made this home. That woman loves you more than most of us get a chance to experience.” Bucky didn’t want Steve to ruin what he had going. Here in this time, Steve had found someone that not only loved him but who had a good heart. An amazing partner. Someone you marry, but Steve already had that eating for him in the past.

“I thought she was home. Over the years I realized she was as close to Peggy as I was going to get but now-now I can have her. Start my life where I left it.” Steve looked up at his friend, eyes full of sorrow. “It’s not fair for her to love someone who can never give her all of them. She’s given me so much, Buck. I can’t do this to her anymore. I can’t pretend I’m here in the present when my soul’s in the past.” Bucky sighed, hearing the pain in Steve’s voice. Staying here was killing him. Though Steve was healthy in body, his soul wept.

“Are you going to tell her?” Bucky asked after a long heavy silence.

“No. Not verbally, she’ll just change my mind with those honeyed words of hers.” Steve then chuckled to himself. “That woman could talk a shark out of its meal.”

“She could.” Bucky said more to himself with a fond half smile on his face.

“You’re in love with her.” Steve stated. Bucky jolted almost hitting his head on the shelf he was leaning against.

“I never made a move on ‘er, pal. I’ve always kept those feelings to myself.” And he was right. He had never given any conscious indication of his interest in you. Only someone that was very observant or knew the soldier could see it. Someone like Steve.

“Hey, hey. No need to defend yourself. I understand. She’s been there for you too. I’m sorry. I should have let her go when I noticed. This would’ve been easier for all of us.” Bucky bristled a little at this comment.

“She ain’t a toy, Steve. Stop talking about her like we’re passin’ her around!” The Brooklyn accent ever present. Steve gave a hardy laugh, yeah Bucky was in love.

“Calm down. I don’t mean it like that. I respect her and I know you’d kill me if I didn’t. Kind of surprised you haven’t already. You love hard.” With those words the tension once again eased in the room. “I-Take care of her, Buck. Love her, marry her, have a family. She’s got big dreams, I know only you can help her fulfill. Do that for me.” Buck nodded once in reassurance. “If she'll have me.” There was nothing else to be said. Steve was going to do this and the last thing Bucky could do for his best friend, was support him. Steve stood and shared a thoughtful hug. The last hug he’d ever give the man that had been a brother to him. A brother that had helped him grow into the man he was today. Steve was ever so grateful.

“Ready, Cap?” Bruce Banner asked with a smile on his green face. “For you, it will seem like an hour but for us it’ll only be about ten seconds. Two minutes at the most.”

“Just a minute.” Steve turned to you and kissed you. The kiss spoke octaves. He held you close, arms around your back. Stealing away your breath and pouring in sadness. Your heart raced as he pulled away. Goodbye. His eyes met yours they reassured you that everything would be fine. He would be safe. He would come home. Right? Steve briefly turned to Bucky and exchanged a nod. Before walking away and handing his shield to Falcon. He would make an amazing new Captain America. Steve wouldn’t entrust the title to anyone else.

“Hold on to this for me will ya?” He told Falcon before walking to the machine and standing in the center of its rings. Relief washed over him. You would be safe and loved. Bucky would finally get the life he deserved. The world would be safer and Steve, he was going home.

As the machine warmed up he watched, Bucky put an arm around your shoulder and pull you in. Further, reassuring Steve that he’d take care of you. Your big eyes watched Steve not missing a beat, and it broke his heart. He smiled at you, tears falling from his eyes as the familiar warmth of the machine washed over him. Just like that he was gone.

It was only supposed to take ten seconds. Ten seconds and he’d be back in your arms. Panic surged through your veins like ice-cold water. Be patient. You reminded yourself. Banner said it could take up to two minutes for him to return.

Two minutes passed. Everyone began to panic except for Bucky. He was watching you, closely but in the frenzy you hadn’t noticed. “Bruce! Bruce, you said two minutes!! Bruce!” You screamed. Your body flew into action and you lunged forward. Bucky caught you before the onslaught continued. Bruce was typing frantically at the computer trying his damnedest to bring Steve back.

“Doll, it’s going to be alight. Steve’s fine.” You finally noticed how calm Bucky was. Instantly you yanked out of his hold and whipped around. The answer was written all over his. Steve wasn’t coming back.

“Bucky w-where’s Steve!? W-why isn’t he back!?” Bucky couldn’t meet your gaze. Realization hit you, the bad feeling, the romantic evening, the thank-yous, and the love making. He was saying goodbye. Tears swell in your eyes, Steve left you. He’d left you all alone. After all of this time and you couldn’t love him hard enough to stay.

“That bastard.” You cry through clenched teeth and clutched fist. Anger, despair, sorrow, heartbreak. All of these emotions coursed through your soul. The sob that left your lips broke the hearts of everyone around you.

“I said the same thing when he told me what happened.” The frail voice of a woman called out. An elderly woman stood up from a nearby bench. She looked very familiar.

The old woman slowly made her way over to you. She held her hand out and for a shake. You took it with a confused expression but when you went to pull away she placed her other hand on top of yours. Holding you in place and never breaking eye contact. Strong grip for such an old woman.

“I’m sorry my husband couldn’t make it. He passed away last year.” She didn’t seem sorrowful, they had lived a good life. Somehow you know exactly who her husband was.

“Just know Steve wanted to be here. To explain with an older wiser mind.” You knew exactly who she was, you’d attended her funeral years ago, it was Peggy. Your body slumped. He stayed to be with her. Tears began to roll down your eyes once again at the finality Peggy brought. She soothed circles into your skin. It felt familiar.

“Steve did love you.” Your head shot up to meet her tender gaze. “Choosing to leave you was the hardest decision he ever made.” You almost scoffed. “I know. Trust me I gave him hell. Just leaving you like that without an explanation or closure. He was very sorry, dear.” The words weren’t enough to heal your pain, but it was nice to know that you had meant something to him.

“Steve took a picture of you with him. So I know his love was real. I’d catch him staring at it from time to time.” She gave a smile, “I’m pretty sure he took that photo with him everywhere he went. I had half of a mind to bury it with him, but he wanted to return it.” She let go of your hands to dig around in a little black purse. She handed you a very faded blue envelope. It looked like the ones you kept in the desk at home. Your name was written by his hand on the front. “Thank you for healing, Steve. You helped him more than you could have ever imagined. If not for you the man that would have retuned may not have been the same. Know that he was loved and happy. We are forever grateful.” Peggy turned away leaving you to stare at the envelope with trembling hands.

“You take care of her for him.” Bucky nodded and assisted Peggy back to where she came from. The two having a quiet discussion along the way.

You didn’t open the envelope for weeks. Couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge Steve’s existence. You felt used, abandoned, and very much alone. Bucky came by every day. Passing every mission the team asked him to join and dedicated all of his time to healing your heart. You were grateful.

The first thing you did was redecorate the apartment, any and everything that reminded you of Steve was put into storage. You couldn’t bring yourself to sell it or throw it away. Steve overall would always be an important figure in your life.

After the first month you noticed things about Bucky you hadn’t before. Very subtle touches, the way he said your name was different from others. How you always found his eyes on you. How protective and observant he was when it came to you. It was like he had already known all the little things, what type of tea you liked, or the flowers you adored.

Two months had passed, and you finally had the courage to open the envelope. It smelled faintly of Steve’s cologne and old musk probably due to its age. It was a little worn like it had spent some time in his pocket.

You opened the envelope and pulled out a very worn colored picture of the two of you. It was taken at Tony’s Gala, right after the two of you began seeing each other. You turned the picture in your hand and noticed faint cursive writing on the back. No matter where I went you were always with me. Thank you. You smiled at the words, understanding. You noticed a black and white photo in the envelope and picked it up. It was a picture of him. He looked so happy, you could see the wedding ring on his finger and the smile on his face brought joy to your heart. You smiled back at it. Looking further into the envelope you found a faded piece of paper. It was Steve’s will. He and Peggy were to leave everything they owned to you. The only stipulation was that you spent at least one Sunday with her every month until her passing. As one last favor, Steve was asking you to make sure Peggy did not leave this world alone. It was an honor.

And so you did. Peggy became a dear friend and her passing was very hard on you. It turned out Peggy and Steve had a beautiful life together and hearing of their adventures and sharing some of yours brought closure. You no longer saw Steve as an ex but a very dear friend.

Over time, you fell in love with Bucky. He gave you more happiness and love than any person ever had. The two of you lived the life Steve always knew you would.

#bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader

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myinnerworks · 4 years

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Inner child healing: 5 surprisingly powerful exercises The “inner child” is one of those concepts that is used regularly yet is a little confusing to think about. It’s referred to in different ways, ranging from “the child archetype”, to “the child within”, to “the wonder child” to the “wounded child.” Yet what does it mean? And how does “inner child healing” help you make positive changes in your life? A few days ago I did an incredible masterclass hypnotherapy session with Marisa Peer (it’s online and free – you can do it too by clicking here). In the session, Marisa takes us back to childhood in order to clear any traumatic experiences we had that have resulted in a fear of rejection. The hypnotherapy session was so powerful that I decided to investigate the concept of the “inner child”. In this article, I’ll break down what it means and will share 5 surprisingly powerful exercises to heal your wounded “inner child”. The term “inner child” doesn’t refer to the part of your brain that is reserved for having childish thoughts! Rather, the inner child exists as the childlike aspect within your unconscious mind. It reflects the child we once were, in both her “positive” and “negative” aspects. Our unmet needs and suppressed childhood emotions, as well as our childlike innocence, natural enthusiasm, and creativity, are all waiting within us. The repressed emotions refer to all of the things you were taught as a child not to feel if you wanted to receive love. The result: you were only offered attention when you obeyed. It’s almost inevitable that this happens when parents, education, and society impose rules and standards to help socialize us into becoming functioning human beings. In fact, it’s good that this happens. Constraints are required in order to understand boundaries and grow as human beings. However, the result is that the inner child within you still holds onto the sadness, anger, and trauma that resulted from feeling rejected. Simple examples of things we learn from our upbringing that result in feelings of rejection are as follows: “You’d better not say what you really think”, “Don’t try to get that promotion because you aren’t smart enough”, “You need to make your parents happy.” Connecting with the inner child focuses on bringing these feelings to the light of your consciousness so that you can find the root causes of the challenges you’re facing as an adult. Below we’ll share the 5 surprisingly powerful ways to heal your wounded inner child. But first, a quick note about Carl Jung, the originator of the term. Carl Jung was a renowned psychology expert who founded many theories about personality, identity, and analytical psychology. His work has been studied the world over, and today, many of his theories and suggestions for improving one’s life are still used widely. Jung is reported to have originated the term “inner child” with the “divine child archetype”. It’s used as a concept to explore our challenges growing up and developing our personalities. In this sense, the “inner child” stays within us, forming a part of our consciousness as images. This has an impact on how we interact with the outside world. Read more about Carl Jung here. The “inner child” is an autonomous and hidden form deep within. It’s transformed when given expression. How to recognize if you have a wounded inner child How do you know if your past trauma is affecting you deeply right now? Is it connected to your inner child? These are some signs that you may have a wounded inner child: You feel that there is something wrong with you, in the deepest parts of yourself. You experience anxiety when going out of your comfort zone. You don’t have a strong sense of identity. You deliberately like being in conflict with people around you. You’re a hoarder of things, emotions, people, and you have a hard time letting go. You feel inadequate as a man or a woman. You constantly criticize yourself for your supposed inadequacy. You’re unforgiving to yourself, rigid and a perfectionist. You have a hard time committing and trusting. You have deep abandonment issues and would cling to relationships, even when they are toxic. There are many more signs that your inner child may be wounded. Truthfully, all of us, no matter how small or insignificant, have traumas from our past that need addressing. What is inner child healing? Inner child healing, or inner child work, is an essential part of inner work, the psycho-therapeutic or spiritual process of changing yourself to become the person you know you can be. On its own, inner child healing reconnects us to the wounded elements of our inner child within. According to prominent psychospiritual counselor and mentor, Mateo Sol: “Inner child work is the process of contacting, understanding, embracing and healing your inner child. Your inner child represents your first original self that entered into this world; it contains your capacity to experience wonder, joy, innocence, sensitivity and playfulness.” This reconnection allows you to access the fragmented parts of yourself so that you can discover the root of your phobias, fears, insecurities, and self-sabotaging inclinations. Instead of simply finding and looking at the symptoms of your pain, inner child healing will help you go right to the core and reveal when your issues began, and deal with it effectively. How to heal your wounded inner child Deep within us resides the memories of the experiences we had as children. These memories continue to live and interact with the present. Our inner child is the source of our vitality and creativity, and developing a relationship with our inner child helps to heal emotional problems that result from not honoring this part of ourselves in our adult lives. There are many pressures in our adult lives that threaten to extinguish the flame of our inner child that lives within. You can fight back against these pressures by connecting with your childhood source. Here are 5 ways to immediately connect with your inner child. 1. Reconnect with your childhood: One way to do this is to “time travel” back to your childhood. You can do this by making a list of things that brought you joy when you were young. Spend some time daydreaming and reliving these memories as though they were happening today. 2. Identify your specific inner child: According to WikiHow, there are patterns of childhood that are common to most people. See which patterns resonate with you in order to see what is coming up in your life today. Here are the examples they cite: The abandoned child: This inner child often emerges from not getting enough attention from parents. It can be relatively innocent, such as parents being too busy, or it can be more severe, coming from abuse or neglect. The playful child: This child is healthy and often neglected in adulthood. Do you remember when you were feeling playful and spontaneous, having fun without guilt or anxiety? The fearful child: This child received a lot of criticism and regularly experiences anxiety when not getting enough affirmation. 3. Write a letter to your inner child: You can do this in the form of an apology if you feel you’re living a life that doesn’t honor your inner child. Or you could write a simple letter explaining that you wish to build a stronger relationship with your inner child in your life today. 4. Pay attention to your feelings: Your inner child is sensitive and vulnerable. It’s important to pay attention to your inner child’s fears and insecurities as well as the joys and feelings of wonder that often come up when connecting with your inner child. Throughout the day, check-in with yourself and ask, “how am I feeling right now?” 5. Be mindful of your inner critic: One of the biggest challenges I faced in spending time with my inner child was feeling like a fool for doing so. I’m an adult now and it felt silly to try and connect with the feelings I was having when I was a child. This was my inner critic speaking. It’s important to listen to this voice, at the same time as listening to the voice of your inner child. All of these voices deserve to be heard, and by listening to them you’ll give them the space to shape how you’re feeling today. What do you think of these ways to connect with your inner child? Can you think of any other methods that have been useful to you? Let us know in the comments below. Going through a guided meditation journey for inner child healing “Caring for your inner child has a powerful and surprisingly quick result: Do it and the child heals.” – Martha Beck Right now, meditation is highly researched in the fields of neuroscience and psychology. There are even studies that suggest that mindfulness meditation might be changing brain activity in areas linked with emotions. So it’s no surprise that many therapists and psychologists use meditation journey for inner child healing. If you are a beginner in meditation, it might be hard for you to sit with your thoughts or to empty your mind of distractions. I suggest you enroll in some classes or begin practicing meditation yourself before you start guided meditation child work. Meditation takes a lot of practice. It requires you to be honest yet kind to yourself, your thoughts, and your emotions. The process of “witnessing your thoughts” can be a particularly difficult technique. However, you can start by doing the easiest and most common approach to meditation – by focusing on the breath. If you’re already experienced in meditation, you can perform this meditation journey provided by Mateo Sol: Breathe deeply and relax. Allow yourself to witness your thoughts. Ask your question. Example: “Dear inner child, when was the first time I experienced trauma in my life?” Allow yourself to witness the thoughts that rise and fall within your mind. Your inner child may or may not decide to reveal the answer to you. Remember to be patient, loving and accepting. If your inner child doesn’t want to reveal the answer, embrace that. It’s important that your inner child feels safe, secure, and ready. This process may take a couple of minutes to an hour. You can also do this meditation repeatedly until your inner child starts showing you some answers. If you are a beginner at meditation and would like a simple way to get started, check out my article: Alan Watts taught me the “trick” to meditation (and how most of us get it wrong). Using hypnotherapy to build a relationship with your inner child At the beginning of this article, I mentioned a free masterclass hypnotherapy session by Marisa Peer. Taking this class inspired me to research the concept of the inner child and make this information more widely available through Ideapod. There’s a good reason to use hypnotherapy to create a deeper connection with your inner child. Here’s what Mindworks says: “Inner child hypnosis uses a variety of tools and techniques to access, communicate with, calm, and heal a client’s inner child. Hypnotherapy to heal the inner child can create positive changes in the adult who seeks greater self-worth and self-acceptance. It can help them to overcome self-sabotaging behavior that their inner child learned in order to cope with dysfunctionality. But to achieve these goals requires the full cooperation of the client who must really want to heal and make the changes, must believe that they can heal and make positive changes, and must be open to using the tools and techniques provided.”

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trainwreck-in-glitter · 4 years

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WHAT EUPHORIA GETS RIGHT ABOUT MENTAL ILLNESS:

the high fucking highs: EG (“when I feel good I think it’ll last forever, but it doesn’t” at the Halloween party when rues attempted to kiss jules who rejects her again) I can’t relate to rues manic episode, since I don’t have bipolar but her jittery display of chain-smoking, obsessive thoughts, sleep deprivation, numbing the pain with coffee and taking more steps than she needs to captured the obsessive side of OCD very well, as well as the: COUNTING. I’ve had to repeat numbers in my head over and over and watching rue just start hysterically crying as a child during trying to complete that compulsion fucken’ sent me because I’d never seen an accurate nuanced way of this shown on television. I loved that her OCD wasn’t reduced to cleaning obsessively (EX’ Emma from Glee) even though many people struggle with OCD compulsions of that kind it’s a bit of an overused trope almost like a laughing track in sitcoms, and usually doesn’t serve the characters development in any purpose having their OCD solely exist for neurotypical characters to make sarcastic jokes about.

the l-o-w fucking lows: EX’ rue being glued to her bed for two days unable to engage with anyone or even get up to fucking piss resulting in a painful difficult to watch ¿UTI¿ scene. At a time I experienced severe intrusive thoughts I neglected taking care of myself so much that my hair formed dreadlocks and took hours to brush knots all out.

pushing everyone away: EX’ (I mean just look at the first gif, as well as how rue loses it at Lexi when she tries to check in on her.) while people struggling with any kind of mental illness have a tendency to isolate (espesh in cases of severe depression/mood disorders) however it’s not always aggressive sometimes it’s quiet silence in your room for a week and a half feeling completely immobilised (like with Jules during rues own depressive, she unknowningky sinks into one herself to the extent where her dad is concerned).

feeling like a burden: whether it’s because of your mental illness, low self image or like rue your addiction issues impacting those around you, rue confesses this to Lexi who in true Howard fashion holds her and tries to affirm that she’s nothing like that. Often feeling like your own problems are too heavy for anyone to bear or understand adds to the hopelessness and potentially it could be one of the biggest roadblocks to anyone’s recovery particularly Rue’s

being heavily affected by external factors, more so than normal: like social aspects of your life EX’ (Rue’s codependency on Jules, and Jules’ search for affirmation in sexual relationships, Rue’s nerves upon returning to school particularly hit me (I had a three week hospitalisation and received treatment that kept me off school frequently, and the responses from peers was right on). when noticed again Maddy tells Rue herself she thought she was dead and another friend in her car shouts for rue to “get in Casper!”. Things like school, relationships, daily tasks and functioning can feel a million time harder when you’re battling your own head, the way Euphoria demonstrates this is so raw and realistic it really hit home for me. This becomes even more heightened when people are dealing with trauma/grief ex’ (rue still carrying the grief of her dad and wearing his hoodie frequently and maddy going on a bender taking molly at the carnival forgetting to eat for two days after nate assaults her resulting in her having to be rushed into emergency where they find the marks).

addiction and the feeling of needing to escape your own head: rue will take around about any drug just to temporarily forget her own anxieties, she’s willing to lie (in drug tests by using her sober friends pee), and fight tooth and nail even if it’s against the people she loves/cares about eg: her family, fezco, etc). her addictive personality is made apparent by her obsessive behaviours, codependency with Jules, hyperfixations (watching 22 hours of love island straight) and then again in her drug use. zendaya does an amazing job at selling this all, the way her face slowly sinks from the depths of depression into what looks like she’s gotten a relieving breath of air conveys what exactly she’s getting out of this. with any addiction whether it’s substance abuse, sex addiction, eating disorders, skin picking disorders, etc there’s a need to escape but there’s also a sense of safety/reprieve from what’s making you need that escape. for Rue who is heavily characterised by her own self-blame eg: being scared of people she loves being mad at her like in that scene with Jules, the way she cried when she saw her mother and sister sleeping beside her in hospital when she woke up from her overdose, and in one of earliest narrations where she states “if I could be a different person I would, not because I want it but because they want it” and even asks Jules after she admits to being in love with her if she wishes she was different and Jules responded in the negative. she seems to want to dissociate herself because she feels the weight of her as a whole is too much for anyone and will only be disappointing. it’s sordidly relatable for anyone with low self esteem and as a rue stan the candidness can make the scenes hard to watch.

to recover or sink: rue says herself in narration that after rehab she had no intention of staying clean and for the first few episodes or so she was using to the point where she almost had an overdose in front of very traumatised Jules who then sets an ultimatum that in order for them to maintain their “friendship” rue needs to stop using and rue agrees almost immediately. the look of guilt and shame on her face as she cuddles into Jules who is still shocked and upset saying to rue “I’ve had enough traumatic shit in my life, I’m not trying to be best friends with someone who’s trying to kill themselves”. rue remains sober but clings to Jules almost in replacement, most of rues innocent crush was well innocent and very high school realistic in the way that everything feels heightened. and for a while rue is at her happiest, her best friend since childhood even saying to Jules “it’s because of you” which fairly overwhelms her because being somebody’s sole reason for recovery isn’t long term manageable OR healthy for either party. expanding on this the blame Jules gets for Rue’s relapse is a way we’re perpetuating that their codependent dynamic wasn’t detrimental to either of them, which is wrong. Jules felt immense pressure which in turn tainted her relationship with Rue, and Rue was readily giving more to a relationship where the other person wasn’t ready to reciprocate. Jules and Rue ultimately have a beautiful dynamic together and I’d love to see more of them in season 2 but I’d like it to be in some time when they’ve both explored and identified what they’re both wanting. Because I refusE to settle for anything less than #Kethan after the finale. anywho this all meant Rues hinted relapse in the finale had an inevitable quality to it, because she wasn’t changing because she wanted it but because they did. I feel that one line perfectly captures exactly what would have led to that relapse, from personal experience I tried to actively recover from an eating disorder to please my family but quickly relapsed because ultimately challenging thoughts that have been in your head for so long JUST FOR other people stops being rewarding too quickly because as much as they may want to be an active support system they don’t have the access to rewire your brain. I challenged my meal plan but not the thoughts telling me I was disgusting. Rue still felt like a burden, she never challenged that only the drug use. it would be amazing to see Rue in therapy or even just actively attempting self care and explaining how and why that might feel so hard to someone struggling. I think Euphoria this season has set up a perfect segway for the second season, and so far they have managed to portray the complexities of being a teenager with a mental illness in glitter while keeping it relatable and not being exploitative. I think after seeing Rues chronic struggle it would be really cool to see a character representing what recovery actually looks like when it comes from the right place, having that positive representation of trying to be proactive while struggling and still having questions would be a new arc for Rue and it would really show her growth however after the city incident only time will tell 😪

#euphoria hbo #euphoria #mentally ill #ocd tw #substance use disorder #rue bennett icons #jules x rue #rue bennett #zendaya #hunter schafer #seratonin #fuckoffiknowtheresamillionspellingmistakesbutimonarant

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atsoukalidis · 4 years

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13 Life-Learnings from 13 Years of Brain Pickings

Allow yourself the uncomfortable luxury of changing your mind. Cultivate that capacity for “negative capability.” We live in a culture where one of the greatest social disgraces is not having an opinion, so we often form our “opinions” based on superficial impressions or the borrowed ideas of others, without investing the time and thought that cultivating true conviction necessitates. We then go around asserting these donned opinions and clinging to them as anchors to our own reality. It’s enormously disorienting to simply say, “I don’t know.” But it’s infinitely more rewarding to understand than to be right — even if that means changing your mind about a topic, an ideology, or, above all, yourself.

Do nothing for prestige or status or money or approval alone. As Paul Graham observed, “prestige is like a powerful magnet that warps even your beliefs about what you enjoy. It causes you to work not on what you like, but what you’d like to like.” Those extrinsic motivators are fine and can feel life-affirming in the moment, but they ultimately don’t make it thrilling to get up in the morning and gratifying to go to sleep at night — and, in fact, they can often distract and detract from the things that do offer those deeper rewards.

Be generous. Be generous with your time and your resources and with giving credit and, especially, with your words. It’s so much easier to be a critic than a celebrator. Always remember there is a human being on the other end of every exchange and behind every cultural artifact being critiqued. To understand and be understood, those are among life’s greatest gifts, and every interaction is an opportunity to exchange them.

Build pockets of stillness into your life. Meditate. Go for walks. Ride your bike going nowhere in particular. There is a creative purpose to daydreaming, even to boredom. The best ideas come to us when we stop actively trying to coax the muse into manifesting and let the fragments of experience float around our unconscious mind in order to click into new combinations. Without this essential stage of unconscious processing, the entire flow of the creative process is broken. Most important, sleep. Besides being the greatest creative aphrodisiac, sleep also affects our every waking moment, dictates our social rhythm, and even mediates our negative moods. Be as religious and disciplined about your sleep as you are about your work. We tend to wear our ability to get by on little sleep as some sort of badge of honor that validates our work ethic. But what it really is is a profound failure of self-respect and of priorities. What could possibly be more important than your health and your sanity, from which all else springs?

When people tell you who they are, Maya Angelou famously advised, believe them. Just as important, however, when people try to tell you who you are, don’t believe them. You are the only custodian of your own integrity, and the assumptions made by those that misunderstand who you are and what you stand for reveal a great deal about them and absolutely nothing about you.

Presence is far more intricate and rewarding an art than productivity. Ours is a culture that measures our worth as human beings by our efficiency, our earnings, our ability to perform this or that. The cult of productivity has its place, but worshipping at its altar daily robs us of the very capacity for joy and wonder that makes life worth living — for, as Annie Dillard memorably put it, “how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”

“Expect anything worthwhile to take a long time.” This is borrowed from the wise and wonderful Debbie Millman, for it’s hard to better capture something so fundamental yet so impatiently overlooked in our culture of immediacy. The myth of the overnight success is just that — a myth — as well as a reminder that our present definition of success needs serious retuning. As I’ve reflected elsewhere, the flower doesn’t go from bud to blossom in one spritely burst and yet, as a culture, we’re disinterested in the tedium of the blossoming. But that’s where all the real magic unfolds in the making of one’s character and destiny.

Seek out what magnifies your spirit. Patti Smith, in discussing William Blake and her creative influences, talks about writers and artists who magnified her spirit — it’s a beautiful phrase and a beautiful notion. Who are the people, ideas, and books that magnify your spirit? Find them, hold on to them, and visit them often. Use them not only as a remedy once spiritual malaise has already infected your vitality but as a vaccine administered while you are healthy to protect your radiance.

Don’t be afraid to be an idealist. There is much to be said for our responsibility as creators and consumers of that constant dynamic interaction we call culture — which side of the fault line between catering and creating are we to stand on? The commercial enterprise is conditioning us to believe that the road to success is paved with catering to existing demands — give the people cat GIFs, the narrative goes, because cat GIFs are what the people want. But E.B. White, one of our last great idealists, was eternally right when he asserted half a century ago that the role of the writer is “to lift people up, not lower them down” — a role each of us is called to with increasing urgency, whatever cog we may be in the machinery of society. Supply creates its own demand. Only by consistently supplying it can we hope to increase the demand for the substantive over the superficial — in our individual lives and in the collective dream called culture.

Don’t just resist cynicism — fight it actively. Fight it in yourself, for this ungainly beast lays dormant in each of us, and counter it in those you love and engage with, by modeling its opposite. Cynicism often masquerades as nobler faculties and dispositions, but is categorically inferior. Unlike that great Rilkean life-expanding doubt, it is a contracting force. Unlike critical thinking, that pillar of reason and necessary counterpart to hope, it is inherently uncreative, unconstructive, and spiritually corrosive. Life, like the universe itself, tolerates no stasis — in the absence of growth, decay usurps the order. Like all forms of destruction, cynicism is infinitely easier and lazier than construction. There is nothing more difficult yet more gratifying in our society than living with sincerity and acting from a place of largehearted, constructive, rational faith in the human spirit, continually bending toward growth and betterment. This remains the most potent antidote to cynicism. Today, especially, it is an act of courage and resistance.

A reflection originally offered on the cusp of Year 11, by way of a wonderful poem about pi: Question your maps and models of the universe, both inner and outer, and continually test them against the raw input of reality. Our maps are still maps, approximating the landscape of truth from the territories of the knowable — incomplete representational models that always leave more to map, more to fathom, because the selfsame forces that made the universe also made the figuring instrument with which we try to comprehend it.

There are infinitely many kinds of beautiful lives.

In any bond of depth and significance, forgive, forgive, forgive. And then forgive again. The richest relationships are lifeboats, but they are also submarines that descend to the darkest and most disquieting places, to the unfathomed trenches of the soul where our deepest shames and foibles and vulnerabilities live, where we are less than we would like to be. Forgiveness is the alchemy by which the shame transforms into the honor and privilege of being invited into another’s darkness and having them witness your own with the undimmed light of love, of sympathy, of nonjudgmental understanding. Forgiveness is the engine of buoyancy that keeps the submarine rising again and again toward the light, so that it may become a lifeboat once more.

Maria Popova

#philosophy #life #brainpickings #maria popova

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scripttorture · 5 years

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Hi, I see that you're the script blog to go to about child soldiers? I have a question! What do you think it would take to get an older child soldier to leave their group? My mc was taken at 10 and as a teenager progressed from the basic cleaning and errands to scouting and then more actively fighting. Their best friend of the group whom they love and whom protected them defects and later tries to get him to leave the group with them. My mc is heavily indoctrinated into this 1/

group with all the “brain washing” present but this is the person who means the most of everything to him (and also the one who betrayed him by leaving).. what would they use to convince him to leave the group? Could they even get him leave? I havent finished researching or building my plot but I hit this snag and I want to do these characters justice and I wanted your opinion 2/2

So let me start by saying that even if they’re ‘only’ scouting and cleaning the character still very much counts as a child soldier. The technical definition doesn’t mean the victim is actively fighting, but that they’re recruited into an armed group and doing work for them.

I’m mentioning that because if you’ve been assuming accounts of child soldiers at younger ages (10) aren’t applicable, if you’ve been assuming those children were all actively fighting- That’s probably not the case and those sources probably will be useful to you.

I’m basing this response primarily on the LRA (Lord’s Resistance Army, don’t google it if you’re triggered by child abuse of any kind). That’s the modern group I know the most about. While I know a bit more about historical uses of child soldiers my overall impression is that historical accounts have less of the kind of information you’re after.

I��ll start with the reasons people, and especially children, stay in these groups. After that we can move on to ways you can move your character out of them.

The most helpful place to start is with ‘ICURE’, these are a set of techniques which are used to manipulate people. As with anything they are not 100% effective, but over long periods of time this set of behaviours (and environmental factors) can change a person’s beliefs and behaviour.

It stands for Isolate, Control information, create Uncertainty, use Repetition and Emotive arguments.

The first point should be pretty obvious. The character needs to be isolated from their previous social circle and support network. When people don’t receive any information from outside of the group the group eventually becomes their most trustworthy source. When they don’t have social contact outside the group they become reliant on the group for support.

Controlling information means that anything the character learns is first filtered through the larger group. It’s a form of censorship which means the character is only exposed to information that supports the group/ideas the group wants the character to have.

This is combined with creating uncertainty about beliefs the group wants the character to reject. Often this means only providing information that discredits their previous belief system. It can also mean extended discussions about ‘why x is wrong’.

Repetition is, what it says on the tin. It’s repeating this pattern of only giving the character information the group wants them to have, positive messages about the ideals the group wants to instil and negative messages about previous belief systems. Consistent repetition over a long period of time has an effect on our beliefs. Sometimes it even effects them when we know the information is wrong.

Emotive arguments means- well keeping any discussion away from logic. Something like- going from ‘well I’m not sure this idea about our belief system lines up with our holy text’ to the manipulative character asking why the target hates them/God/the entire church.

My impression is that while armed group like the one you’re writing all use some ICURE techniques they do not always use all of the techniques consistently.

The other main thing these groups rely on for keeping members is- the way mainstream society responds to former child soldiers.

Children who have been kidnapped are sometimes coerced into taking part in the torture and murder of adult prisoners from their home town. Those that refuse are killed.

The reason groups do this is to ‘make sure’ these kidnapped children ‘can’t’ go home.

They’re told that they’re tainted. That their family will never take them back. That their village will drive them away, reject them, kill them.

They’re told that their only hope of a good life from now on is to stick with the armed group.

And the horrible thing is- they’re half right.

Child soldiers often are rejected by mainstream society.

Some of that rejection is overt. Villagers don’t want that kid living here. Their family doesn’t recognise them and doesn’t want them back. No one wants to marry the teenage mother who escaped from the soldiers and a few people suggest killing her baby. Villagers isolate and shun returnees.

Some of it is a little more subtle. Because these children have missed out on both schooling and apprenticeship schemes they don’t really have any skills. They often struggle to find work. Most of the jobs they can get in mainstream society are incredibly low paying and can trap them in poverty and debt.

Ex-child soldiers are sometimes targetted by criminal gangs for recruitment. Many of them think that this is their best/only chance to escape poverty and to have some sort of supportive social circle outside the armed groups. Unfortunately that’s pretty close to the truth in a lot of cases.

This is why a lot of countries have programs dedicated to teaching former child soldiers new skills. It’s also why a lot of places focus so much on re-integrating former child soldiers into the community.

Rejection by the community and the prospect of lifelong poverty ‘proves’ the point the armed group tried to teach them: that they’re tainted and the only chance they have of a ‘good’ life is as a fighter for the armed group.

So- where does that leave your character?

The good news is people do leave. Even older children who’ve been with the group for a long time.

You can realistically have the fictional armed group only using some of the ICURE techniques and applying them inconsistently. All of these groups isolate their victims and all of them repeat the message that victims will be rejected by mainstream society is they return.

But not all of them have good/consistent control over the information victims can access. Many of them don’t seem to bother trying to create uncertainty and many of them seem to skip emotive arguments in favour of violence and torture. Which often increases opposition in victims.

My instinct is that the main hurdle to get over is the idea of rejection by society coupled with the fact that most of the character’s social circle/contact is in the armed group.

Humans are social animals. We need support, contact and positive reinforcement to thrive. No matter how toxic a group is people will tend to cling to it if they think their only other option is being alone for the rest of their lives.

Because this character has a good friend outside the armed group he already has a start on that.

Seeing someone else thrive outside the group will go a long way to countering the idea leaving means loneliness. Having a point of contact outside saying ‘no it’s OK. I’ve made friends. I’ve got a job. I’m safe and I’m doing well.’ that undermines a lot of the messages that keep child soldiers in armed groups.

Regular communication in which those points are repeated would help encourage the child soldier to leave.

I think you could also use the violence of the armed group to help drive this character back into society.

I talk quite a bit about the way torture tends to produce entrenched resistance. These kinds of armed groups often use corporal punishment against their members. If this character is beaten or if he sees someone close to him beaten, while he’s in the process of questioning whether he can leave; that could be a deciding factor. It could be used to drive him to act.

Much of this essentially comes down to a combination of undermining ICURE and showing the character life outside the armed group is better.

Consistent communication with someone outside the group undermines the character’s isolation, gives him another source of information and- creates it’s own uncertainties about the messages the group tries to teach.

Remember that nothing is 100% effective in these scenarios and that goes both ways.

There isn’t a sure fire way to get people out of these groups. But there isn’t a sure fire way to keep them there either.

‘Brainwashing’ in the sense of coercing/torturing someone into changing their strongly held beliefs, with the ‘new’ belief set being completely unshakable, does not exist.

It is realistic to have a child soldier not wanting to leave the armed group that kidnapped them. But this isn’t an unreasoned position. These children know that their chances of a decent life (not wealthy, or extravagant, just the ability to get by in an ordinary way) are limited in mainstream society. They know that the armed group can provide a certain amount of security (food and shelter) and occasionally rewards.

My impression of reintegration efforts is that often focus on giving children a better offer.

You’ve built up a your characters in a way that means you can do that.

Realistically it would take quite a bit of time and planning to get this character to leave. If he wanted to.

Building their relationship so that the decision to leave feels authentic is going to be hard work. Especially if the child soldier character still sees this as a betrayal. Showing that they still have points in common is a good way to start doing that.

Consider whether there’s any form of support the child soldier could only get from this friend outside the group. Support for mental health problems for instance.

That’s as much as I can really tell you about how this process works. There’s a guide here that talks about reintegrating girls into the community. You might find it helpful.

I get the impression part of this is about working out how you in particular should handle this though. There isn’t one right answer to that. Much of it will depend on how you write, what these characters are like and how the overall plot pans out.

I tend to write in a very character-driven way and I tend to write pretty instinctually. Which means the way I’d approach this sort of scenario would be by creating multiple opportunities for the characters to interact and then sitting back to see what they do.

If the results don’t come out the way I’d like them to then I think about how I can change the environment around the characters to encourage the effect I want. Most of the time- it feels like I’m following the characters rather then directing them.

But that’s not how everyone writes and there’s nothing wrong with taking another approach if it works better for you.

Think about the child soldier, what his personality is like and what he values.

If he values loyalty very strongly then it’s probably going to take him a long time to get over his friend’s ‘betrayal’. If he strongly values security (for himself and the people he cares about) then hearing his friend tell him that life is good outside the group would have a bigger effect sooner.

Is he the kind of person who stubbornly sticks to his point even when it’s demonstrably wrong or causing him pain?

Ryuji Sakamoto (a character from Persona 5) has a lot of flaws, but I feel like one of his underrated virtues is his ability to easily change his mind when presented with more evidence. There are several points in the story where he goes from being actively against other characters to extremely sympathetic when he learns more about their situation.

A character with that kind of internal flexibility would probably find it easier to leave an armed group. Whereas a character who feels as though they’re invested and struggles to accept anything that contradicts that view would struggle more.

I sometimes feel as though the prompt sheets designed to help us flesh out characters can hinder this kind of planning and decision making. They ask us to list defining traits and ideals without stress testing them.

If I take one of my own characters as an example- It would be perfectly accurate to describe her as a patriot and loyal to her country. That’s how she thinks of herself. But her ideas about what the country should be and what the essential, positive qualities of the country are do not line up with the mainstream. Neither does her idea of who is part of the country.

And these values rank lower for her then the value she places on her family and close friends.

She is both loyal and treacherous depending on who you ask. And these things are not contradictory.

So consider what really defines this character’s internal landscape. Think about how he ranks those values and whether those ranks change as conditions change.

If you build his escape from the traits you’ve already used to define him it will feel much more authentic to readers. Build it up so that, rather then contradicting his values, you’re putting different values in conflict and making the character choose between them.

Don’t be afraid to have him stumble and doubt himself. Leaving these kinds of groups is difficult and dangerous. Don’t shy away from that.

Be prepared to give this a lot of narrative space and to have to edit it several times.

Seek out writing groups and beta readers. I usually advise that for difficult scenes but here I think it would help to make sure that you’re building this up consistently in a way readers find easy to follow.

I hope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

Disclaimer

#Anonymous #tw child soldiers #tw child abuse #tw child abduction #tw torture #ICURE #child soldiers #cults #much of this is relevant to cults as well #writing victims #rehabilitating child soldiers

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monicadeola · 5 years

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Because Year 12 is the year in which I finished writing Figuring (though it emanates from my entire life), and because the sentiment, which appears in the prelude, is the guiding credo to which the rest of the book is a 576-page footnote, I will leave it as it stands: There are infinitely many kinds of beautiful lives.

#Brain Pickings #Life-Learnings #Maria Popova

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Isn’t it Obvious? (The CS Mixtape) Part 138/?

Series of CS oneshots inspired by music. Collection on FF Here.

A/N: A while back a reader requested some Neverland smut. I’ve thought long and hard about how to write this chapter and I decided to just write a whole extra scene that would take place between their finding Neal again and rescuing Henry if they had a few more days. They never would have included this in the show (and I’m not letting them go all the way), but you know what, sometimes you just need some gratuitous cannon-divergent smuff. Set to the song ‘Obvious’ by Hollyn.

Just a few more minutes. Hold it together just a little bit longer.

Emma kept the silent chant in the forefront of her brain, clinging it to like a life raft in the midst of this sea of despair. On the outside she was completely controlled, stony, competent, and sure of herself. But internally Emma had been sinking for a while now. There was only so much strength she could conjure, and only so much time she could withstand at this crazed pace before caving to the negativity all around her.

Oh she had hope that she would find Henry. There was nothing in the world that was going to keep Emma from her son, and she would give everything she had to rescue him from Pan, but it was the waiting and the continued ‘so close’ moments that made her feel frayed and exposed. Her whole life had been a lesson in never dreaming too big or expecting happy resolutions, but for Henry’s sake she was trying. God was she trying.

“You took first watch last time, Emma. You should sleep now,” her mother said and Emma wiped her hands against her pants as she stood up.

“I will. I just have to check something. I’ll be back.”

Pulling away from the camp they’d set up for the night, Emma heard the low murmurings of everyone getting ready for the evening. They all knew that to be in top shape for saving Henry they did need to rest, but sleep would never come easy here, just like it never came easy in all the other horrible places Emma had suffered through in her life.

When she was far enough away and out of sight from the others, Emma finally allowed herself to give into the bevy of emotions that were plaguing her. She wouldn’t truly let go, otherwise Emma was afraid of what might happen, but her hands shook and her breathing grew a bit more rapid. She reached out for a branch beside her and came down on a rock to sit, letting the emotions wash over her. It was a panic attack, plain and simple, and it had been fighting for release since the moment she found out her son had been taken to this terrible island.

As if that weren’t bad enough, Emma could feel just beneath the fear this surging rage. She was so angry, so incredibly pissed off that Pan thought he could fuck with her and her family. He wanted Henry for some obviously nefarious plan, and not only was he stringing them all along, he was throwing old ghosts and demons from her past back to the forefront. She had to admit she was an orphan and that sucked, then she had to face Neal and tell him that she wished he was dead, which wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Now she was recreating those moments she’d had as a teen when the reality of just how alone and unwanted she was bore down on her. She might not be alone anymore physically, but it felt like that. No one understood her even if they respected her plans. No one except for…

“Are you alright, Swan?” Hook asked, causing Emma to jump off the boulder and her hand to fly to her chest. Her heart was beating rapidly and she couldn’t remember the last time someone had successfully snuck up her like that.

“Hook! Are you crazy? You almost gave me a heart attack,” Emma barely kept her voice quiet enough not to alert the others.

“Apologies, love. You just seem… understandably plighted tonight.”

His words were at once a comfort and still so strange. He was always walking around with the accent and the flirting and the elevated language, but now he was serious, and as much as it pained Emma to admit it, she was soothed by not only his phrasing, but by his instinct to ask. What was it about this guy that gave him this sort of insight into her personally? And what did it say about Emma that she didn’t actively hate it?

“I’m fine,” Emma responded, clamming up and letting her walls rise back into place.

“You’re not fine, Emma, and there’s no reason to pretend otherwise. I know what you’re trying to do,” he claimed, stepping towards her and filling her with another hum of energy that came every time he got this close.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emma countered, willing herself not to look away even though his eyes held this power over her that made her say things she’d meant to keep close to the vest.

“You think that if you let yourself feel anything - that if you let yourself be human in this moment - you’re somehow letting everyone down. But damn everyone else: what do you need?”

“I need to get Henry back,” Emma whispered and Hook nodded sympathetically.

“And you will. But to get to your boy, you have to be at your best. You have to give yourself a chance, Emma. You aren’t sleeping, you aren’t eating, you’re second guessing yourself, so say what you need to say and then move on,” Hook implored, his hand looking for a moment like it was going to reach for hers before he held himself back.

“What makes you think I’d want to say whatever it is you think I need to say to you?” Emma almost winced when those words came bumbling out. She sounded ridiculous and overly defensive, but Hook weathered her terse words.

“I don’t believe that you do, but I have a hunch I might be the best of some bad options in your view.” Hook’s self-deprecation shouldn’t have affected Emma so much but it did. She felt bad for making him think she didn’t appreciate the effort. It wasn’t his fault she was too messed up to talk about her feelings.

“Moments like this are usually easier with alcohol,” Emma joked, not expecting him to reach for his flask so willingly though she probably should have.

“Indeed they are,” he said, offering her the metal container of rum. She took a swig, and felt the burn on her tongue, but when it began to fade, and her eyes connected with Hook’s again, she remembered the last time she’d shared a drink with him and that kiss that followed.

God that freaking kiss! As if things weren’t already messy enough, she’d had a moment where she allowed herself to give into the intrigue that she’d been feeling with this infuriating man far too long. She told Mary Margaret that she’d done it because she was ‘feeling good’ but honestly, that kiss was the reviving element in her day. Getting a message to Henry was amazing, and it filled her with hope, but the taste of Hook’s lips on hers… well that had given her the one fleeting moment she had to this point where she couldn’t conjure a single worry to spare.

“So… what’s plaguing your thoughts at the moment, love?” Hook asked when he’d taken a drink himself and put the flask away.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re on this stupid island running in circles, chasing after a demonic teenager. My son is missing, and every extra day it takes to get to him he’s more at risk for something terrible happening. This place is booby trapped like it’s nobody’s business, and to top it off, I just rescued a man who I thought was finally in my past where he belongs with the help of…”

Emma’s voice trailed off at that, holding back the words that her instincts had guided her towards. She was going to say ‘with the help of a guy I can’t get out of my freaking head even though he’s a fictional character and he’s infuriatingly cocky and the last thing I need in my life is to be interested in any man’ but that that didn’t seem appropriate. But before she could fill in the blanks, Hook did some of that himself.

“A pirate,” Hook finished, and the sound of defeat in his voice actually inflicted pain in Emma’s chest. She hadn’t even realized that was possible. She was too amped to feel anything right now, but seeing Hook mistake her meaning managed to cut through the fog of fear and worry that had been clinging to her.

“I was going to say another guy who makes my already messed up world more complicated,” Emma finally said, giving herself away in the process. Meanwhile Hook was too obtuse to take her meaning yet again.

“All I’m trying to do is help, Emma.”

“I know and that’s the problem! You’re here helping me and understanding me when everyone else doesn’t get it. But I shouldn’t be thinking about hooking up with Captain Hook. I have way too much on my plate right now.”

The silence that settled between them was heavy and Emma closed her eyes, wondering why the hell she’d just prattled on like that. Clearly she was into self-sabotage because she’d just made an already tricky situation into something even more bungled and ridiculous. What was it about this guy that had her giving more of herself away? She’d worked hard to make herself unreadable to everyone, but with Hook that skill never seemed to hold. He had this crazy way of sneaking past her defenses.

“I don’t know that term explicitly, Swan, but I take it from your frustration that you’re hinting at that kiss we shared not being a one time thing like you said.” Emma wanted to rebuff the sentiment and say he was wrong (even if that was a lie), but he continued on without letting her speak. “But therein might be the answer. You need a distraction, Emma, even if it’s just for a moment, and while I won’t take advantage of you when you’re clearly in distress, I will do my best to give you what you want, whatever that may be.”

“And if I told you to leave?” Emma asked, knowing that wasn’t what she wanted even if her head told her she should. It wasn’t smart to get tangled up in any man, never mind a centuries old pirate with a rum fixation and an accent that made her a little weak in the knees.

“Then I would go as bidden, love. Yet something tells me that isn’t what your heart desires…” Hook’s words hung in the air between them as he stepped closer and Emma instinctively closed the distance, pulling him down with the same fierceness that she had a few days back.

His kiss was just as intoxicating as she remembered, only this time it wasn’t some kind of challenge, it was an attempt to feel something other than the numbing sense of defeat and helplessness this island kept bestowing on her. As soon as their lips met, Emma found what she’d been looking for, a reprieve from that darkness and a resurgence of the hope and good feelings the other kiss had brought. When they deepened the kiss and Emma got a better taste of him, Emma groaned against him. How could something this reckless feel so good? And how could she be seeking this out when the world was in chaos around her?

But Hook didn’t let Emma linger in those worries, because his sense of demand and control was on display with so much more prominence than it had been their last time doing this. Where she’d been trying to dazzle him before, he was the one holding the reins now, playing her every desire with a finesse that left her breathless. The feeling of his hand and hook roaming and pulling her against him set the fire in her burning hotter, and when he pushed her up against one of the huge trees out here in the forest shielding them further from the direction of camp, Emma gasped but held tighter to him.

“I need-,” Emma’s voice broke, her mind a frazzled mess of sensations she couldn’t verbalize. There was just too much going on, the world was too noisy, and she needed any kind of release from it. Hook understood though, and instead of making her vocalize that she needed him, he had mercy on her.

“I know what you need, love, and I intend to give it to you, but only if you understand one thing.”

Emma blinked through the cloud of lust that had settled over her and saw that the sincerity in Hook’s blue eyes had returned. Sometimes he’d looked at her this way before, like she was something special when she felt like anything but. The unspoken faith in her that he seemed to always carry was so prominent, as was something Emma valued more than almost anything – truth.

“Needing this doesn’t make you guilty of anything. You’ve the weight of the world on your shoulders right now and taking the edge off when faced with a burden like that is natural, no matter what that brilliant mind of yours might think.”

Emma didn’t know what to say to that. It was like he’d read her worries word for word, and in his saying this, in his assuring her that it was okay for her not to be the fearless leader and the independent, competent savior for a moment, Emma felt the last bit of unease she carried slip away. The only problem she had with his words was that he cut himself short in his assessment. After all, it wasn’t just anything or anyone that could take all this pain away – it was him.

When she gave a slight nod, Hook closed the space between them again, grounding his hard body against hers and making Emma’s desire rise. Even with all these layers between them the movement felt illicit and forbidden and ridiculously hot and she felt his warm breath move to the hollow of her throat as his kisses trailed there, rough and yet sweet enough not to leave a mark come morning.

Closing her eyes and giving way to these sensations was dangerous. They were still close to camp, still on an island run by a never-aging tyrant, but there wasn’t space for that here. All Emma could soak in was the scent of leather and rum, and the rough scratch of Killian’s beard against her skin. Damn he was good at this – so breathtakingly good and she was too far gone to do anything but pull him closer and pray for more.

Emma wanted a different situation for both of them. She wanted less open space and less terrible circumstances. Honestly she couldn’t recall ever wanting the chance to explore something with someone so damn much, but those thoughts evaporated when with his one hand, Killian unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them lower down her hips. His hand slipped inside and past the fabric underneath to find her waiting sex and the only hope she had of keeping quiet enough for them not to be found was to bring him back to kiss him like her life depended on it.

This is so wrong! This is so totally… right, God yes, right there.

It should never have been so easy for anyone to get her this hot and bothered, and after years of having to work so hard for even a taste of satisfaction with others, Emma was floored by how quickly she was teetering at the edge. The mastery Killian displayed was unfair, and it felt like she didn’t even have time to think about evening the playing field. His calloused fingers slipping inside of her as his thumb brushed her clit was set to the perfect rhythm to have her falling off the edge and to send all those dark thoughts and feelings of despair into the void.

Despite the kiss, Emma still managed to curse aloud in a sound that was slightly more than a whisper, and though her eyes were closed from that fantastic (and much needed) release, she could feel Hook watching her. When her eyes lazily opened she was proved right, and the look in his fiery gaze was even more than all the others he had sent his way. For the first time she felt like she could see him just as vividly as he saw her and it was simultaneously frightening and freeing. There was no denying that he felt more than a passing fancy for her. These feelings he was grappling with were big, and they spoke to the ones she’d been trying to shove to the side for a while now too.

In the face of this release and the silent promises in Hook’s gaze, Emma was breathless, but she did feel that tightness that had clung to her for days ebbing away. Her body had succumbed to something she’d denied wanting vehemently for weeks now, and now she finally had a semblance of peace. It wasn’t permanent by any means, and even now Emma knew there was so much yet to do, but that crackle of anxiety that had been plaguing her was quiet for the first time in so long.

“Bloody hell,” Hook said and Emma couldn’t help but smile widely at that even as she felt a blush creeping across her cheeks. Oh god she was in so much trouble. She did not blush and she definitely didn’t care this much about anyone she let get close to her this way, but her usual walls weren’t locking into place, not when he looked just as bewildered as she felt.

Wordlessly she kissed him again, this time with less of that unrestrained passion and more with the intent of thanking him and showing him how much she appreciated him. It was soft and patient, but even though she’d just found release, the press of his lips on hers again was enough to spark something more in Emma. She knew this wasn’t over between them, yet Killian pulled back from the kiss, having buttoned her jeans up again without her even realizing. Then he stepped back and moved to rejoin the camp.

“Wait, that’s it?” Emma asked after him, not believing he could walk away after that little taste, and Hook turned around with a smile on his face. It had that cockiness she’d grown to actually like despite everything, but underneath it there was more than mere victory. He looked… happy actually and Emma knew she was the one who’d given him that, causing her still racing heart to skip a beat.

“Not by a long shot, love. But rest assured that when I have you it won’t be in this hellish place. When I have you it will mean something.”

Emma was tempted to admit that it had meant something. Sure there was the clear sexual chemistry element between them, but it was more than that. She’d been fending it off for a long time now, but with every passing day Hook was showing her more of himself and the man beneath the leather and swagger, while dangerous to her vows to keep people at arms length, was important to her. Somehow he’d managed to make himself matter, and though Emma wasn’t ready to say that, she knew someday she would. Her gut was loud and clear on this – Killian Jones might not have been expected, but he was a part of her life now and from the look in his eyes and the promises he’d made about winning her heart, he had no intentions of leaving her like everyone else always had.

“Killian?” Emma said as he’d turned again and the light in his eyes when she used his first name proved her instinct to move away from his more colorful moniker right.

“Aye love?” he asked, his voice a little more horse than it had just been and sounding out in the space between them with a reverberating hope.

“Thank you. For everything.”

Hard as Emma thought it would be to say, those words of gratitude were actually easy to form, and though Killian smirked at the thought of her thanking him for an orgasm, he clearly understood her. Emma was more so thanking him for being there and being on her side, and for helping her believe that he’d continue to be there whenever she needed him. He might not know her whole story, and Emma might not be even close to sharing it with him, but he’d managed to do something no other guy had done before him – he managed to prove to her that he was putting her first ahead of his own self-interests.

“I’ll take the first watch Swan, and see to it that the others cover after me. You should try and get some rest.”

Emma nodded, and heeded his advice, finding that it was so much easier to give way to her fatigue tonight than it had been in day’s past. And in the end Killian was right – in the light of the next morning, the path before them to getting Henry and escaping Pan’s kingdom was far clearer, and luckily they managed to do just that and get back to Storybrooke all together and in one piece.

………….

I just want to talk to ya But I know you're in a, in a pretty rough place And I just wanna walk with ya But I always wanna, wanna give you your space

I know where you're standin' I can't help you, if you don't let your walls fall down Let your walls fall down

Isn't it obvious? Take off your shades, look me in the face Isn't it obvious? Don't you know what you're missin? Isn't it obvious? Ob-obvious

I can feel it, when you talk to me Behind the walls you built I feel your pain, this ain't a game But this ain't the end of the world

I can't help you, if you don't let your walls fall down Just let those walls fall down

You're running around in circles Yeah you're running around in circles I don't think this is working

Isn't it obvious? Take off your shades, look me in the face Isn't it obvious? Let's make it plain, there ain't no shame here Isn't it obvious? Just give me a minute, I wanna listen Isn't it obvious? Don't you know what you're missin? Isn't it obvious?

Ob-obvious Isn't it obvious? Ob-obvious

I know that it's hard What you're doing to yourself You're locked in these bars But these prison walls are fallin' I'm standing arms wide open I'm standing waiting for ya Come runnin' You can be free if you want to

But you keep running around in circles Yeah, you're running around in circles I don't think this is working

Isn't it obvious? (ob-obvious) Isn't it obvious? Lose the disguise, look me in the eyes Ob-obvious Let's make it plain, there ain't no shame Isn't it obvious? Just give me a minute, I want to listen (ob-obvious) Don't you know what you're missin'? Can you see it in the distance? If you'd turn around you would see Don't you know what you're missin'? Can you see it in the distance?

Don't you know what you're missin'? If you'd turn around you would see Don't you know what you're missin'? Can you see it in the distance?

Post-Note: It always feels good to get one of my prompted songs out there and completed not just because my readers have given me the chance to explore more CS fluff in varying ways, but because your ideas then help inspire other fic ideas for me too. So I have to say thank you so my lovely reader who asked for this, because even if it was unrelated to my other fics, you did help me get through some of my writer’s block I was facing today. Anyway thank you all so much for reading and if you are still waiting on your prompt/song request no worries – there is definitely more to come for this mixtape!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38, Part 39, Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45, Part 46, Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53, Part 54, Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60, Part 61, Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68, Part 69, Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75, Part 76, Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83, Part 84, Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90, Part 91, Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98, Part 99, Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103, Part 104, Part 105, Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112, Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118, Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125, Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132, Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137

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