#I meant to finish this back in April but life is chaotic so now it will be a sticker for Dokomi instead

[sleepimali]

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 28

A/N: Thanks for all the love this past week ❤️ It meant a lot to me.  Here’s 4600 words of subpar writing 😝 And FYI, we’re not getting too sad around here.  This is the only chapter they’ll be apart.  That means reunification next week!

April 12th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was with her family.  

It was Easter, and they were celebrating together, thankfully.  She was more grateful for it now more than ever, considering the state of the world.  She had stayed camped out at her apartment for the last two weeks with Kasha, who had come back from Evan’s place and was none the wiser about William being there for the fourteen days prior.  It made the most sense to Aberdeen because she still had to pay rent, and because she didn’t want to put Minerva through a stressful move again.  So, she stayed put.  Plus, now that she was living on her own, she’d know she’d go crazy if she lived with her family again.  Especially with Siena back from Ottawa because of classes in some weird state of limbo.  The sisters were thankful that Camden was independent enough to be able to learn on his own and not be constantly watched – and so was Orla.  She had enough to tackle, having her grade one class turned into online learning until further notice.  Everything was messy, and unprecedented, and weird, and not understandable, and weird, and chaotic, and confused.  

But Aberdeen had her family.  And Aberdeen had Willy.  

They’d kept their promise about calling each other every night.  Aberdeen would lay in bed and put in her headphones (so Kasha wouldn’t hear) and they’d FaceTime each other for a majority of the night, alone in their rooms, talking about anything and everything.  Sometimes they’d fall asleep talking, and their phones wouldn’t shut off, and Aberdeen would wake up an hour later and see the brightness of her phone screen still lit up, and she’d see William sleeping on the other end, his face so peaceful yet so burdened with responsibility of caring for his siblings while his parents and other siblings were eight hours and an entire continent and ocean away, and she wouldn’t have the heart to end the call.  

Things were fine in Tampa, from what he told her.  Jacquie had calmed down considerably.  Alex was…Alex – always trying to make jokes and make light of the situation.  They barely left their house, but because there were three of them there, it wasn’t too bad.  There were a lot of board games played, a lot of Netflix series watched.  From across the countries, Aberdeen and William were watching Tiger King together.  She didn’t think she’d watched anything as horrifyingly crazy.  William would crack jokes about her putting him in a meat grinder and feeding him to tigers.  She could only giggle.  

She knew that today the siblings were going to go for their first “outing”, just to get some sunshine, along the Courtney Campbell Bridge.  She hoped the weather would cooperate for them.  And once they were all home, and once Aberdeen was back at her place, the routine would begin, and she’d crawl into bed, and she’d FaceTime Willy to hear all about it.

Good Friday meant they had fish.  Easter Monday meant Orla’s roasted lamb and much of the same sides that were prepared on Christmas.  They’d still video chat with their grandparents, Camden would still play hockey in the driveway, and Aberdeen and Siena would go down into the basement and watch episodes of Brooklyn 9-9 or another show.  Routines, in a time of a global pandemic that brought so much uncertainty, were accepted with warmth.  Even for just a day, life was going to feel normal.  Orla and Mirza had even gone so far as to get their kids chocolate eggs.  It didn’t matter that the youngest didn’t believe in the Easter Bunny anymore or that the girls were in their early twenties – the gesture went farther than that.  They were all together again, even if it was just for the day.  

When Orla placed the roasted lamb at the centre of the table, asking Mirza for his plate first, Aberdeen took a giant whiff of the smell and immediately felt more relaxed.  She filled her plate with carrots and asparagus and Yorkshire pudding before her mom piled on the lamb and sauce.  

“So where’s our good friend William these days?” Orla asked as she finished serving everybody and sat down in her seat.  She immediately grabbed her knife and fork to dig in.  “He didn’t want to come for Easter?”

“I’m sure he wanted to come and have your lamb, darling,” Mirza said.

“He’s in Tampa,” Aberdeen answered, smiling slightly at her parents’ interaction.  “His brother and his sister went there at the start of lockdown, and so when he was good to go too, he went.”

“William quarantined for fourteen days too?” Mirza asked.  “Why?”

“He spoke to one of his Swedish friends on the Predators so he had to.  I bet the whole team did,” she explained.  

“Did you guys quarantine together?” Siena asked.

Aberdeen rolled her eyes.  “Hah.  Good one.”

“William has sisters?” Camden asked.

“He has three,” Aberdeen smiled.  “All of them are younger than him.”

“I can’t imagine three of you and Siena.”

Everybody at the table snorted.  “We can’t imagine three of you either, buddy,” Siena quipped back.

Camden smiled, then focused his attention back to Aberdeen.  “So what’s he doing in Tampa?”

“I don’t know.  Hanging out with his brother and sister.”

“Why don’t you call him and ask?”

“Camden,” Aberdeen said, “I can’t just call William Nylander and ask him what he’s doing so my little brother can know,” her tone made it seem like it was the most out-of-this-world idea.  But it was a total lie.  William would be at her beck and call – he always was.  If she called him right now, he’d answer.  If she called him and asked him what he was doing because Camden wanted to know, he’d answer her and tell Camden what he was doing.  He was just like that.

“I think the most important question we should be asking about William, considering the circumstances in our world right now, is whether or not he’s safe in Tampa,” Mirza interjected.  He stuffed a roasted potato into his mouth.  “Is he safe?”

Aberdeen nodded.  “He’s safe.  And he’s with his family, just like we are.”

***

Aberdeen could hear the video game sounds coming out of Camden’s Nintendo Switch as she lay in his bed, cuddled up to him while browsing through her phone.  It was later – later than she thought – but she wanted to stay at home for a little while longer, at least until Camden went to bed, because, well…it was a global pandemic and she wanted to see her family.  Her dad would drive her home eventually – she knew that.  But she wanted to spend some time with her younger brother, even if it was just cuddling with him while he played video games and she browsed Instagram.  Sometimes physical contact was the best contact; sometimes nothing needed to be said.  

“Hey Aberdeen?” he whispered.

Apparently something needed to be said.

She looked over at him and saw that he’d placed the Switch face-down on his chest.  He was looking up at her.  “Yeah bud?”

“Are you scared about the pandemic?”

Aberdeen softened immediately.  God, she wished he could stay this age forever.  She didn’t want him to grow up and turn into a moody teenager.  She wanted him like this forever: young and innocent and the little boy who cries over meeting Kyle Lowry.  “Of course I’m scared,” she admitted.  “Are you scared?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Mom’s home so it’s okay but I’m scared about dad.  What if the virus is on one of the envelopes or packages he has to deliver?  Or, like, on a mailbox?”

Aberdeen cuddled closer to her brother, if only to provide physical assurance.  There were so many unknowns about the virus.  It didn’t help that there was wall-to-wall coverage of it on the TV all the time.  “I don’t think the virus works that way, Cam.  I think—”

“But did you see how fast it spread in New York City?  Mom and dad were watching the news one night and the number of people who have it is so high,” he was so concerned.  

“I think dad’s work put a lot of, like, safety rules in place so nobody will catch it,” she tried to calm his nerves.  “Dad wouldn’t be working if it wasn’t safe.  Look at my work.  They’re not letting me work because it’s not safe.”

Camden considered his sister’s words.  She could practically see the gears shifting in his mind.  “I guess so,” he acquiesced.  “But I still think about dad a lot when he’s working.  Mom’s even praying a lot more now.”

“I figured she would be,” Aberdeen nodded.  “Listen Cam, I’m scared about everything too, but the reason why I’m not worried about dad is because dad’s a really smart guy, and we’re a family that listens to doctors and public health experts who are trying to make everything better,” she explained.  

“And don’t forget the epado…epid…”

“Epidemiologists,” she smiled, saying the word for him.  “Them too.  I’m listening to them.”

“Mom thinks I won’t go back to school this year at all.  She told me I’m gonna help her teacher her first graders,” he giggled.  “Imagine that!  At least I don’t have to take EQAO this year.”

“Lucky you,” Aberdeen wiggled her eyebrows at him.  “Hey, if I order some masks, what designs do you want on them?”

“Raptors and Leafs, obviously,” he smiled.  “Do you even need to ask?”

“Well excuuuuuuse me—”

Their conversation was interrupted by Aberdeen’s phone ringing from its place on her chest.  When she flipped it over to see who would be calling her at this hour, she should have known better than to wonder.  It was William.  It would only be William.  But he was requesting to FaceTime her.  Just as she was about to reject the call, she heard Cam gasp.  “Is that William Nylander?  He’s calling you?!”

She gulped.  “Cam—”

“Answer it!  Answer it!”

She swiped her screen.  She prayed to every saint that he wasn’t already topless.  When he finally appeared on the screen, he was wearing an oversized t-shirt.  She’d have to pray the rosary tonight.  “Hi William,” she greeted formally – no “Hi baby” or “Heeeeeyyyyy” like she usually did, hoping he’d get the hint.  

“Hello…” he answered back awkwardly, not realizing immediately why she was being so formal.  When she tilted the camera and he saw Camden lying beside her smiling from ear-to-ear, waving frantically at him, he understood.  “Heeeyyy Camden,” he greeted, waving back.  

“Hi William!” Camden said.  “How are you?”

“I’m good, buddy, how are you?”

“I’m okay,” he shrugged.  “Aberdeen told me you’re in Tampa Bay with your brother and sisters.”

“I am,” William nodded, shooting the quickest of looks to Aberdeen.  “She texted me to let me know you guys were apparently missing me today at lunch.  I already know my lunch wasn’t as great as the one your mom made.”

Camden giggled slightly.  “It definitely wasn’t.  Mom made lamb today.  Hey William?”

“Yeah bud?”

“Aberdeen told me you have three younger sisters.  I have two older ones.  How do you do it?!”

William burst out laughing, as did Aberdeen.  “Ooooooh Camden.  If I knew, I’d tell you.”

***

“How are you, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen get into her bed.  He’d called her again when he knew it was safe – when she was back at her apartment after her dad drove her home.  He hadn’t expected Camden to be on his earlier phone call, of course, but they’d spoken for about ten minutes until Camden was satisfied.

Aberdeen took a deep breath.  She was going for it.  “Jag mår bra hur mår du?” she replied in near-perfect Swedish.

She watched as William’s eyes bulged out dramatically and smiled mischievously.  “Minskatt?!” he gasped dramatically, even going so far as to sit up in bed.  She could only giggle.  “Minskatt where did that come from?  Are you…”

“Mhm,” she nodded before he could finish his thought.  “I ordered a bunch of Swedish language books and I’ve been learning since you left.  I wanted to surprise you.”

“Minskaaaaatt,” he repeated, except this time in a more playful accusatory tone.  “What have you taught yourself?”

“Just the most basic stuff,” she said.  “Hello, how are you, where is the washroom, that kind of stuff.  Verb conjugations are going to come later.  And…” she trailed off.

“And?”

She smiled again.  “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker,” she whispered.  

It was the most amazing thing William had ever heard.  It didn’t matter that the pronunciation was a bit off – it was incredible.  Incredible.  So incredible that he couldn’t handle it.  He smiled from ear to ear and buried his face in his pillow as he giggled.  “Minskatt…you have no idea how beautiful that sounds,” he said.  “Like…you honestly have no idea.”

“Do you like the surprise?” she asked.

“I fucking love it,” he said.  “Minskatt, you’re too good to me.”

“I want to learn more.  I want…I want to like, become as fluent as I can so that I can speak to your family in Swedish.  You know, when we’re in Sweden.  Whenever that is.”

William’s heart practically burst in his chest.  If it was possible, he would have spontaneously self-combusted right then and there at her words and their sweetness.  “If I could take you to Sweden tomorrow, I would.  God minskatt, I miss you so much.  I’m dying over here.”

“Me too.”

“I want to touch you so bad,” he admitted.  “I was dreaming about it the other night but then I woke up, and I couldn’t fall back asleep again.”

Her heart fluttered.  She’d dreamt about the same thing too last night and woke up sweating.  She’d never been this sexually frustrated before, even in her single days.  To think of the time they spent together during quarantine, only to have him leave and be unable to do those same thing…it was a lot to miss.  A lot to look forward too, as well, once they reunited.  But for now, she could only miss it.  “How were you touching me?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

She could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.  “You know how,” he whispered.

“Tell me,” she said, slipping her hand underneath the covers.  She snaked it down her body and underneath her pajama pants and underwear.  “Tell me how you were touching me.”

William watched as he watched her one arm move and her hand disappear.  He gulped at the sight of it.  “I was touching your pussy,” he huffed, slipping his own hand under the covers.  

“Was it wet for you?”

“Of course,” he said, grabbing hold of his cock, stroking it almost immediately.  “Is…is it wet right now?”

“Getting there,” she nodded.  

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhm,” she said, her eyes drooping slightly.  She waited a few moments as she continued to touch herself before she finally continued.  “Tell me how you were touching me.  What were you doing?”

“I was fingering you.  And my thumb was rubbing your clit…how you like it,” his voice was low.

“Mmmmm,” Aberdeen hummed, mimicking what he was saying and doing it to herself as best she could.  She’d done it for so long as a single woman that she’d practically mastered it, but ever since she’d been with William, he’d mastered it in the short amount of time too.  There was nothing he did that didn’t turn her on.  “I had your cock down my throat in my dream last night.”

“Oh fuck,” William huffed, not expecting that at all.  He thought, as always, this was gonna be about pleasuring her by some good old-fashioned phone sex.  He didn’t think she’d go so far as to include him too, considering how new the experience was.  But they were doing this.  “Was it deep in your throat?” he asked.

Aberdeen nodded.  “It hit the back.”

“Fuuuuuck Aberdeen,” he huffed.  He imagined the feeling and it sent shivers down his spine.  He got hard almost immediately at the thought as he kept stroking himself, but ever since he’d been with Aberdeen, his own hand didn’t fucking cut it anymore.  She gave him the best handjobs, the best blowjobs…everything she did was the best to him.  

“Remember when I sucked you off in the backseat of your car?” she asked, her voice sugary sweet.  William nodded his head quickly.  “Remember how you came in my mouth?  You tasted sooooo good, Willy.”

“Ab—Aberdeen—fuck, don’t—”

“I can’t wait to taste it again.”

William’s eyes rolled back.  “I can’t wait to taste your pussy again.”

“When you come back home, I want you to fuck me like you did during quarantine,” she continued.  “Fuck me hard how I like it, Willy.”

“Ab—are you—look at me when you cum, Aberdeen,” William demanded.  He could tell by just a quick look that she was almost there.  “Look at me when you cum.”

“Are you close?”

“Y—Yeah.”

“Cum with me, Willy.  Think of my tight pussy when you cum.”

She could see his face contort slightly as he closed his eyes.  She bit her bottom lip and tried to suppress a loud moan, writhing in her bed and squeezing her legs together as her orgasm took over her body.  She heard William moan too, low and guttural, and when she saw his chest heaving just as much as hers was, she knew he came too.  

As her breathing steadied out, Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle slightly.  “I can’t believe we just did that,” she admitted.  “That was—”

“That was really hot,” William finished her sentence, albeit more bluntly than her tone.  “That was—we did that quick but God it was hot.”

“Yeah,” Aberdeen nodded.  “Nothing compares to the real thing though.”

“No, it doesn’t,” William agreed.  “The second I land in Toronto – finish quarantine – whatever, I’m taking you to my place and I’m fucking you senseless.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but giggle and smirk at his words.  “Promise?”

“Promise.”

***

April 14th, 2020

“What did you and your brother do that day?” Aberdeen practically screamed into the phone as the video played on what seemed like an infinite loop on her laptop.  “Seriously.  What made you think to film that?”

“We practiced for a long time!”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure the Toosie Slide dance took a lot of practice.”

“It does!”

“Your poor sister.”

“She lived.”

Aberdeen snorted.  “And what are those shorts, William?!”

“Um, excuse me?  Are you making fun of my shorts?” he giggled.  “I thought you’d like them, seeing as they show off my thighs.  We both know how much you like my thighs…”

“Stop it.”

“No.”

***

April 20th, 2020

“Did you get some sun today?” Aberdeen asked sarcastically, seeing William on FaceTime looking redder than a tomato.  

“You’re funny.”

“Have you heard of sunscreen?”

“I wore sunscreen,” he grumbled.

“Sure you did.”

***

April 25th, 2020

“Have you been writing a lot, minskatt?” William asked as he watched Aberdeen concentrating on her screen, hearing her furious typing through the microphone.  They were on the type of call where the participants just went about their business, connected through the screen, watching the other do their work while also doing their own.  William was just being dumb and scrolling through golfing websites, but Aberdeen was actually being productive.

“Mhm,” she nodded.  “I just…well, you saw how much I wrote when we were together too.  In between the sex,” she chuckled slightly.  “But after you left, there was just this huge burst of inspiration and energy.”

“I think it was the sex,” William deadpanned, causing Aberdeen to laugh.  “The sex inspired you.”

“Well you definitely gave me the energy,” she smiled.  “Too bad what I’m writing isn’t a sex diary or something.”

“What are you writing, minskatt?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Um…” Aberdeen began, trying to formulate what she was writing into words.  “It’s about a girl.  Well, a group of girls.”

“You mean like that TV show Girls?”

“Better,” Aberdeen huffed.  “Lena Dunham is awful.”

William smiled.  “So a group of girls?”

“A group of girls and their relationships with each other.  And the expectations they have for each other that sometimes may not work in their favour.”

“So is it semi-autobiographical?”

Aberdeen side-eyed him.  Everything in writing was at least somewhat autobiographical.  But he didn’t need to know that.  “Maybe.”

***

April 27th, 2020

“I miss you so much,” William mumbled, his voice sleepy.

“I miss you too,” Aberdeen said, equally as tired.  “I can’t wait for you to hold me.  I can’t wait to just cuddle.”

“Me too.”

***

April 30th, 2020

For the first time in weeks, Aberdeen wasn’t doomscrolling about COVID-19.  She was doomscrolling about William.  

It started innocently enough, by Aberdeen reminiscing on the first time he drove her home from the airport and he spoke about his contract negotiations and how they turned a lot of people sour on him.  She believed him right then and there, but she didn’t go looking.  Now, with nothing to do and a curious mind, she went looking.

And she hated what she found.

Entire articles, practically one written every week, about his trade value.  Those same articles devalkuing him as a player and downplaying his role on the team as a top-six forward.  Panels of analysts and experts demanding that the Leafs trade him.  Entire Twitter accounts dedicated to blasting every single little thing he did on the ice.  Men with nothing better to do than to obsess over him and call him every name in the book.  

And then there was the video from Tim & Sid, the popular sports radio duo in Toronto that Aberdeen listened to for fifteen minutes once, but couldn’t get past Sid Seixeiro’s dumbass opinions.  In the video she watched, he took a less than 10-second clip of something William had said in a post-game interview during a loss against the Panthers and asked, indignantly, “What the hell is wrong with him?”  He then proceeded to go on a five-minute rant about the entire locker room having an attitude problem, how Willy had an attitude problem, how he didn’t care about the team…and people believed it.  She knew it.  People gobbled it up.  It was their serotonin while they hated him and called him a pussy on the internet and threw glasses at him in bars while drunk.  She felt sick to her stomach that these people felt this way about him.  

She’d been crying for a while before she picked up her phone to call him.  Her hands were shaking as she dialled his number, waiting for him to answer.  “Hi minskatt,” he cooed after the fourth ring.

“Willy,” she greeted, her voice shaky.

The last time she’d called him in such a state, she was being followed from her apartment.  William’s mind immediately went into overdrive.  “Minskatt?  What’s wrong?”

“Willy you know I love you, right?”

He softened slightly.  “Of course I do.  Why would you—”

“—I love you every way you are—"

“—Aberdeen—”

“—And I know you’re a good person and I love you so much, more than anything—”

“—Aberdeen—Aberdeen—stop.  What is this about?”

She took a quick breath.  “What everyone says about you, Willy.  They’re horrible.  Horrible.  I was reading and I was watching these videos and they’re just awful to you and—”

“Aberdeen, I told you not to watch those videos,” he said.

“Willy, please,” she begged.  “How could they say those things about you and not even know you?  How can they still be so bitter after your contract negotiations?!”

“Aberdeen—”

“I love you, Willy.  I love you every way you are,” she repeated.  “I don’t care what anybody has to say about you.  I love you.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Aberdeen,” he said calmly but fiercely.  “Aberdeen, you can’t listen to them.  I learned how to tune them out a long time ago.  Even if I did…I don’t care what they say about me.  I know who I am, Aberdeen.  I know the truth, and they don’t.  And you do too.”

“I do, but I just…they’re so awful, Willy.  I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Like I said…I know my truth.  My family knows.  And you do.  The most important people in my life know the truth and that’s all that matters.  I don’t give a fuck about what they think of me,” he said.  

Aberdeen stayed silent.  She knew she was overreacting, but damnit, she needed to overreact.  She’d been a part of the hockey world now for what felt like a century, and if what she had with William was going to last, it would be a major part of her life for years to come.  She needed to learn to roll with the punches.  But at the same time, she felt like if those punches were unjustified, then she was justified in being upset about them and wanting to speak out.  “I just love you so much,” she whispered, her voice much calmer now but still a bit shaky.  “God, I’m such a horrible girlfriend.  I’m calling you crying about the stupid Toronto media on the night before your birthday—”

“It’s okay, minskatt,” he interrupted.  “I would rather you call me then cry alone.  Besides, my birthday isn’t going to be special because you won’t be here.”

“Willy, don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” he replied.  “I wish I could spend it with you.  Fuck, I wish I could fly you down to Florida on a private fucking plane just so I could spend time with you.  I’d kill someone just to hold your hand right now.”

Her heart fluttered.  “I wish you’d come back to Toronto,” she whispered.  “When you get back, Willy…I’m gonna let you hold my hand so hard.”

They both snorted.  “I’ll be eagerly awaiting my gift, by the way,” he said, knowing that whatever she had in store for him for his birthday would be waiting for him when he got back to Toronto.  She made it that way – she promised, and he’d accepted.  He was dying in anticipation, but he’d accepted. 

“Want a little piece of it now?” she asked.

He smiled.  “You know I do.”

***

May 1st, 2020

Happy birthday I know you’re spending the day with your brother so it’s okay if you don’t text back I just want you to know how much I love you.  I’m sorry that I waited so long.  I’m sorry I denied it for so long.  You have been so good to me Willy.  I hope I’m half as good to you as you are to me.  I’ve never felt the love that you give me every single day from another person and I think that’s because the universe was saving it for ~you, for  ~you to show me, because I can’t picture it being from anyone else.  I love you so much and I miss you.  Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker.

i love u more than anything minskatt Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker always i will always love u i wish u were here with me nothing is the same without u

nothing is the same without you either I love you so much Willy

i love u aberdeen

[wastelandcth]

the hood family: turtles and toddlers

summary: part two of the hood family, introducing eloise koa hood, who is a little troublemaker. charlie finds out he’s going to be a big brother and dovey is in need of a coffee break. 

author’s notes: hiya! this is part two of the hood family! i hope you guys enjoy this, it took a while but i love eloise so much and can’t wait to keep writing about them. 

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, i think that’s it? 

masterlist || previous part

When Charlie was three years old and seemed to be over the terrible twos that weren't so terrible when Charlie himself was the sweetest boy on Earth, Dovey found out she was pregnant. At first, she was terrified, millions of thoughts rushing through her head as she thought about having to go through pregnancy and what her parents were going to think about her. She didn't even know what Calum was going to think, would he be happy? Would he be terrified like she was? It wasn't until the doctor called her name and handed her the small sonogram that she was pulled back into reality. She already had a wonderful baby boy back home and a loving husband and that another baby was going to make their little family even more amazing and chaotic.

When Dovey pulled Calum into their bedroom that night after dinner and slipped the sonogram into his hands, she couldn't help the smile on her face. Calum's eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he realized what he was looking at and then his eyes were on Dovey who seemed to be glowing in their bedroom.

"You're pregnant? I...that's amazing, we're going to have another baby? Oh my god, we have to get a bigger house and a bigger car! Oh my god, we have to tell Charlie. Charlie! He's going to be a big brother!" Calum was pacing around the bedroom at this point, chuckling to himself as he looked back down at the sonogram and grinned, "We're gonna have another little one. I love you so much, Dovey."

Telling a three-year-old that he was going to be a big brother sounded like a simple task, except when it came to Calum and Dovey who insisted on making it the most complicated thing they'd do that week. After debating the best way to tell Charlie that there would be a new baby in their house in a couple of months, they both settled on getting an extra turtle Halloween costume to surprise him. Charlie being his usual turtle obsesses self, was too busy getting ready to celebrate Halloween and dress up as a turtle to realize all the hints that Calum and Dovey had been leaving him those days leading up to Halloween. He didn't seem to catch on when Calum would rub Dovey's belly more often and tell her she was glowing. He seemed to ignore all the new baby stuff that his parents had been buying recently and he thought that going to look at houses meant that he was getting two rooms, one for him to sleep in and another to keep all his turtle toys. It wasn't until he was all dressed and ready to go get some candy that he realized an extra costume laying on the living room floor next to him that he thought to ask why.

"Well...when we have the new baby here next Halloween we thought you'd like it if they wore a turtle costume too. Wouldn't that be nice? If your new little brother or sister was also a turtle?" Dovey said softly as she tied his shoelaces, looking up into his brown eyes that matched his dad's.

"A new baby? Where are you getting them from?" Charlie asked confused, "The baby hospital?"

"Well, sorta, the baby is in my tummy right now but in a few months they'll be here and you'll be a big brother, isn't that exciting?" Dovey asked and chuckled, placing her hand over the small bump that had started showing a few days ago.

"Yeah, but if they're a baby...they can't be a ninja turtle momma, they'll be too tiny!" He shrugged and that was the end of it, Charlie too busy with the thought of trick or treating, grabbed his basket, and followed Calum and Duke out.

Eloise Koa Hood was born on a rainy April day, the sky was a dark grey and Dovey had been at home with Charlie all day. They'd been playing with the turtle that Charlie not so accidentally bought from her phone on a day when her contractions had started, the familiar pang of pain causing her to gasp and causing Calum to look up from the laptop he'd been typing away on for most of the morning. Life seemed to flash by and before Dovey knew it she was holding her newborn daughter in her arms, the only noise in the room beside the monitor next to her were the sniffles coming from her and Calum.

Eloise was perfect, she was a tiny bundle of love and bright eyes that met Calum's the second she was awake. She was a cuddly bundle who seemed to attach herself to Calum and never want to leave the warm embrace of his arms. Dovey watched them through tired eyes, Calum rocking the tiny baby in his arms as he whispered too quiet for her to tell what he was saying to their daughter and before she could stop herself, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a well-deserved sleep.

Charlie had been holding Mali's hand so tightly as they walked down the hospital hallway to the room where his momma, papa, and little sister were supposed to be, he had never been so excited in his life before. Dovey had told him that when the baby was finally here he'd have a best friend for life and that meant he'd have someone to always play with him and someone new that he could talk to about turtles. Mali had picked him up in her arms as they walked into the room, fixing his glasses which had tilted to one side before walking further into the room where he saw his parents.

"Hi, bud, ready to meet your little sister?" Calum said quietly, slowly standing up from the bed and walking over to him and Mali.

Charlie nodded, knowing he had to be calm and quiet because there were lots of people in hospitals and lots of babies too, and those babies liked it when it was quiet or else they would cry and he didn't really like it when babies cried. But he couldn't help the gasped that left him as Calum took him from Mali and he got the first look at his baby sister who was sleeping on his mom. She was tiny, nowhere big enough to fit in her turtle costume that they'd gotten her all those months ago. She had a yellow hat on and that made Charlie giggled because he liked the color yellow too and that meant that they already had something in common.

Dovey stared at the pictures that were framed by her desk of when Charlie first met Eloise, his giant smile shining bright like his dad's while Eloise slept peacefully. It was a nice distraction from the current chaos of their household, a nice break from the fact that she had a toddler chasing after her brother with a wand threatening to hit him on the head if he didn't play fairies with him. At two years old, Eloise was an absolute force to be reckoned with, she would get her way if it was the last thing she ever did and that's how Dovey found herself hiding in her office drinking her lukewarm coffee that she had no chance of finishing out in the living room. It wasn't until Calum snuck into the same room and looked at her confused that she managed to laugh, whether it was because she was exhausted or because she saw Calum with the same cup of coffee she'd made him this morning in his hands.

"I see you've found the hiding spot?" Calum asked and chuckled, sitting down on the floor next to her, and taking a sip of what she assumed was now cold coffee.

"Found it? Baby, I invented this hiding spot." Dovey teased, nudging him with her elbow and laughing, "These kids are a menace, they take after you I see."

Calum laughed and shook his head, wrapping his arm around his wife and pulling her close. They hadn't had much alone time these past couple of weeks, Calum was away at the studio most of the time and the kids attached themselves to their hips, and by the end of the day, they were too tired to even watch an episode of a show. Sometimes they ended up asleep with Charlie and Eloise on their laps while on the couch. Sometimes they ended up asleep on their bed and would wake up in the early hours of the morning with their two kids in between them both. Even if their family had turned to chaos in the most recent years with Eloise, Calum wouldn't trade it for a thing.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Epilogue) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)

Content Warnings: There’s uhhh... poetry smut.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: Holy crap! Here we are! It’s the end of the story!! Now, for those of you who read the original story, there’s not a whole lot that’s changed. I edited everything to fit the rest of the story and writing style, since the original version was a little rough, but other than little bits, it’s what you remember. If you didn’t read this, then welcome to the end! 

My eternal gratitude to those who helped me finish this, those who helped find my errors (my two lovely ladies are listed above), to those who read this! Who reblogged it! Who left comments and sweet tags and sent messages and made this all worth it. I constantly say that I cannot express how thankful I am and it’s true. With only words, I can only say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3<3

This epilogue is meant to tie bows around a couple major things and send these off the best way I know how. I still have a stack of headcanons and info that wouldn’t fit in here. I would love to share these things if anyone is curious. If you are, or have questions, or want to talk about specific parts, please send me messages. I would love to chat about this world that has lived in my brain and morphed over the last FIVE YEARS. 

(Poetry included is not mine: All rights reserved to Pablo Neruda "My love, understand me" and "Night on the Island" and to Leonard Cohen "The Mists of Pornography")

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Epilogue: The Art of Poetry

-x- April 

The day that Killian forgets the coffee mugs on his counter is the day he locks himself out of his apartment for the first time. He and Emma huddle on the front stoop together in the early morning chill waiting for his landlord to come unlock the door. He opens his jacket and pulls her closer, jumping when her cold nose touches his collarbone and she chuckles as she repeats the action until her nose is warm and he’s even warmer. They thank Marco profusely when he arrives with the spare set of keys.

They’re also both late for work that day.

The next day, when Emma comes back from getting coffee, there’s an envelope propped in front of her computer at work. When she opens it, a weight settles in the envelope and she pulls out the folded note. Killian’s neat handwriting stretches across the paper.

“My love,

understand me,

I love all of you,

from eyes to feet, to toenails,

inside

all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love,

who knocks at your door.”

So next time I lock myself out, you can unlock it for me.

She peers into the envelope to see the key resting in the bottom and thinks he may be onto something with poetry if it always sounds like that.

Emma makes sure to beat Killian to the door when they walk back to his place after work so she can try out her new key, and she only smiles wider when the lock slides open. She makes a big show of swinging open the door, gesturing him inside with a sweep of her arm. 

When she gets home that night, Snow and David have once again broken into her loft, but she doesn’t much care for two reasons. Firstly, she knew they were going to do this after they texted her twenty minutes ago and asked whether or not she was spending the night at Killian’s. Secondly, it takes her five whole seconds to read the message on Snow’s shirt that proudly states that she’s “Pregnant AF” (the shirt’s words, not hers) and there’s a whole bunch of happy crying and flailing that follows. 

-x- Late August

Emma arrives home a little late one night to Killian already making dinner. The routines they do still live with all include household chores and the way they divvy them up, and she’s perfectly fine with the structure he’s brought to her previously chaotic lifestyle. He glances over his shoulder when she walks in and smiles.

“Get stuck late again?”

“Not quite,” she says as she comes to stand behind him. “That smells amazing, by the way.”

“It’ll be done in just a bit.”

“Want me to set the table?”

“I’d like to know why you’re avoiding a simple inquiry into why you were so late in such an obvious manner.”

Emma sighs heavily. “I kind of walked all the way back to the loft before I realized I didn’t live there anymore.”

“Kind of? I don’t think that’s something you can kind of do, love,” he says, still managing to stir whatever it is he’s making even when she goes to swat his arm. 

“Okay, so I did. You said it yourself, though. Old habits, right?” She hops up on the counter to watch him cook. 

“Indeed, love. So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you feel our adventures have measured up to the expectations?”

“Well, you didn’t turn into a frog.”

“Aye, I’m sure there’s still time for that. We’re only in the middle of this tale. We’ll just have to see where the pages take us from here.”

“You are such a fucking romance novelist,” she says, laughing brightly when Killian removes his sauce from the stove and turns it off before he moves in to attack. And even though she’s squirming to get away from his nimble fingers as they target her ticklish spots, she sends up a quick thank you to Killian’s faulty alarm clock and his old habit of routines. 

-x- September

“You could just leave those until later,” Killian says, coming up behind Emma as she washes their dishes from dinner. He has his hand and hook on her hips and his lips on her hair, his voice full of implication. 

He’s learned not to try to talk her out of cleaning up, and instead he just enjoys distracting her in the best ways possible. 

She’s wearing a skirt - something she only does when she’s out of leggings - and the soft gray jersey fabric clings to her hips before flaring and draping down. It hides much of her legs, but her backside looks fantastic in it. On top, she has a light yellow shirt that’s tickling at his memories, the lines of a poem he once memorized during his university years making their way back to mind. 

Steady movements continue as she washes and rinses each dish, stacking them in the drying rack before starting to scrub out the sink. He’s struggling to remember the lines, yellow sweater, and with a smirk he glides his hand down to palm the back of her thigh.

“These are anything but boyish haunches,” he says out loud. Emma gasps as the shift from peaceful innocence to dirty.

“What?”

He hums, nosing some of her hair aside so he can find her neck with his lips. “From a poem. Your shirt brought it back to me. ‘The Mists of Pornography’ was the title,” he responds, moving his hand to the front of her thigh and sliding it up to rest on a spot right below her hipbones.

“Why am I not surprised that you know something with ‘pornography’ in the title?”

“Ah, but Swan, it’s about much more than that. Close your eyes. Listen,” he says, and uses his hook to brush the hair off her neck and lean closer to her ear. He sways just a little bit closer as he starts to speak. 

When you rose out of the mist / of pornography - He runs a single finger along her spine until it rests between her shoulders - with your talk of marriage / and orgies / I was a mere boy / of fifty-seven / trying to make a fast buck / in the slow lane / It was ten years too late / but I finally got / the most beautiful girl / on the religious left / to go with her lips / to the sunless place - and here he makes sure to push his hips against her to emphasize as she snorts. He continues reciting, crowding her against the counter, making sure the edge is pressing right where he wants it to.

This was my life / in Los Angeles / when you slowly / removed your yellow sweater - As he speaks, he slowly draws her shirt over her head and she lifts her arms - and I slobbered over / your boyish haunches - He runs his hand over the path that started this all and pushes the skirt off her hips to rub over the back of a now-bare thigh - and I tried to be / a husband / to your dark and motherly / intentions.

I thank you / for the ponderous songs / I brought to completion / instead of fucking you / more often - He punctuates by rolling his hips against her and she gasps as she clutches the sink for stability, and he keeps going.

Your panic cannot hurry me here / and my panic and falling / shoulders / our shameless lives / are the grains / scattered for an offering / before the staggering heights / of our love - His hand glides over her stomach and up to cup a breast through her bra. He’s sure she can feel where his cock is pressing against her ass, hard and wanting. Her hips are pinned against the sink and with each line, he thrusts against her, slowly lighting the fuse of what promises to be a spectacular orgasm if he doesn’t stop.

And the other side of your anxiety / is a hammock of sweat / and moaning - It’s getting harder to pay attention to the poem, especially when he pulls down the straps and cups of her bra, palm meeting her already hardened nipples as he alternates between them. Her body shudders with pleasure and he struggles to continue - and time comes down / like the smallest pet of God / to lick our fingers - he licks her shoulder instead - as we sleep / in the tangle / of straps and bracelets. 

With a great deal of effort, he keeps going, trying to make the lines appear in his head so he can read them off with ease and still give her the attention she deserves - and Oh the sweetness of first nights / and twenty-third nights / and nights / after death and bitterness - She reaches one arm back to wrap around his neck and firmly grasps his hair - and the impeccable order / of the objects on the table - He’s rocking her into the counter at just the right speed and he can tell how close she is with each new word - the weightless irrelevance / of all our old intentions / as we undo / as we undo / every difference.

With the last word of the poem out of his mouth, she tugs hard at his hair and she climaxes, coming undone and leaning back against his chest and tries to catch her breath. 

“Oh god, Killian,” she moans. He’s still rocking them against the counter as she rides out her orgasm. “By far, this is the most interesting way you’ve ever made me orgasm.

“Have I made you a fan of poetry yet, Swan?” He moves his hand back down to her hips, his fingers sliding just under the waist of her panties. She feels loose and light as she turns in his arms and pulls him against her.

“A couple more poems like that and I can definitely be convinced,” she says. “But for now I think I’m more interested in spending time with this one. What was that about lips and sunless places?”

His mind reels because she drops to her knees between him and the cabinets. He grips the counter for stability when she drags her teeth over the zipper of his slacks.

“Think you can recite another one?” She unfastens his trousers, sliding the material down and taking his boxer briefs with it. She wraps one hand around the base of his cock, lightly gripping his hip with the other.

“Hmm?” He’s concentrating really hard on not rocking his hips forward into her skilled hands, incredibly aware of the counter just behind her head. The absolute last thing he wants to do is accidentally give his girlfriend a concussion.

“Another poem, Killian. You have another one up in that head of yours?” She leans in and licks the tip of his erection, grinning up at him.

His mind scrambles for any other poems he memorized.

“You’re making it incredibly difficult to concentrate, love, but I did always love a challenge” he admits, another moan pulling from him as she wraps her lips around the head and sucks lightly. She pulls back again and looks up at him, her smile shining in her eyes.

“You once promised to read me dirty poetry. You’ve given me one. Surely you have another up there,” she says before leaning forward to kiss a spot below his hip bone. 

“There once was a man from Nantucket,” he starts, but she cuts him off with her laughter.

“No, no. Make it a good one.”

The poem that finally makes its way to his mind is not dirty, but he knows she’ll appreciate it. He clears his throat, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the words in his head instead of the love at his feet.

All night I have slept with you / next to the sea, on the island. He begins, and she runs her hands along his thighs. Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, / between fire and water. She grips his cock again and begins stroking it gently, placing kisses along his hip again as he continues.

Perhaps very late / our dreams joined / at the top or at the bottom, / up above like—

“Fuck, Emma,” he moans, her mouth going from the innocence of kisses to wrapping her lips around him once more and swirling her tongue around the tip.

“Keep going,” she pants out when she breaks away, dipping her head right back in when he starts reciting once more.

Perhaps your dream / drifted from mine / and through the dark sea / was seeking me / as before, / when you did not yet exist, / when without sighting you / I sailed by your side, / and your eyes sought / what now—/ bread, wine, love, and anger—/ I heap upon you / because you are the cup / that was waiting for the gifts of my life.

The hand that isn’t gripping the base of his cock trails up his thigh once more, pausing on his hip for a moment before brushing under the shirt that he’s still wearing and she runs her nails down his chest.

I have slept with you / all night long while / the dark earth spins / with the living and the dead, / and on waking suddenly / in the midst of the shadow / my arm encircled your waist. / Neither night nor sleep / could separate us.

She begins bobbing her head while her hand strokes the rest of his length, and it’s a struggle to remember the last stanza for a moment. He drops his head, opens his eyes again to watch her move and it’s too much. His movements against her during the first poem had already aroused him, and her attentions on him now are pushing him closer to the edge.

Emma moans around his length and his knuckles go white where he’s still gripping the counter. He can feel his release coming and she feels it too, speeds up and doesn’t prolong the torture. When it hits him, he has to brace his feet a little more so he doesn’t collapse. He’s breathing hard when she gracefully stands back up into the cage of his arms. She’s grinning, the cat that got the cream, as she winds her arms around his neck.

“Is that the end?” she asks, fingers threading through his hair. He shakes his head and swallows, wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.

I have slept with you / and on waking, your mouth, / come from your dream, / gave me the taste of earth, / of sea water, of seaweed, / of the depths of your life, / and I received your kiss / moistened by dawn / as if it came to me / from the sea that surrounds us.

He kisses her after saying the last verse, tasting his release still lingering on her tongue, and she hums into the kiss.

“Not bad,” she says when she breaks the kiss. “You may have just swayed my opinion. I’m now pro-poetry.” She’s smiling when she meets his eyes, and he chuckles. He places one more kiss on her forehead before bending to hastily pull his underwear back up, stepping out of his discarded trousers and leaving them on the floor.

“I’ll try a lofty and pretentious one next time,” he promises, remembering their previous discussions about poetry now that she’s brought them up.

“Only if you’re fucking me into the mattress when you do it,” she says off-handedly. He huffs out a laugh and rests his forehead against hers.

“You’ll be the death of me, love.” He hugs her tight to him as he says it and he can feel the laugh vibrate through her.

“But you love me anyways,” she responds, dancing her fingers across his shoulders.

“Aye, until the end of time.” He kisses her again, and she whispers her love for him across his lips.

And when they wind up in bed a short time later, he recites whatever he can think of—limericks, haiku, even a poem by Shel Silverstein—as he fulfills her request. 

When the Save-the-Dates go out a few months later, there is, indeed, an asterisk at the bottom that says “David was right.”

[dandelliongirl]

What a year

2020 was..

The last time I wrote anything it was April, and now it is the 23rd of December and I’m about to go spend Christmas with my family. My last failed attempt at christmas bread is in the oven (for some reason it didn’t proof at all, I guess I put too much flour in..) and I’m cooking up some Christmas porridge on the stove. Watch me burn that in a moment too.. For some reason this whole autumn has been a very stressful disaster. I am still working from home and just logged myself off of work until the 7th of January 2021. Maybe because I’ve been working from home it feels difficult to get into holiday mode. At least we got some snow today so it looks beautiful.

Spring and summer 2020 were an absolute dream! With no responsibilities and the possibility to work from anywhere I got to spend so much time with my family and at our summer house away from the stress of the real world. I could not have dreamt of a better summer, and apart from strawberry picking (at an actual farm, not just from my own strawberry plants) I got to finish off my summer’s to-do list. I even made a cute little summer video with my old Canon EOS 100D (yes - I have a new Canon EOS 90D now!). Endless days of exploration, swimming, biking, sauna, gardening, having lunch with the midsummer roses, baking rhubarb galettes with my own rhubarb from the garden, biking to the ice cream van, SUP-boarding with dad and spending so much time outdoors made me happier than I could ever be. I cannot believe how many beautiful things COVID has given me despite it’s awful impact on the world.

The start of the autumn semester was chaotic to say the least. Practically all of our system integrations are behind one developer, and he happened to be on vacation when everything went down, and study rights did not transfer correctly. This lead to an insane rush of support requests across the board, and lots of extra stress. I was exhausted and scared after last autumn’s disasters and definitely didn’t need another one to start the new semester. I’m starting to seriously fear August... Other universities have tens of people in their technical support, and we have TWO (sometimes 3). In more positive news I was given a permanent job contract starting August, which was amazing, and makes me so grateful especially during a year when many lose their jobs and get laid off. I guess that also contributes to my levels of stress as I cannot hide behind “I just work here for another few months”, but I have to actually take responsibility and ownership as a permanent team member.

Basically a lot of things escalated at work this autumn because our entire staff is way over burdened with COVID changes and the systems not working in an ideal fashion. Because our organisation does not have clear and defined process ownerships many changes come alongside the implementation of new systems, which puts me as a system admin (and not a process expert) in an awkward position. Hopefully our organisation will be able to develop and reconfigure responsibilities with some outside help, but for some reason my hopes aren’t very high.. All in all the anger and frustration of the organisation has been reflecting on the way people treat us and each other and as an empath it has been very exhausting. Luckily my new team is amazing and I’m having so much fun working with them - even though we aren’t physically working together at the office. I cannot imagine how it would be if my previous colleague hadn’t left. I hope she is happy and thriving as well!

All in all what got me through the autumn was the fact that I got to work from home. Being able to take a 10-15 minute nap when things got overwhelming pretty much saved me. Also the fact that I can wear whatever, make tea or snacks whenever I need to and don’t have to spend time moving from one location to the other. My guy got his own computer desk and a proper chair, and we’ve both been working from our very crammed but cozy livingroom. Even though our hobbies have been on and off I’ve gotten a few moments to myself and have also gotten used to doing my thing even though he is always here. No big relationship drama apart from the occasional little argument.

Ballet and body combat got to continue in person for most of the season. The last couple of weeks of ballet classes were on Teams, and the last body combat class was on Facebook with the season ending a couple of weeks early, but other than that having hobbies outside the house definitely helped. I have also loved having my ballet friend stay home instead of studying abroad. Obviously it sucks for her because it has meant a lot of changes to her plans, but I’ve needed her so much, and enjoyed our walks, hanging out together, going to ballet and the hours we spent outside talking on our way back. Ballet classes have been pretty easy as we only go to pointe and adult classes, but at least we are having fun together, and I like to somewhat maintain my skills even though I am not improving by miles. It’s also easier for the body as I’m definitely no longer a teenager. Starting next year we’ll have a fancy new studio!

After the relaxing summer it has definitely felt like I don’t have enough hours in a day or days in a week to do everything I need to. I cannot believe how I used to do all this and so much more pre-COVID but I guess it’s all because Animal Crossing didn’t take anywhere between 30 minutes to 5-8 hours a day. Oops. Needless to say I have been loving ACNH even though the Halloween and Turkey Day events were a bit too easy compared to New Leaf. I have high hopes for Toy Day tomorrow (YIKES! TOMORROW?) even though I haven’t had to go through the usual process of noting down all my villagers’ wishes, which I definitely miss. I am sad the diy recipe RNG has been so bad though. I’ve spent a couple of days spawning balloons on my beach, and never got the big Christmas tree diy in time. Maybe I’ll get it tonight but it’s definitely too late for this year.. Maybe next year then. I didn’t struggle this much with the maple and mush series diys..

So yeah, last summer me and my friend finished our old photography project and I edited the last sets of photos to give the finished book for her as a Christmas present. I love the project a lot because the learning curve is so apparent between photoshoots, and I found my “style” throughout the process. My EOS 100D started to get weird electronical bugs and definitely wasn’t running very well anymore, so after insane amounts of research I decided to get the EOS 90D from a Black Friday sale. I still need a memory card and a new camera bag for it since it’s so much bigger, but I’ve already planned out some future photoshoots and the theme of the new project, which can be described as “Adventure”, “Expedition” or “Discovery”. I just hope my friend will have time to model for me because I’m yearning to go try my new camera out.

My boyfriend and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary with a friend couple who started dating a week after we did. We took an extended weekend trip to a national park, a spa and a rental cabin. It was so much fun and a very special way to celebrate 10 years together. Especially with an exceptional year like this one has been.

Yesterday me and mum went to granny and grandpa’s place to help with the last of their Christmas preparations, take over some food and sing Christmas songs. I took our old piano book with me and mum played the piano while we sang. Grandpa got teary eyed during a special song and it was so incredibly bittersweet. I don’t want to lose my grandparents but I know it won’t be long since they are both approaching 100 years. I am so thankful for them, and for the time I’ve gotten to spend with them. I just wish I could remember more of it. It seems so unfair that we never have enough time with all our loved ones, and there are so many childhood memories other people remember that I don’t. I wish I could go back in time and observe myself spending time with my grandparents to memorise everything. If I ever have children I’m going to take so many photos and videos to preserve as much as I can for them.

In my post from April I wrote that I had been looking at houses and vacant lots. Well, the house of a childhood friend of mine is listed and I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve arranged my mortgage and left an offer. The sellers didn’t accept my first offer so now I’m going to see the house again on the 30th to see if it’s wort raising my offer. I like the house but it’s definitely a bit inconvenient as it is a 3 storey house and way too big and expensive for our current needs. I just really like the area and it is one of the best houses in that neighborhood. I’m going to let things progress naturally though, and if I end up with the house then it was meant to be. If someone else makes a higher offer I won’t be upset either since we have no immediate need to move. It’s just a bit crammed in our current apartment and I would definitely like to have an actual office for my photography equipment, and a sewing machine/crafting space.

Looks like my christmas bread cracked pretty badly but at least it rose a little in the oven.. Hopefully it is edible. At least the one I made for granny and grandpa turned out better.. Time to go scarf down the last of my porridge (which I didn’t burn by the way!) and then try to get all my stuff over to mum and dad’s place. Christmas preparations this year have been crazy busy and I definitely regret not being able to enjoy the season enough but hopefully I’ll get more in the spirit tonight. I’m really happy with the gifts I got mum, dad and my guy this year (online and early in October/November to avoid the rush).

I’m hoping to make a new year’s post on here as well either before 2021 or during the first week. I just like writing things down so that I can look back on where I’ve been. :)

Happy holidays whether you’re spending them with your loved ones (in real life or through a video call) or alone.

[nightklok]

chickles for 2? or toki for 3 if someone asked for chickles already :3

Fandom Memes [open!] (shout out to firefox for crashing and making me rewrite this like twice-so i continued to add more to this because why not)

When I started shipping them: Oh this is actually a funny story- I can’t quite remember when I started shipping them but according to AO3, I read a chickles fanfic in November 2019 (the only one i didn’t reread because im sure there were others i read too) and that was around when I began starting the show. But around that time, I SWEAR when I looked at Charles wiki, there was some line there that was along the lines of  ‘Charles and Pickles had slept together sometime before Dethklok. while pickles doesn’t remember it, charles does’ I don’t even know if it was possibly a fever dream, mixing up a fanfic as canon, or I just happened to scroll through it when someone threw the line in BUT I CONSIDERED IT CANON and I lowkey waited for that scene as I remembered it on/off and it didn’t take until April 2020 when I finally finished the show to realize that it wasn’t canon D: so thanks to fanfics and probably misreading something in November-december 2019 that’s when I shipped them :D (Also if anyone knows where I may have gotten this from pls link me)

My thoughts: I love them!! They’ve made me happy shipping them and they’re just a good and wholesome ship to me! I think it has everything I could ever want in a ship; the angsty and sad moments but also the happy ones- I don’t know how I can articulate just how much they clicked with me but they really did! They’re like the ultimate band parents,

What makes me happy about them: I think I love how they can bring something in each other that they normally wouldn’t be able to do themselves. I headcanon Pickles as someone with ADHD (and aries because hi im an aries with ADHD) and I think Charles would be able to help calm him down and keep him focused or at least stimulated when he needs to be. Being with Charles can help him be a bit controlled (Though sometimes not by much when he wants to be a tease haha). I love the idea too of Pickles being able to bring Charles to have a more exciting day or just being able to help break routine a bit. Pickles sometimes likes to do things on the spur of the night just to keep himself entertained and Charles prefers to keep things in a schedule. They would find a compromise where Charles clears out a day and Pickles just takes him somewhere random. Is it a concert? Forest? Amusement park? Half the fun’s in not knowing! But Charles enjoys that he can be a bit looser and actually get to laugh and smile and just be having the time of his life with him-

What makes me sad about them: I think Doomstar/Post-doomstar and even the events between season 2 and 3 makes me sad, it breaks my heart in two just thinking about it. Pickles...would be so fucking devastated  when Charles died, especially if we go by if they met during Snakes N’ Barrels and he may have never gotten a chance to confess his feelings (or he did for more sadness) and Post-doomstar? He probably ends up blaming Charles leaving on himself and- though depending on where we’re thinking of the possibility of the timeline of their relationship, Going Downklok may have wrecked their relationship because alternatively, Pickles may not have flirted with Abigail but probably something else caused them to break up or destroy their relationship. There was a lot of tension/build up in that episode so I guess their build up and eventual burst would be feelings having to resurface, possibly Pickles getting too far in his addictions and Charles still revealing nothing about what happened during his absence or why he came back; so then you get  the dinner scene and it was the straw that broke the camel’s back to get him to quit and then all the events unfold and Pickles just blames himself so heavily on it  oh god i need to WRITE THIS

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: I don’t think there’s anything in fanfic that annoys me when people write them- It’s more of being uncomfortable/disturbed?...there were a few fics I came across where Charles was borderline abusive/overly sadistic (and one where I wish I hadn’t read-) that left a bad taste in my mouth after reading it. I just feel like that’s way too OOC and Charles definitely isn’t the type of person to be an abusive asshole and/or would definitely know the boundaries of being sadistic in the bedroom while still making sure his partner is into it/feels safe. But i guess that kinda goes in general for any Charles/character fics- 

Things I look for in fanfic: I think them being in character, an interesting plot line, and just it being well written is all i can ask for haha-I honestly love any Chickles fanfic out there; I think the things I look for in particular are either his reactions to seeing Charles when he comes back or anything post doomstar but also implying that they met during Snakes N Barrels help

My wishlist:

I guess I’m just gonna shove in things I hope to write actually- (screaming at me to write particular fics helps motivate me so go @ it-)

A Star reader AU: this actually would be the one of the first (probs second or third) Chickles fic I had ever written as I had drafted it around ago even though I had initially planned for the Chickles to kinda be hinted at but with what I know now, would make it more prevalent. If anyone has read Blood Red Road by Moira Young you might see where I’m going but basically, there was a character who was able to read the stars and predict the future. (if you’re hoping the novel goes more into that i’m sorry-) So if we make Charles one of those people, then probably adds more depth to why he chose to work with Dethklok right? :D  Secret singer fic: I AM writing that one!! I just got sidetracked but God I’m gonna get back to it as soon as I can!! Basically for anyone else reading this, Charles and his friends put up a bet to see how difficult (or easy) it would be for Charles to become internet famous by having him post covers/original songs under an anonymous name. It becomes a chaotic mess when he gets more than he bargained for and does end up gaining some popularity, someone on the internet spreads the rumor the singer is someone famous, and a particular someone came across those songs and finds the lyrics almost a little too relatable. That fic where instead of Pickles being happy that Charles is back from the dead and they can live happily ever after, he becomes incredibly distressed and heartbroken because he ends up suffering major trauma. because seeing your bf ‘die’ all bloodied and mangled and coming back with only a scar and secrets he won’t tell you? That’s definitely years worth of therapy right there. That is like the only fic of this list even remotely close to finishing but God, definitely one of the most difficult to write- Fics where they met before/during Snakes N’ Barrels. I need to write one or two fics on that because I consider it canon. I’m sure I have mentioned drafting one or two fics like that?? Gotta look through my evernotes-

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I’m sorry but no my mind refuses to delve further- And i mean I’ve been digging Magnus/Charles lately and we all know how that wouldn’t last either so they’re meant for each other fjkdsfjlk

My happily ever after for them: The boys defeat Salacia, Charles and Pickles reunite and kiss for the first time in such a long time. They’re finally happy together and get to officially date (or continue where they left off). Charles is able to retire as the priest as his work is completed (or he manages to get it more public considering they saved the world so most likely it’d be a recognized religion) They get married, and when Dethklok officially retires, they buy a few houses, maybe even do music projects together or Charles takes over Crystal Mountain Records actually and Pickles helps out by being one of the music producers, they adopt a cat or dog or both, and just be happy with each other :D

[jmsa1287]

With Her Quarantine-Themed Opus 'How I'm Feeling Now,' Charli XCX & Her Clique Level Up

Charli XCX has been at the forefront of pop music over the last decade and with "How I'm Feeling Now," a quickly-made album created entirely in quarantine with a madcap collection of Internet musicians and input from fans, Charli goes to the next level.

Between 2014 and 2017, Charli XCX almost became the next Lady Gaga. She had released bonafide hits like her Billboard Hot 100 top 10 banger "Boom Clap," from the soundtrack for the tragic teen romance "The Fault in Our Stars." She wrote songs for huge pop stars like Selena Gomez, will.i.am, Blondie, the K-pop group Twice. She was also featured on chart-toppers like Icona Pop's "I Love It," and Iggy Azalea's no. 1 hit "Fancy." But instead of choosing a path where she'd work with producers Max Martin and Pharrell, Charli looked further ahead, stayed online and became the most interesting pop star currently working.

Last week, she released "How I'm Feeling Now," what she's calling her fourth studio album. It arrived on streaming platforms after the British musician announced its conception about six weeks ago on April 6 via a Zoom chat with fans, stressing that it would be a D.Y.I. project with them while she's under lockdown and in quarantine at her Los Angeles home. With 11 songs and a 37-minute runtime, the album, a collaborative effort to be sure, is a masterpiece where Charli makes the most vulnerable and powerful album since Beyonce's 2013 self-titled surprise release. It's an urgent piece of emotional art that finally unifies Charli's ethos and talent into an impressive synthesis of sounds, songwriting and style. And it arrives at a vital moment.

"HIFN" follows her eponymous album from last year — a collaborative effort in a different way as it features several popular artists (Lizzo, HAIM, Christine and the Queens, Kim Petras, Troy Sivan, Sky Fierrea, Cupcake, Big Freedia and more) contributing vocals and felt like, at the time, it was meant to elevate Charli's status in the pop world. It's Charli at her most polished — so much so that the edginess of her music was scrubbed too clean and not everything worked. Her frequent collaborator A.G. Cook, the leader of the internet-dwelling musical collective PC Music, had his signature 00s computer nostalgic sounds bump up against other producers' ideas. A few years before "Charli," she shared the four-track EP "Vroom Vroom" — a maximalist effort from Cook and SOPHIE (another prominent member of PC Music who has had a successful solo career while working with huge names like Madonna) that marked a pivotal career turn for her; a flag signaling that Charli had fully invested in PC Music's chaotically beautiful inorganic sound. In 2017, she released back-to-back mixtapes: the stellar "Number 1 Angel" and the critically acclaimed and fan-adored "Pop 2." Over the release of those four projects, her partnership with Cook grew, morphed and worked out its kinks. On "HIFN," Charli and Cook — both credited as executive producers — unite their best talents while welcoming other sounds from producers, like BJ Burton (a Bon Iver collaborator who is also credited an executive producer), Danny L Harle (who got his start with PC Music as well), Dijon, Palmistry and Dylan Brandy, one half of the mind-bending duo that feels like the logical evolution of PC Music, 100 gecs.

At a time when major-label pop stars are delaying the release of their music — like Lady Gaga, who put off her long-awaited sixth album "Chromatica" a month-and-a-half due to the coronavirus pandemic — Charli is seizing the moment. (Similar to Charli, rising pop star Dua Lipa bumped up the release of her disco-inspired sophomore album "Future Nostalgia" a week back in March.) By directly working with fans — asking them to submit phone footage for music videos and gathering their input on songs by sharing demos to social media and hopping on Zoom chats — Charli has turned her new project into something beautiful and hopeful during a time when most of us are craving any sort of interaction, never mind from a legit pop star. The pandemic is forcing everyone inside and closing us off from family and friends. But Charli is rising to the moment — a moment that feels destined for her —reaching out to her fans to make something that's so of our time.

Though "HIFN" is an impressively made album with music that sounds like it simultaneously comes from both the past and the future, it's untimely successful for being a cathartic and freeing album. Charli has full creative autonomy here and isn't constrained by label meddling. "HIFN" is loud, abrasive, sad, confident and sexy. It's a patchwork of sounds that are stitched together by Charli and Co. where she jumps from genre-to-genre (and sometimes from mico-genre-to-micro-genre) in a matter of seconds, similar to the 100 gecs album "1000 gecs" from last year. It'll give you whiplash where songs are so complex and intricate it's hard to believe it was made in about a month, like on the pulsating and glitchy "Claws," co-produced by gecs' Brady, bounces from love-song to a rave banger that gives way into an eruption of static. To call "HIFN" visceral would be an understatement as a number of tracks are and raw; walls of sound pummel you like on the opener "Pink Diamond," where she sings, "Every single night kinda feels the same I'm a pink diamond/ I need space" as a cacophony of synths and sound effects ram into each other.

"HIFN" defies expectations in many ways; not only that it exists and is excellent from start-to-finish, but the songs themselves are like puzzle pieces arranged in such a way that they pull tricks on what you expect from convention songwriting and producing. Production on "HIFN" is constantly shifting with some tracks initially feel like two or three songs slapped together but careful listening is rewarding as it's revealed how stunningly crafted they are, like "c2.0." That song begins with a sludgy beat but sheds itself to reveal a slick pop song, sounding nothing like the first 90 seconds. It also interpolates Charli's self-titled album cut "Click": "I miss them every night / I miss them by my side / Catch my tears when I cry / My clique on me for life," she sings about the lost days and nights with friends.

Songs you think are about to end go on for another two minutes (like the ethereal and wound-up "Detonate," an album highlight) and songs that you expect to climax collapse inward, like the epic "party 4 u" — the album's best song. It's a lovelorn track full of yearning about throwing a party for a crush who never shows up. It's a simple message (when you're into someone but they don't quite reciprocate those feelings) that's been expressed millions of times throughout the history of pop music - but not quite like this. It opens with an otherworldly synth and builds and builds until it reaches its apex. But instead of a release of sound that you expect, "party 4 u" — the longest song on "HIFN" (nearly 5-minutes) — goes silent and starts from the beginning, becoming one of the most powerful moments on the album.

The track also brings "HIFN" full circle in a profound way. It's a song that's been around for a few years and, after leaking online, it quickly became a fan favorite where people would request it at shows. Charli and A.G. Cook said they always considered putting it on an album but Charli said she was "hesitant...because I like the mythology around certain songs." Nevertheless, Charli said that including "party 4 u" on the album might seem "small and silly" but "it's the time to give something back." Indeed, it's a payoff for those who have invested in the world-building and mythology Charli has created for the last five years as "party 4 u" closes with a live recording from a concert in which fans are requesting the track itself, prior to its official release. It's a beautiful sentiment that propels the album and Charli and her team to a new level of artistry.

[themisterdarcy]

dear darcy,

what’s up? it’s currently thursday, april 30, 2020. we are in the middle of the covid-19 pandemic, and north carolina is on lockdown. well, technically. we are actually the worst state in the entire country in pandemic support. there are 1.06 million confirmed cases in the entire country, with 9,948 in north carolina, and 1,567 in mecklenburg county alone. the stay-at-home order is still supposed to be lifted on may 8th, though. that’s next friday. i don’t know how on earth anybody thinks that is a good idea, but the governor has the power in this situation.

school is canceled for the rest of the year, meaning that i have to finish my junior year online. i’m disappointed that i have to miss prom and seeing my friends (especially kai), but i think it’s for the best. nobody expected covid-19 to be this big of a deal, or for the quarantine to last this long. the day before schools closed, my apush teacher, mr. church, told us that he thought the situation was “blown out of proportion” and i quote: “there’s no way that school is going to be canceled.” even when schools closed, we were originally supposed to be back in school by march 30! here we are, a month later, and there’s no end in sight for this crisis.

trump is being absolutely useless, and even detrimental to the effort to contain the virus. he his early information about the virus, and didn’t bother to take precautions, leaving the country unprepared. by the time of the first case, it was hopeless. this week (or last week... time is all running together right now), he actually suggested in a press conference that a way to prevent/cure coronavirus would be to inject bleach/disinfectant into the body, or to illuminate the body from the inside with a uv light to kill the virus. both of these options as said by trump (uv light actually does have some merit to it, but it is in an entirely different context than trump suggested, and still in developmental phases) would be fatal, and aren’t even a solution to the main issue at hand: containing and controlling the spread of the virus.

in my opinion, new zealand has it down. i only know about it because amanda palmer is quarantined there, but they’re getting close to the end of 5 weeks of near complete lockdown. people are not allowed to leave their houses or visit non-immediate family members at all, and parks and public spaces are closed. while it does seem a little like an overextension of governmental power, it’s working. new zealand only has 1,476 total cases. thanks to prime minister jacinda ardern, the entire country has fewer cases than mecklenburg county. yes, new zealand only has a population of about 5 million, while mecklenburg county has 1.1 million, it’s still impressive that a population five times the size has 100 fewer cases. i honestly wouldn’t mind temporarily giving up some of my civil liberties and democratic principles if it meant that covid-19 was knocked out and controlled.

the people who are protesting the lockdowns are quite frankly narcissistic idiots who cannot see past their own ego. yes, staying at home is difficult and boring, but it’s the only way that life has any sort of chance of returning to a form of normalcy. i don’t think things will be exactly the same, nor do i think they should, but i do want to be able to hang out with friends again. i do want to go to school and have my senior year. i do want to be able to move out and go to college when the time comes. the more people disregard reality and ignore social distancing, the longer life will be like this. the protesters are only making things worse for themselves, and the saddest part is that i don’t think they realize this.

i’m writing these letters to future me (that’s you, darcy!) so that i can have a document of my life from the pandemic. also, i want to be able to remember what being 17 was like when i’m older. i do keep a journal, but that’s more for songs, poetry, and breakdowns. screaming into the void of the internet just feels more Official to me. also, i can’t lose a blog. that’s the thing about the internet: it’s forever, for better or for worse.

i think that i will open each letter with a discussion of any updates about the pandemic, focusing mainly on concrete facts and statistics. these are important to document, and i wish i had been recording this from the beginning. maybe i will go back and create a timeline, but i’m not sure yet. that might just be a task for another sleepless night. after the corona rundown, though, i’ll go into my own experiences and thoughts about the events of my life. these will probably be in bullet-point form, since my mind has the tendency to jump around as if topics were trampolines. i don’t know how often i’ll write, but i will try to everyday. every letter won’t be as long as this one, that’s for sure, but i do tend to ramble on. i hope you’re not overwhelmed, darcy.

taking a much needed break from 2020, how’s your life at the moment? i don’t know how old you are, but i’m assuming that you’re in college at the very least. are you and kai still together? i hope so. i really do love them. have you come out to the family yet? have you changed your name legally yet? i need to do that before my college graduation, because i want my degrees to be in My Name. the thing is, i’ll need to come out to change my name, and that is an issue i don’t really care to think about at the moment. how did that go? was it as bad as i expect it will be? have you started t? besides transitioning, how is your academic and career life? i hope to go to the university of texas at austin and double major in physics and music theory and composition. did that happen? if it didn’t, where did you go to school, and did you stick with the course of study i mentioned? i can’t really imagine studying anything else, to be honest. physics and music theory are two of the most intimidating and difficult subjects there are, and they also happen to be my favorite subjects. i love being challenged mentally, and i also like being seen as intimidating. imagine: a punk, non-binary, queer physicist who also writes and performs music. is there anything more intimidating than that? i aspire to be the “scary kid in your physics class.” i want to be an exception.

i’ve written so much already, but i do have quite a bit to get off my chest. yesterday was a weird day, and i couldn’t sleep at all last night, so here we are. this is what being 17 is like:

it is 6:15 am, and i have stayed up all night.

i was planning on getting a lot of work done, but instead i wasted time listening to amanda palmer and browsing the internet.

my dad thinks i took my sleeping pill, so i need to stay quiet in my room until at least 10:00 tomorrow morning so he doesn’t get suspicious.

kai called me today, but only for 15 minutes. they are a month behind in school, and will only get their phone back once they are caught up. i don’t know when that will be, but i am preparing for the worst.

i identify as androgyne, meaning in between man and woman. recently, i stopped feeling like i was faking, though. instead of worrying that i was making it all up in my head, i’ve become confident that i am Androgyne. it makes sense. it always has made sense. when i was little, i asked my father if it was possible to be “half-girl, half-boy,” and i would tell people that about myself. just because i like glitter and riot grrrl doesn’t make me a girl. i am an enby.

this is the song of the night:

i realized today that i have not left the house (excepting switching between mother’s/father’s) in an entire month. at the beginning of this lockdown, i was struggling, but i feel like i’ve adjusted more or less. this feels normal, now. i don’t feel like i’m missing something from my daily life.

10 days clean :)

my sleep schedule is fucked up. dr. kissam has put me on a mood stabilizer, an antidepressant, and a sleep medicine as well as my anxiety meds because she’s concerned by my bipolar tendencies. my manic phases have gotten more intense and happen more often now, and my down phases have gotten worse than they have in a long time. i started hurting again, but i’m trying to stop. i think i have a handle on it now. i did give myself two stick and pokes on monday night, though... does that count? i don’t think so.

i have the deathly hallows on my ankle, and the androgyne symbol on my left middle finger. it looks more like an anchor or a dandelion though. :/ i like them anyways, because they are Mine. My body. My decisions. I Am My Own Person.

during the call today, i felt like kai was distancing themself from me. i don’t know if i’m overthinking a 15 minute chat, but they didn’t seem like their usual clingy, lovey self. i’m worried that they’re going to decide they don’t want to be with me anymore during this time that they are off their phone, but i know that it’s just anxiety. overthinking is my enemy. kai loves me. i love them. we are in a healthy, stable relationship (for the first time in my life!!). they aren’t going to decide to leave me out of the blue.

the song for the kai situation:

sometimes i wonder what life would be like if i could just focus on school like a normal person. i have good grades, but i am a Very Chaotic student. if i could just sit down and complete assignments at a normal pace and with consistent motivation, what would i be able to achieve? would i be in a bunch of service organizations? would i be on student council? who knows?! i am darcy, and i am tied for valedictorian while never doing my homework. i don’t know how i do it either.

i’ve decided that i don’t like my confirmation name (octavian) as my middle name. i want to take my dad’s middle name, lamont. darcy lamont wheeler. it’s a super cool name, and it has Significance. our family is directly descended from the lamont clan in scotland. it’s also my grandmother’s maiden name, which i feel like makes sense because my dead middle name was her middle name. poetic justice. symmetry. i have come full circle.

hi! my name is darcy lamont wheeler.

darcy means “dark one.” i really, really like that. i like thinking that i am connected to the somewhat dark and eccentric. like the dresden dolls, or disturbing short stories. darkness adds complexity. nuance. background.

my favorite short story is ���i have no mouth & i must scream” by harlan ellison. it is so completely terrifying, so beautifully disgusting, so brilliantly bizarre, so disturbingly ominous, and i have never read anything else that has come close to comparing. i love science fiction, especially dystopian ideas about technology advancing past the point of no return. it’s crazy to me that what could be considered mankind’s greatest achievement is so close to being our downfall.

everybody is awake now, and i hear them in the kitchen. i wonder when i stopped wanting to be awake. matthew and brianna seem to wake up as early as they can and fight bedtime until the absolute limit, as if they want to maximize the hours that they have each day. each morning is a new chance for fun. they don’t seem to resent life yet. i would rather be asleep instead of conscious most of the time. days are uniformly boring and miserable, with the rare diversion. why would i want them to be longer than they have to be? is this depression or is this just growing up? i can’t even tell anymore.

i missed amanda palmer’s birthday livestream yesterday, so i’m going to watch it today. two hours of her and her quarantine buddies sounds like heaven. this woman’s music quite honestly saved my life, and she is the epitome of badass!! i love amanda palmer. i wish i could write songs like she can.

on the topic of the dresden dolls, i asked brian viglione, the drummer, to “prom” as a pretense to ask him about his experiences as a musician, and for advice about how to develop my music. against all the odds, he accepted, so now, on may 9th at 8:00 pm, i am going to facetime with Brian Viglione, drummer for the dresden dolls and the violent femmes, among many others. life? made. i still can barely believe that this is actually happening!!

i came out to my english class, including ms. blaylock on tuesday. everybody reacted really well, and in that class at least, i get to go by my name and use my pronouns. i honestly couldn’t believe that i had the balls to tell anybody besides kai’s family, but i did, and it actually went well! the fact that there are people calling me darcy makes me so happy that i can’t even put it into words. it’s validating. i am darcy. not just when i’m by myself, but in real life. i am darcy.

is it weird that i’m not crippled by kai’s absence? i used to be an unproductive tangle of anxiety whenever mary was out of touch, even for a few hours. i was constantly worried that she was going to hurt herself, or that she was going to leave me. the thing is, even though i am in love with kai and i only thought that i loved mary because she was the first girl i was with, i don’t miss them to the point that i can’t function. i don’t think about them 24/7. i do miss them at times, and i cannot wait until we can talk again, but it’s not an all-consuming thing. i can go through my entire day without talking to them, no problem. night time is a little harder, but that’s because night is always when i go down spirals and rabbitholes. maybe this means that our relationship is healthy? co-dependency is a bad thing, i know, but i don’t know what a healthy relationship feels like since the only other experiences i’ve had (jack, mary, saanchi, rachel) have all been toxic in their own way.

one thing i have learned with kai is the importance of boundaries in a relationship. just because i love everything about them doesn’t mean that it’s healthy for us to share everything. there was a time where we were both in dark places and hurting, and when they shared what they did, it would set me off. the same went for them, i was using them as a journal too often, and the emotional burden had started to affect them. we had a conversation about this though, and established clear lines that we will not cross. it felt good to figure that out. i felt mature, looking out for my own needs and respecting kai’s. isn’t that how a relationship should work?

i love kai.

i’ve written a SHIT-TON. i think this is enough for now, but i might write another letter today. this was cathartic, and i feel like i’ve processed some shit as well as made a record for the future. i hope you weren’t bored or overwhelmed by my novel, darcy. i’m just writing what i feel is important, and i hope it’s still important to you.

signing off,

darcy lamont wheeler

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

Struck with a sudden major desire to write stuff for the Bullshit Defense AU even though that’s not my NaNo project, but I’m mitigating that somewhat by rereading and releasing into the wild this technically-finished piece that at the time I wasn’t quite happy enough with it to post, but now I’m just like, sure, here you go. I like it more than I don’t, so up it goes.

---

Miles texts her when the jury reaches its verdict on Vera Misham: Not Guilty. Franziska thanks him for telling her and ignores further attempts to engage her in conversation, returning to work that seems suddenly less important than the prospect of overhauling their entire legal system, putting an end to the madness that has plagued her entire lifetime. She could have consulted on this project, on the committee, had the offer, and refused, recommending Simon instead. He refused, also; the phantom is the only thing with his undivided attention, as much now as six years ago. She had guessed that would happen but still thought that he would be a better prosecutorial consultant than her, she who can barely connect to people and has no idea what should go into the selection and mechanics of a jury, versus he who has made his bones on cracking open the heads of everyone he ever crosses paths with.

Mia texts her later, telling her where they “all” – who is all? All of the defense attorneys in the family? All of the lawyers in the Edgeworth-Fey family but Franziska? – have gathered to discuss the trial and the system. Her father’s office – no, Ray’s now, Ray’s since her father’s retirement – is the biggest of all of them, the best place for going on ten people to have a rousing debate. She’s curious what happened in the trial, too curious, and finally by four she gives in and packs up for the day. Sebastian is in his office when she swings by, telling him she is leaving; he asks her if she has seen Gavin. She hasn’t, wonders if he just didn’t come back after the trial, but his car is parked a few spots down from hers in the garage. In hiding, then? For the loss, or something worse?

The Justice-Shields Law Office on the window still takes her by surprise. She was never even used to seeing Shields Law Office before it changed, again, and she won’t admit it to Ray but he was right and that is very much a badass name for a law firm. 

The conversation hits her before the door is halfway open, and then when it is closed behind her, a pen hits her, flung loose from Lana’s hand while she was gesturing and yelling at Diego. He probably deserves it. Miles steps in, on Lana’s side, and Mia tosses them all a Look before she resumes talking to Ray. Trucy is bouncing around all of them; Gregory and Phoenix are off to the side, deep in conversation, both wearing deeply serious expressions. Apollo is perched on the couch closest to the door, looking dazed. Franziska sits next to him.

“You should see our full family dinners,” she says. “Louder, and so many more flying objects, but just as much legal debate.”

“How much more family do you have?” Apollo asks. “I thought mine was chaotic, and it’s just six of us.”

“This is only half,” Franziska says. Apollo swears under his breath, a word or language she doesn’t recognize. “Just the lawyers.” And ex-lawyers: one retired (sort of, mostly), two stripped of their badges. 

They sit there in silence for a while, listening to the conversation that bounces about the office, over to them. Lana, with her jaw set, is speculating on what she thinks about the ability of prosecutors to adapt to or accept the new system. She might be a decade removed from the office, but not much about it has changed. Franziska is glad to have Simon and Sebastian on her side for the uphill battle that it will be. Miles, listening and saying nothing, keeps glancing over at Franziska. Mia is wrestling another cup of coffee out of Diego’s hands. 

“Aren’t you a prosecutor?” Apollo asks. Franziska nods. “I was surprised that Mr Wright didn’t pick you for the trial – at first anyway. Then it made sense that he got Prosecutor Gavin, but…”

“Phoenix Wright and I are not on good terms,” Franziska says, stiffer than she meant to, but there are no good ways to say any of this. “Not at this time.”

Apollo suddenly looks like he regrets asking. “Oh.”

“I haven’t heard the details of the case,” Franziska says. She might not be good with people but even she can tell that Apollo is eager for a conversational redirect and has no idea what to do. “I am surprised that he requested Klavier Gavin for the case, as well.”

So Apollo explains a story seven years old, and it seems to her a final nail in the coffin that she learns Phoenix’s story from someone who is not him. Seven years that he could have sought help, seven years of isolating himself – now he has burned that bridge and Franziska is happy to leave it broken.

No. Not happy. But what else is there to do?

She is about to stand, maybe leave, maybe talk to Miles, when Trucy comes over, and without greeting or preamble, her smile falling off her face, flings herself onto the couch next to Franziska, leaning her head against her shoulder. Franziska leans back. Now she is stuck.

She lingers for a few hours, speaking with whoever comes over to her, Trucy, and Apollo. Phoenix is not one of them. An email from Simon finally jars her back to the reality of the work she is neglecting, and she gently nudges Trucy off her shoulder. Phoenix calls out to her as she is leaving, but she lets the door swing closed behind her and starts down the stairs.

“Franziska!”

She doesn’t stop until she is at the bottom of the stairs and she turns, waiting for Phoenix to hurry down after her. “Franziska, wait.”

They haven’t spoken face-to-face, the two of them, since that day in April in the defendant lobby. She raises her chin and stares him down, unwilling to extend a hand or a single word until he does first.

“Would your father be proud of this?” he asks. He sounds bitter, spiteful, the way he has come to sound more and more as the years without his badge wore on. She is almost grateful for that; she doesn’t have to feel bad about what she said, not when he is bringing it back up with an edge as sharp as hers was.

“Of course not,” she snaps back. “He is like Kristoph Gavin – a superiority complex and a desperate need for control over the course of a trial. He will be disgusted to hear of this Jurist System.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Franziska agrees. “But, if he knew, my father” – she tilts her chin up toward the office at the top of the stairs – “knew, he would not be so proud of this.”

There. That shames him, his eyes falling toward the ground, head ducking just slightly. “Gregory Edgeworth would be ashamed of you if he knew,” she snarls, like a wolf who has seen the throat of its prey and will only tear in deeper with that opening. “Mia Fey would be. All of them.”

“Then tell them,” Phoenix says, and if her eyes were closed when she heard him speak those words, it would sound like a defiant challenge – but he has not looked at her. His stare is haunted, fixed on the wall. “Then go ahead and tell them. Why haven’t you?”

For Miles, she thinks, for Miles, because he loves you. But that is not the answer, maybe the barest part of it – the reason she has forgiven Miles for forgiving him – that cannot explain why it is still a raw open wound in her chest while she stands here. “Because I have no wish to hurt them,” she answers. “Not the way you hurt me and my brother both.”

At that, he looks at her, and raises one eyebrow, doubtfully. “You?” he asks.

Does he doubt that? Does he doubt that her anger was not multifaceted, twisted together with pain? Does he not think that she loves him, has always, at times more than she loved her own stubborn, frustrating brother? The words feel less like she is spitting them and more that they are torn from her. “I believed in you,” she snarls, in a way that is both whisper and scream from a raw, mangled throat. “I believed in you, always! From when we were children, from when you decided that the future you wanted was to wear that badge--!” She jabs a finger into his chest, where the badge should be though it has been lost longer than he ever had it, the ghost of something gold. “From when you lost it, I believed in you! I believed that you would never – I defended you! Against every word in the Prosecutors Office, I argued for you, I defended you, I spent weeks working to convince Sebastian, Simon, that I knew you and you would never, ever, ever do – I knew you and you never could--!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” he says, frustratingly blasé, and her mind is still catching up to that by the time she has slapped him, purely instinct driving her, the way she didn’t in April because she had words that could cut him deeper.

“You could have asked me for help! Any of us would have, but I – I would have dropped everything! If you had just asked, you fool!”

Simon asked, eventually, despite the danger, and Franziska did not hesitate. She would not have hesitated for Phoenix, not for anything, nothing more important, not for the world. 

“I know,” he says. “And that’s why I didn’t.”

He holds up an arm to block her slap this time. “You could not have known what Kristoph Gavin was! Not then! That he was willing to murder a child to keep his secrets! You had no reason to be afraid!”

“I didn’t have evidence, no,” he says, “but I was.”

“And I have worked more dangerous cases than that of Kristoph Gavin,” she snaps. Is working, now. “I am not afraid for my life, for the sake of the truth!”

“It doesn’t matter now,” he says.

“It does! It will always matter! Your crime does not go away! Not when you fall to the level of my father, of Damon Gant, of the corruption I have sworn to stand against! I cannot compromise, not for anyone, not even for you, Phoenix Wright, because I--”

– could easily become that. Wouldn’t it be so easy to fall, so much simpler – if she knows of guilt then why fight for every half-relevant shred of evidence when she could just create it? Wouldn’t it be easy to think herself perfect, self-righteous, the sole arbitrator –

Because I am afraid to become what my name bids me to be. What others think me because of that legacy.

She’s crying now, hadn’t realized she was close to doing that until she feels the first tears sliding down her cheeks, watches Phoenix’s face fall. “Do not look at me with that pity, Phoenix Wright! I don’t need that from you – do not pretend that you are sorry for what you have done!”

“I’m sorry there wasn’t another way,” he says. “But now there is, and that’s what I wanted to do. Make sure that doesn’t happen again. Make sure no one is backed into the corner I was.”

“There was another way for you!” she screams. “There always was! I believed in you! My entire life, I was sure! And you – you disappointed me! I was wrong about you!”

And he didn’t even kill anyone. She wonders how close the Gavin brothers were, once, before seven long years – she wonders if what she is feeling is just a fraction of Klavier’s pain.

Thinking about him just unsettles her more.

“Franziska, I--” Phoenix stops. He presses a hand to his eyes. “No, you’re right. What am I supposed to say?”

“That you’re a fool.” She wipes her cheeks dry. “You’re a foolish fool.”

“Yeah, I am. Right as ever.”

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“This – this agreement! This not fighting!”

“You want me to yell back at you?”

“Yes! Then perhaps I could hate you! Then I could just be angry that you are a fool instead of just – sad. Sad that you are – this now!”

She can’t hate him; she could never, not Phoenix, who she has known for as long as she has known her brother and her father; who she has spent a lifetime more time with than the father who gave her her name. But she does want to. She wants to very much.

“Fran?”

She doesn’t look back at him.

“Are you going to start coming to family dinners again? Trucy misses seeing you – Miles does too.”

They didn’t talk about Zak – Franziska wasn’t going to bring it up if Trucy didn’t – but she doesn’t doubt that her niece will want to talk about it someday. And their situations might not be identical – Franziska was too young when she was adopted – but she thinks she, of anyone, can understand the conflict best.

Families are difficult things.

“I might,” she says. “For Trucy’s sake.”

-

Gavin’s car is already in the lot when Franziska arrives in the morning, but around noon Sebastian comes by her office to ask again if she has seen him, because he isn’t responding to any knocking on his door. “He might not want to speak with you, or anyone,” she says, then dragging him into her office to give him the abridged summary of what happened in the trial with Gavin’s brother.

“I mean, he still doesn’t have to avoid me,” Sebastian says, looking more worried than ever, fidgeting with a pen he plucked off Franziska’s desk. “He was already working here as well when – my father – he knows that I know that…”

That he is not to blame for the sins of a man whose name and blood he shares. There are three of them in that club, now.

She doesn’t try and seek out Gavin because she knows she will be less welcome than Sebastian, has made herself less welcome. Later in the afternoon she is taking the stairs back up to her office, absorbed in a memo, when suddenly there is someone else in front of her, who she nearly runs into. He springs out of the way and she manages to process who it is who is using the stairwells in which Franziska almost never sees anyone else.

“Frau von Karma.”

Professional conduct be damned, she had nearly slapped him the first – and only – time he called her Fraülein. He learned his lesson quickly. “Prosecutor Gavin. Sebastian Debeste has been looking for you. He wished to speak to you about the Jurist System.”

Gavin’s expression betrays nothing. He has as good of a poker face as Phoenix does, as his brother did. “Ja. I will keep that in mind.” Beneath his eyes are shadows of exhaustion, the kind that she sees often on Miles or Phoenix. Again she wonders how close he and Kristoph were – and even before, several months ago, there was his bandmate, the detective. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

He presses up against the wall and sidles past her; she nearly lets him go, but something is still eating away at her. I didn’t ask you to do that. “Prosecutor Gavin, wait,” she says.

Looking down at him, she remembers herself and Phoenix, yesterday, a different stairwell at a different office, and a conversation about the same things in the way. The same ghosts linger on all of their shoulders. She hasn’t thought far enough ahead to know what to say. “I… am sorry about your brother.”

He closes his eyes, his shoulders hitching up with a sharp breath. “Frau von Karma,” he says, “I know you don’t like me, and I have made my peace with that. You don’t have to pretend any sympathy. It demeans us both to pretend, ja?”

His smile is gut-wrenchingly sad.

She was wrong. God, was she wrong.

“I…” It is easier to admit it to herself than to speak the sentiment into being. It always has been with anything soft. “I was mistaken,” she says. “In my assessment of you. I thought your brother’s crime was yours, and I – that was incorrect.”

His mouth twists. Is it her failure to properly apologize that is the problem? The words have dried up in her throat, even thinking of how her father, and Ray, and all of them would be proud of her if she can manage to admit wrongdoing, how Phoenix always frowned at the rancor she directed at Klavier Gavin, never joining in, often telling her to lay off him, Fran; there’s nothing to suggest that he did anything wrong.

Not him, but the other. How long did Phoenix know? “I was mistaken,” she repeats. The proper words have died again on her tongue. “And while I cannot say that I understand fully what it is you have gone through, I do know – somewhat, at a lesser amount, what it is to think you know someone and have them let you down. And what it is to be judged on the crimes of another who shares your name.”

He is still silent, looking at her with those sad, tired eyes, like a kicked dog. “That is all,” she says, and it’s not, it’s not, not when Apollo and Ray both clearly think highly of him as a prosecutor, not when she has not uttered I am sorry, not when the matter of Phoenix hangs on her like a shroud. She hated him, for her belief in Phoenix, that he could not be capable of the crime accused – and he proved himself capable of it, and Gavin proved himself honest.

She is almost turned back up the stairs to leave, cursing her own stubborn foolish pride that turns her tongue to lead, she has fought and clawed her way into her position and she cannot admit that she has been so wrong to another much like herself, when he speaks. His voice is nothing more than a murmur, barely audible over the clack of her heels on the steps. “Danke, Frau von Karma.”

“Guten Tag, Herr Gavin,�� she says, and she stands there with her back turned until she has heard him leave.

[the-bounce-back]

26 LIFE LESSONS LEARNT IN 26 YEARS

So… ya girl turned 26 back in May. I had originally planned to post this the day after my birthday for maximum dramatics and symbolism, but here we are.

Yes, I am painfully aware that my birthday was over 4 months ago now, and yes, I have already been dragged to the moon and back by both myself and my friends for not finishing the post on time (it’s been chilling in my drafts since, like, late April)… so face your front and mind your business.

All jokes aside, these past months have been insanely chaotic for us all on both a personal level and global scale. Everyone and everything seems to have gone mad. A whole pandemic… having to literally fight for equal rights and justice in 2020... having to watch world leaders single-handedly destroy the countries that they themselves campaigned to govern... and on top of that, being forced to stay indoors and not being able to do whatever you want?! Sh*t, I’m even surprised that myself or anyone I know hasn’t been sectioned yet. This whole year needs to be put in rice, immediately.

I can’t lie, watching everything unfold these past few months - while struggling to come up with ways to entertain myself because of the constant negative news and energy drifting round and stifling my creativity - has had a massive toll on my mental health. Although my coping skills have become a lot better over the years, how in the hell was I (or any of us) meant to prepare for a year of constant chaos, death  and revolt? No one could’ve seen it coming, and that’s why these circumstances have made me feel like my mental health has been dropkicked in the throat. We’re not built to be cooped up at home for so long, and we’re definitely not built to have to consume heartbreaking and traumatising media on a daily basis. No wonder so many people have been feeling like they’ve lost the plot.

On top of that, I’ve also been dealing with a lot of other things - because when it rains, it pours. Not being able to distract myself by doing fun stuff because of Corona has somehow given my subconscious the confidence to go absolutely apesh*t. This, in the sense that a lot of past situations I’ve forced myself to suppress over the years to be able to just function like a normal(ish) human being have managed to claw their way to the surface and demand my attention like a bunch of spoilt and crying toddlers. To put it in the least dramatic way possible, these feelings and memories have been killing my ~*vibe*~... like, a lot. Ya girl’s been going through it. It’s been particularly hard because I promised myself at the beginning of the year to work harder on not obsessing so much over past situations that I have no control over, but due to the circumstances I’ve forced myself to give myself a break and take each thought as it comes.

Yes, this is all very depressing - but despite everything, there have also been a lot of silver linings of this lockdown. Besides day drinking, chick flick marathons and chatting sh*t on facetime 24/7, having all this time to focus on my mental and spiritual health has definitely taught me a lot about myself. I genuinely feel positive and like this time of my life is needed to be able to grow and evolve when I’m not in that negative state of mind. These experiences coming back to the surface and demanding to be felt and dealt with may be hella exhausting, but I’ve definitely done this enough now to know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and that one day I’ll be able to fully make sense of it and fully heal.  And when I finally have gotten to that stage, I will definitely write a few posts about it - because no one should feel like they have to deal with this level of headf*ckery alone.

Anyways, there you have it - another long-ass excuse for my lack of productivity. But hey, at least it’s valid. 

Enough with all the dark sh*t - we have more than enough time to revisit that and other fun stuff in another post, don’t worry! Instead, let’s pretend that it’s still the day after my birthday, that I am editing this with a hangover while stuffing my face with leftover cake, that I am indeed capable of keeping personal deadlines and that I haven’t been AWOL for over a quarter of a year. Keep on reading for 26 big and small life lessons I’ve learnt along the way in this dunya, in no particular order. It’s going to be a very long one (tip: scroll and find the ones that resonate the most with you), so get cozy, put the kettle on and get some snacks or whatever. 

1. You are still young - do not compare your journey to other’s.

Okay, so I’m definitely projecting with this one. When I turned 25 last year I had a bit (a lot) of a minor (major) existential crisis because I was very far from where I had always expected to be at 25 years old. Career-wise, fitness-wise, finance-wise and relationship-wise I just felt like a massive failure, and like from that moment on life would just go downhill. I made the mistake of comparing myself to my agemates and people younger than me, and seeing other people’s success when my own life was a mess didn’t exactly make it better.

For this year - despite me now being on the wRoNg side of 25 - I feel very calm and even happy about getting older, simply because I realised that my time will come and that everyone's journey is different. For this reason, comparing your progress to other’s doesn’t even make sense and just puts a load of unnecessary pressure on yourself. Be patient - all the work you’re putting in now will pay off soon.

2. Take time to reconnect with your ~*inner child*~.

I know, I know - it all sounds awfully hippy-dippy, but hear me out. In short, your inner child refers to the subpersonality that still feels, thinks and reacts as you did when you were younger, and reconnecting with that childlike aspect of yourself can be beneficial to your mental wellbeing and psyche for many different reasons. 

The main reasons I have focused on reconnecting with my inner child in the past couple of years have been for a) learning how to tap into that creative, free and spontaneous nature I had as a kid before life got in the way; b) to heal wounds that occurred in my childhood that are still holding me back, and c) to reparent my inner child by unlearning toxic mindsets and behaviours that have had a negative impact on my life. 

In terms of creativity, I remembered how much I used to love drawing and writing as a child, and returning to these passions as an adult has had such a massively positive impact on my mental health in ways that I can’t even begin to describe. Doing activities you used to love as a kid should really be considered acts of self-care, because the childlike joy and excitement that comes from it? Absolutely bladdy priceless.

Then there’s the dark and mildly traumatising side of reconnecting with your inner child. Revisiting and analysing what can be very emotionally painful memories is never going to be a delightful task - but trust me when I say that you have to push through it, regardless of how long it takes. There aren’t any shortcuts or detours involved when trying to heal a wounded inner child, so make sure that you are patient with yourself and take the time you need to heal.

All in all - regardless of if you’re trying to get your creativity flowing, trying to enjoy life more in general or trying to unpack almost a couple decades worth of trauma (my personal favourite!), setting aside some time to really reflect and remember your thoughts and feelings from way back then really does help make sense of your thoughts and feelings as an adult. I’ll even bet money that every single insecurity and doubt you may have about yourself can be traced back to something that happened during your childhood - which is why reconnecting with yourself at that age is imperative if you want to truly heal.

3. Be confident about your creative projects.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learnt in life so far is definitely understanding the fine line between confidence and arrogance. I can only really speak for myself - although I know that a lot of women can relate - but I was raised to be humble about a lot of my accomplishments. It got to the point where even the slightest self-acknowledgement of my talents made me feel like I was being arrogant, attention seeking and braggy, so for a long time I kept a lot of W’s and my pride in my work to myself. However, this is one of the aforementioned toxic mindsets that I’m currently working on unlearning - because if I don’t hype up myself and my talents, who will?

After speaking to friends about similar topics I get the impression that this reluctance to hype up our own creativity goes - in many cases - way back to a time during which we might not have had our creativity appreciated and validated as children. For me, this makes a lot of sense because I was extremely creative and had a very vivid imagination as a child, but I think somewhere along the way it got stifled by the pressure of making certain family members (who thought anything remotely right-brain stimulating was a waste of time) proud. 

Anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore. Now that I’ve realised that my creative vision is a blessing, and that being confident in the quality of my work has nothing to do with being arrogant, you best believe that I will self-validate every single project I complete, and I hope you will do the same.

4. Love and take care of your body.

I mean this from both a body-image and health point of view. I spent way too many years of my life hating my body and hating looking different to literally everyone around me, and I’d be lying if I said that realising how damaging this self-hatred was doesn’t get me in my feelings from time to time. However, I have been able to get out of this mindset - for the most part - and can now appreciate that my body is beautiful, and that the perfect body I was always striving towards doesn’t even exist.

With that being said, it is important to remember that loving your body goes beyond self-acceptance... It also entails taking care of it through exercise and healthy eating. 

I know, it sucks. I don’t make the rules.

I’ve definitely been struggling with being healthy during my 20s - partially due to my sweet tooth and partially due to comfort eating and other unhealthy coping methods when my mental health was at its worst. As expected, my initial reaction to the weight gain was piling even more self-hate and pressure onto myself, when I really should have been kinder and more understanding to myself during that time. I should have used exercise and healthy eating as a coping mechanism to get better, instead of forcing myself to lose weight in a harmful manner due to feelings of disgust for my body.

CoUlD’Ve, WoUlD’Ve, ShOuLd’Ve… Sigh. Hindsight really is 20/20. What’s important is that it’s never too late to start the self-love journey, and that your body is beautiful regardless of the form it currently happens to be in.

5. Know how to communicate effectively.

That is, with people who are genuinely worth your time and energy. No matter how good of a person you are, there will always be people that seem to be entirely committed to misunderstanding you, twisting your words and trying to make you out to be a bad person. Hell, you might even be that person in someone else’s life... whether you realise it or not (I reckon I probably am). Trying to communicate with someone that has no desire or intention of getting to a level of understanding with you is literally the most frustrating and draining task ever - which is why I no longer do it if I don’t have to. There’s literally no point, and I’m just exerting energy over someone that is probably enjoying the conflict - so why bother?

With that being said, learning how to respectfully disagree, give constructive criticism, set boundaries, resolve conflict, listen to and g-check the people that you do genuinely want in your life becomes more and more important with age. I’m definitely guilty of leaving things unsaid or unresolved in the past - due to fear of offending/losing friends that meant a lot to me at the time - but we’re aDuLtS now, guys. If we can’t talk without constantly having to sugarcoat things, are we even really friends?

The answer is definitely a resounding ‘no’ from me, and since adopting this mindset - along with knowing when to distance myself from people that are literal energy vampires - my life has been a lot more peaceful. 11/10, would recommend.

6. Eliminate fear of failure.

Obviously, no one wants to fail at anything. But I’ve genuinely found that my biggest L’s in life have been the most character building and taught me the biggest life lessons. Although it might be hard to see how the situation is making you evolve when you’re neck deep in the sh*t, once you get into the mindset that failing is a learning opportunity,  you’ll see that your ego won’t be as wounded when things don’t work out the way you wanted them to.

Again, I can only speak for myself, but I feel like many of us with immense fears of failing at something were probably raised in environments in which failure was not an option and often followed by some kind of negative reaction (e.g. undermining of intelligence, disappointment, verbal abuse etc). I think that constantly associating failure with this kind of shame has made us terrified of making perfectly human mistakes. Mistakes that we wouldn’t pay any mind to if someone else were making, but that we beat ourselves up over -  just because it’s us.

Or maybe that’s just me. I don’t know, man. Regardless, teaching myself that failure and making mistakes is okay and part of the process has made me feel a lot more secure in myself and my capabilities - simply because I now know that there aren’t any mistakes that are unfixable and it’s never that deep. At the end of the day, as long as I know in my soul that I’ve done my best, there’s really no need for negative self-talk.

7. Pick your battles.

I.e. don’t sweat the small stuff. It’s so wild to me that a couple short years ago I would let every minor inconvenience, disagreement and disappointment caused by others really get to me and ruin my day. Nowadays I have gotten so good at simply removing myself from situations and people that just bring negativity into my life, because honestly? The stress isn’t worth it. Life is so much more peaceful when you refuse to give energy to negativity and toxic/inconsistent people, and once I got past the feelings of guilt for not being so available to everyone it really became one of the best choices I ever made.

8. Be kind.

This one is a cliche and a no-brainer, but still very imperative. Remembering that literally everyone has their own sh*t going on - regardless of if they speak on it or not - is extremely important, especially in terms of us interacting with each other. Being kind, sensitive and respectful to others literally costs nothing, and positive energy has a tendency to be contagious.

Obviously (for me at least), this becomes a slightly different story when the person involved constantly allows whatever they are going through to affect the way they interact with you. Things like lashing out, self-isolation and self-destructive behaviours are all tell-tale signs that the issue isn’t with you and that you shouldn’t take it personally, but of course everyone has limits to how much they can empathise with these kind of behaviours. As someone that has been on both the receiving and giving end of this kind of behaviour, I’ve found that the best approach for me is to still be kind, but to love and support them from afar - simply because I know that I have a tendency to take things to heart when I’m not even the issue. The bottom line is to try your best to be kind and understanding, but also to know when to distance yourself from toxic behaviours that can end up taking a toll on you.

9. Process your feelings.

I definitely get it. Sometimes life throws sh*t at us that is a lot easier to just push to the back of our minds so we can stay focused on what we have going on at the time. But believe me when I say that whatever feelings you squash, ignore and push past now will come back to haunt you in the future. 

Okay, so this sounds very dramatic and ominous. Your feelings aren’t going to take physical form and beat you up… however, it might feel like this is what is happening. Obviously this differs from person to person, but I’ve found that when I don’t allow myself time to process my feelings as soon as possible after they’ve been triggered, there is a risk of me being re-triggered and snapping again at a later stage - albeit at something wildly unrelated and minor. In other words, small small issues that pile up on top of negative feelings end up becoming the straw that breaks the camel’s back, the drop that spilled the glass, and whatever other corny and related sayings you can think of.

What I’m trying to say is that carrying around the weight of unresolved negative feelings takes a toll on you, no matter how resilient and ~*zen*~ you are. I have no doubt in my mind that carrying past negative feelings, trauma and pain for days, weeks, months and even years has detrimental effects on both your mental and physical health. There is a lot of research to explain this further, and I have also seen these effects on family members, friends and myself when times have been tougher than usual.

With that being said, it might sound like you’re screwed if you’ve gotten to this age and not learnt how to fully feel your feelings. I’ve been feeling that way for about five years now, I reckon. However, it’s never too late to strive for good mental health and to deal with unresolved feelings/trauma - once you get past the fear of being triggered by the bad memories, you soon realise that that’s all they are; they can’t hurt you if you don’t let them.

10. Be ‘selfish’.

So, we’re at that age now where - traditionally speaking - we’re sUpPoSeD to be looking to settle down. Get married, have kids, get a mortgage, be on a set career path… all of that adult stuff that always used to seem so far away, but is now heavily breathing down our necks and killing our vibes. It’s upsetting me and my homegirls, to be honest.

All jokes aside, there is nothing wrong with wanting these things for yourself at this age. However, my point is that millennials/Gen Z (especially women) are put under insane amounts of pressure in their twenties to have all their sh*t together - either by family or just society in general. Meanwhile, many of us are so riddled with anxiety, insecurities, unresolved trauma and lacking a sense of self due to constantly trying to please others and to not be a disappointment to the older generation that we don’t even know which way is up anymore. This is where selfishness comes in.

No, being selfish doesn’t mean to be an inconsiderate d*ck to everyone around you in this context - sorry to disappoint. I mean that it’s important that we take the time to slow down, not be so hard on ourselves and to focus on finding our own path, purpose, dream career etc on our own terms - not to please someone else. Now is the time to unpack your traumas, ~*find yourself*~, and unlearn any destructive mindsets and behaviours you’ve picked up during your childhood and teenage years. Now is the time to learn how to love and accept yourself fully. The way I see it, if you don’t make time for this, a happy, lifelong marriage and strong, healthy relationships with children you bring into the world (if that’s what you want) are a myth - simply because healthy relationships require inner peace. Even if you don’t see yourself going down the ‘traditional life plan’ route, this is still extremely important.

Times are changing; there is nothing wrong with doing certain things later in life if you’re not emotionally, mentally, physically or financially ready to deal with it… no matter what your parents/judgemental aunties/condescending uncles might try to tell you.

11. Take people at face value - not for their potential.

If I got a pound for every single time I’ve told myself this over the years, blatantly ignored it and then ended up getting hurt, I would’ve spent this entire lockdown at an all-inclusive luxury resort on a beach somewhere hot, instead of struggling in a germ-infested London. Honestly. I try not to get mad at myself for this, but it’s very hard not to because it ends up being a cycle that infinitely repeats itself in all my relationships (platonic, non-platonic and family) - leaving me feeling like Boo Boo the Fool for not listening to my intuition.

In my defense, I get myself into these situations because despite coming across as a sarcastic and heartless piece of sh*t sometimes, I genuinely do try to see the best in people and give them a chance to prove themselves as a good and positive influence in my life. This in itself isn’t the problem. The problem is that once I see even a molecule of potential in someone, I very easily latch on to that potential and become Stevie Wonder to the million red flags that pop up over time… and I don’t even realise how disrespected I’ve been until further down the line or long after the situation is over. I reckon that this insistence on riding for people that end up doing me dirty stems from knowing what it feels like to be given up on, or dismissed before even getting to prove myself. It’s a really, really sh*tty feeling, and I think I’m just wired to not want anyone to feel that way because of me.

In other words, my niceness and understanding/accommodating/empathetic qualities might be some of the best things about me - but they really invite sh*tty people to take advantage of me. 

The bottom line is that despite wanting to push people to be their best selves, there really isn’t much you can do unless they want your help. Unfortunately, a lot of people would rather fake a desire to improve themselves instead of just saying that they don’t want help - simply because they enjoy the attention and the energy that they end up leaching from you while you’re worrying about them and their (non-existent) ambitions.It’s literally only recently that I’ve kind of figured out how to combat this, and now I see right through these type of people, and can cut them off with ease. Again - it’s all about protecting your energy, and making sure you only give it to people that are genuinely trying to improve and elevate themselves. You are not a charity - stop allowing useless somebodies to deplete your life force just because their own is clearly not enough to keep them motivated.

12. Be self-aware in a healthy and constructive way.

As you’ve probably gathered from reading this, I am insanely self-aware. I honestly don’t think there is a single negative thing someone could say about me or my character that I am not already trying to work on, or at the very least am aware of. Of course, being so in tune with myself for most of my life used to make me overanalyse everything I said and did - sometimes years after it happened - and I’d be so harsh, mean and critical towards myself for things that weren’t even that deep when I look back on them.

I’m not going to lie, I don’t think there’s a ‘cure’ for overanalysing and overthinking everything. Once you’re aware, it’s very hard to just stop - believe me, I’ve tried. But what I’ve tried my best to do instead is to flip my overthinking into something positive. By this, I mean that when I’m up at 4am and start to deep my whole life and everything I should’ve done differently, I try to focus on what I’ve learnt and how much I’ve grown from the situation, and how much of a better person going through that situation has made me. This is definitely something I’m still working on, since negative thought patterns that have been imposed on you from a young age are very hard to break. But what’s important is that I try, and it has definitely helped me be kinder to myself.

13. Don’t let feelings distract you from your goals.

More projection for ya headtops. Tantalising humans really just pop up out of nowhere when you least expect it sometimes, and when the connection is there it can become dangerously easy to get carried away and lose focus on your own goals. I’ve been very vocal about my opinion about how healthy relationships are meant to elevate and inspire you as opposed to stressing you out and holding you back, so this isn’t exactly anything new to those who have read my blog for a while. 

With that being said… I get it. Meeting someone new is hella exciting - of course you want to make an effort and see how things go. It’s easy for me to come on here and say that you should make sure that you don’t go catching feelings for someone that wouldn’t want you to continue shining and flourishing in your lane while with them, but we all know that a) we can’t help who we fall for, and b) me saying so would make me the hypocrite of the millennium. I’m not sure how or why I manage to attract (and get attracted to) people that I later on down the line realise do more harm to my goals than good… but at least I’ve learnt a lot from those situations, and I’m a lot more picky about who I deem deserving of my time now. 

14. Always make time for #self-care.

There’s not much to explain here besides reminding you that the world and everyone in it is mad, so taking time to yourself and doing something you know will make you feel better during a hard time (or even a simple time, let’s be real)  is crucial in this life.

Get the takeaway. Buy the shoes. Do a cheeky face mask. Have your 3rd bubble bath of the week.

 Life really is too short and too crazy to deny yourself the little pleasures, so do it and do it without any feelings of guilt. If you’re anything like me, I’m confident you’ll think of a reason for why you deserve it - no matter how ridiculous it may be.

15. Get comfortable with being alone with your thoughts.

Okay, so I feel like I’ve discussed this topic to death, so I won’t delve too deep into it here. Instead, I’ll just reiterate that learning how to just sit alone with your thoughts and feelings from time to time - especially at this age - is imperative for your mental health. 

As important as it is to have genuine and supportive friends that you can open up to about your mental, it’s important to remember that there are always abstract thoughts and feelings lurking beneath the surface, that you couldn’t even put into words even if you tried. Regardless of if it’s unresolved feelings, suppressed traumas or an uneasy gut feeling/your intuition, some things just can’t be explained until you’ve been able to figure out where these thoughts are stemming from - and I firmly believe that this “detective work” needs to be done alone to be able to get to the root cause of the thought/feeling. 

It goes without saying that delving deep into yourself to try to figure out what these thoughts/feelings mean can be a very intimidating and triggering task - so I fully understand why a lot of people struggle with facing this alone. To clarify, I am not saying that you shouldn’t turn to friends for support if you need it - I am saying that as great as your friends may be, they can’t read your mind and will never be able to do so. Only you can know for sure exactly what you’re thinking and feeling, and taking time alone to allow yourself to become in tune with your mind and understand yourself on a deeper level is the first step towards being able to put your feelings into words -  and to be able to communicate them to others.

16. Don’t let fear of judgement stop you from doing whatever the hell you want.

This has been a major one for me the past couple of years. As I’m sure you know, regardless of what you do, say, wear or look, there will always be people - sometimes even complete strangers - who will have something snide to say in an attempt to discourage you from trying to do your thing. I’ve mentioned in previous posts how many hairstyle, outfit, blog and creative ideas that I’ve scrapped because of fear of being judged, and I try not to get annoyed with myself for caring so much - because it’s not my fault. I’m sure many of you will relate to being raised in an environment in which you were almost forced to conform to whatever was seen as a rEsPeCtAbLe lifestyle. If you didn’t, you’d be deemed a disruption to the status quo by others… which we were conditioned to believe was a terrible crime. Shock horror.

I’m here to tell you to not give a f*ck about their opinion - because who in the blue hell are they?

After being very concerned about what others think of me for most of my life, finally realising that judgement from others usually stems from their own insecurities, bitterness, jealousy or an otherwise tragic and unfulfilled existence came as a massive breath of fresh air. I even feel sorry for people that feel the need to insert their sh*tty little opinions into things I do, because I don’t even think they realise that it’s falling on deaf ears and blind eyes now. I’ve literally become Helen Keller to the nonsense now, because I don’t have time. And they’re wasting their energy. Poor things. I hope they get some rest soon.

With that being said, it does take time to get to a point of not being phased by judgement. A lot of time - for me, I’d say it’s been a couple of years. I still have a long way to go in regards to not being phased by judgement coming from people whose opinions I still care about too much (i.e.  family members and other people I look up to), but the key for me was definitely baby steps.

17. Learn how to forgive.

As appealing as holding on to everlasting hatred towards someone that did you dirty sounds, trust me when I say that the best thing you can do for yourself in this kind of situation is to forgive them - or at the very least try. Carrying anger, hate and resentment in your heart is extremely emotionally draining, and let’s face it… the person in question is most likely sleeping soundly at night, at peace, snoring, drooling and having happy dreams about living rent-free in your head after all this time.

The thing about forgiveness, I’ve learnt, is that it doesn’t have to mean that suddenly everything is okay again, or that what they did somehow became erased overnight. Absolutely not. Instead, forgiveness has become a tool to give myself closure over a situation, letting myself accept that what happened happened and to reclaim my sanity after being angry about it for a long time. It’s for me and my mental health - not for the person that hurt me.

Additionally, it is important to remember that forgiving someone doesn’t necessarily have to mean that you are now obliged to continue being nice and cordial with the person. If you’re on that level of maturity, honestly… you deserve all the accolades, because I don’t think I could ever do it. For me, most of the time the person in question won’t even know that they’ve been forgiven - and I like it that way. I just wish them the best from afar and keep it pushing once I’ve healed from the situation. Regardless of the choices you make in relation to your own situations, just make sure that you’re doing it for yourself and not out of consideration for the other person.

18. Understand that your ~*purpose(s)*~ may take time to become clear.

Bare in mind, this is coming from someone that still has no idea what the f*ck she wants to do with her life. Honestly, every year around my birthday I try to figure out why I’m even on this planet - and every year I think I have the answer before life comes and humbles me again.

While I’m not particularly interested in getting into existential questions regarding if life even has a purpose, I will say this - just keep doing your thing. Stay in tune with your emotional, spiritual and mental health so you can determine whether or not you feel you’re on the correct path for you. If you’re anything like me, you will feel in your heart when you’re not where you’re meant to be, regardless of if it’s a job, a new activity you’re trying out or even a relationship. If your gut feeling is telling you that something isn’t for you - don’t ignore it. Eventually you should get a fair gist of where you should be going and what you should be doing - even if the actual purpose in itself doesn’t become apparent until much later. 

Or at least, this is what my theory is. As I said, I have no clue. But this is what I’m doing and it’s definitely been working.

19. Don’t feel forced to have a detailed life plan.

Don’t get me wrong here - having goals, plans and aspirations is extremely important. However, having your whole life planned to the minute just isn’t realistic. I have written about how I used to be extremely adamant on being in control of every single situation, and would have a minor (major) breakdown whenever plans changed in a way that I couldn’t affect.

Having a nervy b everytime something doesn’t work out in your favour is obviously a very counterproductive (and hella childish) coping mechanism - if you can even call it that. Nowadays, I just try to stay as open minded and flexible as possible whenever life feels like throwing me one of its cute little curveballs, so I can try my best to adapt to the situation and keep moving forward, as opposed to throwing all my toys out of the pram like a spoilt brat whenever a minor obstacle to my plans presents itself.

What’s more is that having a rigid life plan with hard deadlines for when you should’ve accomplished certain things leads to - in my experience - another unnecessary reason to start criticising yourself, which we at this point know is a waste of time, energy and just bad vibes in general.

Just relax. Honestly. You’re doing great, regardless of if you’re exactly where you want to be or not. 

20. Put yourself first. Always.

I’ve touched on this multiple times in this post already, but I definitely feel like it deserves its own point. I also want to direct this specifically to women - although some of the gems of wisdom I’m about to drop can be applied to men too, I assume. I don’t really care if they don’t though, to be honest - everything else in this world is already for them, so I’m sure reading something that isn’t won’t kill them.

Sis. I know you are exhausted from being strong all the time - yet here you are, still standing and still fighting. For what it’s worth, know that whoever and wherever you are - I am extremely proud of you for constantly picking yourself up and dusting yourself off every time you are mistreated, disrespected and/or taken for granted.

But it shouldn’t be like that.

You may have been taught early in life to always put your own health, happiness, dreams and wellbeing to the side when needed to accommodate and support others - because that’s what women are mEaNt To Do. But this is so inherently f*cked up, wrong and unfair - it genuinely pisses me off whenever I think about it because it literally makes zero sense to me. It reinforces the notion that we only exist to serve, protect, help and satisfy others needs - whether it be in a family setting, at work or in relationships… almost as if we aren’t human beings with feelings.

Yeah… f*ck that. Call it tough love, but I really need you to grow a back bone right now. Too many times have I personally felt/heard about us feeling the need to bend over backwards for people that do nothing to help or protect us from the pains that life can bring, so clearly you need to be there for your own damn self. Think about it - that ex/potential/fwb/mcm that you’ve spent so many sleepless nights obsessing, crying and worrying about, and that you tried so hard to keep satisfied to the point of mental, emotional and physical exhaustion - where are they now? Living rent free in your head and almost definitely not thinking about you.

Yes, I am a little heated. Yes, I am projecting. And yes, if I ever catch you placing a mans needs and feelings over your own, you will catch these hands because clearly you haven’t been listening.

All jokes aside and as cheesy as it sounds - you are a queen, and I need you to step into your power right now. I want so much better for you, and you can’t get better until you fix your priorities. Your focus should always be on protecting your heart and mental/spiritual health - regardless of the situation you find yourself in. It is 100% possible to nurture and care for others without giving up your sense of self and power, so please, please, please find a balance that empowers and benefits you, and you alone. 

21. Learn how to practice detachment.

I have plans to write a post about this in depth in the near future, so I won’t delve too deep into it here. In short, detachment refers to the practice of severing ties to people, feelings and memories that may have meant a lot to you for a long time and had a major impact on your life, but that you now realise are toxic and are holding you back from moving forward and growing as a person. Essentially, it is all about forgiving, forgetting, letting go and moving on from whatever hurt that may still be lingering long after the situation is over - and never bringing it up again.

Sounds great right?

Wrong. Detachment f*cking sucks - but it is extremely important. As I’ve mentioned earlier, I naturally hate giving up on people and I tend to obsessively reflect on past situations. I try to convince myself that all this reflecting and overthinking is helping me heal - which it has, to a certain degree - but the honest truth is that it takes up a lot of time in the present. It’s emotionally exhausting and time consuming. Detachment, on the other hand, basically forces you to not even acknowledge the past pain and hurt someone has caused you, and placing all your focus on the present and the future… so this is naturally a very hard task for me. 

With that being said, it’s pretty obvious that it’s not going to be easy for anybody. Reaching a level of emotional maturity in which you can completely disregard the pain someone that meant a lot to you has caused you really sounded impossible to me at first - especially mixed with the complicated feeling of not wanting to “abandon” the person that hurt you. But I’ve been working on this very hard during the lockdown, and I can confirm that after doing it for a while you begin to realise that the situation's power over you is entirely determined by the importance you attach to it. Once you learn how to remove that importance and your emotions from the equation, you’re one step closer to being able to truly move on.

Anyways. Stay tuned for a post about this because there is a lot to unpack.

22. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

This is another one I struggle with a lot, because who wants to feel like a weak-ass b*tch who can’t manage on her own? Not I, said the cat.

All jokes aside, I think many of us can relate to not wanting to bUrDeN our friends and family with our struggles and problems, simply because we’re now at an age where everyone has their own lives to tend to and figure out. No one wants to feel like they’re being annoying, or feel stupid and paranoid about being judged because they can’t figure their own sh*t out (more projection for ya!). 

I’ve really been working hard to get rid of the notion that asking for help has anything to do with intelligence or capability, but it’s very difficult to do so when you’ve been raised in an environment where admitting that you can’t manage to do something alone was often equated with not trying hard enough, or not being smart enough. Asking for help was seen as a weakness and a last resort, and I’d often feel ashamed to admit that I was struggling with something.

The funny thing is that while I apply all these rules about not burdening/disturbing people with my problems to myself, I’d literally drop everything in a nanosecond to help a friend out if I could. I’ve noticed this a lot with my friends, too - we’re reluctant to ask for help, but always there for each other if needed. This if anything proves that the fear of being judged/annoying is all in our heads, and that we should be kind enough to ourselves to allow ourselves to be helped from time to time. Yes, everyone wants to be that superwoman/man that has all their sh*t together - but the reality is that we are all human, and life can be very brutal at times. Surrounding yourself with people that care about you and want to see you win is key - and although allowing yourself to lean on someone else from time to time might take a little (a lot) of pride-swallowing, I promise that you will feel better once you’ve shared the load of your problems.

23. Don’t let past experiences poison current friendships.

This is quite possibly the biggest challenge for me right now, and I’m literally only just beginning to get better at this. I’ve mentioned multiple times that my overly empathetic and accommodating personality has attracted a lot of sh*tty “friends” over the years, and for the longest time I blamed myself and thought there was something wrong with me for constantly allowing people to treat me so poorly. As a result of this, I developed hella trust and abandonment issues.

I genuinely didn’t even realise how much these experiences had f*cked me up until I started taking my mental health seriously, and realised how much I had closed myself off emotionally to protect myself. I also realised that I - very unfairly - projected my trust issues onto people in my life that have done nothing but be kind and caring towards me, simply because I allowed myself to be so blinded by the past and assumed that they would do me the same way. I’m honestly just grateful that my closest friends could see through the front I put up and didn’t give up on me, because whew… they really didn’t need to.

The point I’m trying to make is that while it’s very natural to be afraid of being hurt, betrayed and disappointed again, you can’t live your life thinking that everyone is against you - simply because it isn’t true. Yes, it’s very hard to rebuild your trust and confidence in people again... but going through life being paranoid that everyone is against you is just setting yourself up for loneliness and bitterness, and we don’t want that. Again, what’s worked best for me here is working on detachment from the past, and learning to not feed into the feelings of paranoia that arise from time to time. It will take time, but you definitely owe it to yourself to allow good people into your life properly.

24. Step out of your comfort zone more often and just have fun.

Let me be very clear and say that I’m not encouraging anyone to jump out of an airplane - although that would definitely be a massive step outside of anyone's comfort zone. But what’s life without a little thrill? 

Regardless of if it’s as extreme as launching yourself off a cliff and placing all your trust in a flimsy elastic band, or as simple as just trying a new activity or restaurant, life becomes so much richer and more fun when you do something you wouldn’t normally do. It genuinely nourishes and stimulates your right brain - which for me is a much welcomed break from life having to be so f*cking serious all the time. 

It also boosts your confidence to try even more new things, and that’s when life starts to get a bit more interesting. Live it up, b*tch!

25. Make happiness your priority.

Right, so I appreciate that not everyone will agree with this - and that’s okay. You’re entitled to your wrong opinion. I’ve been very open about the mental health struggles I’ve had since my teens, and about the various unhealthy coping methods I’ve tried to deal with it. However, I’ve found that the best way of coping is very simple:

Just do what makes you happy.

Honestly, it’s that easy. A lot of people - myself in the past included - feel a lot of pressure to give their life meaning and purpose by using something outside of themselves to define them as a person. When I was younger that thing was sports, and after uni I thought I’d find happiness from pursuing the career I thought that I wanted. However, I realised a couple years ago that attaching the concept of happiness to an external factor will constantly just make you feel like it’s just beyond your reach - and when you finally reach the goal that you swore would make your life happy and fulfilled, you’re just left with an underwhelming feeling of “...is this it? Surely there must be more to life than this?”

For this reason, I wholeheartedly believe that true happiness stems from inner peace, accepting the past and simply just pursuing things in life that sits right with your mental health and spirit. Building happiness from within sets you up to be confident that you will be fine no matter what life throws at you, and will make you truly unf*ckwithable. 

With that being said, I fully understand how it can be easy to equate our obsession with reaching career/life/relationship/fitness/etc goals to happiness, but let’s say for argument's sake that you do reach every single of your goals that you think will bring you joy. When the pride and elation of accomplishing these goals wears off, are you genuinely happy? Or do you realise that your inner battles are still there, and that the part of your brain that was so focused on accomplishing this goal now just feels… empty and idle?

Okay, so that got a little depressing - but these are questions that I highly recommend you ask yourself. Chances are that you realise that while having goals and ambitions are important, they’re all air if you’re not genuinely happy on the inside. 

If there was a one-size-fits-all path to happiness, I would share it here. But unfortunately, the path to happiness is highly personal - only you can determine what will bring you inner peace and alignment. Personally, I started with reconnecting with my childhood self to remind myself what made me feel happy before life started getting serious, and went from there - maybe that could work for you, too.

26. Understand that everything will fall into place at the time it’s meant to.

I put this one at the end because I feel that it summarises all points very nice-like. It’s extremely easy to get caught up in how you think life is supposed to be like at this age, and even easier to fall into a depressed state when you deep how far away from this ideal you might be. As someone that has had the importance of an established career, rigid life goals and living up to others’ expectations rammed down my throat at a young age, I’ve always had this unsettling feeling that I’m running out of time to accomplish what I need to accomplish in this life - and I’m only 26.

What’s helped me a lot with this unsettling feeling is taking time to ground myself, take a deep breath and reflect on how far I’ve come, as opposed to how far I still have to go. I also force myself to remember that as long as I’m constantly in tune with myself and gently pushing myself to evolve and mature, I’m already winning.

You will find happiness. You will find love. You will reach every single goal that you’ve set for yourself. You will overcome whatever internal battle you’re currently fighting. You will feel like yourself again. You will receive every single blessing you’re waiting for - as long as you’re willing to put in the work and understand what is right for you and your mental/emotional/spiritual health. 

It may take longer than you want it to, but it’s important to remember to enjoy the journey and learn from your mistakes. As uncomfortable as it may be to accept that no amount of control and planning can predict life’s twists and turns, allowing yourself to trust that the universe will give you everything you need at the right time is extremely empowering and calming. 

Keep doing your thing, and you will reap the rewards in due time.

So, there you have it. If you read the entire post from start to finish, you deserve all the accolades because at the time of posting this, even I haven’t read it all in one go. I hope that you found something that resonated with you and will help you navigate through the f*ckeries in this life easier than before.

Anyways. Happy belated birthday to me, I guess. I can’t wait to never do a post like this again!

Love,

Liv

[bigyack-com]

Streaming TV’s Boom Is a Mixed Blessing for Some Hollywood Writers

LOS ANGELES — It seemed like a good deal. At first.Last April, Netflix offered Kay Reindl and her longtime writing partner a substantial sum — in the mid-six figures, Ms. Reindl said — to oversee 10 episodes of a new sci-fi series, “Sentient.” It sounded like a lot of money for what they figured would be less than a year of work.Ms. Reindl and her writing partner, who have worked steadily as TV writers since the 1990s, would be executive producers, instead of staff writers on someone else’s show. That would mean a lot more responsibility and much longer hours, but it seemed worth it. They found office space and hired a few writers.Then came a surprise: they learned that “Sentient” would actually take 18 months from start to finish. When Ms. Reindl did the math, she realized that, under the new timetable, she would be making roughly the same weekly pay as the writers she was overseeing.“It was a very bad day,” Ms. Reindl said.Netflix declined to comment.The rise of streaming has been a blessing and a curse for working writers like Ms. Reindl, who said she and her partner had ultimately left “Sentient” because of creative differences unrelated to the length of the series. On-demand digital video has ushered in the era of Peak TV, meaning there are more shows and more writing jobs than ever. But many of the jobs are not what they used to be in the days before streaming.“All this opportunity is great, but how to navigate it and keep yourself consistently working and making your living has been the challenging part,” said Stu Zicherman, a writer and showrunner whose credits include “The Americans” on FX and HBO’s “Divorce.”When Ms. Reindl got her start, network series had 24 episodes or more a season. The typical TV writer’s schedule looked something like this: Get hired by May or June, write furiously for most of the year, and then take a six-week hiatus before the process started again.The seasonal rhythms that had been in place for TV writers since the days of “I Love Lucy” started to change more than two decades ago, when cable outlets put out 13-episode seasons of shows like HBO’s “The Sopranos” and, later, AMC’s “Mad Men.”Streaming platforms have revised that model further: eight-episode seasons of Netflix’s “Stranger Things” and Disney Plus’s “The Mandalorian”; six-episode seasons of Amazon Prime Video’s “Fleabag”; three- and six-episode batches of Netflix’s “Black Mirror.” Cable has replied in kind, offering fewer than 12-episode runs of shows like “Atlanta” on FX and “Silicon Valley” on HBO.“I think they’re experimenting with the shortest product they can still call a TV series,” said Steve Conrad, the president of Elephant Pictures, a production company in Chicago. “I couldn’t keep this company together if it was fewer than eight, and it’s coming.”In addition to shortening season lengths, the streaming platforms have ignored the school-year-style calendar of television’s network days, with its premieres in the weeks after Labor Day and finales late in the spring. Netflix has served up new seasons of its most-watched program, “Stranger Things,” in July. Apple TV Plus unveiled one of its most-hyped shows, “Little America,” in the middle of January.The rise of streaming has fattened the wallets of superstar writer-producers like Shonda Rhimes and Ryan Murphy, while also giving chances to unproven writers. But the medium’s shorter seasons and unpredictable cadences have made it harder for writers in Hollywood’s middle class to plot out a year’s work in a way that doesn’t leave them nervous when mortgage payments are due.Complicating the issue is that streaming platforms have been known to take more time to make an episode than their network and cable counterparts. For many writers, that meant less money for more hours, and they complained to their union representatives.“Five years ago, it grew from an isolated problem to a dominant problem,” said Chuck Slocum, the assistant executive director of the Writers Guild of America, West. “We had half of our members wake up and realize one day that they’re making half the money that they were making.”The union worked out some protections for its members. Since 2018, studios are sometimes required to pay writers extra when filming runs longer than expected.That change kicked in too late to help Lila Byock, a writer whose credits include HBO’s “The Leftovers” and Hulu’s “Castle Rock.” She said she was hired on a scripted series that she figured would last 10 months. Instead, it took nearly 18 months, which caused her to pass on other writing jobs.“It gets tricky,” Ms. Byock said. “That wasn’t what I had budgeted for two years of my life.”On the flip side, streaming seasons that require a short time commitment — say, eight months — can also wreak havoc on a writer’s schedule. “You’re not being paid by the studio for five months of the year, but that’s not enough time to take on another show,” said Mr. Conrad, of Elephant Pictures.The old TV calendar is not quite dead. Major producers of network shows, like Dick Wolf and Chuck Lorre, still must come up with at least 22 episodes per season of shows like NBC’s “Chicago P.D.” and CBS’s “Young Sheldon.” But with new streaming platforms like NBCUniversal’s Peacock and HBO Max set to start in the spring, the lives of many TV writers are likely to get more chaotic.“I have friends working in network television and it’s like they’re on a different planet,” said Harley Peyton, a writer and co-executive producer of “Project Blue Book,” a History Channel series with 10 episodes a season.He described staff positions on network shows as “the last full-time jobs in this business,” adding that “those jobs are extraordinarily difficult to get.”The 10 established Hollywood writers who discussed the changes in the industry with The New York Times were careful to point out that they were still able to make good money, even amid the digital disruption of their industry. And yet, they said, it is common for veteran writers these days to be paid as if they were rookies.Jonathan Shikora, a Los Angeles lawyer who represents actors and writers, suggested that longtime TV writers were now underpaid. “Should I be getting the same as some new writer whose script I’m rewriting because their work is so green and new and I’m teaching that person?” he asked.The new economy has some writers thinking twice about moving up the ranks to the position of executive producer. “What I’m starting to see is a lot of friends being like, ‘Why would I ever want to be a showrunner?’” Ms. Byock said, referring to the hands-on executive producer in charge of the writers’ room. “If you’re making the same amount you could be making doing a much less stressful job, why wouldn’t you just do that?”Rob Long, once a writer and an executive producer of the long-running NBC sitcom “Cheers,” said he had tried to make allowances for the changes when he was in charge of “Sullivan & Son,” a TBS sitcom.That show had 10 episodes in its first two seasons and 13 in its third, a significant change from the 28-episode final season of “Cheers.” That was fine with the financially secure Mr. Long, who said, “I got to be honest, I thought it was fantastic.” The difficulty came when he was hiring staff writers.“I was making deals with younger writers just starting out,” he said, “and I was doing the math.”It took eight weeks to write the scripts and prepare for shooting. An additional 15 weeks brought the staff to the end of the production. The schedule meant that “Sullivan & Son” would eat up nearly six months of staff writers’ time.Under the terms of their contracts, they had to give priority to “Sullivan & Son,” meaning that, if the show got renewed, they were obligated to go back to it even if they were working on another project.“It was a de facto way of locking you up,” Mr. Long said.So he came up with an informal solution that he has used on other shows since then.“We make a private, handshake deal with our writers,” he said. “We tell them that if you get on another project, or you sell a pilot or something else happens, I will let you out of your contract,” he said.In other words, Mr. Long added, “I promise to fire the writer.” Read the full article

[adelaster]

8 Months, 21 Potential Blog Posts

Happy November! Rachel here. Somehow it is Thanksgiving already. Somehow a summer in Maine has come and gone. Theo and I thought we’d be blogging all the way through it, but instead we ended up just living it - and now we’ve already said farewell for the season.

In June, I did start a post that already had become irrelevant by July. In August, I rewrote the post and almost put it up, but then it suddenly became September and so much more had happened. Throughout the summer, I would find notes in Theo’s handwriting toward posts that he intended to write, but they all seemed to turn into grocery and hardware shop lists instead.

Given the sweet chaotic sprawl of our lives, it’s possibly impossible that we will ever keep up this blog as regularly as we originally envisioned. At least, for now. But we’re not abandoning ship – we’ll just post as we’re able, sporadically, here and there.

In the meantime, here is a list of blog posts that I would have loved to write over the past eight months:

1) A post about all the big changes in our lives this past winter and spring. In a nutshell, Theo dove into a new job at Spring Lake Ranch, an amazing therapeutic work community in Vermont, and finished the first draft of a new play commission. I held down our homestead in Minneapolis and worked on transitioning to fully freelance life, a shift that (as of July) now is being supported by a Playwrights’ Center McKnight Fellowship! Bit by bit, along the way, we got pieces in place toward our goal of spending a large portion of the summer in Maine.

2) A post about the Alliance of Artists Communities’ Emerging Program Institute, which I had the honor of attending in Washington D.C. this past April. It was so good. I learned so many things. I got so many ideas. I met so many incredible humans. I want to tell you about all of them.

3) A post about my road trip out to Maine in June, picking up Theo from Vermont along the way, and all of our experiences getting settled in - like installing a mailbox (it’s more complicated than one might think) and learning the delightful fact that the New Portland post office is only open for two hours in the early morning and two hours in the afternoon daily.

4) A post about the trip to Asheville that I took in June, for a cousin’s wedding, where I got inspired all over again by my family and that city and Black Mountain College.

5) A post about Healing the Wounds of Turtle Island at Nibezun in July. Theo and I still haven’t found adequate words to talk about that incredible experience. Perhaps you should save the date for July 13-16, 2018 and plan to join the next one (all are welcome). This ceremony will happen annually for 21 years! h/t Jennie Hahn for the initial invitation.

6) A post about the two dozen brilliant souls, family and friends and colleagues, who visited us in New Portland throughout the summer, many of whom came for informal artist residencies lasting a few days to a few weeks (for some remarkable examples of work made during this time, click here, here, and here). Everyone was so kind and patient with our very raw work spaces, a couple momentary power outages, and even the failure of the water pump (which meant fetching water from a well with a bucket for more than a week until it was replaced)! Everyone contributed to the space and its future in some beautiful way, from collaborative brainstorming, researching, and problem-solving to taking on house projects, chores, groceries, and cooking. THANK YOU Rae Simpson, Bob Whitten, Sarah Myers, Steven Wright, Leigh Hendrix, Karen Cellini, Erica Hassink Logan, Theo Langason, Amy DeLap, Andrew Jendrzejewski, Emily Mendelsohn, Kate Dakota Kremer, Jonathan Crimmins, Jennie Hahn, Cory Tamler, Henry Peck, Meara Sharma, Casey Llewellyn, Terry Hempfling, Meghan Frederick, Jon Grayboyes, Josie the Dog, Jeffrey Wells, A Wonderful Person Who Shall Remain Anonymous, and Hannah Geil-Neufeld!

7) A post about house projects galore. We did a few this summer and have a long list of more we’d like to do. The actual completion of a task as simple as installing makeshift shelves in the bathroom somehow ends up adding five more tasks to the list; and the research required toward any given larger task, like renovating the barn, easily could take years. (As my mom once noted, paraphrasing a neighbor, caring for a house is like caring for a person’s health – a constant process, ongoing, over a lifetime.) We had a delightful time getting to know numerous local contractors this summer, and we’re so hugely humbly grateful for the many ways in which our visitors contributed labor and consultation.

8) Related: A post about the valuable Skype consultation that we had with Cameran Bailey to discuss future heat and alternative energy possibilities. We were reminded that what we’re doing is no small undertaking and that it’s very important to take a holistic view, in assessing what to tackle first. Cameran is an incredibly generous, patient, brilliant human (highly recommended if you need a consultant in this arena)!! We’ve got a whole lot of good homework to do... 

9) A post about the remarkable lectures by Torkwase Dyson and Wu Tsang that some of us attended at Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, just 30 minutes away from New Portland - a pretty excellent neighbor.

10) A post about meeting the intrepid founders of the Barn Arts Collective (located in Bass Harbor, Maine) and seeing their latest delightful children’s theater production. h/t Mallery Avidon and Meghan Frederick for the introduction!

11) A post about visiting my collaborator Terry Hempfling at the dreamy Lighthouse Works residency on Fishers Island, New York, and learning about how they operate. So much thoughtful goodness there.

12) A post about the labor of making a space for making. Related: Mierle Laderman Ukeles and “Maintenance Art” (h/t Emily Gastineau). This project’s combination of “development” and “maintenance.” Related: how to interact with the summer’s expenses on our books and taxes next year? The assessment of whether any given financial transaction is “business” or “personal” can feel so absurd when these realities are, in fact, inextricably woven together.

13) A post about the natural environment all around us in New Portland. The trees and bugs and deer and foxes and sky. How different it feels to be so much closer to and aware of nature on a daily basis, compared to being in the city. How clear it becomes that nature ultimately is in charge.

14) A post addressing this question we keep getting of “What’s your vision for this space?” On the practice of staying open as we research and gather and listen and brainstorm and simmer on what is needed (in the field, in this state, in this country and beyond) in tandem with what makes sense for us and our lives. When people ask us this question, “What’s your vision?” we keep saying things like, “We don’t have a singular vision right now” - which feels both vulnerable (it is super tempting to wish we had a more specific, concrete, satisfying elevator speech ready to go) and exciting (we’re swimming through so many wondrous possibilities). Of course, we also keep being reminded that staying open and undefined is, in fact, also a vision. I’m reminded how much active work it is, to stay in a space of not knowing, to trust a process over time.

15) Related: Casey Llewellyn gifted a copy of Emergent Strategy by adrienne maree brown to us. I am reading it now, and it is so crucial and good. A post, probably multiple posts, about reading that book.

16) A post about what it was like to be in such a quiet rural place all summer as Charlottesville and other atrocities unfolded throughout the country and world. We are continually considering how the work of cultivating this space intersects with social justice and equity work already happening in Maine and nationwide. How it might meaningfully support existing efforts, how it might offer crucial rest and rejuvenation, how it might become a hub for imagining new ways forward, how it might serve different functions at different moments, how it might surprise us with new functions along the way, how we need to keep listening hard. 

17) A post about how we’re recognizing that we’re fluidly moving into a new phase of this process: one that involves a rapidly growing network of people. From the start, Theo and I have known that the project of building this space has to be bigger than the two of us; and now that we’re here, taking the next step, that truth rings loud and clear in our bodies. We really can’t do it all by ourselves, and that is so entirely appropriate. Ultimately we know this project will only make sense for us if it’s useful beyond us, if a community* forms around it to help inform it and conceive it and shape it. And that’s already happening - has been happening - slowly, steadily, bit by bit. It’s kind of blowing our minds.

18) *A post about Against the Romance of Community by Miranda Joseph, another relevant book I finally started reading at long last (h/t Lara Nielsen, five years later). I’m not very far in yet, but I can tell it’s gonna be good. 

19) A post about my monthlong residency at MASS MoCA in September - the wonder of thinking about residencies while doing one. The structure of that program and how it compares to others. The place of North Adams. The place of the Berkshires. The people I met.

20) A post about a phone call I had with Carlos Uriona of Double Edge Theatre, over a year ago already, about how the company was founded and how their farm base operates now – and then an amazing site visit that Theo and I had with Carlos and Cariel and others in September! Also another call, quite awhile back, with Nick Slie of Mondo Bizarro talking about the collaborative development of Catapult in New Orleans - the challenges of building a space while also making art, and that perhaps sometimes building a space should be the art for awhile, the sole project of focus, rather than trying to juggle it all at once.

21) A post to ask: Where/how do you think we should capture everything we’re processing and learning!? We have been gathering literally hundreds of resources and ideas and contacts that generous people have been sharing with us along the way, in our email and in a Google Drive and on our phones and in notebooks and on scratch pieces of paper everywhere. Once upon a time, we thought this blog would be The Place to gather all this wisdom, but clearly there’s more wisdom than we have capacity to organize and post. So we wonder: Do you have any suggestions? Any preferred platforms, organizing systems, archival impulses, hot tips?

To sign up for periodic email updates about this endeavor (very periodic – confession, we haven’t even sent out the first one yet! – but it’s coming), click here.

To learn about some ways you can get involved from afar or in Maine next summer, click here. (It’s an old post, but all the stuff we wrote leading up to this summer still is relevant, more or less.)

To see more photos from this past summer, click here.

All images taken by Rachel in New Portland, Maine, 2017.

Previous Post: How to Get Involved

[prettyboy-jimin]

Ripped Away; ii

Pairing: Brothers!Jinkook, Namjin

Genre: Heavy Angst

Warnings: Major Character death, Funeral mentions

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Jungkook’s first Christmas without his hyung

Note

In relation to RA’s first instalment, I was given a project to create a Christmas scene using various figures of speech. I had to edit out the original characters’ names and take out most of the figures of speech because it was very rushed and poorly written. Hope I fixed it enough for you guys to enjoy!

--

He was first to wake up on Christmas morning, just like every morning. The sun had yet to peek over the horizon in the distance, but its rays had already illuminated the quiet neighborhood. With all sleep gone from his eyes, the ceiling became the most interesting thing at that moment as he tried desperately not to let reality ruin him; it was his first Christmas without Jin.

They had cleaned out their shared bedroom a month after the funeral, Jungkook’s mother believed it was enough time to grieve and therefore forced him to move on; despite all his begging and crying, all that he managed to keep of his big brother was a box containing a shirt, a cap, some books and that stupid deflated basketball. He would have to make-do.

With his hair chaotically framing his pale face he let out a tired sigh, Jungkook got out of bed and began to put on his legs. It had been three months since he lost his brother and during those months he had learned how to walk on his own; without the crutches. Though the incisions at what used to be the bend of his knees still hurt after a long time of not moving. He changed out of his pajamas as soon as the prosthetics were on and wore a pair of sweatpants as well as socks. It still disturbed him. After a while, the sharp stabs of pain faded and he faced the daily challenge of steep stairs. It was barely past six in the morning, the house hadn’t uttered a sound and his half of the world was yet to awake. The kitchen was empty, disregarding the open chair at the table and the broken beer bottle on the floor.

The Christmas tree was blinking as Jungkook cleaned up what most likely would have been his father’s drunken mess. The gifts varied from gold metallic paper to last week’s newspaper because his cousins went shopping too late. Most of the gift tags had his name, most of them were from his mother; thinking that maybe if she showered her child in presents  then it would ease his loss and retrieve his mother at least a scrap of forgiveness for treating him so badly.

He made a sandwich from scratch, and proceeded to sit on the couch, television off so as to not wake his parents prematurely. The sunlight began to soak through the cotton lace curtains and real feet padded down the stairs. “’Bout time” he called out, not looking back to see them approach him or greet them good morning.

“I have something for you, sweetheart.” His mother said; kneeling before him and placing a fairly wrinkled hand on his knee, making him flinch at the contact.

“Mom, you already bought me twenty gifts I’m telling you, I don’t want or need any more.”

His mother looked low-spirited, dejected and hesitant. She looked to her husband behind their irate teenager for support and he gave her this with a single nod of his head. Go on, he meant to say. The Christmas wreaths that decorated the room wordlessly cheered her on, make amends, this was it. The Christmas lights that were overpowered by the sun gave her a reassuring warmth, and she found her voice.

“Kookie,” she whispered, “it’s from your brother.”

This caught his attention. Jin got him a gift? That’s impossible. He died four months before Christmas could even cross his mind.

“It’s Christmas, Mom… not April Fools.” he said through gritted teeth, “and this is not a good joke.”

His mother looked as disheartened as ever. Her vision slowly became glossy, she never imagined to ever lose a child let alone have the only one left hate her. Merely tolerating her existence until he can leave, or at least until he can accept what he’d become. Hand still on his knee, pressure slowly becoming unbearable on his left incision scar; Jungkook moved his leg which made his mother remove his hand.  

“I want to be alone, please.” he said. His parents silently left the room, moving to make breakfast instead. As his mother stood and left his sight, a rectangular box that was poorly wrapped in newspaper and topped with an equally poorly tied red ribbon took her place.

“At least see what’s inside,” his mother pleaded, “I swear to you, I don’t know what’s in it.”

His parents left for the kitchen to make Christmas breakfast. He was alone with another solid object to remind him that his best friend was gone. Jungkook stared at it, the blinking lights did not deter him, the smell of cinnamon that he always swore was radiating off the Christmas carpet did not steal his attention, and the sudden generation of power from the television did nothing to hinder his stare. He was determined to burn a hole through that box.

When the sound of pancake batter being mixed and eggs being cracked floated through his ears, he slowly reached for it. Holding it gently yet firmly, afraid it was going to fall apart just like his life did. He tore through the paper slowly, his hands trembled with excitement but his lungs hollowed out with fear. With the paper and ribbons out of the way, Jungkook lifted the lid off of the box. His parents paused and watched intently from the kitchen, he wasn’t bothered. Before anything else, there was a letter. He removed it and planted it beside him on the couch to save for later, underneath where the letter was, laid a framed photograph of them both. He gasped. It was of him and Jin, laughing. Jin’s arm was around his shoulders and their eyes were closed in pure happiness. It was taken last summer; they were having a family picnic by the beach in late July. Jungkook began to cry as he remembered how Jin started contributing to their conversations in a heightened voice. It made him laugh until he started snorting, which made his brother laugh and snort with him. Their father had stolen the wonderful moment when neither brother noticed, later on showing his first born when they returned home. But Jungkook never knew.

Jungkook set it aside and picked up the letter, he saw that it was written in his hyung’s handwriting.

Kookie,

I miss you. I haven’t seen you for the past several days because I’ve been drowning in college application forms and coach has been beating us to a pulp at training. I’m sorry I haven’t had time for you. I see you working hard in school, even here at home. It’s weird to see you in the hallways now. I guess I’m so used to leaving school and heading out to the elementary to pick you up and go home. I never really got the chance to look at you, really look at you and see how much you’ve grown. It’s really weird and un-brotherly-like to say this but, puberty is doing you well. (Well, without all the pimples and voice cracking anyway).

Dad took this picture of us, it’s my favorite one (and I decided to share it with you so feel special.) We were on a picnic in Santa Barbara when we went to visit Nana and Grandpa. That was probably your ugliest laugh yet and I can’t wait until you change it, but I must admit; you were beautiful. I hope school doesn’t repress that beauty. Don’t let it overwork you, twerp.

Anyway, I didn’t want to buy you any Christmas gifts so this wasn’t that big of a sacrifice though it does have purpose behind it; Jungkook, I’ve been filling out application forms… for scholarships that will inevitably take me either half-way across the country or six hours away from home. I just wanted you to have a piece of me with you always. Merry Christmas? I love you, little brother. I know you’re going to achieve many great things.

Jungkook finished reading the letter with a tear drop landing on the paper just shy of Jin’s praise for him. Struggling to breathe, he put it down and let his head fell into his hands, unable to keep it in any longer.

Jungkook cried, harder than he did the day he lost his hyung, because now reality finally slapped him in the face as his parents wrapped their arms around him, struggling not to join his fit of tears.

Jin was never coming back, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it.

i . ii . iii . masterlist

[sarafrancisauthor-blog]

I can’t believe it. 2018. It’s pretty much over. The hours turned to days, days to weeks, the weeks to months. Another year of my little life has come and gone. I had my share of sorrows and joys. In the end, I have a lot to show for.

Allow me to take you on a quick tour of Sara Francis’ 2018 journey.

January

The first month of the year was the most packed. I started a new job which would count as an internship for my Media Communications degree. My short commute of 35 minutes would drag to an hour at least, but the experience with this little media company has been worth it. Also, I wrote my first ADVENTURES OF WOBOT book, WOBOT AND THE 3 TECHNICIANS, which began a new path of my writing journey.

It was also the month that I was shocked into reality; the reality that I don’t need to overwhelm myself with so much. January 11th, 2018, I got into my first (hopefully last) bad car accident. My brand new car–the first car I ever bought– was totaled and my legs were banged and bruised. I thank the good Lord that no one was severely hurt, but I realize now that it had to happen. (A more in-depth post about my experience will come soon 😉 )

It changed my mindset for the rest of the year as to what I needed to make priorities and what was unnecessary.

February – April

Of course, things happened throughout these months, but I can’t recall specific dates. I do know that two major events occurred within this timespan.

The first revision of THE MAINLAND had been completed. It was such an incredible feeling. The story that had been hidden inside me for over three years finally rushed out through my fingertips. I laughed, I cried, I intensified. It was a roller coaster.

The final spring event happened in April. On the 24th, I started a relationship with someone who would buy me books and be there whenever I had questions. This guy has been my source for all weaponry, history, bugs, animals, and grammatical issues (although I usually ignore him for that last one). He has been with me through thick and thin and is becoming my biggest fan (after becoming my proofreader).

[I know you’re reading this, Soren. Of course, I had to include it. No whining.]

May

I released my first poetry book, STARDUST! I had been writing poems for the past six months and I finally put them together into a cute, little, poetry collection. [If you don’t have it, go get it. It’s great and cheap.]

I also released a second ADVENTURES OF WOBOT book, WOBOT, THE GEAR, AND MOTION which is the first science installment in that children’s book series. [Also great and a decent price.]

June

THE BOOK CON! This was the biggest event I’ve ever done in my writing career. The months leading up to it were chaotic and stressful. Trying to gather everything together and the anxiety of bringing it all into the Javits’ Center was overwhelming. I wrote a short blog post about it if you want to learn more. But overall, the event was fun! It wasn’t entirely fruitful monetarily wise, but I made many connections, sold some books, and had a great time. My family and my walking encyclopedia came to support me. It was amazing.

(My dad and my grandpa were a little bored after a while just watching their wives shop. But they still had fun too.)

Check out the blog post!

July – August

During this time, I started crunching out the final revisions of THE MAINLAND. I sent them to my beta readers on vacation and started the final revisions.

I also finalized my book services! I know offer writing workshops, inspirational talks/presentations, Q&As, and book club visits! [Be sure to check those out too!]

Finally, I finished the study guide for THE ISLES! It is a FREE resource for teachers, home-schooling families, and anyone interested in learning more about THE ISLES! It has short answer questions and discussions (that could also be used as essay topics). It’s meant to have the reader think more deeply about the meanings behind the text and to get the most out of the messages. Enter the code TRUTH2017 on my downloads page to get yours now!

August 5th was also the day I entered the 20th year of my life. So long teenage years! I can no longer call myself a “teen author”. Young adult is my new title!

September

September 22nd was my second go-round at The Abbey Fest. Once again, it was another great experience. I wasn’t as successful as the first year, but I still sold books and made new connections. Wobot made a lot of friends too. I especially had such a blast spending time with these little munchkins. They were so much fun and they kept coming back to visit. Their dreams are to start a rock band. Hopefully, their new SF Publishing guitar picks will help them accomplish it!

October

October 25th I worked with Array of Hope at their annual Gala. There, I met best-selling author, Raymond Arroyo. I couldn’t get a picture with him, but my good friend got a video of us conversing (which I can’t find at the moment, of course. But I know it’s somewhere). Raymond now has a copy of THE ISLES and STARDUST. It was a lovely night and a great experience.

(I made that first ad with Raymond Arroyo. So, since I don’t have a pic with him right now, there is a pic of him so you know what he looks like. 😛 )

November

November 25th was the book birthday of THE MAINLAND! After about 2 years, the second book of THE TERRA TESTIMONIES was finally brought to life. I have been dying to share the stories with the world forever and I still can’t believe it’s been done. It is the prequel to THE ISLES so you can finally learn about the “tale for another time” Mark is always talking about. It’s available on Amazon for Kindle and Paperback. Go check it out!

This was also the month I first attempted NaNoWriMo. However, with my book being released, I didn’t win, but I surprised myself! I wrote 30,000 words of book three of THE TERRA TESTIMONIES! I’m making progress slowly and it was definitely a great experience. Next year, I hope to win it!

December

Now, here we are. December of 2018. Another year has gone and, as you can see, it was filled with many blessings.

I couldn’t be more grateful for the happiest moments, but I’m also thankful for the saddest. It is in my moments of dark sorrow that my joys shine brightest. It is then that I realize how blessed my life is and how nothing should be taken for granted.

I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and the happiest New Year.

God bless you! Love, Sara Francis (and the SF Crew)

THE END! (of 2018) – Year Recap I can’t believe it. 2018. It’s pretty much over. The hours turned to days, days to weeks, the weeks to months.

[themoneybuff-blog]

Potential needs versus actual needs: Re-writing my financial blueprint

Last week, I was a guest on the new Fire Below Zero podcast. The interview was fun. (It'll probably be several weeks before the episode airs, though.) Toward the end of our conversation, the hosts asked a question that my mind keeps returning to: What's something you spend money on that other people might question? At the time, I had two answers: On the business side of things, I spend lavishly on gear. I buy top-of-the-line Apple computers, then pimp them out with as much memory and storage as possible. I recently bought some expensive audio and video equipment to help with the GRS YouTube channel. I pay a lot for this gear, but I don't regret it.In my personal life, I have season tickets to the Portland Timbers, our local pro soccer team. These tickets cost $1050 each this year (and I have two of them), or about $62 per game. The price increases to $1150 each next year (or about $67 per game). This might seem exorbitant to some people especially when you consider costs for parking, food, etc. but I'm fine with it. I get a lot of pleasure from these games. This morning, my mind drifted back to this question again. It occurred to me that it doesn't bother me that I spend on either of these things, and I doubt that it would bother other people either. These are deliberate expenses. They're purchases I make mindfully and that bring me both joy and satisfaction. This is how money should be spent. If I were to answer the question today (now that I've had a week to think about it), I'd say that my biggest spending problem is buying things that I might want to have in the future but for which I have no use in the moment. Let me explain what I mean. My Scarcity Mindset Earlier this year, I wrote about the abundance mindset and its evil twin, the scarcity mindset. With a scarcity mindset, you believe that everything is limited. With an abundance mindset, you believe there's plenty for everyone. A scarcity mindset can manifest in many ways. Sometimes it leads people to be jealous and spiteful, to be resentful of others. Sometimes it makes people afraid of the future, makes them feel like they'll never have enough. For people like me, however, a scarcity mindset leads us to want instant gratification. Deep in my money blueprint, there's something that makes me afraid of missing out. As a result, I want things now now now! My desire to buy and have things now is a deeply-ingrained money script that overrides my rational brain. Here's how I operate: If I discover a book or a song or a game or a movie that looks interesting, I buy it. If it's something that I think I'll want to read or hear or play or watch in the future, I pick it up now, even if I'm nowhere near ready to read or hear or play or watch it. Earlier this year, for instance, I decided I wanted to read all of the James Bond books in order. There aren't many (and it's easy to find cheap used paperback copies), so I bought all fourteen of them at once. I plowed through the first six books, then slowly read three more. My interest waned with the quality of the novels. It's now been several weeks since I last picked up The Spy Who Loved Me, and I'm skeptical I'll ever finish it (or the other four books in the series). But I own all fourteen because I bought the entire series at once.

I could also use the Alfred Hitchcock films as an example. A couple of years ago, iTunes had a $50 bundle containing maybe a dozen Hitchcock films. What a bargain! I bought it. Since then, I think I've watched North by Northwest, Rear Window, and Vertigo. I'm not sure when I'll watch the other nine movies from the bundle. A bargain isn't a bargain if you don't use it, right? While these twelve films cost me about $4 each, if you apply that $50 to the three films I've actually watched, my average cost is over $16 per picture. That's not such a bargain. These are minor examples, I know, but I feel like I've spent my entire life buying things to fill potential needs. In the olden days, this led me deep into debt, which sometimes made it tough to meet actual needs. Nowadays, pursuing potential tends to make my life cluttered and chaotic. Potential Needs I'm nearly fifty now. In my thirty years as an adult, my scarcity mindset has led me to purchase a lot of things that have gone unused. The potential needs remained potential. They never materialized. Around the time I started Get Rich Slowly in 2006, my personal library had grown to over 3000 books, most of which I'd never read. Why did I own 3000 books? Part of it is because I love books, yes, but a larger reason was that I thought I might want (or need) each of those books at some point. I need a dozen books about astronomy because at some point I might want to spend time studying the sky.I need a small library of books about woodworking because I want to learn woodworking someday. Besides, what if I need to build a table?I need a complete collection of Shakespeare's plays because every educated person should have read them all. Not sure when I'm going to read them, but I know I should. Eventually, I recognized the folly of of my ways. I purged 80% of my personal library. I still own several hundred books, but today I have a reason for owning most of them. I have an active reference library for subjects I deal with every day personal finance, personal development, etc. and have (mostly) eliminated the books I was keeping to solve potential future problems. It's not just books I've bought to fill potential needs. I built a collection of 7500 comic books that I barely read. I owned dozens of board games that I never played (but might want to someday). I had a huge wardrobe of clothes, many of which had been worn only once or twice. During my divorce, I purged a lot of stuff from my life. As I did, I was amazed and how many things I'd purchased in the past not because I needed them, but because I thought I might need them in the future: Voice recorders! Power tools! Yard tools! Travel gear! All sorts of gadgets and gizmos! One of the core parts of my financial blueprint has always been this faulty notion: If you might need it someday, then buy it today. Changing My Mind Fortunately, I'm making progress. It's slow progress but it's progress. Living with Kim for the past six years has helped. While Kris wasn't necessarily a spendthrift (just the opposite, in fact), she and I had similar tendencies to buy things just in case. (For Kris, this meant buying tons of kitchen gadgets and food-prep items.) This isn't in Kim's DNA. It's not a part of her money blueprint. She doesn't buy something unless she has an immediate need for it. Our RV trip was eye-opening too. Living in so little space, it just wasn't possible to carry a lot of contingency items. When a problem arose, Kim and I dealt with it in the moment. There was no room to carry anything for potential needs. My progress is especially evident with big, expensive stuff. Longer ago, I felt like part of being a responsible homeowner was having a workshop filled with high-quality tools even if I rarely (or never) used them! It was easy for me to rationalize owning a $500 compound miter saw because I might want to use it someday. Nowadays, I only buy a tool if I have an immediate need for it and I believe it's likely I'll need it again in the future. A new hedge trimmer? That's a no-brainer. I bought one in April because I needed it to tame our ivy, and I'll need it again every spring and autumn that we live here in our country cottage. But when I needed a compound miter saw to cut baseboard molding in June? I rented instead of buying because I don't anticipate needing one again for a long, long time. Re-Writing My Financial Blueprint Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying it's bad to want things or to buy new things when you need them. What I'm questioning in myself is my compulsion to buy things before I'm ready to use them. I'm questioning my tendency to accumulate things because I might want to use them or I might need them someday. What if I instead gave myself permission to buy whatever I need and/or want but only if I'm going to use it right away? I'm sure I'd still acquire a lot of books, comics, movies, games, and power tools, but I suspect I wouldn't feel nearly as guilty. (Plus, I'd save a ton of money and my life would be less cluttered!) What if, in the future, I lived by these guidelines? If I want to watch a movie, and I'm going to watch it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.If I want to read a book, and I'm going to read it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.If I want to play a game, and I'm going to play it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.If I need a tool for a job, and I'm going to use it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.And so on. What if, in the future, I changed the core question I've been asking myself? In the past, that question has been, Do I want this? If the answer was yes, then I bought it. In the future, the question should be, Will I use this right now? If the answer is yes, then I can give myself permission to consider the purchase. But if the answer is no, I won't use it immediately, I need to learn to wait. The rational part of my brain thinks this makes a lot of sense. Deeper inside, where my money blueprint resides, I can feel the scarcity mindset already starting to panic https://www.getrichslowly.org/potential-needs/

[andrewdburton]

Potential needs versus actual needs: Re-writing my financial blueprint

Last week, I was a guest on the new Fire Below Zero podcast. The interview was fun. (It'll probably be several weeks before the episode airs, though.)

Toward the end of our conversation, the hosts asked a question that my mind keeps returning to: “What's something you spend money on that other people might question?”

At the time, I had two answers:

On the business side of things, I spend lavishly on gear. I buy top-of-the-line Apple computers, then pimp them out with as much memory and storage as possible. I recently bought some expensive audio and video equipment to help with the GRS YouTube channel. I pay a lot for this gear, but I don't regret it.

In my personal life, I have season tickets to the Portland Timbers, our local pro soccer team. These tickets cost $1050 each this year (and I have two of them), or about $62 per game. The price increases to $1150 each next year (or about $67 per game). This might seem exorbitant to some people — especially when you consider costs for parking, food, etc. — but I'm fine with it. I get a lot of pleasure from these games.

This morning, my mind drifted back to this question again. It occurred to me that it doesn't bother me that I spend on either of these things, and I doubt that it would bother other people either. These are deliberate expenses. They're purchases I make mindfully and that bring me both joy and satisfaction. This is how money should be spent.

If I were to answer the question today (now that I've had a week to think about it), I'd say that my biggest spending problem is buying things that I might want to have in the future — but for which I have no use in the moment.

Let me explain what I mean.

My Scarcity Mindset

Earlier this year, I wrote about the abundance mindset and its evil twin, the scarcity mindset. With a scarcity mindset, you believe that everything is limited. With an abundance mindset, you believe there's plenty for everyone.

A scarcity mindset can manifest in many ways. Sometimes it leads people to be jealous and spiteful, to be resentful of others. Sometimes it makes people afraid of the future, makes them feel like they'll never have enough. For people like me, however, a scarcity mindset leads us to want instant gratification. Deep in my money blueprint, there's something that makes me afraid of missing out. As a result, I want things now now now!

My desire to buy and have things now is a deeply-ingrained money script that overrides my rational brain.

Here's how I operate: If I discover a book or a song or a game or a movie that looks interesting, I buy it. If it's something that I think I'll want to read or hear or play or watch in the future, I pick it up now, even if I'm nowhere near ready to read or hear or play or watch it.

Earlier this year, for instance, I decided I wanted to read all of the James Bond books in order. There aren't many (and it's easy to find cheap used paperback copies), so I bought all fourteen of them at once. I plowed through the first six books, then slowly read three more. My interest waned with the quality of the novels. It's now been several weeks since I last picked up The Spy Who Loved Me, and I'm skeptical I'll ever finish it (or the other four books in the series). But I own all fourteen because I bought the entire series at once.

I could also use the Alfred Hitchcock films as an example. A couple of years ago, iTunes had a $50 bundle containing maybe a dozen Hitchcock films. What a bargain! I bought it. Since then, I think I've watched North by Northwest, Rear Window, and Vertigo. I'm not sure when I'll watch the other nine movies from the bundle. A bargain isn't a bargain if you don't use it, right? While these twelve films cost me about $4 each, if you apply that $50 to the three films I've actually watched, my average cost is over $16 per picture. That's not such a bargain.

These are minor examples, I know, but I feel like I've spent my entire life buying things to fill potential needs. In the olden days, this led me deep into debt, which sometimes made it tough to meet actual needs. Nowadays, pursuing potential tends to make my life cluttered and chaotic.

Potential Needs

I'm nearly fifty now. In my thirty years as an adult, my scarcity mindset has led me to purchase a lot of things that have gone unused. The potential needs remained potential. They never materialized.

Around the time I started Get Rich Slowly in 2006, my personal library had grown to over 3000 books, most of which I'd never read. Why did I own 3000 books? Part of it is because I love books, yes, but a larger reason was that I thought I might want (or need) each of those books at some point.

“I need a dozen books about astronomy because at some point I might want to spend time studying the sky.”

“I need a small library of books about woodworking because I want to learn woodworking someday. Besides, what if I need to build a table?”

“I need a complete collection of Shakespeare's plays because every educated person should have read them all. Not sure when I'm going to read them, but I know I should.”

Eventually, I recognized the folly of of my ways. I purged 80% of my personal library. I still own several hundred books, but today I have a reason for owning most of them. I have an active reference library for subjects I deal with every day — personal finance, personal development, etc. — and have (mostly) eliminated the books I was keeping to solve potential future problems.

It's not just books I've bought to fill potential needs. I built a collection of 7500 comic books that I barely read. I owned dozens of board games that I never played (but might want to someday). I had a huge wardrobe of clothes, many of which had been worn only once or twice.

During my divorce, I purged a lot of stuff from my life. As I did, I was amazed and how many things I'd purchased in the past not because I needed them, but because I thought I might need them in the future: Voice recorders! Power tools! Yard tools! Travel gear! All sorts of gadgets and gizmos!

One of the core parts of my financial blueprint has always been this faulty notion: “If you might need it someday, then buy it today.”

Changing My Mind

Fortunately, I'm making progress. It's slow progress but it's progress.

Living with Kim for the past six years has helped. While Kris wasn't necessarily a spendthrift (just the opposite, in fact), she and I had similar tendencies to buy things “just in case”. (For Kris, this meant buying tons of kitchen gadgets and food-prep items.) This isn't in Kim's DNA. It's not a part of her money blueprint. She doesn't buy something unless she has an immediate need for it.

Our RV trip was eye-opening too. Living in so little space, it just wasn't possible to carry a lot of contingency items. When a problem arose, Kim and I dealt with it in the moment. There was no room to carry anything for potential needs.

My progress is especially evident with big, expensive stuff.

Longer ago, I felt like part of being a responsible homeowner was having a workshop filled with high-quality tools — even if I rarely (or never) used them! It was easy for me to rationalize owning a $500 compound miter saw because I might want to use it someday.

Nowadays, I only buy a tool if I have an immediate need for it and I believe it's likely I'll need it again in the future.

A new hedge trimmer? That's a no-brainer. I bought one in April because I needed it to tame our ivy, and I'll need it again every spring and autumn that we live here in our country cottage. But when I needed a compound miter saw to cut baseboard molding in June? I rented instead of buying because I don't anticipate needing one again for a long, long time.

Re-Writing My Financial Blueprint

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying it's bad to want things or to buy new things when you need them. What I'm questioning in myself is my compulsion to buy things before I'm ready to use them. I'm questioning my tendency to accumulate things because I might want to use them or I might need them someday.

What if I instead gave myself permission to buy whatever I need and/or want — but only if I'm going to use it right away? I'm sure I'd still acquire a lot of books, comics, movies, games, and power tools, but I suspect I wouldn't feel nearly as guilty. (Plus, I'd save a ton of money and my life would be less cluttered!)

What if, in the future, I lived by these guidelines?

If I want to watch a movie, and I'm going to watch it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.

If I want to read a book, and I'm going to read it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.

If I want to play a game, and I'm going to play it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.

If I need a tool for a job, and I'm going to use it right now, then I give myself permission to buy it.

And so on.

What if, in the future, I changed the core question I've been asking myself?

In the past, that question has been, “Do I want this?” If the answer was yes, then I bought it. In the future, the question should be, “Will I use this right now?” If the answer is yes, then I can give myself permission to consider the purchase. But if the answer is no, I won't use it immediately, I need to learn to wait.

The rational part of my brain thinks this makes a lot of sense. Deeper inside, where my money blueprint resides, I can feel the scarcity mindset already starting to panic…

The post Potential needs versus actual needs: Re-writing my financial blueprint appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

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