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celepeace · 4 years ago

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A monster-taming game recommendation list for fans of Pokemon

Whether you're a pokemon fanatic obsessed with all things pokemon past and present, or a veteran fan disillusioned with GameFreak's recent adoption of monetary philosophies and strategies reminiscent of other major game publishers, or looking for a monster-taming fix as you await new Pokemon content...

I'm compiling here a post of little-known games in the genre that Pokemon fans are likely to enjoy!

Under readmore cause long, but some of these games really don’t get the attention they deserve, so if you have the time, please read!

(I am also likely to keep updating and editing this post)

First up is Temtem!

Temtem is a game made by and for Pokemon fans, from the spanish indie developer Crema. Temtem is currently in early access on Steam and PS5, and is likely to remain in early access until sometime late next year. Full launch will include a Nintendo Switch release, too. Despite this, it has plenty of content to explore before full release. The developers are active, release new content on a semi-regular basis, and are responsive to the community as a whole and individuals if you happen to come across a bug you want to report.

Temtem boasts a wide variety of monsters to collect and train. It takes place in the Airborne Archipelago, a system of floating islands that orbit their star, the Pansun. The monsters inhabiting the archipelago are called Temtem, or tem(s), for short.

As far as game mechanics go, it has many similarities to Pokemon, but also many important distinctions. The biggest one, in my opinion, is that the element of chance has been removed from battle entirely. Moves cannot miss, have the same power constantly, and status afflictions have an obviously displayed countdown to when they will wear off (for instance, sleep lasts as long as it says it will last. Not 2-4 turns). PP does not exist, either. Your tems can battle for as long as their HP holds out. In place of PP, a new system called Stamina exists. Stamina is an individual stat, like HP and Attack. Each move costs a certain amount of stamina. If you go over the amount of stamina your tem has, the deficit is detracted from your health instead, and that tem cannot move next turn. Stamina passively regenerates a certain amount each turn, and items and moves exist that can heal stamina. All battles are also double-battles, you and your opponent will typically have two tems on the field at a time. This is just a few of the differences Temtem has from Pokemon, but they're some of the biggest ones.

Temtem is also a massively multiplayer game. You complete the storyline independently (or with a friend through co-op!), but in the overworld you can see other, real players moving around and interacting with the world. There is also public and area-specific chat you can talk to other players through. Despite this, all multiplayer functions are (currently) completely optional. You do not need to interact with others to complete the game.

Overall, Temtem is suitable for the Pokemon fan who is looking for a more challenging experience. Temtem is not a walk in the park you can blaze through with a single super-strong monster. For one, individual tem strength is more well-balanced than it is in Pokemon. There are very few (if any!) completely useless tems. Even some unevolved tems have their niche in the competitive scene! Aside from that, enemy tamers are scaled quite high, and you typically cannot beat them just from the exp you get from other enemy tamers. You have to do some wild-encounter grinding if you want to progress.

Temtem is a very fun game and I've already gotten over 100 hours out of it, despite only 3/5-ish of the planned content being released!

However, I do feel obligated to warn any prospective players of one thing: the current endgame is quite inaccessible. After you complete what is currently implemented of the main storyline, there is still quite a lot left to explore and do, but much of it is locked behind putting a lot of hours into the game. You kind of have to get perfect temtem to do the current PVE (and this is also somewhat true for the PVP too). By perfect I mean you have to breed a good tem and then train it to get the preferable EVs (called TVs in temtem). This takes... well, for a whole team... tens of hours. Of boring grinding. Some people enjoy it! But I don't. Regardless, the game was still worth buying because the non-endgame content is expansive and fun.

So overall, pros & cons:

Pros

Battle system is more friendly towards a competitive scene

Cute monsters

Lots of gay characters, also you can choose pronouns (including they/them) independently from body type and voice

Less difference between the objectively bad tems and good tems than there is in Pokemon

Lots of stuff to do even in early access

Most conversations with dialog choices have the option to be a complete ass for no reason other than it’s fun

Having less type variety in your team is less punishing than in Pokemon due to the synergy system and types overall having less weaknesses and resistances

At least one major character is nonbinary

Cons

Falls prey to the issue of MMOs having in-game economies that are only accessible to diehard no-life players

Related to the above point, cosmetics are prohibitively expensive

Endgame CURRENTLY is inaccessible to most players unless you buy good monsters from other players or spend tens of hours making your own. However I must add that the grind is great if you like that kind of thing and is quite easy and painless to do while watching a show or something.

Here is their Steam page and here is their official website.

Next is Monster Hunter: Stories!

This is a spinoff game of the Monster Hunter franchise released for the 3DS in 2018. If you're anything like me, and you've played the core Monster Hunter games, you've often thought "Man, I wish I could befriend and ride these cool dragon creatures instead of killing or maiming them!"

Well now you can! In Stories, as I will be calling it, you play as a rider rather than a hunter. Riders steal monster eggs from wild nests to raise them among humans as companions and guardians. And yes, egg stealing is a whole mechanic in of itself in this game.

This game works pretty differently from most monster-collecting games. You do battle (usually) against one or two wild monsters using your own, except you fight alongside your monsters too. With swords and stuff. There's armor and weapons you can smelt to make yourself stronger. Type match-ups also kind of don't exist in this game? Except they do? But not in a way you'd expect?

The vast majority of attacking moves you and your monster use fall into categories reminiscent of rock-paper-scissors. Moves can be categorized as power, speed, or technical. Speed beats power, technical beats speed, and power beats technical. The matchup of your move vs your opponent's determines how a turn will go down. If one move beats the other in matchup, then the winner's move will get to go and the loser doesn't get to do anything. If you tie, you both get hit, but for reduced damage. There's also abilities and basic attacks, with abilities basically being the same as pokemon moves, and basic attacks just being "I hit you for normal damage within this category". Also, you don't control what your monster does all the time in battle. You can tell it to use abilities, but what kind basic attacks it carries out is determined by its species' preference. Velicidrome, for instance, prefers speed attacks, but Yian Garuga prefers technical. Stamina also exists in this game in a very similar manner to Temtem.

Overall this game carries over a lot of mechanics Monster Hunter fans will find familiar (how items and statuses work for instance). You don't have to have played a core Monster Hunter game to enjoy Stories though! It's fine and is easy to understand as a stand-alone.

The story has some likable characters and is rather long (it was actually adapted into an anime!), for those of you who enjoy a good story.

I'd really recommend this one especially. If it sounds fun to you and you can drop $30, just do it. I bought it on a whim and I got a few weeks' worth of playing almost nonstop out of it, and I didn't even get to do everything! (I got distracted by Hades, oops)

Stories is also getting a sequel later next year on the nintendo switch! How exciting!

And yes, you do ride the monsters.

Pros & cons:

Pros

Large variety of cool monsters to befriend and raise

Pretty lengthy story

Every tamable monster is also rideable

Deceptively simple combat mechanics, easy to be okay at, hard to master

Incorporates some mechanics from early turn-based party rpgs like Final Fantasy for a nice twist on the monster collecting genre

Cons

Many monsters are objectively outclassed by other ones, making what can be in an actually good team more limited than you’d expect

3DS graphics inherently means the game looks like it was made 7 years before its time

Here is the Monster Hunter Stories official 3DS product page.

And here is Monster Sanctuary!

Monster sanctuary is a game that just had its 1.0 launch- meaning it was in early access and no longer is! Although the devs say they still plan to implement a few more things into the game in future updates. It is available on Steam, Nintendo Switch, Xbox One, and PS4.

Monster sanctuary is a metroidvania twist on the typical monster collecting game, meaning it is also a sidescrolling platformer in which you use abilities you gain throughout the game to explore the world around you. The abilities in this case are the monsters you get! Every monster has an ability that helps you traverse the sanctuary.

Speaking of the sanctuary, the game is set in one. The monster sanctuary is a magically shielded area, cut off from the rest of the world, created by an order of monster keepers, people who befriend and protect the mystical monsters inhabiting the world. Humankind encroached too far on the natural habitat of monsters and were hostile to the native wildlife, so the keepers created an area of varied environments to safely protect and preserve the remaining monsters of the world.

Unlike many other monster collecting games, this game only has 5 types: fire, water, earth, air, and neutral. However, the types themselves do not possess resistances and weaknesses. Instead, each monster has its own assigned weaknesses and resistances. And yes, this can include things like debuffs, physical vs special attacks, and the typical elemental types.

All battles are also 3 vs 3! And unlike in pokemon, where you can only hit the enemies nearest, all monsters have the ability to hit any opponent they want. Turns also work a little differently in that speed doesn't exist, you just use 1 move per monster in your turn and then it goes to your opponent's turn. Your monsters hit in whatever order you want them to.

There is also a quite important combo system in this game, where every hit builds a damage multiplier for the next. Moves often hit multiple times per turn. Healing and buffing actions also build this combo counter. So what monsters you have move in what order really counts!

But the main mechanical difference between this and other games in the genre is how it handles levels and skills. Instead of learning a set move at a certain level, this game incorporates a skill tree, and you get to allocate points into different skills as you grow stronger. And jeez, these skill trees are really extensive. Monster sanctuary is a theorycrafter's dream. Each monster has a unique, specially tailored skill tree, making every monster truly able to have its own niche. You can make use of whatever monster you want if you just put thought into it!

And like Temtem, this game is not made to be beatable by children. I'm sure a child could beat it, but it's not made to be inherently child-friendly like pokemon. It's honestly quite difficult.

On top of that, you are actively encouraged to not just be scraping by each battle. Your performance in battle is rated by an automated system that scores your usage of various mechanics like buffs and debuffs applied, type matchups, and effective usage of combos. The rating system directly influences the rewards you get from each battle, including your likelihood of obtaining an egg from one of the wild monsters you battled (no, you don't catch wild monsters in this game, you get eggs and hatch them). If you're not paying attention to how the game works and making good, effective use of your monsters, you'll have a hard time expanding your team!

The music is also really good, it's made by nature to be able to play over and over and not get old as you explore each area, and the composer(s) really did a good job with this. Some area songs, namely the beach one, I especially enjoy, so much so I've actually played it in the background while I do work.

This is a game I would really recommend. If I made it sound intimidating, it is by no means unbeatable, you're just gonna have to put some thought into how you play. At no point did I actually feel frustrated or like something was impossible. When I hit a wall, I was able to recognize what I did wrong and how I could improve, or I could at least realize something wasn't working and experiment until I found a solution. It's challenging in a genuinely fun, rewarding way.

Pros & cons:

Pros

Extremely in-depth combat system

I genuinely don’t know if there’s an objectively bad monster in this game

Evolution exists but is completely optional, as even un-evolved monsters can be great

Entire soundtrack is full of bangers

Large and diverse variety of monsters to tame

Cons

Story is a little lackluster, but passable

That’s the only con I can think of

Here’s a link to their Steam page and the game’s website.

A kind of unorthodox recommendation is the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon series!

Likelihood is that everyone reading this has heard of this series already, but just in case anyone hasn't, I thought I'd include it! I would categorize this as a hybrid between the mystery dungeon genre and the monster collecting genre, because you recruit pokemon as you play and can use those pokemon on your team!

If you're unaware, the mystery dungeon genre is a small subset of dungeon crawler games where you progress through randomly generated levels called mystery dungeons. Throughout the dungeons, there will be enemies to fight and items to collect. The challenge of these games is mostly due to the stamina aspect of them, in that you have to manage your resources as you progress through the level. If you go all out in each fight, you will inevitably lose quite quickly. You have to learn to win against enemies while balancing your use of items and PP, so you have enough for the next fight, and the fight after that.

Pokemon mystery dungeon in particular is famous for its stories, the likes of which isn't seen often in Pokemon games. They are hugely story-driven games and are notable for the emotional depth they possess. It's pretty normal for the average player to cry at least once in the span of the game. There's lots of memes about that specifically.

This entry in my list is also unique for being a series. So, which one should you play first? It actually doesn't matter! Each storyline is entirely self-contained and requires no knowledge of prior entries. The quality of each entry varies and is a point of contention among fans. I say you should play all of them, because they all have their merits (though some more than others.... coughgatestoinfinitycough). They're mostly distinct for the generation of Pokemon they take place in. Rescue team is gen 3, Explorers is gen 4, Gates to Infinity is gen 5, Super Mystery Dungeon is gen 6, and Rescue Team DX is a remake of a gen 3 game but has the mechanics and moves of a gen 8 game.

My only real caution is that you play Explorers of Sky, not Darkness or Time. Sky is basically a combination of the two games with added items and content. It's an objective upgrade over its predecessors, and I honestly wouldn't waste money on the other two.

I’m not going to include a pros and cons list for the PMD series because I’m incredibly biased and it wouldn’t be an honest review.

Next is Monster Crown!

Monster Crown is a monster collecting game that seems to take heavy inspiration from early-gen Pokemon games in particular. It is currently in early access on Steam and is not expensive. I learned about it through the developers of Monster Sanctuary, when they recommended it on their official Discord.

The game has lots of charm and interesting creature designs, and an entirely new take on monster typings as well. Instead of monster types being based off of natural elements like fire, water, electricity, etc. Monster Crown uses typings that seem to be influenced by the personalities of the monsters. For instance, Brutal, Relentless, and Will are all monster types!

It also captures a lot of the charm many of us look fondly upon in early GameBoy-era games. The music is mostly chiptune, with some more modern backing instruments at times, and the visuals are very reminiscent of games like Pokemon Crystal in particular. Monster Crown is definitely the monster collecting game for fans of the 8-bit era!

The thing that stands out the most to me about this game is the breeding system. Instead of one parent monster passing down its species to its offspring, you can create true hybrids in this game.

However, it is very early access. I would consider the current build as an alpha, not even a beta yet! So temper your expectations here. I have not encountered any major bugs, but visual glitches here and there are quite common. The game also could definitely use some polish and streamlining, and is quite limited in content currently. But the dev(s) seem quite active, so I fully expect these kinks to be worked out in time!

The reviews are rather positive, especially for being in early access. I'm all for expanding the monster collecting genre, so if you're looking to expand your horizons in that sense, I would recommend you at least give this one a look! I personally had quite a bit of fun playing Monster Crown and am going to keep an eye out for updates.

Pros & cons:

Pros

Charming artstyle, appealing monster designs

Faithful callback to a bygone era of gaming

Controls are fairly simple and easy to get the hang of (and are completely customizable!)

Cool breeding and hybridization mechanics

There's a starter for each monster type!

You can choose your pronouns, including they/them!

Cons

Inherent nature of being very early access means can be clunky and unpolished at times

Also not much content as of right now, see above

User interface could use some redesign in places

Here’s their Steam page and the official website!

Here’s an oldie but a goodie, Azure Dreams!

This is one I actually haven’t played, mostly because it’s really old and therefore only practically accessible if you play it on an emulator, unless you're one of those old game collectors. Azure Dreams was developed by Konami and released for the PS1 in 1997. My impression of it was that it either didn’t sell well or only took off in Japan, because it’s actually really hard to find any comprehensive information about it on the internet.

Azure Dreams is a monster collecting - dating sim hybrid. You can build relationships with various characters and can pursue some of them romantically, although that isn’t the main draw of the game. There is also a stripped-down version that exists for the GameBoy Color, which forgoes the dating portion of the game entirely.

Azure Dreams is kind of like a mystery dungeon game in that you progress through a randomly generated, ever-changing tower using the help of the familiars you have accrued throughout your adventure. Similarly to Monster Hunter: Stories, you yourself also take part in the fighting alongside your monsters. Each time you enter the tower, your character’s level is lowered to 1, but your familiars keep their experience. Thus, progression is made through strengthening your monsters. To obtain monsters, you collect their eggs, just like in Monster Sanctuary (which, turns out, was at least partially inspired by this game!)

Due to this game being very old and on the PS1, the visuals leave a lot to be desired... but if you can get past that, Azure Dreams has lots of replayability and customization to how you play the game. To this day, it appears it has a somewhat active speedrunning community!

If you don’t mind the effort of using an emulator, and like old games, Azure Dreams just might be that timesink you were looking for in quarantine.

Honorable mentions:

Pokemon Insurgence (or any Pokemon fangame/ROMhack, really!) is a Pokemon fangame that introduces Delta Pokemon, which are really cool type-swapped versions of existing Pokemon. It’s sufficiently challenging and has a lot of variety in what you can catch in the wild, so you can pretty much add whatever you want to your team! The story is quite good, and the main campaign is multiple times longer than a typical Pokemon game’s campaign. Download it here!

ARK: Survival Evolved is NOT a monster collecting game BUT you do get to tame and fight alongside a lot of really cool extinct species, including but not limited to the dinosaurs we all know and love. This game is genuinely fun as hell, especially with friends, but I must warn you: never play on official servers. I highly recommend singleplayer, playing on a casual private server, or making your own server. Here’s the Steam page.

#pokemon #temtem #monster sanctuary #monster hunter stories #monster crown #azure dreams #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon alternatives

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yumeisha · 4 years ago

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Love In Print [Masaru] - Episode 1

“But Mari, I don’t WANT to go read this on Wattpad, I want to stay here on Tumblr!” Listen, my friend. Let me help you. Here’s all of Episode 1! (But the rest is over here if you decide you want to read it!)

— SATURDAY NIGHT —

She’s started to think of it as the summer of weddings. Like purgatory, but with more flowers.

Reiko sighs. Another Saturday, another charming garden venue. Soft, flickering tea lights float in shallow porcelain bowls. It looks like something lifted straight out of Pinterest, and it’s pretty in all the right ways, hitting every obligatory aesthetic beat. The music is loud and many of the guests are amiably drunk, swaying in slow circles on the dance floor or queuing up for one more lap around the buffet.

Alone at her table, Reiko hides behind the towering lily centerpiece, nursing a headache. She fishes her phone out of the tiny, mostly useless evening bag she’s bought to go with this dress and takes refuge in her work inbox.

She’d love to go home, but it’s too early to make her retreat. Another two hours, she coaches herself. You can make it for two more.

“Come on,” says Ren, prodding her in the shoulder. Reiko jumps half a mile and nearly drops her phone, not that her cousin notices. “We’re missing a cake opportunity,” he whines.

As usual, Ren resembles a figure pulled directly off some runway in Milan. Impeccably attired, hair artfully tousled, a Rolex gleaming from his left wrist. Reiko plucks at a tuft of fur caught on the cuff of his tuxedo.

“You know, there is such a thing as a lint roller. You have one somewhere in your apartment.”

Ren peers down at the wad of cat hair slowly drifting down to the grass beneath their table. “Lint roller? What lint roller?” And then his face lights up. “Oh! You mean that tape-on-a-stick thing from the last time you came over?”

“Yes,” Reiko answers patiently. “That tape-on-a-stick thing. You use it to make sure you aren’t leaving the house dressed in cat fluff.”

Suzu pops up behind Ren. “He likes for everyone to know that he’s more complex than he appears. An insufferable playboy and a sophisticated cat bachelor.” She loops her arm through his and makes a show of sniffing at his clothes. “Ah,” she breathes. “The smell of too much money, layered over eau de too many cats.”

“I have three. How is that too many? And why aren’t either of you interested in getting some cake? This is a wedding. You go to weddings for cake.”

“That’s definitely the primary reason for attending weddings.”

“It’s from Fujiwara’s, you know. They never do weddings anymore. You’re missing the dessert event of your lives.”

Suzu straightens his boutonniere. “You accosted the Fujiwara grannies for these people?” A low whistle. “Wow. Dad must really like them.”

Reiko follows her twin’s gaze. Their father, Ryuuki, is busy holding court at a neighboring table. He laughs raucously at someone’s cheesy anecdote and is having the most fun out of all of them. “It’s all business, I suppose,” she says, unable to keep from smiling despite how little she’s enjoying herself.

Suzu snorts. “Of course it’s all business. Isn’t it always?” To Ren, she says, “Hey, how long before we’ve done our duty for the family market stall? I still have ten pages left to write on a research paper and it’s…” She grabs his arm in order to check the time on his fancy watch. “… 9:34. With half an hour’s drive back to my apartment.”

“You can spare ten minutes to have a slice of legendary cake, Tachibana Suzuna.”

“God, okay. But it better not be weird like that sheet cake you ordered for the charity auction last month.”

“Not weird. Avant-garde.”

“Uh-huh. Also, it tasted like beets and had radioactive magenta icing. So gross.”

“You and Reiko just really have no appreciation for the finer things in life. Let’s go, the line’s only getting longer.”

“Don’t want any,” Reiko pipes up. “I’ll have a slice vicariously, through Suzu.”

“Twin powers,” Suzu concurs, initiating the special handshake they invented when they were six. Almost twenty years later, they’re still augmenting the sequence with new moves. “Anything I ate, Reiko also ate. And vice versa. Page 2, Line 21 in the Twin Manual.”

“The worst plus-ones anybody ever brought to a wedding,” complains Ren. He pours Reiko a fresh glass of water from the pitcher on the table and gives her a pat on the head, a gesture of silent sympathy.

She watches Ren and Suzu as they stop to tease Ryuuki along the way. And then she blinks back the onslaught of unwanted tears, reaches for her phone again, and taps the newest e-mail notification. Three unread messages beckon through Reiko’s blurred vision. She scans the subject lines, head bowed over the glowing screen. Slipping into the steps of a familiar dance, she starts at the bottom with the oldest message first, because that’s easier than confronting her emotions.

PRE-ORDER CAMPAIGN - SPS OMNIBUS EDITION. A reply from the manufacturer about a shipment of Star Princess Sanna enamel pins she asked about on Friday afternoon. Delayed for another two weeks. Not ideal, but better than never getting them in at all. Reiko marks it for a response later.

TENJOU DELIVERY WEDNESDAY. Timestamped a mere ten minutes ago. She isn’t the only one working on a day off. Reiko notices right away that the message has been flagged as important, which is odd. This e-mail appears, without fail, every Monday of her life. Throughout the long history of this exchange, the message has never been flagged as important. At least, not that Reiko can remember.

She almost opens it, curiosity triggered, but then she sees the subject of the next e-mail and momentarily forgets everything else.

ALL DEPTS: QUARTERLY MEETING — MON @ 10AM

A thrill dances through her, momentarily displacing the throbbing ache in her skull. The sounds of the reception fade away. She taps the message and it unfurls into a calendar invite. Representatives from every department at her publishing house will be expected to attend, including Reiko and the other senior marketing staff.

Most meetings are a dreary prospect, especially when scheduled for first thing on a Monday. At these quarterly gatherings, it takes hours to discuss things like sales figures and future business plans. But this one is special, because they’ll finally present the twentieth anniversary plans for DUCHESS Magazine’s most iconic franchise to date: Red Thread. The first manga she ever read all the way through, start to finish. The reason why she applied at Yumeisha in the first place, as soon as she’d graduated.

Reiko accepts the invite and adds it to her burgeoning, meticulously color-coded calendar. She can’t keep from breaking into a smile. She’s still beaming at her phone when she hears the grass crunching softly under someone’s feet and looks up to find that she is no longer alone.

The someone is tall, just about as impeccably turned out as Ren, and wearing a pair of dress shoes so highly polished that Reiko can see her reflection in them. He’s shed the jacket and rolled up the sleeves of the crisp white shirt underneath.

There is only a bowl of tealights to see him by, so it takes a moment for Reiko to recognize the man now seating himself across from her. But if the head of blond hair hadn’t given it away, the green eyes and trademark smirk would have made it very clear within the next two seconds, anyway.

She blinks at him. “Oshiro?”

“Hi.”

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?”

He leans back into the chair and stretches his long legs under the table, instantly making himself at home. “Attending a wedding,” he replies. “Chatting with the bride’s aunties. Waiting for you to pay attention to me.”

“And sending e-mails?”

“No rest for the wicked, as they say.”

Reiko puts her phone down. “It’s weird seeing you outside of work. This is the last place I’d expect to run into you.”

“Why? Because you figured that I live at the office and camp out under my desk on days off?”

She laughs. “I mean, yeah.”

“To be fair, I’d expect the same of you.”

Well, that really is fair. Sometimes Reiko looks up from the endless loop between work and her apartment, her apartment and then work, and realizes that her entire existence can be summed up in three boring sentences or less. And then she’ll go back to her computer screen, her half empty coffee mug, the pathetic little granola bar that will have to serve as her lunch. But that’s just the way of things, isn’t it? At least she genuinely loves her job. It would be much harder to bear, otherwise.

“I’ve considered just packing myself a bag and living in my cubicle,” Reiko admits, without any real shame. In the background, the band segues into their much livelier cover of a depressing breakup anthem. Over the noise, she adds, “At least it would save me a commute.”

“So dedicated.”

She shrugs. “So lazy.”

“Anyone truly lazy wouldn’t be checking her inbox at a wedding reception,” Oshiro points out.

“Guilty as charged. Have you come to scold me for not participating in wedding activities?”

“No, I’ve come to ask you why you haven’t opened my e-mail.” He waves his own phone at her. “I checked three seconds ago. It definitely still says unread.”

“It’s flagged important and with a read receipt? Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s high priority. Read it right now.” He angles a covert glance over her shoulder, in the direction he came from earlier. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, don’t reply until I’m back over there.”

“Wait, you want a reply, too? What am I supposed to say? You send me the same four lines every week. I have the thing memorized by now.” To prove this point, she clasps her hands behind her back and recites, “Heading to Tenjou on Wednesday. They need endcaps, window decals, sticker packs, blah blah blah, for insert-manga-title-here. I’ll stop by and grab them on my way out. Thanks. Oshiro Masaru, DUCHESS Sales, 81-4-8914-1111, extension 822.”

His demeanor shifts, now part bemusement and part blatant self-satisfaction. “Look, Tachibana, I’m beyond flattered that you hang onto my every word like this. Not surprising. I’m extremely eloquent in my digital correspondence.”

She rolls her eyes. “There it is. I knew it was coming.”

“You even know my extension by heart,” Oshiro continues blithely. “It’s like my wildest dreams coming true. But what I really need right now is for you to open that e-mail and write me a timely reply. By timely, I mean don’t hit send until I’m at my table again. And then I’ll read your response and write you back. So on, so forth, rinse and repeat, until this torture is over and we can both leave.”

“Ah.” Reiko crosses her arms. “You want a prolonged reason to be on your phone.”

“Correct.”

“Because you don’t want to be here.”

“Also correct, but needs clarification. I don’t want to be at this wedding. I do want to be at this table with you.”

He tips his head towards his original seating arrangements. Reiko risks a covert glance and notes that Oshiro’s vacated chair is surrounded by chattering ladies ranging from middle-aged to elderly. Somehow, without ever speaking to a single one of them, Reiko can tell that they’re the problematic aunties who don’t get along with any of the other aunties. Consequently, they’ve been placed where they can ostensibly do the least damage. From the looks of it, they’re having a fabulous time.

Reiko bites her lip, smothering a surge of laughter. “Wow. How did you end up with the best seat in the house? Like, who did you offend?”

“Ha ha. I owed the groom a favor and he cashed in, majorly.” Oshiro leans forward. “They’re a nice bunch, don’t get me wrong, but if they set me up with another of their nieces, I’ll be double booked from today until Christmas.”

“You’re welcome to sit here instead,” she offers. “We have an extra chair. My dad prefers to migrate between friend groups.”

“Thanks, but I can’t just abandon my post. I wouldn’t put it past them to follow me over here, or else I’d take you up on that suggestion. I figure random texts to my brothers will seem rude, unlike important work e-mails. So play along, won’t you? And keep in mind at least one of them will be reading over my shoulder the whole time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What on earth do you think I’d be putting in that e-mail?”

“I’m just saying, don’t use this as an opportunity to confess your undying love or anything. Maintain professionalism and all that.”

“Gosh, what a tall order. How will I ever comply?”

“Dig deep, Tachibana. Find that inner strength.”

Reiko pulls a face. “You came all the way here just to make me do this?”

“Yes,” says Oshiro. “You’re welcome. I’ll look for your thank you note in the mail. I also like gift baskets. The ones with baked goods are okay, but no edible fruit bouquets or artisan cheeses. Nobody wants those.”

“But why me?” she persists. “Don’t you have anyone else you can trade fake work e-mails with? What about Ueda? Or your boss?”

“Hey, take it easy. I’m not used to outright rejection.”

“I’m not rejecting you, I’m just confused.”

“What’s there to be confused about? I don’t want to be here. Neither do you. Let’s help each other out.”

Neither do you. Reiko feels very, very obvious, now.

He watches her expectantly. She can tell that he’s fighting hard not to break into one of his insouciant grins. Reiko can’t decide if she wants to smack him or bask in the infectious warmth of his attention, like a deprived houseplant straining to soak up every drop of sunshine it can get.

This conflicted reaction is more embarrassing than being caught on her phone. For God’s sake, it’s just Oshiro.

Their departments — Sales for him, Marketing for her — are often flung together, which means running into him at Yumeisha is pretty normal. They take the same elevator from the lobby and frequent the same break room on the tenth floor. He stops at her desk most Wednesday afternoons, as promised in his e-mails. Once in a while, if she stays even later than usual, Reiko might see him striding ahead of her through the lobby’s sliding glass doors, crossing the street to catch the same train. They never talk much, though, unless it’s about work.

Still true, she concludes, as Oshiro stands up and pushes the chair into place, preparing to return to the Island of Matchmaking Aunties. He walks backwards away from her, hands in his pockets. “Talk soon,” he tells Reiko, smiling as if he’s guessed all her secrets. And then he’s gone, threading his way through the crowd while she stares after him, utterly bewildered.

Read more episodes on Wattpad!

#love in print #oshiro masaru #tachibana reiko #mariko writes things

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newbeginningsforever · 5 years ago

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poetry: children of light and shadow

Hey, this is actually some personal poetry of mine but I have no one to read it, and I’m not going to publish it or anything, so I thought it’d put it here... My life is actually not too different to Alucard’s, though, so I don’t think it’s that out of place. It’s probably too lonely for most people to relate to, but oh well. *caution: entering bisexual sadness*

“There’s things I want to say to you, but I’ll just let you live. And if you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.” - Cinnamon, Lana Del Rey

Let’s start with what I want.

I want coffee, cigarettes, and sex. I want to sleep peacefully, I want to breathe and let go without fear of the future. I want you. And you’re the only thing that I want that really matters to me.

I want to sit in a cafe with you on a Sunday afternoon, after a lazy morning in bed. Reading the paper, listening to our favorite jazz, running my fingers through your hair. Soaking in sleepy sunshine and morning music in our little Brooklyn bed. I want to brush those perfect lips of yours and whisper the words I wish you wanted to hear. Sipping coffees, smiling sweetly… kissing you in the little golden dress I bought for you. I want to hold your little palm in mine, and kiss you there, and tell you what a ray of sunshine you are in my dark, miserable life.

And one morning I want to wake up in bed with you and tell you, between our rumbled bedsheets, my plan: some grand adventure that I’ve designed for us. Better than in any storybook. After all, I’m a writer. I’m your lover. Just trust me, and take my hand. I’ll guide you to the promised land.

Our own promised land. The place, the feeling, promised by the storybooks, by the movies, and the lives of the people all around me. The people I wish I could be. The lives of lovers. They know of places I’ve never been, never felt. A promised land that I can only dream about. When I met you, I thought you would be the one to take me there. To open the doors and invite me inside. You’d be the one to take me there.

Where? Well, does it really matter. It could be Paris. Or Italy. Or even Vermont. The GPS coordinates are not of concern. Because I can go only around the corner with you and feel like it’s a million miles away.

I love you and I love the rain. I love your voice, your song, your soul. I love your heartbeat. Your smile, and your little snaggle-tooth. You’re imperfectly perfect. Everyone loves you. Everyone wants to be your friend. Everyone wants to sit in your rays of golden sunshine.

So do I.

But people fall in love with you every day. I wish upon a star that I would be the one you choose, the one you take there, the one to hold your tiny hand. To take you out and kiss you in the morning light. To dream of you in memories, and not in fantasies.

I want to tell you I love you and have you know what I really mean. But if you do, if you really understand, if I tell you, won’t you run away?

People run away from me all the time. My sadness repels people like a magnet. Will that be you, too? Will you gasp softly and shift away, will you remind me that I’m not yours? Will you cry in happiness, like you do in my fantasies? Or will you cry in sadness for my lonely, broken soul that isn’t yours to mend?

Will you run from me in the end?

I miss you. I love you. I want you. More than anything, I just want to be inside you. Inside your head, your heart, your thoughts, your bed. But I’m not. Not in the way I want to be.

Because I’m the third wheel. You don’t need me. I’m almost useless. I take up space.

When I leave, aren’t you really just relieved? When I take my sadness with me and let you go back to your world of happiness and love. And your boyfriend.

You’re lovely.

I’m lonely.

I get needy. Needy for you, for your love. And I’m living a lie if I believe that you will ever really be mine. You’re not mine. Not my lover. Not my girlfriend. Not my darling girl.

My life isn’t a fairytale. Not at all.

It’s real and it’s broken. No one ever falls in love with me. And you’re broken too, I know, but you’re spoken for. You don’t have to endure it alone. You have a man. You have a future defined for you, designed by you.

...I’m letting go. Letting go of you. And it’s hard, because this lie, this sweet fantasy that I’m letting go, full of you, it’s so lovely. So perfect. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s packed with you, and adventures, and requited love. I’ve never known that.

I wish so much that it could be real. Real love. In Real Life. Not in my dreams. But I’m a dreamer, aren’t I? A planner, a schemer, a mastermind. Not a lover. Not if I want to be, and I do.

My realm is darkness. Your world is full of light. I’ve climbed up castle turrets, out of reach. I hide myself away from the world, I protect myself behind these stone walls. Because every time I’ve let them down, people attack. They take what they want from me, and they go.

And they never look back.

Will you do so, too?

People don’t fall in love with me. I’m not like you. People aren’t attracted to me like a magnet. If anything, I’m a negative magnet, I repel people. My sadness and passion for perfection repels people all the time. People don’t want people who are perfect and sad. They want people who are happy and messy. Like you.

People don’t fall in love with me. They never have. I’m not like you. I wish I could be, but I don’t know how. And I don’t think I could ever really make you love me back. It’s a far fetched fantasy that I hooked myself on, because oh- wouldn’t it be so perfect? If it was real? If we could have that? It’s ridiculous. I’m not what you want, dear. I know. Well, my brain does, anyway.

But my heart aches for something more. Something more to this life. The thing we’re all really living for: real love. The love I can see all around me, but I can never feel. I can see glimpses of it, on subway platforms and corner cafes and city sidewalks, but I cannot touch it. I cannot know it, no matter how hard I try. It’s elusive. And yeah, I’ve tried not trying. That doesn’t work either.

Not once have I woken up satisfied. Not once have I woken up in the arms of my beloved and been loved in return.

I’ve been in your bed before but it was all wrong. It’s not the way I want. I don’t really want your friendship, and I certainly don’t want your pity. But that’s what I get. Because still, I’m trapped in dark, and you’re wrapped in light.

We are, after all, children of light and shadow.

And I’m your shadow, in many ways. I walk behind you and grab hold of any scrap of love I can get my hands on. Anything you offer me. I’m blind and I’m hungry for your love. Dear, I’m wise in almost everything, but I’m foolish for you.

You see, you hold me heart - cold and barely beating - in your tiny little hand. But I cannot hold yours. Someone else already has it. You have a heart in both hands and yet, I’m empty. Dragged into a love story that’s not mine to take part in.

I wanted to be the starring role, but I’m just an understudy. Or a stage hand. Regardless, I’m definitely not in your play. But I wanted to be. I auditioned, but it was too late. Or, it wasn’t good enough. How can I know for sure? I’ve never asked you. Come to think of it, when I poured my heart out, I don’t think you were even paying attention.

Yet, I’m forced to watch your show. I’m forced to watch, but never know, never take part in, the love that I’m witness to. This love that I wanted more than anything.

So what I’m forced to do, really, is to either be dragged along, my cold, quasi-lifeless heart in your hand, pulled by the string attached to you, or to cut it off. Cut this cord and stand up, reach out, take back my leaden, uncomfortably cool heart in your hand, and place it back inside my chest.

Your hand won’t warm it anymore, and I will truly be alone, but I wouldn’t be a slave to you anymore. I wouldn’t be a dog, lapping up the scraps of your love. I would be free. Free and lonely, but still free.

Still me.

songs i’ve felt for you:

~ if i can’t love her (beauty and the beast)

~ bloodstream (stateless)

~ do I wanna know? (arctic monkeys)

~ i wanna be yours (artctic monkeys)

~ in my dreams (anastasia)

~ paris holds the key to her heart (anastasia)

~ evermore (beauty and the beast)

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aslanjadecarlyle · 5 years ago

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that’s when I could finally breathe (Barlyle)

title: that’s when I could finally breathe

summary: Phillip Carlyle made front page headlines when he ran away.

rating: M

content warning(s): no graphic scenes, but alluded-to rape and one fade-to-black oral rape scene (towards the beginning)

word count: 7,074

dark ✅ angst ✅ heavy angst ✅ whump ✅ angst with a happy ending ✅ angst & fluff ✅

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130798

——

This fic is a direct response to an anon Tumblr request for Phillip angst! If you see this, I hope you enjoy!

——

Phillip Carlyle, son of the esteemed Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Carlyle, made front page headlines when he ran away.

Reporters had a field day when the news broke that Phillip Carlyle had fled his father’s multi-million dollar estate. In particular, one Mr. Bennett over at The Herald set aside his favorite thing to hate — P.T. Barnum’s “freak show circus” — to focus, instead, on the Carlyle boy.

It didn’t take long for the rumors to become downright outlandish. One rogue reporter published an article claiming that Phillip hadn’t run away — he’d been murdered by his own father’s hand. Soon after, other journalists started to sink their teeth into this theory.

Mr. and Mrs. Carlyle released their own statement to the press. No, they did not murder their only offspring, disgraced though he may be. That was utterly ridiculous. Offensive. Vile to even think about. They’d be suing every “gossip rag” that reported such garbage. They even threatened to go as far as to sue the city.

The Carlyles were adamant in their denial of involvement in anything that may have happened to their son.

But that then left the question...

Where was Phillip Carlyle?

The man leers down at Phillip. At one time, Phillip may have tried to defend himself, but now he only flinches away and tries to shrink into the dark corner of the alleyway. His clothes are ratted and torn, dirtied beyond recognition, but the man doesn’t seem to care. His hand strikes out like a snake, grabs Phillip by the jaw, squeezing and forcing his lips to pucker. His fingernails are long and dirty and dig into the soft skin of Phillip’s cheek.

The man grins. Several teeth are blackened or stained, others are missing. His breath washes over Phillip, sour and rancid, and makes him gag. “How about putting that pretty little mouth of yours to use, eh?”

Phillip whimpers, squeezes his eyes shut, tries to twist away. But he’s much thinner than before, his clothes hanging off him like rags, and doesn’t put up much of a fight. He flinches when he hears the familiar rustling of fabric, but has nowhere to run.

He’d fled without money, without valuables. He had nothing.

He could have headed to a homeless shelter, but... no. There aren’t many in the state, but the few that there are would have required his name, possibly identification. As soon as somebody heard the name “Carlyle,” they would have put two and two together. Reporters would be contacted, he would be flocked with questions. His parents would be notified, and his father...

No.

He can’t go back there.

So it is with his eyes squeezed shut, two tears streaking down his dirtied cheeks, that Phillip parts his lips and accepts his fate.

P.T. Barnum doesn’t pay much attention to the headlines... unless, of course, it is he who is being written about. He doesn’t know much about the Carlyle boy’s disappearance, only that it seems to have distracted Mr. Bennett for the time being. Normally, Barnum would be plotting ways to get his name back in the papers, but all Mr. Bennett seems to care about is dragging his name through the mud. It isn’t good publicity, so Barnum doesn’t want it. Good riddance to him.

No, instead Barnum is busy planning another round of recruiting circus acts. His audience wants something new so he is going to give it to them. He’ll travel the entire state of New York if he has to... perhaps he’ll even venture into Connecticut or New Jersey.

He plans to leave by train in the morning, and is going to keep W.D. Wheeler in charge. O’Malley thinks that Barnum is entrusting him, but... well, could you really trust a thief alone? He is going to be gone for a few days, perhaps a week. He can’t take any chances.

Charity, his former wife and mother to his two children, seems more concerned about the trip than he is.

“What if something goes wrong while you’re away?” she frets.

Barnum laughs. “What could happen? The circus catches fire?”

Charity purses her lips and says nothing.

He chuckles, kisses her cheek. “That would never happen. Everything is going to be fine.”

The next morning, he hugs Charity and kisses his daughters goodbye.

And then he’s off.

His left eye is so swollen shut that he can’t see out of it. Tears roll down his cheeks, stinging cuts, mixing with blood. He’s managed to get up, managed to move from his old alleyway into another, but he knows that it won’t keep them away for long.

All his energy seems to have seeped out of him at once. He curls into a ball and closes his eyes.

He sees his father. Theodore Carlyle’s angry face, normally so stoic even as he beats his only son, now enraged red. His own screams echo in his ears, useless pleas that fall from his lips. His mother wasn’t there, but he can see her watching in the corner, her lips pulled down into a tight frown, as she had many, many other beatings.

All because he’d been so careless.

Now, the ghosts of those injuries throb as if reminding him. Disgusting. Useless. Vile. He trembles, his left eye throbbing. That wasn’t because of his father... that was because somebody had been unhappy with his ‘performance.’ He can’t remember the man’s face now, they all run together.

It’s cold in the alleyway, he shivers. He has no idea what day it is, what week, what month. His stomach, once consistently filled with the privileges of a first-class life, now gnaws with hunger. He’s learning to ignore it. Doesn’t much care anymore if he winds up succumbing from starvation.

He hasn’t seen a reflection of himself in Lord knows how long, but he imagines he looks a mess. He stinks, too, he can smell it coming off himself in waves. The clothes he wears — the clothes off his back when he ran that night, once a fine outfit, now little more than dirty rags — are stained with dirt, blood, sweat. The seed of strangers.

Another wave crashes through him, this time equal parts from chill and tears.

Phillip sobs, alone.

Barnum is frustrated.

He’s seen a dozen acts, maybe twice that, and has yet to recruit a single one.

Phonies, all of them. Amateurs trying to scam a scammer.

There was one woman who claimed to have taught her pet pigeon to sing... more like she wasn’t quite right in the head. A man, about Barnum’s age, who claimed he could see into the future... but only after he was paid a dollar.

Barnum saw that one coming. Yeah, buddy. Give the man a dollar, he’d claim “theft is in your very near future,” and book it.

Honestly, he’s offended that any of these people believed they could make a fool out of him.

There had been one act that seemed promising, a trio of lion tamers. But nobody in that trio could have been above the age of ten, despite the fake mustaches they tried to pass off as real, and even Barnum can’t take children away from their own families. He, himself, is a father, after all.

Besides, he can’t even begin to imagine the outrage if one of those kiddos were hurt by any of his animals.

Barnum sighs, slumps in his train car as they begin to move again. Not for the first time, he regrets not asking someone in the troupe to come along. Lettie would have made good company.

He can only pray for better results at his next stop.

Some days, Phillip wonders why he doesn’t just kill himself.

Deep down, he knows why. When he was a child, he had an uncle — his father’s brother — who’d put the barrel of his own gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Neither of his parents bothered to hide this fact from their son, so he knew right away how his uncle had died.

They didn’t go to his funeral. They didn’t go because Phillip’s father held resentment towards the brother he once (supposedly) loved. Theodore believed that his brother had “taken the coward’s way out.” He said that his brother, his own flesh and blood, would be rotting in Hell for all eternity.

Phillip doesn’t commit suicide because, deep down, he is still afraid of disappointing his father.

So each day drags by and he hopes that hunger might kill him off instead.

Of course, he has never been so lucky.

Barnum whistles as he walks down the street. He is feeling surprisingly merry — he wouldn’t be recruiting anybody until tomorrow, but the people in this city greeted him with a much warmer reception than the liars and the thieves had at his last stop. He’s feeling good, hopeful, that he may be recruiting some talents yet.

Now, after a day touring the city and seeing what there was to see, he’s heading back to the room that he’s rented for the night. As he’d been leaving the shops, he ran into a perfectly sweet, elderly woman who’d given him an apple “for his troubles,” and now he raises the sweet fruit to his mouth, about to take a bite.

Somebody groans.

He stops. Lowers the apple, looks around.

There aren’t many people on the street — it’s a city, yes, though not nearly as busy as his home in New York — and nobody seems to have heard a thing. He’s stopped right outside a dark, empty alleyway.

Barnum shrugs and takes but a single step forward, eager to get on his way.

That groan again.

He stops again, scowls. Looks directly into the alleyway as he calls out, “Is anybody there?”

No response. But, he swears he heard—

Barnum, not even thinking about a potential threat, diverts his path and turns, instead, into the alley. It’s dirty and reeks of piss. He wrinkles his nose, reminded all too well of the many nights he himself slept without a roof over his head.

“Hello?” he calls out. Then, after a beat— “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Again, no response. His frown returns as he scans the alleyway.

It’s getting dark, the sun setting, but he sees it. Right where the orange light meets the shadows, a leg is stretched out just in his line of vision. Barnum grins and approaches eagerly.

The man — or boy, perhaps, Barnum can’t quite tell — recoils as Barnum’s shadow looms over him.

“Please,” he begs, voice cracked and dry, “no more.”

Phillip begins to weep as the man traps him into the corner. His tears mix with dirt and blood and snot.

“Please,” he begs, “no more.”

The man parts his lips, seemingly at a loss for what to say. Phillip doesn’t notice.

“Kill me,” he pleads, voice rising, high and hysterical, “If you’re going to anything, please, just kill me— I can’t— I d-don’t—“

He breaks. He can’t fucking stand it anymore and sobs more than he has in his entire life. His entire body trembles with the force of his tears and he waits, just waiting for the man to hit him or rape him or kill him or—

The man lowers to his knees and reaches out, gently brushing his fingers against Phillip’s cheek.

Phillip screams.

“Hey, hey!” Immediately, the man’s hand falls away and the man backs off. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Phillip’s dry throat burns with the strain of screaming. He sobs.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man repeats. “What’s your name?”

Phillip doesn’t respond. His face is wet, his eyes burn.

“Do you want this?”

The man holds out something red and round. Phillip’s eyes widen, saliva filling his mouth.

An apple.

Can he even remember the last time he’s seen an apple?

Phillip’s eyes flick, hesitantly, up to the man’s face. The man’s face is calm, his eyes soft. They’re... hazel, maybe.

“It’s all right,” the man promises.

Phillip’s hands tremble so much as he takes the apple, he nearly drops it. He closes his eyes as he takes that first bite, apple juice exploding on his tongue. His eyelashes wetten with fresh tears.

“Not too quickly,” the man mumbles. “You don’t want to upset your stomach.”

Phillip tries to slow down, but it’s hard. When there isn’t anything left to the apple but the core, he feels like crying again.

He looks up at the man. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“I’m Phineas,” the man says. He still keeps away from Phillip, makes sure not to touch him. “Can you tell me your name?”

Phillip looks down into his lap as he shakes his head.

“All right, that’s okay.” The man — Phineas — pauses as if considering his next words. “Would you... would you like to come back to my hotel room with me?”

Phillip’s eyes blow wide open. He cries out, shakes his head in alarm as he tries desperately to shrink away. “No, no, please don’t—“

“Not like that!” Phineas is quick to say. “Not like that! I just... thought you’d like a bath. Maybe some more food and water, huh?”

As Phillip settles, his mouth pools with saliva again. That apple was the best thing he’s had in a long time, but he knows it’s not enough.

And... fresh water...

“You... you won’t—“

Phillip doesn’t, can’t, finish that thought, but Phineas seems to know what he’s asking all the same.

“I swear on it.”

Later, Barnum orders them both some meat and vegetable soup. He gets more for the boy than for himself even though he knows that, if the boy has gone a long period of time without a proper meal, and it very much looks as though that may be the case, it’s best to eat in small increments rather than all at once. Still, the boy must be starved and Barnum would rather they have too much food than not enough.

The boy, whose name Barnum still does not know, is in the bathroom. Has been for a long time. He’s on his third bath now — Barnum only knows this because he’s twice asked for a change of water. He is, quite literally, scrubbing himself down. Barnum can only begin to imagine the state of the tub itself... the maids are going to have a field day. Perhaps they’ll be kicked out, never to step foot in this specific hotel again.

At the moment, Barnum doesn’t much care.

He sets to figuring out what his ‘guest’ is going to wear. He can’t very well continue to wear the clothes Barnum had found him in, they’re tattered and filthy.

Filthy with things other than mud.

Barnum winces as he recalls the familiar, damning stains. Barnum isn’t a fool, he can imagine all too well the things the poor boy had been forced to do.

A knock on the door interrupts the man’s whirling thoughts, announcing that their meals have arrived. Suddenly, Barnum is struck with an idea and his eyes brighten. He grabs extra money from his belongings before opening the door.

The person at the door is a pretty young woman, probably a maid, who can’t be any older than her early twenties. He accepts the tray of food with a smile and a thanks, but he stops her with a request before she can move further down the hall.

“Would you mind running into town for me and grabbing an outfit? This should be more than enough for one full set, maybe two.” He gives the young woman the cash and, though he has no way of knowing the boy’s exact measurements, gives her an estimation of his sizes. “Of course, I would be more than happy to tip you upon your return.”

The request is a bit odd, but the young woman agrees with a smile and a, “Yes, sir.” He gives her the money and thanks her before sending her on her way and shutting the door.

With any luck, she’ll be back with an actual outfit. Barnum hopes she won’t just make off with the money... though, he really couldn’t blame her.

Barnum sighs. Fingers crossed, anyway.

He sets the bowls of soup on the table, then pauses. He isn’t sure how long his errand is going to take the woman, realizing that the boy’s soup might get cold.

There’s a small, portable stove in the corner of the room — a luxury that paying extra for nicer hotel rooms provides — and it’s this that Barnum uses to keep the boy’s soup warm.

Then he knocks on the washroom door. Not surprisingly, there’s no answer.

“Are you in there?” Barnum asks.

Silence stretches on for a long time. Finally, he hears a hesitant, “Y-Yes.”

“I’ve got a maid fetching you a fresh set of clothes. There’s soup waiting for you when you’re good and dressed.”

Silence again. Barnum doesn’t think the boy is going to answer... but then he hears an even quieter, “Thank you.”

The man can’t help a smile. “You’re welcome.”

Barnum himself decides that he’s going to go ahead and eat — there’s no telling how long the young woman is going to be with her errand.

He takes his time eating, and there’s a knock on the door when he’s about three quarters of the way through his meal. Somewhat surprised, a wide smile spreads across his face and he gets up to answer it.

The young maid is standing there, true to her word, a bundle of clothes in her arms and a new pair of shoes dangling by her hand. She looks up at him and says, “I couldn’t buy two outfits, but you did have enough left over for a nice overcoat and mittens — it’s starting to get dreadfully cold at night. Ma says we’re in for a bad winter.”

“So we are.” Barnum takes the clothes and the shoes, thanks her, and gives her a generous tip. The girl’s eyes widen slightly — it’s surely more than she makes in an average week.

Before she leaves, Barnum calls out, “May I ask for your name?”

Her cheeks tinge a light pink. “Miss Elizabeth Maywell, sir.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth leaves and Barnum shuts the door. He bends down, places the bundle of clothes with the shoes on top outside the washroom door, and straightens. He knocks again and calls out, “I’ve got a set of clothes here for you. They’re outside the door when you’re ready.”

Then he returns to finish off his meal. He makes it a point to sit with his back to the washroom door and, after a moment, he hears the door creak open and then close again. A few more minutes tick by, and then the door opens.

Barnum turns with a smile. “Your supper is on the—“

His words falter and his eyes widen. Now that the boy is scrubbed clean, seemingly not a speck of dirt or mud on him, he seems... extremely familiar. His hair, once greasy and matted and hanging in his face, is done up in a fresh style, not a lock out of place. His blue eyes seem brighter now that he’s not caked in filth. He’s still extremely thin and pale, dark shadows under his eyes, but...

“I know you!” Barnum exclaims, perhaps a little too loud in his excitement.

The boy — no, now that he’s bathed and dressed, Barnum can see that he is, very much, a man — jumps and looks at Barnum with wide, deer-like eyes.

“Carlyle,” Barnum breathes, “You’re the missing Carlyle boy!”

“Not missing,” the Carlyle boy mumbles. He averts his gaze, looks anywhere but directly at Barnum, “Ran away. And for good reason.”

“What was your name? Pip or Philippe, or—“

“Phillip,” he sighs, “My name... is Phillip. Phillip Carlyle.”

There’s a low grumbling sound and Phillip winces, puts a hand to his stomach. He still won’t look directly at Barnum.

“You need to eat,” Barnum insists. He takes the soup bowl from the stove and sets it on the table. “It should still be plenty warm. I’ll get you some water, too.”

Phillip seems wary as he slowly lowers himself into a chair, looking very much like he’s going to bolt any second.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Barnum states as he pours a glass of water and offers it to Phillip. Phillip hesitates, then takes it.

“I suppose you’re going to tell my parents where I am,” Phillip mutters. Despite the fact that he must — literally — be starving, he simply stirs his soup with a spoon.

“Why would I do that?” Barnum asks.

Phillip looks at him in disbelief.

“If you say you took off for good reason, then I believe it. I won’t contact anyone unless you want me to.”

Phillip stares down at his soup bowl. He doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“You need to eat,” Barnum urges gently.

So Phillip does, and he practically inhales the fresh glass of water like a man who’s been stranded in the Sahara. As soon as he takes his first bite of his first proper meal in... Barnum couldn’t even begin to guess how long... his appetite returns with a vengeance, and he struggles to remember to slow down as he shovels his supper into his mouth. After his first bowl, he finishes the little bit extra they had left over and drinks the broth.

“Good?” Barnum asks.

Wordlessly, Phillip nods. He looks like he might cry again.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“You don’t need to thank me, Phillip.”

As they prepare to sleep for the night, Barnum lends Phillip an extra sleeping gown. He swims in it, the larger gown hanging off his too-skinny shoulders. This seems to embarrass him, and he retreats further back into a frightened shell.

The room, having been one that Barnum booked before stumbling along his surprise houseguest, only has one bed. It’s a double, but Barnum knows better than to get too close to Phillip.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Barnum proposes without being asked. “We’ve got extra blankets and pillows, I’ll be fine.”

Phillip’s voice isn’t anything more than a whisper. “Phineas, I couldn’t ask you to—“

“It’s all right,” Barnum interjects, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places, it’ll be nice and cozy.”

Phillip hesitates, then nods.

Barnum doesn’t miss the fact that he looks relieved.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take very long for them to settle. Barnum, in his nest of blankets and pillows, finds sleep easily even on the floor.

It’s sometime later, still in the dead of night, when Barnum wakes to pitch blackness and overhears Phillip retching in the washroom.

When he first introduced himself as Phineas, Phillip didn’t make the connection right away that he was actually P.T. Barnum of Barnum’s Circus.

After their night spent at the hotel, Phillip reluctantly agreed to go back to New York City with him. It is close to his parents’ old residence, but Phineas swears up and down that he will not throw Phillip to the wolves. So far, he has kept up on that promise.

He also makes no move to touch Phillip. Slowly, Phillip starts to relax, little by little, around him and, after a time, he allows the lightest of touches. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a friendly handshake. Those are okay.

He is allowed at the circus and meets Phineas’s circus acts. Anne and W.D. Wheeler, siblings who can soar through the air as easily as they’ve sprouted wings. Lettie Lutz, the bearded woman with a voice powerful enough to rattle the entire building. Charles Stratton, a misfit-turned-general on a horse whose lack of height is swiftly made up for by his quick wit and sharp tongue.

The circus troupe is more than friendly and accepts him into their circle easily enough. He is grateful for this and, though he is most often quiet around them, has seemed to accept this band of misfits as well.

Deep down, though, he knows he doesn’t belong.

Phineas has brought these people together, turned them into a family. They are beautiful, talented. Have learned to love life despite the things that separate them from the rest of society.

Phillip is the outlier. They don’t treat him as such, but he knows it’s so. He has no talents that are worthy of the circus. He is not outcasted because of how he was born — he is outcasted because he has allowed himself to stray from the path his father laid out for him. He is outcasted because he has been touched, ruined, soiled, by the hand of man, and he did nothing to stop it.

He is outcasted because it is he who gave into temptation in the first place, and it is he who is so foolish that he allowed his own father to catch him.

He doesn’t belong with these people.

And when Phineas Barnum — the bright, brilliant, beautiful man that he is — learns the truth, Phillip will be cast out again.

Thrown to the wolves to pick off what remains of the person he once was.

Though they, thankfully, do not hound Phillip, Barnum is swarmed by questions from his troupe.

Questions about how he found Phillip. About why Phillip was alone in that alleyway. About the state Phillip was in when Barnum stumbled across him. About anything they can do to help.

They are not malicious in nature, but Barnum suspects that Phillip knows he is being talked about.

The most popular question, though, is: Why doesn’t Phillip want to return to his parents?

Barnum has his suspicions, but doesn’t dare voice them to the rest of the troupe. Instead, he simply tells them that why Phillip doesn’t want to return home is Phillip’s business. He’s sure they have more questions, but he advises them against going after Phillip right now. He may think that they’re teaming up against him, and they do not want to make him feel trapped.

Lord knows he’s already had enough of that to deal with.

So the troupe backs off, as per Phineas’s orders, and Phillip seems to relax a little more. Phineas has set him up a little space in the office, and it’s there Phillip waits most nights during shows. He was wary when Phineas first set the shared office up, but now doesn’t seem to mind the shared private space as long as Phineas keeps to his side of the room.

It’s a few weeks after bringing Phillip to the circus for the first time when Phillip says, from his side of the office, “You were incredible out there.”

Barnum, who has settled down to do some paperwork between performances, looks up in surprise. “You saw the show?”

Phillip’s cheeks tinge pink. He pauses, then says, “I... got curious one night. I watch from behind the stands.”

Barnum beams. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. Maybe you can join me out there sometime.”

He doesn’t expect Phillip to laugh. It’s a quiet, reserved sound, a soft chuckle that would be easily lost in the roar of a crowd.

It’s the most beautiful thing Barnum has ever heard.

It scares Phillip when going home with Phineas starts to become a little too familiar, a little too comforting.

And when did he start thinking of Phineas’s estate as “home”?

He still hasn’t told Phineas. Every time he tries to bring it up, he backs out. Phineas doesn’t push him, doesn’t try to force him to answer, but Phillip can see the questions burning behind the man’s eyes. He doesn’t question Phillip, but he wants to.

And Phillip is still too scared of losing all he’s gained.

He knows that, at some point, he has to let the public know that he’s still alive. He can’t keep hiding in Phineas’s house or behind the audience stands forever. But thinking about breaking his silence fills him with a horrific dread, terrible anxiety that, some nights, has him on his knees in a washroom in the dark. Phineas doesn’t know about the panic attacks. He’s been lucky so far — most of them happen while he’s alone in the middle of the night.

He’s scared to tell Phineas why he fled home. Fucking terrified.

But the undeniable, growing, blossoming attraction for the man who swept him away from city alleyways scares him a thousand times more.

It’s not uncommon for Barnum to become restless in the night. He has never been a heavy sleeper, especially thanks to the endless stretches of time on the streets as a young teen, and can often wake at the drop of a hat. When Charity and the girls still lived with him, he was constantly jostled by his wife slumbering aside him or one of his girls seeking water in the early hours of the morning.

Now, it is he who seeks water. He stirs, grunting as he sits up, and clears his throat. Dressed only in his sleeping gown, he thinks nothing of it as he crosses the room (feet bare) and enters the hall.

His houseguest has all but left his mind until they bump into each other on the stairway.

“Oh!” Phillip gasps. He is holding a candle and backs away as not to burn Barnum, nearly tumbling down the stairs as he stumbles on a step. He regains his footing, though the hand holding the candle trembles slightly. “Phineas, I’m sorry.”

Barnum doesn’t pay this any mind. He doesn’t mind Phillip’s rumpled sleeping gown or his messy, untamed hair. Instead, he is focused on Phillip’s face, lit aglow in the candle’s flame, and the tear tracks that travel down his cheeks. “You’ve been crying?”

Phillip stills. He averts his attention to the floor.

Then, in the silence of the stairwell, Barnum shocks them both by admitting, “I often hear you whimpering in the night.”

Phillip looks up, alarmed. His face reddens in the glow of the candle. “I’ve woken you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

Barnum shakes his head. “Always been a restless sleeper. You could get up to wash your face and I’d probably wake. It’s certainly no fault of your own.”

Phillip shakes his head, looks down again. He says nothing.

“Is it the men? Do you have nightmares?” Barnum’s question is quiet, but Phillip stiffens all the same. His head snaps up in alarm and he nearly stumbles backward again, stopped only as Barnum reaches out and steadies him by the arm.

“H-How did you—“

“I’m not a fool, Phillip. I saw the state you and your clothes were in when I first found you. I saw the... stains.”

Phillip doesn’t know what to say. Fresh tears shine in the light of his dying candle.

“And,” Barnum takes a breath. His voice is suddenly shaky, thick with emotion, “I grew up on the streets. When my father died, I was left to fend for myself. I... know what men are capable of.”

Phillip’s gasp is audible.

The weight of Barnum’s confession hangs in the air between them.

“You—“

Barnum’s smile — or grimace, most like — is tight and small. “Yes.”

Phillip inhales sharply. “Does anyone—“

“I used to be married. Charity’s a lovely woman, I’ll have to introduce you sometime. I know she suspected — I never said so in as many words, but... she knew.”

“Phineas,” Phillip breathes out.

Barnum looks at him, eyes like amber honey in the light.

Phillip gulps. Phineas can see something — indecision, maybe — dancing behind his eyes.

“I...” Phillip hesitates. Gulps again.

“I need... I need to talk to you.”

“I knew it was foolish,” Phillip whispers. They sit together in the dim living room, Phillip on one couch and Phineas in his armchair. Phillip absently stirs at the cup of tea Phineas has made him, still so hot that steam rises from the drink. His eyes are an entire world away. “But, bringing those men home, behind my father’s back... it thrilled me, Phineas. It excited me in ways that only alcohol had ever done. I had never... ever... felt that alive in my entire adult life. Perhaps not since childhood.”

His words catch in his throat. He glances down, continues to stir his untouched tea.

“I knew the risks,” he says. “Of course I did. I’m not stupid. My father has always had a temper, and I have never been a son that he could... be proud of. I thought that, if I were caught, he’d disinherit me. Perhaps throw me into an arranged marriage. It’s not unheard of in the aristocracy.”

He cringes. His hands tremble so terribly that he has to set the cup of tea down.

“I’d been with men before, but I’d only been sneaking them home for... a year or so. It was— when my father finally caught me—“

He squeezes his eyes shut.

“He came home early from a black tie dinner with some of his associates. My mother wasn’t with him, she was away visiting her sister. He found... he found us on the couch, with my guest’s hand down my trousers.”

Tears leak from his eyes.

“I‘m not going to betray his name... I hope you understand that. My father... when my father found us, he fled out the back door so quickly that my father never even touched him.”

Shaky exhale.

“I, however, was not so lucky.”

He’s openly weeping.

“My father beat me within an inch of my life that night, Phineas. I still don’t know how I found the energy — pure adrenaline, I suppose — but somehow I made it out the door. I don’t even remember the trip to the train station, but I had just enough money on my person for a ticket out of the city... and that was all.”

Phineas interjects only one time to ask, “You didn’t go to a shelter?”

“They would have asked for identification,” Phillip whispers. “Especially given how beaten and bruised I was. As soon as they knew my name... I couldn’t go back there, Phineas.”

Phillip doesn’t look up when Phineas gets up from his chair and kneels on the floor in front of him. This time, when Phineas slowly reaches out to touch his face, Phillip flinches, but doesn’t scream or pull away.

Nonetheless, Phineas starts to back off the moment he feels Phillip flinch under his touch.

“No,” Phillip whispers, “It’s okay.”

“You didn’t deserve to go through any of that,” Phineas mumbles. Phillip’s face is wet with tears that he wipes away.

This time, Phillip meets his gaze.

“And,” he says, “Neither did you.”

“Phineas,” Phillip mumbles.

“Hmmm?”

“Can I...” There’s a pause. Then, “Can I kiss you?”

Barnum’s eyes widen.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

Phillip nods.

Barnum sucks in a breath.

“Yes.”

With Barnum kneeling on the floor as he is, Phillip sits taller than him. He watches as Phillip’s eyes widen, as if not believing that Barnum actually gave him permission.

Then Phillip leans forward and his lips are feather-soft.

Barnum suspects that Phillip is holding himself back, still restrained by trauma and uncertainty, but he doesn’t care. Phillip’s mouth is soft and sweet, the push of his lips warm against Barnum’s own, and Barnum responds to the kiss just as tenderly. It’s not a long kiss, but very well could have lasted a lifetime.

Phillip’s eyes are wide when the kiss breaks, and Barnum can feel the smile, equally as wide, pulling at his mouth.

“Wow,” Phillip breathes.

Barnum can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “Good?”

Blushing, Phillip ducks his head and nods.

Barnum’s wide grin softens into a a tender smile as he stands and offers a hand. “Come on,” he says, “it’s late. We should be getting back to bed.”

Phillip starts to take his hand, then hesitates.

“It’s all right. You can go back to your own room.”

Phillip visibly relaxes and takes Barnum’s hand. When he stands, he brushes his lips lightly against Barnum’s cheek, and it’s Barnum’s turn to flush pink.

“Thank you.”

Phillip is certain that last night was a dream.

But when he stumbles down the stairs and into the kitchen at five past ten, Phineas is there waiting for him. He sets his mug — coffee, probably — on the countertop and opens his arms.

Phillip stares at him only a moment.

Then he stumbles into Phineas’s arms and envelops himself into Phineas’s scent.

The first few times they kiss, Barnum lets Phillip initiate them. They’re soft and sweet, unsure at first, but each one growing with a confidence that Barnum has never before seen in the boy.

The first time that Barnum kisses Phillip, it’s after a show at the circus. They’re behind the audience stands, alone save for each other, and Barnum is high off the thrill of another successful performance. He kisses Phillip, unaware he’s even doing it until their mouths are pressed together, lips warm and slightly chapped.

He backs away immediately, apology ready at his tongue, but Phillip only shakes his head and pulls him closer by the lapels of his coat. Barnum sighs into Phillip’s mouth and Phillip tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of Barnum’s neck.

Here, it is just the two of them.

Here, in this moment, Barnum feels he would do anything to keep Phillip safe.

There’s an unspoken, unofficial agreement between them that sex is off the table — for now.

Phillip isn’t ready. Isn’t sure he’ll ever be, though he hasn’t dismissed the idea completely. He just... can’t. Not now, but perhaps later.

Phineas understands. They don’t often speak of Phineas’s own experiences at the hands of scumbags during his own time on the streets, but Phineas does confide in Phillip one night. They’re lying together in Phineas’s bed (Phillip doesn’t sleep there, not yet, but has spent many nights on the cusp of sleep only for Phineas to carry him back to his own room) when Phineas quietly admits that it took him a few years to feel comfortable enough to lie with a woman. Even then, he has only done so a couple of times.

And was gifted two lovely little girls out of it.

The rest of the night is spent with Phineas telling Phillip stories of his daughters, and those stories bring a bright smile to Phillip’s face. He’s in the middle of a story about how Caroline and Helen tried to bring home a black and white “kitty,” only to discover that it was actually a skunk, when he cuts himself off and chuckles.

Phillip can barely keep his eyes open.

“Time to get you to bed, huh?”

Phineas shifts off the bed and starts to scoop Phillip up. Phillip shakes his head and slaps lightly at Phineas’s arm.

“No, no.”

Phineas pauses, confused. “Hmm?”

Phillip looks up at him. “Wanna stay here... with you, Phineas.”

“Are you certain?”

Phillip nods. Phineas smiles and lowers him, tucking him into bed.

Phillip is already slipping off into unconsciousness as Phineas mumbles, “Good night, darling. Sleep well.”

Barnum cannot describe the feeling of waking up with Phillip in his arms.

He’d stirred awake a few times in the night. Being a terribly light sleeper, he wasn’t accustom to having someone who wasn’t Charity sleeping beside him. But it’s here, now, with the early morning light shining through the window, when he truly pauses and relishes in the feeling of having Phillip pressed up against him.

When Barnum wakes, they’re face-to-face. Phillip has practically burrowed into his chest, one hand clutching tight at his nightshirt. Barnum smiles and plays with his hair.

He isn’t sure how much time passes. Normally, he’d be up and moving about, ready to start the day early, but he doesn’t move out of place with Phillip beside him. It could have been mere minutes or it could have been an hour or two later when Phillip stirs, sighs, and opens his eyes.

He startles when they make eye contact and pulls away from Barnum, hand falling from the nightshirt. But then he visibly relaxes and Barnum smiles as Phillip pulls him closer again. Phillip’s eyes flutter shut as Barnum brushes his lips against Phillip’s forehead.

“How’d you sleep?” he murmurs against Phillip’s skin.

“Mmm... all right. I dreamed of you.”

“Did you?” Barnum smiles.

“Mhm...” Suddenly, Phillip tenses and his tone changes as he makes eye contact. “...Phineas?”

“Hmm?”

“I think... I think I’m ready.”

“Ready?” Barnum echoes. He props himself up on an elbow, looks at Phillip. Soft, dark hair curls out from the neckline of his sleeping gown.

“I think I’m ready,” Phillip whispers, “To... speak to a reporter.”

A few days later, they decide it’s best to meet with Mr. Bennett at the circus rather than Phineas’s home.

There are no shows that day so the building is mostly deserted. There are a few acts around, Phineas usually keeps the building open for informal rehearsals, but they’re able to wait alone in the front entryway. Every once in awhile, they can hear distant laughter of the rehearsing performers.

They sit in two chairs, so close their legs brush together. Phillip’s heart is thundering in his ears and his breath has started to come out in short, uneven gasps.

“Hey,” Phineas murmurs. He rests his hand on Phillip’s knee, gives him a reassuring squeeze, “Everything is going to be fine. Bennett’s a hardass, but he’ll hear you out.”

Phillip’s laugh comes out high and shrill. He turns and kisses Phineas, quick and desperate. Phineas holds him close, keeps him steady. His hands are a soft, stabilizing pressure on Phillip’s face.

“Phineas,” Phillip whispers when the kiss breaks, “Phineas I think I, I—“

“Don’t say anything you don’t want to,” Phineas warns.

Phillip shakes his head. “I... I don’t know what this feeling is that I have for you, Phineas. I think it might be love.”

Phineas smiles and presses a kiss between Phillip’s eyes.

“I love you, too, darling,” Phineas whispers. He squeezes Phillip’s hand.

Phillip smiles at him and feels the tears pooling in his eyes. But he can’t do or say anything more — there’s a loud, sharp rap at the door.

Phineas smirks. “That most be our favorite reporter.”

They stand.

“Are you ready, darling?” Phineas asks. He squeezes Phillip’s hand once more before falling away.

Phillip nods once, gulps. His voice comes out in a whisper, but it’s steady and doesn’t falter.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

end

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haelroyale · 5 years ago

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How to Deal With Stress Positively

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How to Deal With Stress Positively

How to deal with stress positively

First off, before we get into how to deal with stress positively, I want to just debunk the misconception that anxiety is an unavoidable aspect of living. I do not think that. I decide not to believe that because even though stress is widespread, everyone here has probably experienced stress in life.

Life can be stressful at times. I believe that if you meditate, you will have the ability to achieve a little state of zen in which you are so so present you’re never stressed.

I think that it is likely to exist much more worry-free and longer stress-free. Don’t believe that stress is unavoidable because it is avoidable.

Today I’m going to share some tips on how to deal with stress positively. My first tip on how to deal with stress positively is to:

1) Take a shower or a bath.

There is a definite feeling about cleansing yourself, which also cleanses yourself emotionally. It washes your energy by removing those impurities away. It relaxes you.

Also, make sure to hydrate and drink lots of water, then a bath or shower, and you will feel so much better.

2) Be present.

You notice that, once you’re stressed, you’re usually feeling stressed or apprehensive about the future since it’s unsure.

You are unsure whether you are gonna pass this test, or you’re uncertain whether something is definitely going to be a certainty, and that may drive us mad if we allow it to.

But when you’re in the now, you’re focused on whatever’s in front of you. And in case you haven’t noticed: You can always handle the present moment.

So whatever obstacle is happening in your own life, if it’s the situation you are in at the moment, you are going to deal with it.

But usually, we are worried because we are attempting to deal with the problem which has not happened yet. It’s later on. That’s what’s causing the stress.

Know your power is here in the present moment. It is possible to think of the time you had a test in school coming up, and you were anxious about it.

You were really stressed out preparing or studying, or perhaps procrastinating made you stressed out. But when you’re really there taking the exam, you are not stressing out.

You are focused, you’re flowing. You are like, Okay, allow me to figure out this. Let me do this…” You’re solving the issue facing you.

Stress is a trick your brain plays on you before anything is actually happening. Stress is your anticipation, not the activity. Concentrate on the job in an instant, and you’ll be okay.

3) Brain dump.

Write it all down. When you journal all of your thoughts out, worries, and anxieties, you notice what is causing your stress, and you see how silly some of your concerns or fears maybe.

This may help you feel more clear then, so you’re not in your head all the time. You’ll be able to organize your thoughts a bit when you view it down on paper.

You might give yourself advice in your journal session. Usually, I only help myself when I am journaling it out. I’m worried about this, or I am concerned about that.

But also: this, this, and this. It’s okay because of this, this, and this. That means that you can use journaling as a tool to alleviate your anxiety, to inform yourself that it is going to be okay.

You might also utilize this session to assist you in planning out those future actions to help you escape this situation. You can use it as productive time, plan for your next baby steps, and see what beliefs or thoughts are holding you back.

Really use it to get clear. The fourth step on how to deal with stress positively is:

4) Talk to someone and get help.

Sometimes you want an outsider’s view to have the ability to understand your situation clearly. Speaking to a trusted friend or therapist can help you set you at ease and alleviate your tension and anxiety and feel in peace.

A fantastic resource to get connected with a licensed therapist online is BetterHelp.

BetterHelp is for cheap, personal counseling. Their website and the app offer access to accredited, trained, and certified counselors and therapists so that they can get assistance anytime, anywhere.

How it works is they pair you with a counselor who is right for you. You’ll be able to find a description of your therapist, their specialties, years of expertise, and reviews from other clients too.

If you don’t vibe with the one that you got, you may always change the therapist you have. In my situation, I was matched by BetterHelp the same day, and we scheduled a live video conversation.

So that was my very first experience with speaking to a therapist. And at the very first session, it was refreshing to have the ability to talk about anxieties and my issues frankly.

I cried a lot in the first session, which I ultimately did not anticipate. But it’s just been really healing and another experience to try.

In case you’re interested, definitely, check out BetterHelp because it’s so accessible and straightforward to utilize.

5) Detach yourself from the outcome and trust the process.

Understand in life you’ll find things that you can control and items that you can’t control. And it is useless, and it is a waste of time to focus and worry about matters that are outside of your control.

Therefore concentrate which you can get a handle on. Do your best and discharge your control of the outcome. Consider having this fresh perspective.

When you don’t care what happens, you are living more carefree, you have zero expectations. Whatever happens, happens.

The idea is that life will simply take you in these directions. You’ll have challenges, and sometimes, however, everything placed before you in life, everything is given for you, is there to allow you to grow, to help you learn, to gain strength.

So expect that whatever is in front of you is whatever you need to grow. A comfortable life isn’t real, there isn’t any simple life, there isn’t any ideal life.

Bad things are gonna happen. Challenges are gonna happen. So as long as you have the mindset: I am just going to perform my best and not care about the outcome. I’m here to learn, you’ll be okay.

6) Meditate

Meditation should be done every day as it’s one of the foundation habits, one of being more stress-free, carefree, joyful in the life of the main hints.

It has so many benefits. If you were able to meditate 5 minutes daily, you would feel the benefits of a sound mind and a centered soul.

Meditation is learning to realign with your soul and softening the noise around you, and remembering that your soul within, it’s always still, it’s always secure.

Your soul is invincible. So meditation is a reminder to come back to that and realize that everything around is just temporary.

It’s not going to stay like that forever. Anyway, if it’s difficult for you to meditate, you can definitely try guided meditations like Calm or Headspace. Or you could try spa music.

I really like Spotify spa music in the background sometimes, just because it’s so relaxing. There’s also a quote that I heard once that really stuck with me, something like: “Fifteen minutes of meditation a day is essential. If you are busy, then an hour is necessary.”

I actually think that’s a quote that keeps coming up in my meditation app Zenfriend. But anyway, it’s super accurate that you should meditate every day, but if you are busier or if you are more stressed, then you should meditate longer.

I know it’s counter – when you’re busy, you’re like, “I don’t have time for meditation.” But when you are working is when you need it most.

7) Take care of yourself.

Take care of your body, your health, your well-being. Don’t forget that self-care always comes first, because you have to be okay to function in everyday life.

So make sure you’re eating healthy, drinking a lot of water, getting enough sleep. It really is the basics. And I know that when we’re busy or stressed, we tend to sacrifice things like that.

We tend to cut sleep, we tend to eat unhealthy because it’s more convenient. But when you’re busy, that’s actually the time that you need those things more.

The busier you are, the more you own it to yourself to take care of yourself. Lastly, I want to leave you guys with a quote that I really like.

It’s by Dale Carnegie: “Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.”

That just means that, when you’re feeling stressed, anxious, worried, which are all versions of fear, it means that it’s all happening in your head.

And the best thing that you can do to get out of that state is to simply take action. To my point of being present, focus on what you can do right now in the present moment and do your best.

That’s the best that you can do. And when you start to take action, you will feel like – the fear dissolves because you’re so focused on what you’re doing.

So when you just sit home, and you’re just thinking, of course, you’re gonna feel stressed and scared. But when you’re taking action, you feel more confident, and you have more courage and bravery to keep going and to just get things done.

So I send you guys all of that positive energy, all of that just-do-it energy. And I hope that whatever stress you’re going through right now, that you just take a step back from your life, appreciate it for what it is, be grateful for everything that you have, and just relax.

We all need to just appreciate the beauty. After you do that, focus on what’s in front of you and get to work. I hope these tips on how to deal with stress positively have helped you in some way. Thank you for stopping by and have a blessed day!

Check out our article on how to get something off your mind

#how to deal with stress positively

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soothsayercharacternotes · 5 years ago