#I was reading books everyday and I had so much creative energy to write

[voltronisanobsession]

I know I’ve said it a thousand times but imma try and go through my inbox because i have over 40 things sitting in there💀

Like they probably forgot about their asks but I’m gonna power through and post them when I’m done writing all of them🙏

I need to finish them before I start school in the fall but I think I could do it😍😍

[medicatedandcaffeinated]

Impostor Syndrome

For the past several months I’ve been on a bit of a roll with my writing. My story has exceeded 77k words which is a lot for me since I struggle with allowing myself to write. I also struggle with showing people my work. As of right now there is only one person I’ve felt comfortable showing my story to because I’ve been burned for my passions in the past by people who didn’t care about my well-being.

I have a lot of worries as a writer. I worry about everything. My pacing, my plot and character development, my dialogue, my personal progress in the story, what the ending will be and when it will be. When I get lost in those worries I feel deflated in my ability to write.

The friend that I show my writing to called my story a “slice of life” type story. I don’t know why but my brain translated that to “boring” which propelled me into a implosive dissociative panic attack at the idea that my story that I’ve put so much time and energy is possibly boring. Is this what my friend meant at all? No. Her favorite genre is slice of life so she was actually paying me a compliment but I was so caught up in the idea of writing for other people that I completely lost my grip on what it meant to write for myself. I also completely lost sight of the fact that I haven’t written fantasy in literal years. I’ve been writing short story literary fiction which is like the professional term for slice of life I think.

There was a period of time I wrote pages and pages everyday. One story after the other like a machine. In middleschool I was approached by an agent who wanted to publish my work—I was working on a book at the time—and she told me to call her whenever I finished my book so we could start the process of publishing, editing, contracts, etc. I had had several meeting with her but after the meeting where things got serious and we started to seriously talk about publishing where there was talk about time frames and due dates I stopped writing. I didn’t just stop working on the book I’d been writing. I stopped writing short stories. I stopped writing fanfiction. I wrote essays for school just because I had to, but other than that my creative capacity for writing had completely dried up. Then my adhd symptoms got bad and I stopped reading. I went from reading three books a week to nothing. I only wrote when I had to and only read when I had to. I stopped reading and writing (for my own passions) when I was 13. Around 15 I made everything worse by giving my life to cannabis. My adhd was diagnosed when I was 20 and I didn’t start treatment until several months later. I didn’t read a book of my own choice and volition until I was 21 years old and it took me a year to complete it. I remember being so extremely proud of myself for exploring what used to be a major part of my life that my addiction and learning disabilities had taken from me. I did start story boarding but only in a half assed way. When I was 22 I started writing short stories and I chose to get sober.

I have made a significant amount of progress and I acknowledge that but I still have a lot of damage control to do and I have to give myself the space and patience to do so. I am a writer even if only one person has read my work. I’m a writer even if no one reads my work. I don’t need to be published. I don’t need to have degrees. It’s okay that I make a lot of mistakes. It’s okay to be bad at proofreading, spelling, grammar and punctuation. I write because it’s something I’m passionate about. I write because I enjoy the feeling of world building. I’m not pretending to love writing. I’m not pretending to write. It doesn’t matter what genre it is and it doesn’t matter the marketability. That’s not what’s important. My passion is what’s important and in need to remember that.

[animamosaic]

Years and years ago, like a decade, I tried to create a group with friends to share our art. Writing, drawing, singing, painting, ceramics-- Whatever, if it was creative I wanted us to share it. But, it was specifically a "bad art" group. That is, I didn't want it to be a group where we gave advice or talked about what was wrong with our art. This wasn't a workshop, no constructive criticism welcome.

I know a lot of people who are professional artists in some capacity; and a lot who make art as a hobby but never share it, like it's a secret, in part because they compare it to professional art of people we know. I'm one them in both categories, I'm pretty confident in showing any of my theatre related stuff, I love people coming to shows because my shows are great. But I cringe at sharing my drawings, I only sing at karaoke with very specific songs, my confidence in my writing swings wildly.

I wanted a group where we could share our art without worrying about how unskilled it is. I wanted us to receive praise and acknowledgement just for creating. We all want that, want to share what we make and share the joy of creating something. The joy of bringing something from your mind into the world. But the fear of ridicule, the fear of being bad at something in view of others, is paralyzing.

This would have been a group we could show the bad painting we spent 2 hours on that we had fun making, and we would all say, "That's so cool! I love that you made this! I can tell that you put a lot of thought into your color choices! This poem is so personal, I can tell it means a lot. Thank you for letting me read it!"

But the overall response was extremely negative. It was hostile. Why would they do that?? Why would they show people something and not immediately reassure people that they were trying to be better? Why would they spend time on something that couldn't be picked apart and polished? They weren't going to admit to anyone that they WASTED time like that! Why would they make art that they could never hustle for a career?! Who does that?!

It was like I'd suggested something immoral. Make something bad just for the fun of it? Art that couldn't be put in a gallery? Writing that people might laugh at? Might as well kick puppies, it would be the same use of your time.

It was so weird. It was beyond demoralizing. The few friends that had expressed interest apologized for even thinking of wasting time and energy like that.

And I really internalized that. That it was wrong, bad, of me to spend time on something just for fun. Spend time on something I'd never be good at. If I wasn’t constantly striving for perfection I was committing a crime. There are a lot of things I never picked up again because of how people react when I'm not good at it.

I like plucking at instruments, but I'm never going to be a good musician. I don't have the coordination or timing. If people find out though? All I hear is how much I need to practice, how I NEED to spend hours each day to be good. Why am I not good enough to book shows yet? Have I been practicing? I don't want to practice, I just want to make noise. Similarly I can paint for hours everyday, and I'll improve a little, but I'm never going to be objectively good. I stopped making art for a long time because I hated advice on how I should improve. Just let me play with paint.

I know other people do this. We are social creatures, we like sharing. It's always nice to have people make happy noises when you share something. Art doesn't need a point. We shouldn't have to defend our creations by adding, "I know it's not good. I'm trying to be better! I swear I'm not wasting time, someday I'll be able to make money from this!" We aren't bad people because we don't know color theory, or how to properly shade a nose, or what the fuck semicolons are for.

I've been trying to deprogram myself of this, to stop qualifying everything with, "I know this sucks". To let myself make stuff that I know will be bad, just because I want to. Trying not to panic about being a bad person because I wasn't spending the time on something productive like washing the dishes or making money.

I have a lot of days where I can’t really do anything now, so I just sit and think. And I’ve found myself thinking, “I could draw”, and then immediately shutting that down. Because I’m bad at drawing. I’m sitting here in pain, with the possibility that I could lose control of my limbs in the near future, and I’m worried about drawing badly. I’ve spent years not doing something that brings me joy, and now I could lose that.

Make bad art. I already love it, because you made it.

Here’s a self portrait I did the other night. I didn't use MS paint, but I might as well have. I’m very happy with it. I’m not going to improve at all.

[hnychn]

𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀 [𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍]

summary : armin stood on the beaches shore as the salty breeze cradled his face, and his mind could only wander to you.

warnings : character death, mentions of blood

word count : 2300+

a/n : i am so sorry to armin for writing this, but i love him sm

navigation || attack on titan masterlist

"Let's see the sea together, Armin!"

Armin got off his horse and relished in the feeling of the salty ocean breeze cradling his face, and his mind could only wander to you. 

The two of you grew up together. Your mother had introduced you to a shy blonde boy when you were younger, he hid behind his grandfather’s leg with only half of his face showing, but it was enough for you to see his brilliant blue eyes. There was something about them that gave you hope, despite his timid and recluse nature, whenever you looked into his eyes you felt like you could take on the world. 

It was easy becoming his friend, especially after you found him reading one of your favorite books in an alley. The two of you bonded over your shared interest in books, admittedly Armin had a stronger interest than you and would often ramble for hours about the plot of books and the underlying meanings behind characters and their developments, but the shine in his eyes whenever he spoke filled you with a feeling your seven year old mind couldn’t put a word to; but if there was one thing clear to you, it was that you liked the feeling. And you’d do anything to feel it until your last dying breath. 

Eren and Mikasa were another easy addition to your duo. It was easy for you to bond with Mikasa over your shared protection over the two boys, and Eren was overall an easy person to get along with. Armin introduced the idea of seeing the sea to Eren one afternoon near the river during sunset.

Armin had brought the book he borrowed from his grandfather and told Eren all about the beauties of the outside world, the same excited blush and shiny blue eyes filled with hope and wonder on his face when he told you the exact same. 

Of course, Eren hadn’t believed the ocean was filled with salt, and neither had you. It seemed too far fetched for a body of water as large as Armin claimed to be filled with never ending salt. But the excitement and hope in his eyes stopped you from arguing with him, only nudging Eren with your elbow, a cheeky smile on your face. 

“C’mon now Eren, you’re telling me you don’t believe in that when there’s literal titans walking around our world?” 

Eren only scoffed and nudged you back a bit harder, “Well it’s better than believing dead people become butterflies.” 

Your ears burned in embarrassment as you crossed your arms, a pout on your lips as you sent Eren a half hearted glare out of the corner of your eyes, turning back to the sunset the two of you were watching, “I happen to like believing in it very much.” 

Eren shrugged, “what was the story again?” 

You smiled, “My mother told me our souls are all butterflies and when we die, they’re set free into the world. She said that when a loved one dies, their butterfly will come visit you to say goodbye before flying away and they visit you again when you need it the most.” 

Armin stared at you as you retold the story for the millionth time; but no matter how many times you told it, he always paid close attention. Your eyes would shine brightly and there would be a smile on your face he rarely ever saw, so every time you would smile, he committed it to his memory until the next time he saw it. He never told you, but he believed in the story too, sometimes he finds himself wishing he had told you.

The four of you joined the Training Corps together after Wall Maria had fallen and later the Survey Corps. There were many hardships and surprises as the four of you fought for the freedom of humanity and raised in the ranks of the military. 

You teased Eren relentlessly after everyone found out he was a titan, which only led to play fights and roughhousing in the middle of the Mess Hall. Mikasa never broke these fights apart and Armin stopped worrying about either of you getting hurt, they knew this was your own curious way of encouraging the other to fight their hardest. 

But it was during the retaking of Wall Maria that changed everything. 

Before everything had started, you and Armin snuck out in the middle of the night to stare at the stars and just talk. Peaceful moments like those were few and far between, the weight of jsjdf weighing heavy on both of you. 

“What color do you think the ocean is?” 

You never looked away from the stars above you, your head tilting to the side at Armin’s sudden question. You could feel the build up of hesitation in your chest as your mind went to war of how to answer. Would you allow yourself to speak with your heart and answer his question truthfully? 

You shrugged, “Maybe it’s clear like the rivers.”  

You could tell Amrin was a bit dissatisfied at your less than creative answer, you were disappointed in yourself. You should have been honest. Perhaps you’ll tell him what color you think the ocean is after you retake Wall Maria. 

It all went to hell. Most of Hange’s squad had died when Barthold had turned into the colossal titan and you had been heavily injured when you pushed Sasha out of the way of Reiner’s attack. Nobody had been able to get to you fast enough, and you felt your bones crack when you collided with the ground. 

You heard your friends call out to you, Mikasa’s voice louder than the rest, and your body ached for rest, but you got up. You refused to die by the hands of a traitor. 

You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not after promising Armin to see the sea together. So you fought on. You fought against Reiner, the screeching of your nearly destroyed gear fed into the dizziness you felt from the impact; you fought against the ache in your bones and soul that pleaded for you to stop, to rest; you fought against the pull of your body into unconsciousness, you couldn’t pass out, not here; you fought against the searing pain you felt when you were once again slammed into a building, your body meeting the familiar crunch of the ground; you fought against the tug of your eyelids and the sleep that threatened to consume you whole and never give you back. 

You fought against it all - for Armin. 

The rest of the squad continued to fight, sparing you glances every now and then, but they fully expected you to get up again. They knew you were a fighter -  knew you had plans for after they retake Wall Maria - but after agonizingly long minutes of your body laying still on the blood stained floor, blood of your own beginning to pool around you, panic set in. 

Mikasa was at your side in an instant after a desperate call of your name. You hadn’t responded. When she got to you, she could hear your shallow, desperate attempts to fill your lungs with air, only to choke on the blood pooling in your throat. Hastily placing her hands against the gaping wound on your stomach, she tried to stop the bleeding, her eyes hazy with unshed tears and fear for your life. 

You could just about make out her figure above you through the combination of the bright sun blinding you and the haziness of sleep threatening to overtake you. 

“C’mon, y/n, stay awake.” Her voice was muffled, almost as if your head was underwater, “don’t die, don’t die, don’t die.” 

Weakly, your hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling slightly to remove her hands from your wound. She shook her head, her tears now falling in clumps down her face, landing on your blood stained cheek, “You can’t die.” 

You smiled up at her. She had always cared for you like a mother would, making sure you were fed, making sure you were safe, making sure you were loved. It brought you comfort, especially now that your gasps became louder and your heart pounded loudly in your ears from the lack of oxygen. You would have preferred not to be in this situation at all, every memory you had since birth flashing before your eyes as your body grew cold, but her presence made the process just a bit easier. 

Your eyelids bobbed as you tried to keep them open, but your energy was fading and so was your life, and the only thing you could think to say to the girl sobbing above you, pleading for you to just stay with her was, “thank you.” 

Mikasa could only sob harder as your grip on her wrist went limp and your eyes dulled. She sobbed for her lost friend, the friend she swore to protect the moment she laid eyes on you. She sobbed for Armin, and she couldn’t bear the image of his reaction to your death. 

It was only after the fight, after Armin had been turned into a titan to save him, did Mikasa feel a foreign clump in her pocket. Her hands were still stained with your blood, but she pulled it out nonetheless. It was a letter.

 A letter addressed to Armin. 

Armin pulled out the worn paper from this pocket of his trousers. The edges were frayed and the paper browned with age, but he still kept it. 

Dear Armin, 

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t survive the battle. As I’m writing this, you’re asleep next to me, having fallen asleep on the roof during one of your star gazing nights. Nights like these are what keep me going. Everyday before an expedition, I always think back to these moments, and they fill me with determination to experience another with you. 

But tonight was different. You asked me what color I think the ocean is. I laughed and said I had no clue, they were probably clear like the rivers. I lied. I don’t think the ocean is clear like the rivers. It’s blue. 

I say that because whenever I think of the ocean, I think of you. I think about how you always get excited to tell someone about the outside world and what that book your grandfather had hidden said. I think about how blue your eyes look when you talk about it, and how they shine with such brilliance and hopefulness to see it for yourself. I think about how deep and emotion filled they are, how some parts of your eyes are a darker blue than others, how they change shades depending on your mood or the lighting. 

How they fill me with a feeling that terrifies me. 

I know I probably shouldn’t write this, especially if you do end up reading this because it might cause you more pain than my actual death, but I’m going to be selfish for once, and I hope you can forgive me. 

Armin, I love you. 

And I know that’s such a shitty thing to say in a letter you’ll receive after my death, but I do. I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I’ve felt like this since the moment I met you when we were seven, but I couldn’t figure out why my tummy felt all weird around you. It was when we got into the Training Corps, we were doing hand to hand combat training and you gave me a big hug later that night, proud of yourself for finally being able to take down your opponent. It was then that I could figure out what I was feeling. And it terrified me. Because there we were, training to give our lives to humanity, training to fight against the very beings that took our families from us. 

 And, call me selfish, but i don’t think I could heal from losing you, but I know you can heal from losing me. So I didn’t tell you. I lived with this secret for years, and sometimes I felt like telling you and getting this weight off of my chest, but just the image of you not coming back from an expedition plagued my mind, and I never could tell you. 

Do you remember the story I told you? The one about the butterflies? I hope you do, because I’ll be visiting you and you better not squish me, or I’ll haunt you. 

I’m sorry I broke my promise. I’m sorry we couldn’t see the sea together. Maybe in another life, where we don’t have to worry about titans or being eaten or fighting for our lives and our freedom - maybe then, we can see the sea together. 

Forever yours, 

    Y/N L/N

A teardrop fell on the browning paper. Armin hadn’t even realised he was crying. After he woke up on top of the newly reclaimed Wall Maria, he first inquired about you, hoping to celebrate taking back your hometown with him. That’s when Eren told him everything. Armin was sure he had never cried as much as he did then, never felt pain as painful as losing you. 

They were able to recover your body, Mikasa made sure they did. Armin only sobbed harder when he held your hand, its usual comforting warmth replaced with a coldness that still haunts him, even three years later. 

Mikasa and Eren stood a few paces behind him, giving him some space to take everything in while they reminisced about their own memories of you. 

The salty breeze of the ocean cradled his face, and his salty tears tasted bitter against his tongue. He felt something soft flutter against his cheek, and gasped when he saw a blue butterfly land on the frayed end of your letter. Armin smiled for the first time in a while. 

“I guess you were right, y/n. . . the ocean is blue.” 

The salty breeze of the ocean cradled his face and the butterfly flapped its wings and flew off after a strong gust of wind. Armin was a bit sad to see it go, but he smiled nonetheless. 

Because he knew, you had seen the ocean, too.

a/n: sorry if it doesn't make sense in some parts this is my first time writing a full imagine work thing, and actually publishing it, so i'm a bit worried this hadn't come out the way i wanted it to. either way, i hope you all enjoyed this :)

[eyesaremosaics]

So much on my mind lately. Things are mostly calm. I’m worried about my brother, he’s suicidal. My grandfather has covid, so that’s been a worry. I’m trying not to put my energy into fear. Times are tough for everyone right now. Truthfully I have been more fortunate than most. Feeling immense gratitude for all the things I do have. Yet it’s hard not to long for another life in these days.

Does anyone else feel like the hits just keep on coming? Now I understand what my mentor was trying to tell me. That life doesn’t get easier, it just gets harder, but I swear it didn’t used to be this hard.

Lately I’ve been drawing, writing, and listening to books on tape. I try to read when I can, but I’m always so busy working that I rarely get any time to myself. I’m always busy tending to other people and their needs, I forget to indulge the things I used to enjoy. I loved reading. I used to paint often, and journal all the time. My boyfriend and I had a recent disconnect, where he needed space to pursue his hobbies, and his words and manner towards me insinuated that I was a stage five clinger, which anyone who knows me—will tell you isn’t true. I’ve always been incredibly independent, so much so that most people couldn’t picture me with a boyfriend when I was a teenager. “You’re too independent, I just can’t see you with a boyfriend.”

Not that I didn’t love totally and deeply. I most certainly did. However the person I loved was always pushing me to create. He found creativity to be a much more useful way to spend one’s time, and as deeply as I loved him, more than anything I wanted to be like him. Instead of waiting for the prince to come save me, I was the prince, and I went around saving others. If only I had thought to save myself.

Through loving others so deeply, I have discovered this level of empathy to be detrimental. Recent events have brought up a lot of heavy lessons that I thought I had already learned. So many of my relationships were abusive, and as a result, I became a very damaged person, and probably—unconsciously— impacted others. We are all guilty of this in some way or another. Taking accountability and making conscious choices in the future to be different, is the only way forward. We all have dark and light inside of us.

To return to my original point, somewhere along the line, I went from being a staunchly independent and intellectually curious young woman, to this drab, listless extension you see before you. That’s got to change.

Things I’m proud of:

-I quit using cocaine and alcohol to cope with my trauma.

I ran from myself for years. Hid inside the bottle, gained all this weight, and became a person I didn’t like. A petulant martyr going around complaining about how bitterly unfair my life had been. Until one day I saw that it was a choice. Staying stuck in it, rolling around in my misery—was a choice. It took being confronted with chronic illness, for me to make this shift. Facing one’s own mortality, is a wake up call. I abused my own body with drugs and alcohol, to the same degree in which I was abused. Poured poisin into myself, and now I must suffer the long term effects. My body literally burning itself out from the inside with stomach acid.

But I quit. My relationship to recreational substances has changed completely. I don’t need them to have fun. I like to get a little buzz from cannabis or one to two drinks max (usually only have one or two drinks on the weekends), but I’m able to stop after that! I never had that level of control before. I quit smoking years ago. I don’t do hard drugs, only psychedelics (and that’s a once a year type deal). These are pleasures to be indulged once in a while, but I don’t need them everyday. How liberating that feels.

Also my health crisis led me to stick to my healthy diet. I lost a ton of weight. I run everyday, and do yoga a few times a week. I’m in the best physical shape since my early twenties. I fit into a vintage dress with a size 26in waist last weekend! It feels great to see the rewards of living healthy.

I have a wonderful man in my life, we live together in our cute little one bedroom apartment here in the city, and somehow we don’t get sick of each other. We were only dating for three months when covid hit. We spent every day together, unable to go anywhere or do anything, but we inspire each other to sharpen our skills, learn new hobbies, watch new material. I love his thirst for knowledge, he re-instilled the same fire in me again. One that had long since gone out.

For many years I was performing, doing shows constantly, going to classes, shooting on set, or working. I was always busy with a very active social life. Covid has been hard on those who love to gather. My identity was so wrapped up in being a performer. I forgot I had other talents too... like painting and drawing. Here I am forcing myself to write, even though it is not very good, and is all interior monologue—it is ideas flowing onto the page again. Every step forward should be encouraged because it is so easy to stagnate these days.

What have you all been doing in terms of self improvement?

[emilykinncy]

Normily My Caffeine Withdrawal Podcast episode (transcript of certain parts)

EK intro: I first met Norman Reedus working on The Walking Dead of course. Over the course of my four seasons on our show, I got to know Norman better and better and we became good friends. And in a sort of interesting parallel, our characters storylines also became more intertwined within the show. Norman is so special, he seems to have endless amounts of creative energy that I find incredibly inspiring. He also has great taste in music and coffee which makes him a perfect guest for this podcast. Welcome back to My Caffeine Withdrawal, I am so incredibly excited to share this episode with all of you today. Norman has so many fans and I know this to be true because everyday someone in my life or someone on social media asks me ‘hey, how was it working with Norman? What is Norman Reedus like?’ Well, now today you guys are going to get to know Norman in the same way that I know Norman! We talk about how Norman got into acting and when and why he moved to California, as well as what his life was like as an artist first starting out in Los Angeles. We talk about a book he’s been writing! And he tells a lot of great stories! But first, Norman explained his current coffee setup situation and how he’s currently weathering the quarantine from Costa Rica. 

This gets long so putting it behind a cut!

I put a timestamp of where each segment starts at the end of them! 

NR: Hi Emily!

EK: Hi!

NR: I just set this up cause I’ve been listening to your podcast which I really like and I know it’s heavy on the coffee so I brought my coffee setup down the mountain in my backpack on the motorcycle and this is my coffee jam here (I’m not 100% sure of the last 2 words) so, this is what I do. You ready?

EK: Yes!

*NR shows her & describes his coffee process*

EK: What was the thing um, on Instagram, you posted this picture of a hummingbird, that was crazy! What made you post that?

NR: It’s this person that I’ve become friends with, they only try to post positive things…*he explains more about the person & post* (starts at 6:08)

EK: You wanna hear something kind of crazy about the hummingbird thing? I don’t know if you know this about me but I’ve definitely gotten more like spiritual…but like *Emily giggle* this is gonna sound crazy and I don’t even usually talk about this stuff, but I sort of have this sign of when I’m like guided where I’m supposed to go, and my sign has been a hummingbird. And you had text me and I randomly looked at your Instagram and saw—

NR: Wow

EK: —It definitely was like one of those where like ‘go there’, maybe it was just if there is a god or whatever just being like ‘oh nice, connect with your friend, you know, like connect with Norman…’

NR: I actually believe all that. When I texted you I was having breakfast at this place by the beach, the lady that makes the honey, by her place. And I was listening to your podcast with Lennie. And I had already heard Lauren’s and I was listening to Lennie’s, and at the end of it you were like ‘you know what I hope during Covid everyone can reach out to a friend’ and I was like ‘I’m just gonna text her’ so I texted you at that moment. I have the same thing with a bird like my dad, before my dad died he was always talking about cardinals, those red cardinals. So everytime I see a cardinal I think the same thing. And then the night before, Danai called me out of nowhere. I hadn’t spoken to Danai in forever. And she’s like ’what are you doing?’ and I’m like ‘I’m sitting on my patio with all the lights off…’ and there was a meteor shower, it was called like the Gideon meteor shower, this huge meteor shower that happened. And I saw 21 shooting stars before I went to bed. I pay attention to all that shit—

EK: Yeah

NR: 21! And I was like talking to her I’m like ‘there’s 11! There’s 12!’ and it just kept going. I believe all that stuff.

EK: I grew up Catholic so I kind of, like…religion in general felt sort of overwhelming even though prayer and stuff like that came naturally to me and then just over like the last like 5 or 6 years or so I’ve like really embraced it where I’m sort of like ‘yep, I think these things are happening, I have little signs that tell me like where to go…’. I guess I don’t really talk about it with people much but it’s just, like I read about it and stuff. Yeah.

NR: I believe it, I believe all of them. I’m not really religious but I believe all those signs all the time. I see little signs in everything, yeah.

EK: Yeah! (starts at 9:38) 

--

EK: That sounds like you’ve had a very productive quarantine, or whatever this corona-pocalypse quarantine time.

NR: I’m not good with sitting still, you know what I mean, so I’m always doing something.

EK: Yeah! Yeah. I mean that’s one thing, when I was thinking about—when I was around you more working on the show, was that you were always…like you know sitting down to dinner and then like noticing this saltshaker and this fork should be next to each other in a certain way and then you can take a picture. You know what I mean, like I remember that about you like always making something, I guess. Or looking for the art in it or the picture. Or, you know, which um—

NR: it’s ADD or something I dunno what…

EK: I admired it because I feel like I can be so slow. Like, I love making stuff but I can sort of like piece it together over weeks  and then I finally do—like in my head somehow, like I’m more of like a turtle! You know just like—

NR: Yeah but you make music! I mean, we all wish we could write songs and perform songs. You know, you make music. We all wish we were musicians, you know what I’m saying, so. (starts at 18:18)

--

EK: I remember you telling me a story of how you got an agent by like going to a party and then someone said ‘do you want to be in a play?’ and then you were the understudy and then the guy just happened to have to call out so then you were in the play, you didn’t have to be the understudy and then an agent—and that’s how it all started with acting, um, *laughs* did I just tell your story for you?!

NR: You’re right. No, no you’re exactly right. That’s exactly what happened. (starts at 26:08)

--

NR: I actually made an album, a music album

EK: You did?!

NR: Yeah

EK: Oh, that’s—you wrote all the songs and stuff? Or did you—

NR: I didn’t write any of it. And I didn’t really sing it, it’s more of a spoken word thing

EK: Yeah!

NR *tells story about how this came about, which involves an igloo*

EK: Wait, why were you in an igloo in Switzerland?! *laughs*

NR *tells more of the story…it’s long ok I don’t wanna transcribe it sdhfhsfh*

EK: Yeah I wanna hear your album! I mean…

NR: It’s out—

EK: It is?!

NR: It played…it did pretty well in France, it was on the radio and shit

EK: Yeah, will you email it to me or something, so I can…

NR: I will. Yeah yeah.

EK: I also wanted to make sure today to get some of your music picks because I remember back when we were on the show you always gave me the best music, like stuff that I hadn’t heard. I don’t know if if it’s just like because of your friends in New York or like maybe you’re a little bit older than me so you know different bands than I do. But, I remember like Dinosaur Jr., you like introducing me to Dinosaur Jr. Like I didn’t really know Dinosaur Jr. before you

NR: That’s crazy that you don’t know Dinosaur Jr. then (? I really can’t tell for sure that last word he says)

EK: I know! I think I might have pretended that I kind of I knew but like you introduced me for sure and I like totally dove in. But yeah during this quarantine, what have you been listening to?

NR: *lists some bands* Sean Lennon’s band that he made with Les Claypool is really good. He was on Ride with me.

EK: Oh, he was?! I’ve only see—I haven’t seen all the episodes of that, I’ve only seen, um, a few of them (adsdfdjf don’t lie Emily it’s probably actually 0 but we all understand babe) (starts at 35:10)

--

EK: It was so fun to talk to you today

NR: Yeah I miss you! I miss you, it’s good to see you and hear you.

EK: I miss you too, I’m going to check out that sock method…although I think it’s just pour over it’s just with a special…reusable—

NR: Yeah, a dirty sock

EK: Yeah, but something about it, yeah….*both laugh* Thank you for being on here, it feels so good to like chat with you

NR: Yeah, I miss you it’s good to hear your voice

EK: I miss you too, yeah. *she starts talking about twd & the connection with everyone etc* (starts at 41:36)

NR: *after he mentions everyone from the cast he’s still in touch with* You get these friendships with people and it becomes a big part of your life, your friends on the show, so. I’m glad I’m talking to you

EK: Yeah, I’m glad I’m talking to you too. (starts at 44:03)

From Emily’s end blurb: I hope you guys enjoyed Norman and I’s little catch up call over Zoom, I hope that you learned something new about Norman you didn’t know before. You know, Norman and I really hadn’t connected much over the last couple years (we all know this Emily and we pretty much all know why lol) we’ve just been on sort of different paths (yeah, that’s a way to put it I guess haha) but again and again I’m finding that one of the blessings of this time, being stuck at home, is remembering and reconnecting with people I care about and people that care about me. Maybe you have a friend you used to work with that you haven’t caught up with for a while and now you’ll feel inspired to send them a little text saying hello.

(How do they literally have chemistry on a *podcast* okay bye I’m going to go fly into the sun now)

[pens-swords-stuff]

I’ve been having a really hard time writing since COVID-19 was declared a pandemic. Do you have any advice on how to keep making art and creating when things get rough (and, admittedly, kind of scary)?

It’s definitely a really uncertain and scary time for everyone all over the world. For all of the writers who are quarantined, I’m sure the thought of using the time to write something have crossed their minds.

I have a few suggestions that you might try out!

Set yourself up for success

Since many people are stuck at home, it is really easy to get really lazy and stay in pajamas all day. Go about your normal get-ready-for-the-day routine to prepare yourself for writing!

If that means dressing up nicely, go for it. Dress up for yourself, even if no one else sees it — you deserve it! If you want to put on a full face of makeup, do it. If you want to dress in your workout clothes to get you pumped up, do it.

Set up and clean your work space. Pick a spot to be your ‘office’, and arrange it so that you have everything you need there. You want to be focused, and not have to get up every so often to grab something you need. Make it welcoming, and a place you’d want to work at. Maybe light a candle if that’s your thing, turn on your writing playlist or get some rain noises going, grab a glass of water and a snack.

Set up a schedule for yourself! Pick a time that you want to write everyday, and stick to it. It could be a solid 2 hour block of time, it could also be 15 minutes — whatever works for you. Use your designated writing time to brainstorm, to outline, to write, to do writing sprints... It’s your time to be creative and productive!

Basically, try making a ritual for getting ready to write, so that your mind and body will anticipate working. Discipline is key for making steady progress, and it’s also a great way to break up the monotony of staying at home all the time feeling bad. Give yourself something to look forward to and work towards.

Lean into your current feelings

We’re going through a really rough time right now, and because so many things are out of control, it can be really hard to deal with mentally. 

Writing is a fantastic outlet for something like that! Take your feelings, and bleed it all over the page —maybe your character is going through a similar nervous feeling, maybe they’re also stuck somewhere, maybe there’s something similarly hanging over their heads that they don’t know how to deal with. If you wanted to, you could even write a pandemic plot or something.

You know exactly what that’s like right now. You know how scary that is, and how weirdly monotonous our current situation is while it feels like everything else is spiraling out of control. It’s okay to feel those things, and it’s okay to express them on the page. You could take advantage of that channel it directly into your writing.

Distract yourself with something completely different

Maybe you would rather not focus on what you’re feeling and write about it. That’s okay too! Instead, you could go the other direction and write something completely different so you can think about something else for a bit.

It’s okay to go really self-indulgent! Enjoy yourself — write out all of your guilty pleasure tropes, go write that one scene you’ve been excited for, go develop that minor character and let them become a main character.

You could allow your writing time to be your break from reality. Writing is supposed to be fun right? Let yourself have that fun! Do everything you want to, so you can enjoy your writing time! By focusing all of your energy on writing, it can give you a much-needed reprieve from all of the chaos that’s going on right now. 

Explore other media

It’s really easy to get stuck in writing, especially if you’re stuck at home.

This is a fantastic time to read that book you’ve been wanting to read for months but never had the time. What about that TV show your friend has been begging you to watch? Try picking up a video game that you’ve never played. Make a list of movies you want to watch, and try to get through all of them!

You never know where you might find inspiration! Have low expectations for finding your muse, but leave yourself open to the possibility as you experience other creative projects.

Talk to other writers

You’re not the only person going through this right now. There’s an entire community of writeblrs here on the website that are going through similar things, and want to write. Reach out to them! DM your favorite writeblr, send them an ask, join a Discord community. You can support each other through this, and you might be inspired or motivated alongside everyone. They might have other advice for you, you could vent about your feelings with them, you could keep each other on track with your WIPs, tell them about your projects and read about theirs.

Writing doesn’t have to be a lonely craft, you have an entire community waiting to get to know you. It’s okay to reach out for help! Someone will be there to take your hand. You don’t have to be on your own, and this could be the start of a beautiful friendship!

Take a break

Your mental and physical health will always be more important than writing. If you’re too stressed or scared to write, you don’t have to. It’s okay to shelve your writing for a bit, and focus on yourself. If writing is proving to be too difficult and stressful, take a breather. You don’t need to force yourself to write if it’s just not happening.

Take a break, explore some other media, and be kind to yourself until you’re ready to write again. Your own mental and physical well-being comes first.

Be safe, be healthy, and take care of yourself. Good luck!

I now have an updated FAQ and Ask Guidelines for Writing Advice, please check those out first if you have a question about writing or Writeblr!

Ask Guidelines | FAQ | Advice Masterlist

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

Everybody Needs a Hobby

Spike x Summers! Reader

Warnings: some colorful language, implied smut, S5 spoilers mentioned

Description: You’re frustrated with the crude reality of life in Sunnydale. You want something you can love that won’t go up in flames. One night, you pick up a poetry book from the library and Spike stops by to give you a vivid reading.

You need something to take you out of the violence of your everyday life.

You try painting. Relaxing watercolors aided by books you pick up at the library, bright acrylics splashed across canvases. Soon your room is filled with artwork that ranges from clumsy to talented. You start giving paintings away to make space. Birthday presents for your friends, surprises for elderly neighbors, just-because gifts for Spike to make his crypt more colorful (he laughs at them, hurts your feelings a little, but the next time you’re in his bed you see them peeking out from behind a curtain). It works, for awhile, but you crave something less solitary. Plus your artwork takes a darker turn when you wake up from nightmares, which is frequently.

You turn to yoga classes at the YMCA. Twisting your body into poses is a different kind of hell after a night out with Buffy, but the stretches take so much of your focus that they force you to stop overthinking. Then your instructor turns out to be a former genie with a sinister agenda and you have to drop the class. It was getting expensive anyway.

You join a intermural volleyball team, but after a gruesome loss one of your teammates takes up the dark arts. You start baking and almost burn the house down. Even community service gets dangerous when the blood bank is ambushed by vampires.

“I’m just so frustrated,” you explain to Dawn one morning at breakfast. “I mean, I love all of these things and I want them to work out, but Sunnydale poisons everything. It’s like I can’t even have a hobby on the Hellmouth.”

She peels a banana with manicured fingers. You dropped her and her friend off at the salon last week and now it’s like every motion has to be fit for a hand commercial. “Fighting vampires is a hobby.”

“No, it’s a full-time job,” Buffy says, swiping an apple off the counter. “And (Y/n) already has two of those.”

“Well, there you go.” Dawn shrugs on her backpack. “You don’t need a hobby.”

You do, though. Spike insists on supplementing your income with his, so you’ve cut down your hours at the office and you’re only taking weekends at the diner. For the first time in years, you have time to relax. You don’t want to waste it.

Buffy spots the sour look on your face and nudges your arm. She drops the core in the trash and washes her hands under the sink.

“Maybe it’s time to go back to school,” Buffy suggests. “I know it’s the middle of the semester, but you could apply for next year.”

You don’t want to make her feel bad, especially since she’s in the same situation as you, but school doesn’t feel urgent when you’ve got the apocalypse going on every other year. Plus you don’t even know what you’d major in. There’s no degree for monster fighting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You finish your yogurt, check the time on your watch. “Come on, Dawn, I’ll drive you to school.”

After you drop her off, you head into the office. It’s slow today. The coffee machine gurgles to life every thirty minutes to keep the employees awake and the copier sits silent in disuse. Barbara and Anne giggle together in the annex over a tin of buttered cookies. The phone rings at the reception desk only twice in the morning. When you answer, no one’s there.

You spend most of the day looking up courses that you might be interested in. There are a few that catch your eye, but you can’t fathom how you’d put them together into a degree.

One of them, creative writing, jumps out at you. You used to write when you were in your early teens. Mostly angstsy poetry about how no one understood you and how invisible you felt. It’s embarrassing to look back on now, but then it had felt like a statement to the world.

Writing made you feel known. You gave it up when you went to college, mostly because it seemed impossible that it would ever amount to anything and partly because you didn’t have the time or energy to focus on it. College seems silly now, all that effort for a paper degree when you know what’s really out there, but if you went back you wouldn’t be going just for the degree. You’d be going because you love to learn.

It’s not so important that you get published and famous anymore. You don’t need the spotlight when you’ve already got the most important job in the world: taking care of your sisters. It’s fine to work in the office and at the diner where you’re nothing more to people than another employee. You know you’re making a difference, even if they never will.

But your heart aches a little for what you might’ve had if life hadn’t gotten in the way.

That night, you stop by the library to pick up some books. Just to see if you still have a passion for them the way you used to. Sunnydale’s library is open until ten p.m. and you stay curled up in an armchair in the fiction section until close. You check out four books to take with you: a poetry anthology, Little Women, a collection of short stories from around the world, and a YA novel. You figure that if you try all different genres, maybe you’ll land on something you love.

Your walk back to the house is uneventful, thankfully (having just renewed your library card, you don’t want to have it revoked if something sinister takes a bite out of your books). You have a late night snack with Dawn since Buffy is still out hunting and then take your books up to your room.

You leave the window open so you won’t have to get up if Spike drops by and curl up in bed with the anthology, a notebook on your bedside table in case of inspiration. You’re not totally sure when he comes in; it feels like hours and seconds since you opened the book. The words are swirling around in the soft light of the room, bouncing off the bed frame and the dresser, colliding with your closet door and knocking the paintings askew in their frames.

“Shouldn’t leave your window open like that, love. Something wicked might find its way in.”

His shirt is off already, you register, as he peels the book from your fingers and kisses you deeply. You make a noise of protest against his mouth and he pulls back, eyebrows raised.

“What the hell book is that, to have you so absorbed you don’t even notice me come in?” He picks it up, dangles it in front of you. “Can’t be porn. Because, obviously, what you’ve got in front of you is better than porn. You Summers. All repressed and self-righteous. If it’s the bloody Bible or The Guide to Enlightenment or some—”

“Don’t make fun of me, William,” you retort, snatching it out of his grasp. “It’s a good book.”

“Must be,” he scoffs. Then he reads the cover. His features flicker through three different emotions in the span of five seconds. “Poetry?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not— Here, give me that.”

Grudgingly, you hand it over, and he settles in between your legs, his head resting on your breasts. He picks out the filthiest, most sexual poem he can find (which is still incredibly tame by his usual standards) and recites:

“‘I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has to guess what’s underneath. I want to walk down the street—’”

His voice is low, soft, like he’s switched into someone else in the moments between his choosing the poem and his reading it. It makes you shiver. His hand slides up your thigh, at odds with his careful, thoughtful voice.

“‘I want to walk like I’m the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me—’” At this, he shifts position, moves the underwear beneath your pajama shorts aside and slides a finger up. You bite your lip. “‘—To show how little I care about you or anything except what I want.’ I like that one, what about you? ‘Confirm your worst fears?’ ‘How little I care about you or anything except what I want?’ Sound like someone you know?”

You hardly realize he’s switched from the poem to conversation until he pauses his ministrations beneath the bedsheet. He’s angled toward you now, one hand twisted under the sheets and his back against your inner thigh, a toothy grin on his face as he repays you for earlier.

“You’re such an ass.”

He ignores this instead of cutting in with his typical I’m evil, duh speech, nuzzles your neck. “I’d like to get you into a dress like that, love. Have you walk down the street in it, showing off—” He sucks at the skin, hard. You cry out. “But then we have to have a way of letting everyone know you’re mine, don’t we?”

“Spike.” His name comes out a moan, a quiet prayer.

“You want another poem? I’m liking this book.”

He returns to his regularly upright seated position, pretends to adjust his reading glasses, then flips through the pages, leaving you wanting. He lands on a sonnet, airing the words out to the open room as you squirm. Finally, you decide to take matters into your own hands, but he stops you, bursting into a new stanza.

“Here in the electric dusk your naked lover tips the glass high and the ice cubes fall against her teeth...”

He replaces your fingers with his own, guiding you through the poem with a small circles. When you beg, he undresses for you, sets the book down.

“You’re just an erotic hallucination,” he breathes, touching everything as if to make sure that the line isn’t true.

He’s teasing, but a part of him clings to these words in a sad, sweet way. When he’s finished and you’re spent, he rolls over onto the other side of the mattress and his mood shifts again.

“I loved a girl once,” he says, and it stings, even though he talked about Dru often when you first started up and even before, like he wished to hurt you into wanting him. “I wrote her this poem. I used to write a lot, before. I was hopeless that way.”

His voice isn’t soft now. It’s almost angry, like he has been during sex at some points. Passionate and raw and mad at someone that wasn’t you. Flickering back and forth between past and present.

“You probably would’ve liked William,” Spike says. He barks a strangled laugh. “He was just your type. A scrawny mama’s boy who lived through his books.”

He was almost gentle earlier. You can’t understand why he switches like this, between acting like he can’t go on without you and twisting the knife. You roll onto your side.

“Might’ve been, once,” you murmur. This pillow talk is almost worse than the nights when he leaves right after to get his fix, claiming you’ve made him hungry. “Boys like that wouldn’t look twice at me now.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, love.”

You can hear the smile in his voice though. He likes that your self-esteem is low. It feeds his ego, that he can hurt you even though he can’t drain you dry. He’s soulless, after all. On some level, he probably does need you like he says, but it’s not pure. It never will be. He can try to help you when it suits him, restrain himself from severing ties because he craves closeness, but he’s still Spike.

“They’re scared of me now.” Your arms cross under your breasts. You’re not self-flagellating tonight, not really. You’re in the mood for the truth. “They know.”

“Know what?”

“They know, on some level—” It sounds silly, only it isn’t, not to you. “—what I’ve done. And no amount of watercolors or yoga classes is going to change that.”

You didn’t realize it until you said it out loud, how much you were trying to be the girl you were before your mother’s death. How much you missed her and the almost casual slayage that was common before Glory. Sure, the world almost ended a couple times, but you knew how it would turn out in your heart. This— with Buffy, with Dawn— you have no idea.

You lapse into silence, purposefully even your breathing out so it seems you’ve fallen asleep. He gets up not long after, rustles around your room for a moment in a way that makes you nervous, and then pulls the window shut behind him as he exits onto the roof. You fall asleep at some point, drifting in and out of a dream featuring you at the office in a nightmare distortion of your boss’s birthday party until your alarm goes off.

You sit up and smack the button off, sending a piece of paper cascading to the floor. It isn’t until after you’ve brushed your teeth and fully woken up that you retrieve it. It takes you a full thirty seconds to process the first line of the pretentious and somewhat offensive poem Spike left you.

It’s disgusting. It’s explicit. It’s replete with words that you have to look up.

You love it.

When you go down to breakfast, Dawn cracks jokes about the dazed smile on your face until Buffy shushes her and sends her off to finish getting ready for school.

“Seriously, are you okay though?” she asks when the two of you are left to yourselves. You could ask her the same question, with the already scabbing gash on her forehead, but you settle for a quick shake of the head. You feel like you’re burning up, like she can see through you to all the things you did last night.

“No— I mean, I didn’t sleep well.” You pour yourself a cup of juice and take a seat at the table, trying to suffocate your grin. “But I think I found my new hobby.”

[krispydefendorpolice]

Once Upon A Miraculous - Part 2

Ok before we even get into the story here’s yet another warning to think twice before you continue. Jason dies. He dies in a gruesome, traumatizing event and even though I think I went over it very lightly I still think it’s pretty fucking graphic. I’m the writer and I. Had. To. Fucking. Stop. And take a break before I could continue with the story.

Violence and the results it can have on the body ahead. Madness from the pit and angst from hurt feeling of being replaced ahead. For the last time. You’ve all been warned so read at your own risk.

I’m going to trust that you all know your headspace well enough and for those that choose to read anyways? Thank you for going on this journey with me. I hope the falls between here and the end are worth the river journey and the lake we reach at the end (yes those are f*ing metaphors. I’m feeling philosophical at the moment)

Previous Masterpost list

————————————

“It’s me Nettie. I’m alive”

****************************

Jason was 14 years old when he met the Batman. He came across an unwatched batmobile. The tires on it could be sold for more than the average car and he had the tools on him.

One last check and he got to work. He was already thinking about the things he could buy for himself and his street siblings that he forgot the number one rule. Always keep a lookout.

The Batman caught him red handed with three wheels off and the fourth half done. After being forced to return the wheels to the car Jason was taken to the underground batcave. He met Alfred and the unmasked Batman. Bruce “fucking billionaire” Wayne.

Less than a month later he’s living in the manor and has been “adopted”. He doesn’t trust it. Rich men don’t want son’s and there are too many kids with stories about the horrors that “nice family’s” hide behind closed doors. But he’s got a roof over his head and food in his stomach. If Wayne thinks that will be enough to buy him he’s going to find out how wrong he was.

Jason starts small at first. If he can just get the man angry enough to throw him out he won’t have to worry about being brought back. Setting all the alarms in the house and making them unfixable was a bit of a challenge. Seeing Bruce’s face when he changed the passwords was brilliant.

It continued that way for a few months until Bruce finally decided if Jason was gonna be a little shit he could learn to fight better instead. Jason decided that if he was going to learn to fight he would take over the abandoned Robin role too.

Dick was not happy. The first time Jason got to meet the man was after he was seen as Robin. He came to the manor and yelled at Bruce, saying he had no right to give his costume and name to someone else. Jason listened from the second story.

As angry as the two men got neither came to blows over it. Dick ended the fight by storming out and he put the older hero on radio silence for months after but neither had any injuries from their disagreement. If Jason had ever even looked at his old man funny as a kid he would have a black eye and welts on his back to show for it.

Maybe Bruce could be trusted after all?

****************************

At 15 years old Bruce is engaged to Selina Kyle. Their on again off again thing as hero and thief where they danced around each other had been driving Jason and Alfred batty. It was nice to see them actually settle into their thing as each challenged the other and kept them on their toes.

When Selina said she was going to be spending the summer with the daughter of an old schoolmate of hers Jason didn’t think much of it. He knew she had a legit degree she used to assess the potential spoils of her criminal activities.

He arrived at Wayne Enterprises a little early for their lunch meeting. Bruce had told him they’d meet in the lobby so after greeting the receptionists he looked for a place to sit. In one of the chairs facing the doors a small girl looked up at the windows before going back to her book and writing something. No she was probably drawing with long pencil strokes like that.

Curious he walked over to see if he could look at her drawing. He could see what looked like an image of the stained glass windows on the page but the lines through them gave it a softer, almost flowing shape. Which was weird cause glass wouldn’t follow those lines.

“What are you drawing?” He found himself asking her.

She jumped so he’d obviously surprised her. His thoughts were captured by her bright blue eyes. In the light coming from those stained glass windows she’d been admiring they almost seemed to glow.

She said she was designing a dress while she waited for her guardian and the fiancé to return. This must be Selina’s friends daughter.

Lunch was a fun affair where the girl shared she would be designing costumes for Jagged stone to wear during his concert tour this summer. She would stay with Selina in Gotham from Monday to Thursday while she designed and created clothes she would fly to whatever city Jagged was playing in from Thursday to Sunday to be on hand during the concerts for any costume repairs that would be needed.

Bruce volunteered Jason to show Marinette around the city since it wouldn’t be safe for her to be alone. Jason agrees because it’s summer break and he likes the Marinette he talked stained glass windows with and wonders what other beauty she will see in his dark city.

**

He is breathless by the beauty she sees all around her. The joy and happiness she shines as easily as she breathes. Everyone she meets becomes a new friend. Even the tamer of the Rogues and the Siren’s who meet her are enthralled by her smile and her charm.

Kissing her was a completely spontaneous action. He had thought about it for weeks by then but she had said there was a guy back home she sort of still had a crush on though she wasn’t happy with how they wanted to deal with the liar situation. So he was resigned to keeping his budding feelings to himself so that he could see her happy.

It had been the night of the last concert. Jagged had Marinette come on stage where he officially introduced her as his designer and the creator of all the tour costumes to the world. She had beamed with a smile so wide that when she threw herself into Jason’s arms after walking off stage he had just pulled back and placed a kiss on her lips.

He froze when he realized what he did. Marinette had stood on her tiptoe to start their second kiss.

For a week they were blissfully happy and free with their affection. Multiple paparazzi got pictures of them holding hands, kissing each other or just cuddling when they were waiting. Jasonette and the Sunshine of Gotham blew up on social media.

Saying goodbye to her was a really hard thing to do. So Jason went shopping for something he could give her to remember him by. They had decided they would try a long distance thing but he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. If they did fall apart from distance he wanted something she could use to always fondly remember the summer fling they had.

It was perfect. He knew it might be impractical but he was convinced that it would be the perfect gift for her someday.

************************

They made it work. They had talked everyday and he spent every chance he could in France with her. He met her parents and they met Bruce as well. Marinette had her school situation resolved following her return.

He was proud of her for sticking up for herself when all her classmates seemed ready to abandon the liar just because Marinette had a connection they could use again. Nathaniel, Rose and Juleka were all artsy like Marinette and he could see how their creative energies inspired each other and themselves.

He was a week away from his departure to spend the summer in France with Marinette and her family when it happened. A false lead led to his capture by the Joker.

(Begin Angst)

The first break hurt but it was bearable. He had broken bones before. His bio dad had broken them frequently when he was still alive. The fifth hurt as bad. He also had a concussion and several burns at that time as well.

What felt like days, weeks, years... minutes?, passed in a haze as he jerked with every new hit. He was a mess from vomit, blood, piss and shit when his body couldn’t follow his commands any longer.

He held to the belief that Batman would come for him. That his father could still save him.

When the Joker left, Jason was lying on the concrete floor looking at the bomb countdown. He knew he had to get out of there, he pushed his battered body past the point he could feel pain and struggled to the door. He pulled on it but it wouldn’t open. The rattle of chains on the other side told him why.

He collapsed to the floor, tears streaming as he watched the numbers countdown.

10, 9, 8...

I’m sorry Alfred.

7, 6, 5,...

I’m sorry Bruce.

4, 3,...

I’m sorry Nettie.

2, 1,

I love...

(End Angst)

He was only 16. He would never see 17.

***************************

It was dark. It was small. It was hard to breathe. He was in some kind of box. He screamed and hit the walls around him trying to get out, trying to find some air.

It surprised him when cold pieces fell from above him. It had a new smell. He focused his determination on that spot. More of the new thing came down into his cage. He pushed it away from him and continued. There. Briefly a breath of clean, fresh air.

With new determination he pushed harder towards the life giving air. He was able to pull his head and shoulders out of the box. He rested for a moment swallowing greedy gulps of air into his starved lungs. When he was able to continue he pulled himself from the ground and looked around. As far as his eye could see were stones standing from the ground around him and beyond those trees and underbrush fading into shadows.

He picked a direction at random and began to walk.

**

It was familiar. Grab an item, run. The actions came without conscious memory. The streets were cold but he was big enough to scare off the worst of the predators. There were a few small people, kids, that came to him for protection from the bigger people. He did what he could but it never seemed to be enough he thought, as he stood over another small, broken body.

“I can give you a way to protect them.”

He looked up. She was beautiful but her eyes were cold. Empty and unfeeling. But she had promised to give him a way to protect the little ones. He was willing to try anything for that power.

What was his name? How old was he? He didn’t know.

****************************************

Jason.

He remembered his name as he lunged from the sickly green waters that Talia had led him to. He remembered Bruce, his father, but he didn’t save him from the Joker. He remembered the Jokers laughter ringing in his ears as he stood over another broken child on the streets. And the new shadow following the shape of the Batman when he was an amnesiac wandering the streets of Gotham.

He had been REPLACED!! He fumed. The anger and resentment over Bruces inability to save him, to avenge him and his replacing him as if Jason meant nothing, festered and boiled in his mind.

When he left the League of Shadows his only plan was to go back to Gotham and get revenge for his own death and to hurt his so called father as badly as he could. If Jason meant so little to him then he would show how little Bruce meant to him.

**

(Mild violence ahead)

Their first reunion was in a fight over drug dealers selling heroin to kids. Jason looked directly at the bat, pulled his gun and shot the dealers in the forehead.

(Violence over)

“These are my streets now. I won’t tolerate kids getting hurt on my watch.”

He disappeared before Batman could restrain him.

For weeks they danced around. Batman trying to catch him and Jason using every trick he learned from the Bat himself to avoid him.

Blood flowed freely from the wicked and the corrupt. He was a villain in his own right bringing judgement and execution down upon the criminals of Gotham.

Batman always appealed to the better side of him, to stop his madness. Didn’t he understand that part died? The child that trusted in heroes to protect the innocent died at the hands of a monster. A monster that his father couldn’t chase away.

The RedHood was risen from the pits and unleashed upon the evil of Gotham.

He was 18 years old.

******************************

Months of their back and forth dynamic between RedHood and Batman passed. The Batman couldn’t arrest the RedHood but the RedHood couldn’t stop tweaking his cape to get a reaction.

Didn’t he care? Wasn’t he going to stop him? He was doing everything wrong so why wouldn’t Bruce do the same for him that he did for all the other criminals in Gotham?

It was when Jason had the Joker at the business end of a gun that he got his answers.

“Don’t do it Hood,” Bruce pleaded. “It will change you beyond what you can come back from if you do.”

“I’ve already killed, B,” his words caught as he gasped, fighting back tears of rage. “My hands are dripping in blood.

He laughed madly then, “‘Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?’ Who knew that bitch knew what she was talking about.”

“It’s the madness that’s done it Hood. You’ve barely held control before. But you’re fighting the killing urge and directing it to those that do deserve it.”

“And yes,” he interrupted before Jason could argue, “no one deserves it more than Joker for what he’s done to you. But if you do it then the madness will win. Please I can’t lose my son again,” he begged.

“WHY DOES THAT MATTER NOW?!” Jason screamed. “He killed me. I was dead in the ground and you let him walk. WHY COULDN’T YOU KILL HIM?! AM I THAT MEANINGLESS TO YOU!?!!”

“I COULDN’T!” Bruce yelled back. “If I killed him I wouldn’t be able to stop killing. It wouldn’t just be the Joker that died, it would be every criminal in Gotham who dared step out of line. I wanted to. I still want to. He took my son from me but I know that once I start I won’t be able to stop. I’m sorry that I’m so weak, but I couldn’t.”

The Batman, no Bruce Wayne, stood before him, head bowed in defeat as he admitted to his greatest shame.

Jason looked away before dropping the gun and walking away. He knew Bruce would take the Joker back to Arkham so he just needed to get away and think.

**

They worked to build their relationships anew. He couldn’t be the son Bruce remembered anymore, too much had changed, but he could be the son he was today. He could do what he could for the Replacement and make sure the kid didn’t get himself killed on the streets. The girl that joined them got the same measure of protection though she was better able to defend herself.

When he finally let go of thoughts of revenge he could think about a time when a stray spark of living Sunshine found its way to cold, grey Gotham. He finally looked up news of Marinette to see how she was doing. He broke down and cried when her wedding announcement to the son of a Parisian fashion house was the first thing to pop up.

Selina, Bruce and Alfred all encouraged him to take a trip to France anyways to get some closure, to say goodbye. But he refused, the smile in her eyes as she looked at her new husband in the picture convinced him that she was happy. And that was all he ever wanted for her, even if it couldn’t be him giving the her the world.

He was 19 years old when he made peace with his past.

****************************

He was 20 years old when news of the villain Hawkmoth and his defeat hit the international press. He was livid to realize that his beloved Nettie had been in so much danger just living in a city that should have been safe. That the Justice League had done nothing when the citizens pleaded for help.

It felt like the period after his revival in the pit as he stormed the halls of the WatchTower. His vision was in various shades of red and his thoughts just kept turning back to how Marinette might have been killed in one of the villain’s monster attacks. Hell, she probably did die once or twice only to be revived by the hero’s magic.

If he ever got to meet LadyBug he would shower her in appreciation for defending the city his Nettie lived in.

The door crashed and nearly fell off the hinges when he threw it open and stormed through into the Leagues council room.

“RedHood,” Batman said calmly as he stalked up to the table.

Slamming his hands down and leaning over the collected heroes he asked what he’d wanted to since the news broke.

“Who. Screwed. Up?”

“When footage of the attacks first reached the League, investigations were done. No lasting damage was left from the attacks so it was written off as a publicity stunt and subsequent messages were ignored,” Batman explained. “It was a phone operator that fielded these calls. They went based off the assessment done by the League and deleted them.”

“She could have died B. I was dead and couldn’t do anything but you should have been keeping an eye on her. You know what she means to me.”

Batman nodded, “I should have. The messages never reached me but I should have been keeping a watch on her regardless of that.”

“You’re going to make amends to those heroes for ignoring them,” Jason stated. “All of you are,” he added, including the other heroes in the room in his statement.

“Yes,” Batman agreed.

Jason jerked his head in a nod and left the room. Going back to the cave where he can do his own check and make sure Marinette was safe.

********************************

It wasn’t just the League that failed Marinette. Jason knew he was as much to blame. If he had gone to Paris? If he had seen her? If he had told her he was alive? Would she have suffered under Hawkmoth? If, if, if.

News of the divorce of up and coming fashion designer MDC and the son of the fashion mogul and former villain Adrian Agreste hit airwaves like lightning. In the beginning people claimed it was Marinette who left because of Hawkmoth’s identity. Adrian was fast to shut that down and own that he was the one to ask for the divorce for personal reasons. With what seemed to be an amicable break up the world turned its attention to the next sound bite.

He’d failed her again. Jason just sat by his empty grave as he cried when he learns about it. He argues with Alfred and Selina when they bring up him visiting Paris afterwards. This time Bruce supports his decision. He doesn’t approve and lets Jason know it, but he supports him.

Returning to the cave after patrol, Jason was the last to arrive. He didn’t know why everyone was gathered by the computer so he went to take a look. He didn’t hear what Alfred said as he walked over. Momentarily blinded by the helmet as he removed it, he froze when he finally saw what, no who, had his family’s attention.

She had grown since their first meeting, not in height but in maturity. She had traded the fun pigtails for an elegant braid, and jeans for a sundress obviously of her own design.

“Hi, Monsieur Alfred introduced the others but I haven’t gotten your name yet. I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she introduces herself as if she were meeting a stranger for the first time.

It hurt his heart that she would do that with him, though he realizes why she did. She didn’t know. She couldn’t know that it was him under the mask.

The words wouldn’t come though when he tried to find them and tell her. He finally settled for showing her, hoping she would believe her eyes.

After she gasped in reaction to his reveal he thought maybe his approach was a bit boneheaded after all. Nothing to do but go forward from there though.

“It’s me Nettie. I’m alive.”

Marinette teared up but instead of breaking down and crying she ran to him and jumped into his arms. Burying her face in his neck she just murmured “You’re alive” over and over.

“Yeah,” he admitted. He held her as tightly as he dared. A little worried he might hurt her by accident.

When she pulled away he reluctantly let her go but it was worth it.

She gave him the biggest smile and he saw it again.

He was 21 years old and the sun was shining in cold, grey Gotham once more.

————————————

So I really got into the structure I used for the first chapter and exuded to use the same for this one. They end at different ages because Jason’s a few months older and this happened in that in between time (the real reason is sections were getting too busy so I add another year to his story. How do I rationalize it? Well birthdays are a thing so there you go).

I hope everyone enjoyed this wild ride. I do plan to do an epilogue chapter but that will have to wait until next weekend. Anyone have any ideas you can send it to me.

@pepelachanel @mellownieice @kris-pines04 @zebrabaker @two-faced-biatch @vixen-uchiha @mandy984 @shamefullove @mycupisbroken @dawnwave16 @abrx2002 @mochinek0 @tbehartoo @fertileleaf @thanks-captain-obvious @ravennightingaleandavatempus @hinata3487 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @zalladane @dast218 @miraculous786 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @moonlightstar64 @mooshoon @ladybug182 @iggy-of-fans @legendaryneckjudgestudent @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @finallyaniguana @tog84 @mystery-5-5 @evil-elf16

[sometimesrosy]

Is it ok to not write everyday? Saturday I had family over (situation isn’t critical here), sunday I was feeling sick and with a lot of headaches, monday I had too much work and when I got home I just didn’t feel like writing. Yesterday I actually wrote, more than 3000 words. But today I left work later and went shopping. Had dinner while watching a tv show, took a shower. 10pm, didn’t feel like writing as my back really hurt & I was tired. I felt guilty for not writing as I had time. Is it ok?

PS. I’m really enjoying writing this story and I haven’t felt like it was this easy to write for a long time. I’ve been struggling to write, so now that I’m doing it and having fun and doing it daily, most of the time, I don’t want to burnout nor force myself to write when I don’t feel like it. I think that if I don’t particularly want to and force myself, I’ll stop enjoying writing it eventually

+++

Yes it’s okay not to write everyday-- or not write as much everyday.

As a writer, if you don’t have a deadline or assignment, whether for school or work or publication, then writing is 100% voluntary. You might feel a compulsion to write, but it’s still a choice.

And I believe that if people are looking to have a writing career, then they should actively CHOOSE to write. And to be aware how hard it is, how tricky, how little the rewards often are, and decide for themselves whether or not they are willing to sacrifice what they must in order to write. Because make no doubt about it, writing is something you have to sacrifice for. Even if it’s just your time and energy, that’s a sacrifice. And if you feel that you don’t want to sacrifice your time and energy to write, then maybe writing is not what you want to do as more than a fun pastime whenever the mood hits you. 

You can write without having a career in it, you know? You can enjoy it privately, or in fanfiction, or just for fun, with no grander goals than this one story, or whatever story you’re in the mood for. I mean I’ve been writing poetry for decades, and it never stopped me that I didn’t write regularly or publish much beyond that one year when I did a chapbook. I still find value in writing poetry, no matter what comes of it.

AND if you DO choose writing as a career or calling (because sometimes it’s more a calling than a career-- it’s hard to make a living, even when you succeed,) then you have to be aware that you’re in it for the long run. That means that you do not want to binge write every day, forever for the rest of your life. It is not sustainable.

Please remember that you are not only a writer, but also a person. You’re going to need time to be a person. To be with family. To work. To enjoy yourself. To be social. To get exercise. To be sick sometimes, or maybe all of the time if, like me, you have a chronic illness. 

As a writer, you need to take your life into consideration when you plan to write. Build writing into your life, don’t make it your life. Because in order to write well you do actually need to live. Whatever that means to you. 

Every writer has different needs. Some writers MUST write every day, to one degree or another. I think I might be one of them. But that doesn’t mean I write in my novel every day. There’s novelling, there’s journal writing, there’s poetry, there’s blog writing, there’s letter writing, there’s fanfic writing, there’s essay writing, there’s also social media writing. I’ve seen some instagram posts get very elaborate and be more like journals or essays. Do beware of twitter writing though. While it feeds the writing jones, it doesn’t seem to be very focused. Although, idk. Maybe it works for you to keep the fires burning.

But even when someone does prefer to write every day, sometimes there are going to be times when that’s not feasible, due to outside constraints or health or maybe a loss of inspiration or desire to write, even. It happens. 

I have a theory that writing is not JUST putting words on the page. A lot of the time, as writers, we really need a fallow period, where we DON’T put words on the page. Where we accept that there’s a silence in the words, a kind of wintering over, where we have to retreat from productive writing and instead focus inward on ideas, on feelings, on HOLDING onto those ideas and letting them grow underground, to bring them to bloom later, when it’s time to write.

Sometimes that “writers block” isn’t a writer’s block, but just a signal from our subconscious that we need to take a break and maybe slow down the relentless progress of words so that the ideas can grow and deepen into something more substantial. 

As I’m ghostwriting now, at a VERY fast pace, I do believe that writingwritingwriting without stopping to think leads to a shallower story. They can be FUN stories, but if you don’t stop to think about how it all fits together and maybe what it all means, then how can it really go deep? Sure you can push through to get that bingewriting wordcount... but does that mean you’re doing good writing? 

So basically I’m saying not only is it OKAY to take a writing break, I’m saying that in some ways it may be NECESSARY. Even when I do bingewrite, I find I need to take a break after it... so like for nanowrimo or ghostwriting, I need downtime to rest and recuperate. If I’m not writing slowly (for me 1k a day) where I’m building rest time INTO my writing day, I need to take a break, sometimes days, sometimes weeks, sometimes MONTHS.

One caveat is that if you do take a long break from writing, it can often be very difficult to get back into writing again. You lose your writing muscles. 

You might want to build some steps into your work habit that aren’t writing but share creative impulses, in order to either not lose your writing muscles or to work them up again after a break. Some of the non-novelling habits I mentioned before might help. Journal writing, poetry writing, writing about writing. But also note taking and research. Read books on writing or genre or storytelling. Watch shows that inspire your story. Read books to think about how other writers do it. Make maps and family trees and sketches of your characters or settings. Put your brain back in the story, even if you’re not writing. I like to start pinterest boards for all my novels/novellas. Sure it can feel like procrastination, but sometimes when I’m uninspired and not IN my story, I can go to the board and look at it and remember. Also it’s a good place to save research on, say, solo sailing, or how long it takes to get from the earth to mars at light speed or what the pacific north west coast looks like. 

tl:dr yes it’s okay to take a break. you need to find a work habit and a writing schedule that is workable for YOU and you should build breaks into that,but don’t let it get away from you so that you stop writing all together.

[shortqueershakespeare]

bro... you just know imma have to ask for all the questions....

I hope you’re proud of my dedication (also thank you for doing this every time lol)

london: when you visit a city, do you take in the tourist points or the more unknown places?

I like to do both, but more unknown places are fun to either discover myself or be shown by someone who loves the city.

paris: where did you last fall in love?

In a bedroom in Cambridge I think.

berlin: do you find history or geography to be more interesting?

History, I love learning about history, but I didn’t study either at school - I now do some history.

amsterdam: would you drink in a room full of strangers?

That’s just freshers week in a nutshell so yes I did.

prague: rivers or forests?

Forests with lakes, although rivers really make me think of home - in my home city my grandma lives next to a river, as does my dad, at uni I live near a river and in Vienna I commute across the river which I love.

vienna: do you enjoy classic literature?

Yes, definitely, I actually read a lot of classics as a kid but I’ve been slacking lately.

barcelona: beaches or cities?

Cities

madrid: who did you last attend a party with?

I’m assuming it would’ve been with uni friends, or many a zoom party.

budapest: if you could do anything and not have to face the consequences, what would you do?

ooh shit that’s such a good question, right now it’d probably be punch/get rid of our incompetent government.

rome: ancient rome or ancient greece?

oooh i think i’d go with ancient greece although i can speak some latin so i’d maybe fare better in rome.

copenhagen: how many languages can you speak?

5, to varying degrees, english and german are my best, russian is prob still my worst because i haven’t practised in forever.

dublin: where was the last castle you visited?

Old Sarum 

stockholm: angst or fluff?

Fluff babyyyy

lisbon: if you had the chance to become a prince/princess, would you?

Hmmm I don’t think so, although the British monarchy have so much monarchy, maybe just to do good with that money.

athens: favourite greek myth?

Off the top of my head, Eurydice and Orpheus.

milan: what matters more: fashion or comfort?

Comfortttt

munich: why did you kiss the last person you did?

I’d broken up with someone not long before and he kissed me and took me by surprise, it was very sweet.

helsinki: when did you last visit a friend’s house?

Start of October I think, we don’t have bubbles in Austria but we made one with him so he wouldn’t be on his own.

reykjavik: do people usually have trouble pronouncing your name when you first meet?

Nope, they often spell it wrong though

florence: how did you discover your favourite artist’s work?

I really like Allie Brosh’s comics and books, my sister introduced me to her.

edinburgh: would you visit a dog park without a dog?

Probably yeah

oslo: what’s more important: work or love?

Love

venice: why did you last fall in love?

He provided me support when I really really needed it and made me feel valued.

glasgow: where were you going during your latest bus journey?

To work

liverpool: do you follow any sports?

I follow league one of British football for AFC wimbledon. I follow tennis sometimes too.

cologne: why did you last visit your grandparents?

To give my mum a break from looking after grandma.

moscow: would you rather perform in a circus or an opera?

Oh hell, probably an opera.

naples: if you could visit anywhere in the world, where would you go and for how long?

Hmmm I’m gonna give a few answers - if there wasn’t the teeny problem of bigotry and safety I would love love love to go to Russia for like a month.

I also really want to go to Italy and Spain and the Scandinavian countries, so I’d like to do like a month or two of interrailing (which was my plan for March but obvs I can’t do that)

favourite

1 - season?

autumn

2 - classic film?

Men in black?? idk

3 - nostalgia-inducing possession?

my teddy bear - he’s called brownie and my sister got him for me when I was really little

4 - shade of green?

the dark bits of malachite

5 - gemstone?

amethyst

6 - hour of the night?

4-5am

7 - quote?

“The universe is seeming really huge right now. I need something to hold on to.” - We Were Liars (E. Lockhart)

8 - type of dream?

dreams about being in love

9 - happy song?

Candlelight - Relient K

10 - sad song?

Tobacco In My Sheets - Lauren Aquilina

11 - character from a book?

Ohh I really don’t know I’ll go with Andy Skampt from the Carls.

12 - creative medium?

Pen and paper for writing

13 - memory?

belly laughs around the table with my family 

14 - aspect of a person’s face?

smile or eyes

15 - decade before the 2020s?

2010s

16 - band?

Stornoway

17 - animated film/tv show?

moana

18 - constellation?

cassopeia

19 - poem?

A Thousand Mornings by Mary Oliver.

20 - album?

right now its Songs for the Drunk and Broken Hearted by Passenger

21 - ending in fictional media?

The ending to Crazy Ex Girlfriend.

22 - shade of blue?

maybe baby blue because its on the trans flag

23 - part of being alive?

love

24 - holiday?

last time I came to Vienna actually

25 - kind of candy?

flying saucers are a classic

26 - person you know?

I’m real homesick so my sister at the moment

27 - musical movie?

Rent

28 - superhero?

Spiderman

29 - book longer than 500 pages?

I think North Child is longer than 500 pages?

30 - book shorter than 300 pages?

We Were Liars

 marvel character asks

iron man: first superhero you ever liked?

spiderman

spiderman: do you believe in hometown pride?

not really 

black widow: would you rather be a secret agent for the heroes or the villains?

heroes

hulk: which approach to conflict do you prefer: analytical or physical?

analytical

thor: what’s your favourite kind of weather?

snow

captain america: how patriotic are you?

fuck not at all

black panther: what’s your favourite sci-fi movie?

the one i immediately thought of was I am Number Four.

ant-man: how tall are you?

something above 5′3″ but i genuinely don’t know

bucky barnes: do you have any hidden talents?

nope

captain marvel: on what topic do you and your parents most disagree?

how tidy my room should be kept

hawkeye: if you had to fight, what would be your weapon of choice?

something i can use at close quarters, maybe a knife

doctor strange: what’s an occurrence of everyday magic you’ve experienced?

Honestly some places and weather and animals are so magical

peter quill: is there anyone that underestimates you?

probably my flatmate

falcon: tell us your feelings on the armed forces.

oof that’s a rough one. My dad was in the army and definitely has ptsd from it. I don’t support the army at all but I do recognise that a lot of working class kids have few alternatives and are funnelled into that system.

gamora: if family and success were mutually exclusive, which would you choose?

family every time

nebula: do you believe a person can truly change?

yes

wanda: if you could have any superpower, what would you choose and why?

shapeshifting

deadpool: tell an offensive joke you feel bad for finding funny.

eh no thanks, i don’t really wanna put that energy out there rn

loki: greatest thing you’ve done on april fool’s day?

i mean probably something annoying to my sister when i was younger

venom: what non-mcu marvel character would you love to see in the mcu?

oh god i have no idea

nick fury: how do other people perceive you?

i hope as empathetic

thanos: do you believe in necessary sacrifices? give an example.

yes and no, not in terms of economy and shit, i don’t think people should ever be sacrificed for economic gain, but in terms of personal life i’ve sacrificed friendships to transition, and i’d do it again.

rocket: favourite non-domesticated animal?

tigerrrr

drax: would you rather fight with fists or knives?

fists

groot: how annoying were you five years ago?

i think i was growing out of my super annoying phase

[thestudyfeels]

Become A Writing Machine

✨ To read my articles when they come out, join my taglist! :)

A series of article for all future articles about to be birthed, how innovative! Welcome to the mother of all articles, yes, you can subscribe already.

This was requested by Raha from @xenorosis​, who wanted an updated version of the very old (and very boring, and very unfunny, but we all start somewhere) How To Write A Masterpost article. Here you go! Hope this helps, I’m looking forward to reading your work. 

Since I had a lot to say, this series contains 5 posts!

Post one: before you write an article

Post two: how I write my articles

Post three: my editing process

Post four: tips for writing non-fiction

Post five: how to get more views on your articles

Post One: BEFORE YOU WRITE AN ARTICLE

1. Find Your Niche.

What will you write about? This might take time to figure out, it sure did for me. I used to write mostly about studying but now I hate it (bluntness has entered the chat), so I write about lifestyle design & productivity instead.

Two guidelines that helps narrow it down:

You have to love it AND enjoy about writing about it. (If you don't like writing, start a podcast! Or make videos! The world is yours, darling)

You gotta have some knowledge about it. Means, study books on it, research before writing, constantly talk about it and get different points of view.

Good to remember: Pick something you'll be able to write an actual ARTICLE about, not something you can make LISTS about. I see so many posts about productivity, but they're all the same, written in bullet pointed lists, and I can't help but scroll past. I'm not sorry.

Your niche can be anything! Travel, if you love popping that booty on top of Mt. Everest, cooking, if you like crying while cutting onions, animals, if you're always found at a zoo (and if assuming a homo sapien is reading this, not in the enclosures).

You can mix niches up too! If you like cooking AND animals, maybe start writing about cooking for your Labrador. If you like travel AND dancing, write about how you're blending different cultures by performing Kathak in Mexico.

For eg, I love humor and conquering. Thus I write about becoming a superwoman of life while wearing funky underwear, because that is funny and you have to accept, goodnight.

2. Have Unpopular Opinions.

Have something different to say, Henry! Stop fitting into the crowds, that spiffy red underwear was MEANT to stand out.

Your articles need to bring something new. I've said this to every new studyblr wanting advice and I say it to you too: stand out.

This doesn't mean being an asshole and using the lamest slang in your posts (lmao fun fact, I learnt a new insult — cockalorum — last week, made my day) nor does it mean starting a revolution about drinking water from plates (I'll join).

If simply means bringing something new to the table. And THAT comes in 3 different cuisines:

1. Quality.

In short: put in major work into your article. This is how most of my articles stand out from everyone else's I read on this site — they have a whole lot of work put into them.

Don't believe me? Read the How To Not Be Depressed article, it's a MARATHON of an novel. Over 13 pages, 7000 words, lame humor included. Please love me now.

2. Content.

Bring new content, Maria! The heck is wrong with people giving the same tips of drinking water again and again?

Standing out can also mean giving new ideas. How can you do that? Exercise your idea muscle (write 10 ideas everyday) and consume content that will help you create.

For eg, consider 5 reasons why you're unhappy. Sounds pretty ordinary, right? You'd expect me to give you tips about petting dogs and buying flowers. Yet they include five majorly radical ideas which, if implemented, would change your life (thoroughly tested on a guinea pig named Nandini).

3. Mission Drink Water From Plates.

This one's going all IN. This is about leaving the crowd, standing on top of a cliff, blaring the Lion King theme song and proudly posing in your red underwear. Write about your core, deepest beliefs, no matter how much hate you get, because—I kid you not—these are the posts which will help you find your squad.

Lemme elaborate. Some of my core beliefs include:

Love yourself for what you are and accept yourself fully. I have a ritual, where I get out of the shower every morning, stand in front of the mirror naked and tell myself: “Nandini, I love and accept yourself for what you are.”

You've gotta stand out.

You're tired because you're doing things you dislike, so do something about it.

Live with urgency but know that you have enough time.

Be patient, dear heart (my tagline for now)

I've talked about these and more in a lot of my posts, and I've gotten hate for it. Funnily, I've also found had the best people messaging me and telling me my red underwear smells a bit but is the shiniest, coolest thing they've seen.

I think I'll take it.

3. Know Your Priorities With What You’re About To Write.

Lastly, know your priorities while writing. This means knowing yourself, because ultimately, you write because it pleases you, and you love doing it. (If you're writing for some other reason, please don't. Try audio or video formats instead.)

When you're starting writing, ask yourself: if I was reading this, what things would I like to know?

When I started writing this series, I knew I'd like to know:

What should I write about (Answer = your niche)

Will people hate me if I write about how productivity sucks? (Answer = some will, some won't, it'll help you find your squad so do it anyway)

What about drinking from plates? That was a cool idea (Answer = let's get help and chat afterwards)

What the writer's writing process is (post two!)

Other tips the writer would give for nonfiction work (post three!)

How do I get more views on my articles (post four!)

And so, the Become A Writing Machine series was born.

Lastly know yourself. My dual priorities while writing are:

1) bring major value about concerned topic

2) make people laugh  

So I'm out here with my tablet as my sword and hobo jokes as my shield. If you're someone who doesn't enjoy humor in articles, don't write jokes about lingerie! Do you, bro!

Ultimately remember, there are 8 billion humans on this earth. Some will hate who you are, others will love you with all your quirks. Stay true to yourself and you'll attract like-minded people. And hopefully, it'll be a band of badasses dedicated to living a life true to themselves, loving themselves and flashing their underwear. Love you Team Conquer.

(And that was the last underwear joke, I promise.)

(More to come later on.)

(Addio!)

💌 The End Card.

Related: How To Get Back Into The Creative Process (if you’re in a blogger’s block or experiencing painter’s pain)

Have something to say? I treasure all feedback! If this post inspired you to do something, or you wanna throw some love/constructive criticism at me— hop into my ask box, or reply to this post itself!

Thanks for dropping by! Major articles, like this one, come out every week! Join my taglist by to read them when they do. I also post daily wins, journal entries, rants & photos of my plant babies throughout the week, so follow me if you’re into conquering life. I vow to be the loudest cheerleader. ✧

Sending you love and good energy, talk soon.

Nandini 💌 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

[mindfulmcgivern]

20 Ways to Slow Down & Enjoy the Things that Matter

“For fast-acting relief, try slowing down.” — Lily Tomlin

Living a simple life is about taking the foot off the accelerator so you have the time to take a deep breath and appreciate the view.

Recently, I was in a book shop looking for some inspiration and a new book to read. After much indecision I found myself drawn to a book called “SLOW” by Brooke McAlary.

The beautiful crafted front cover grabbed my attention with 3 simple words: “Live life simply”.

Now the books in my hands had me hooked and excited to look inside. What sealed the deal and got the purchase over the line was a letter on page one from Brooke to the world. She wrote:

“Dear Mr and Mrs Jones,

I am writing to inform you of my withdrawal from the race to keep up with you. It has come to my attention that prolonged attempts to compete with you have been detrimental to my health, my bank account, my self-confidence and my ability to feel content. This is a price I am no longer willing to pay”.

I digested this 264 page book in less than a week.

The message of slowing down and simplifying life was something I have been striving towards for some time.  Reading Brooke’s journey reminded me the journey so far has been 100% worthwhile.

Similar to Brooke’s story, I got to a point where I didn’t want to feel I was competing with everyone around me. I wanted a life on my terms that offered balance. I didn’t want to feel like the running hamster on that ever turning wheel of life. Over time I feel I have achieved that vision.

What about you?

You will never get a Better Opportunity to Embrace a Slower Pace of life than Now!

With the consequences of Covid-19 the pace of life has dramatically slowed overnight. People have literally stopped running from one engagement to the next. Staying at home has become the new normal.

Demands have diminished. Daily routines have been interrupted. We suddenly have time.

What can we do with that time?

We have the opportunity to slow down.

Covid-19 is slowing the pace of life down all around the world. We virtually can’t go faster, so why not ease back and find a way how to enjoy what life can offer.

While the impact of the pandemic has been tough on our lives and mental wellbeing the enforced slowing down has many benefits worth exploring.

Remember when we would say, “I wish I had more time to do other things other than just work”. Well- guess what? You can!

The current moment offers a unique chance to push back against the cult of speed and to continue life in a slower, more meaningful way.

 Life before Covid-19

Before Covid-19 we had created a frantic lifestyle in which not a minute was wasted. The 24 hours of each day was carved up, dissected, and reduced to 10-minute blocks of efficiency.

·         We become agitated in the doctor’s surgery waiting for more than 5 minutes.

·         We grew frustrated with never ending traffic congestion.

·         We became annoyed by the supermarket lines.

·         We took our smartphones with us on holiday.

·         We would go through our emails at restaurants

·         We attended to our online bank accounts while walking in the park.

We had become slaves to our “urgent” appointments and to-do lists. Life was about speed.

An example of how the speed of our lives was increasing was conducted in the U.K by the University of Hertfordshire. Their study found the walking speed of pedestrians in 34 cities around the world had increased by 10% from 1995 to 2005.

What Does a Slow Living Lifestyle Really look like?

Sloww.co defines slow living as a conscious choice to push back against the state of constant busyness and “time poverty.” It’s an approach to life that emphasises balance and simplicity.

The lifestyle focus embraces :

·         Reflection and mindfulness

·         Savouring of lifes unique moments

·         Pacing activities rather than rushing

·         Connection with ourself and the world around us

·         Finding a life of purpose and meaning

·         Discovering a flow like state with everything we do

 Finding the Real you

Through the years of speed and busyness did you have those moments when you imagined this perfect time when you could be still and do the things you loved when you were younger?

Did you crave the opportunity to just be?

This restoration of our inner selves is the part of us that shouts out from afar. It’s the part of us that images, dreams and wants to question who we are and what is important?

We have been living too fast. We have sold our inner selves to the devil of speed, efficiency, money, hyper-connectivity, “progress.”

When we have the chance, like we do now, to slow and listen to our inner self we start to hear the breathing of our spirit. The awareness of those breaths shows us a way of living that releases us from being a prisoner of a hectic lifestyle. We are no longer held captive by the world around us.

What Slow Living isn’t

It’s useful to gain some perspective around the idea of slowing living and simple living.

What does it mean?

A good starting point is to understand what slow living isn’t.

An article called, “Slow Living 301: How to Start a Slow Living Lifestyle,” offers some great insights into breaking down perceived perceptions around slow living. Quoting the author Kyle Kowalski, she writes:

·         Slow living is about doing everything as slowly as possible: This is definitely one of the biggest misperceptions. Slow living is not about living your life in slow motion. It’s about doing everything at the right speed and pacing instead of rushing. Slow living isn’t about losing time by going slowly; it’s about gaining time by doing the things that are most important to you.

·         Slow living is the same as simple living: The theme was that you can live simply but not slowly, and you can live slowly but not simply. I’ve found that simple living is more focused on things (materialism, consumption, etc) and slow living is more focused on time (energy, balance, etc). Some of us choose to take the best of both worlds and live slowly and simply—think of it like a Venn diagram where there’s some overlap in the middle.

·         Slow living is about doing and being less: I read an article where the author said she was giving up slow living because she was “losing my identity.” While slow living eliminates the non essentials from your life, the intent is to free up time so you can be more.

·         Slow living is anti-technology: Slow living isn’t about traveling back in time. It’s about using technology as a tool instead of technology using you.

 Step 1: Where do we start?

Lifestyle habits do not change easily. There will always be some form of resistance to do things differently.   There needs to be a conscious effort to uncover our priorities and what inspires us in life if we want things to change.   The only way we can begin to uncover what change looks like for us is by questioning “WHY?”

What is important? What benefits are there to gain by changing to a slower simpler living lifestyle?

In her book “SLOW,” Brooke McAlary acknowledges the importance of understanding “Why?” She writes:“Having and knowing my Why helps me decide what actions to take”.

Through the process of discovery we will find our reason for wanting/needing to embrace a slower simpler life. It will establish our foundation that will support on the journey, especially when we may be confronted with doubt.

STEP 2: Unearthing what a slower simplified approach to life looks like.

What can we do to make life easier?

You may have found that the last few months have given you more time to think and reflect on what’s really important to you. When we slow down, we are more likely to gain value from the smaller things in our everyday existence. Simplifying our lives helps create unlimited possibilities for personal growth

For me I have found tapping into creativity has become a valued and rewarding new habit. With the extra time now available I am inspired to try writing blogs like the one you are reading now. I do not profess to be any good; yet it offers me an outlet to slow down and enjoy.

I look for nothing other than happiness from the process. It gives me a sense of direction and purpose I did not have before.

What are some changes you can make in your lifestyle to simplify your life?

20 Ways to Slow Down and Find Simplified Life

Sometimes we need a little inspiration to point us in the right direction.

If you need some great ideas how to transform your life, by choosing less, I highly recommend Leo Babauta at ‘Zen Habits’. A prolific blogger who offers some cool concepts we all can try to slow down and enjoy life:

1. Do less. It’s hard to slow down when you are trying to do a million things. Instead, make the conscious choice to do less.

2. be present. It’s not enough to just slow down — you need to actually be mindful of whatever you’re doing at the moment. That means, when you find yourself thinking about something you need to do, or something that’s already happened, or something that might happen … gently bring yourself back to the present moment. Focus on what’s going on right now.

3. Disconnect. Don’t always be connected. Being connected all the time means we’re subject to interruptions. We’re constantly stressed about information coming in; we are at the mercy of the demands of others. It’s tough to slow down when you’re always checking new messages coming in.

4. Focus on people. Too often we spend time with friends and family, or meet with colleagues, and we’re not really there with them. We talk to them but are distracted by devices. We are there, but our minds are on things we need to do. We listen, but we’re really thinking about ourselves and what we want to say. Just try being 100% there for the other person.

5. Appreciate nature. Take the time to go outside and really observe nature. Exercise outdoors when you can, or find other outdoor activities to enjoy such as nature walks, hiking, etc.

6. Learn to Eat slower. Be mindful of each bite. Appreciate the flavours and textures. Just focus on that one activity. No book, no phone.

7. Drive slower. Make it a habit to slow down when you drive. Appreciate your surroundings. Make it a peaceful time to contemplate your life, and the things you’re passing.

8. Find pleasure in chores. This is related to being present. Whatever you’re doing, be fully present. For example, when washing dishes, instead of rushing through it as a boring chore to be finished quickly, really feel the sensations of the water, the suds, and the dishes. It can really be an enjoyable task if you learn to see it that way. The same applies to other chores — washing the car, sweeping, dusting, laundry — and anything you do.

9. Single-task. Focus on one thing at a time. When you feel the urge to switch to other tasks, pause, breathe, and pull yourself back.

10. Breathe. When you find yourself speeding up and stressing out, pause, and take a deep slow breath. By fully focusing on each breath, you bring yourself back to the present, and slow yourself down. Next time you get into your car take a moment to take three deep breathes before turning on the engine.

11. Know what’s Important. The simple version of simplifying is “Identify what’s important, and eliminate the rest.” So take time to identify the most important things in your life.

12. Say No to Extra Commitments. Now that you’ve identified what’s important, you need to start saying “No” to things that aren’t on your important list.

13. Limit Tasks. Each morning, list your 1-3 most important tasks. Limiting your tasks helps you focus, and acknowledges you’re not going to get everything done in one day.

14. Carve out Un-distraction Time. When are you going to do your most important work? Schedule it with a block of time (1 hour, 2 hours, 3 hours, whatever works for you). Make this your most sacred appointment. Just do the most important task, then the next one if you have time.

15. Slow Down. We rush through our days, almost in a single frenetic anxiety-filled non-stop movement. Instead, slow down. Life won’t collapse if you aren’t rushing from task to task, email to email. You can pause, take a moment to reflect, smile, and enjoy the current task before moving on.

16. Create Space. We cram our tasks and meetings together, and leave no spaces between them. The space between things is just as important as the things themselves. Leave a little space between meetings, even tasks. Take a break. Enjoy the space.

17. Give yourself time to get ready and get there. If you’re constantly rushing to appointments in an anxious state, it’s because you haven’t allowed enough time.

18. Practice being comfortable with doing nothing. One thing I’ve noticed is that when people have to wait, they become impatient or uncomfortable. Try standing in line and be patient.

19. Realize that if it doesn’t get done, that’s OK. There’s always tomorrow. The world likely won’t end if you don’t get that task done today.

20. Get in touch with your Creativity. Tap into your artistic side.

 What Does the Future look like Beyond Covid-19

We all will at some point emerge from the restrictions imposed by Covid-19. Therefore, it is essential we purposely try and maintain the lessons we have learnt and experienced from living a slower life.

We do not want to get suckered back on the merry go round of a fast paced life.

A recent research article by Giana Eckhardt and Katharina Husemann addresses this very point. ‘How to maintain a slower pace of life after lockdown,’ offers three key areas of focus:

1.       Slowing down your body

If possible, resist the urge to re-connect with fast modes of transport to get to and from work such as the bus and train.

Try to continue with slower methods of moving such as walking or cycling. Besides the physical benefits their research indicates a slower pace allows for a stronger connection for deep reflection between body and mind.

2.       Controlling your technology use

During lockdown, technology has been used to revitalize meaningful connections to those important to us. It has been beneficial reinforcing close connections around the world.

They urge us to continue these meaningful practices as you emerge from lockdown. This helps cultivate long lasting close communities, rather than shallow and short, relations with others.

 3.       Limiting your activities

During lockdown, activities and choices were limited such as fast food and dining experiences.

They remind to try and remember the feeling of making your own food, and sharing it with your household, rather than running back to eating out and on the go. As some form of normality resumes try to maintain practices like stopping work to eat your lunch in the middle of the day, and continue to take breaks, preferably with others and outdoors when you can.

  Moving Forward

At some point, Covid-19 will pass. There will be staggering loss and enormous economic devastation. That tragedy cannot be overstated. For years, we will be trying to rebuild the broken world. But perhaps the slower lifestyle in these months can help put the pieces back together. And perhaps a more contemplative, deliberate way of living can become permanent.

So how can we use the lessons of the last few months to rebalance our lives?

Could you spend a bit less time socialising?

Could you negotiate longer-term homeworking so you don’t lose time to commuting?

If you don’t practice being present, slowing down, enjoying the moment right now, when will you practice?

What are you practicing now instead?

Resetting boundaries around your time is key – try taking some control back and say ‘no’ to something if it doesn’t align with your new slower pace.

It could be meditation, a walk in a park, reading a book or simply having a slower morning. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as it makes you happy and it’s something that allows you to remain calm and stress-free.

Don’t allow this major time in our lifetime go to waste. Purposely embrace a slower living simpler lifestyle.

What actions can you take to make a difference?

[lesty-xx]

thank you @fanfictiongreenirises for tagging me! The last part was especially fun (haha, are you happy I’m actually doing these now, now you’re not tagging me in vain!)

rules: spell out your url with song titles, answer the quarantine questions, and bold the things that apply - then tag 10 people

This is quite long so I dumped everything under the cut =D

let's goooooooooo

L - Learn to Let Go by Kesha

E - Eden by Sara Barellies

S - Something by The Beatles

T - Treacherous by Taylor Swift

Y - You Gotta Die Sometime by Andrew Rannells in Falsettos

I have no songs for X, I know none, I have over 2,000 songs in iTunes and not ONE starts with X, so I think we're stopping here then? This is a sign that I need to evolve out of 2012 and remove the "-xx" from my user name.

~*~

where are you isolated?? at home! I’m quite lucky because I get to hang out with my dog everyday

what are you currently reading or watching?? I'm rewatching Doctor Who right now! I went in reverse order by doctor (13, then 12, then 11, etc) but having to witness Clara die then seeing her again all bright and bubbly with 11 was painful, and I realised I couldn't go through that pain again with Rose so I skipped 10 and went onto 9. I'm now half way through 10's first season, and I’m so excited for when Martha and Donna rock up as the God Tier companion duo of NuWho

if you can go outside, what do you like to do during this time?? Sometimes I sit in the backyard and listen to the birds, my dog likes to come out with me and roll in the grass.

any fascinating concept you’re studying?? ummmmm I've just finished all my uni coursework (just finishing up a prac assignment at this rate), but the most interesting thing I got to study this semester was the development of white nationalism as a culture. It was awful and somewhat traumatising at times, but thoroughly interesting in a perverse, macabre way. 

what kind of acts of creativity/forms of art are you currently doing?? I'm kind of flip flopping between different things because I keep getting new ideas of things to try. I've been writing, experimenting with new watercolour techniques, I did some spray painting and gave myself a minor asthma attack, it's been fun!

a song that resonates with your state of mind at the moment?? Kings and Queens by Ava Max! It's such a great bop to jump around in your bedroom to, and lately that's been my perpetual state of being

favourite impulsive/”bad” coping techniques?? p r o c r a s t i n a t i o n, I keep waking up going "okay, I'll get this thing done", but first I've got to shower, then I need to have a coffee - oh, that one didn't wake me up enough, better have another one! Oh no, now I have too much energy, let's do some spontaneous cardio in the living room, oops, now I need another shower - and then this just continues until it's 10pm where I'm like "ah, now it's too late to start anything, I’ll do it tomorrow".

favourite healthy/”good” coping techniques? I'm starting to exercise which I thought I'd hate but I'm actually enjoying, it’s nothing intense or committed, but it’s nice to get some movement into my life.

~*~

APPEARANCE i’m over 5′5″. i wear glasses / contacts. i have blonde hair. i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing. i have one or more piercings. i have at least one tattoo. i have blue / green eyes. i have dyed or highlighted my hair. i have gotten plastic surgery. i have or had braces. i sunburn easily. i have freckles. i paint my nails. i typically wear makeup. i don’t often smile. i am pleased with how i look. i prefer nike to adidas. i wear baseball hats backwards.

HOBBIES AND TALENTS i play a sport. i can play an instrument. i am artistic. i know more than one language. i have won a trophy in some sort of competition. i can cook or bake without a recipe. i know how to swim. i enjoy writing. i can do origami. i prefer movies to tv shows. i can execute a perfect somersault. i enjoy singing. i could survive in the wild on my own. i have read a new book series this year. i enjoy spending time with friends. i travel during school or work breaks. i can do a handstand.

RELATIONSHIPS i am in a relationship. i have been single for over a year. i have a crush. i have a best friend i have known for ten years. my parents are together. i have dated my best friend. i am adopted. my crush has confessed to me. i have a long distance relationship. i am an only child. i give advice to my friends. i have made an online friend. i met up with someone i have met online.

AESTHETICS i have heard the ocean in a conch shell. i have watched the sunrise. i enjoy rainy days. i have slept under the stars. i meditate outside. the sound of chirping calms me. i enjoy the smell of the beach. i know what snow tastes like. i listen to music to fall asleep. i enjoy thunderstorms. i enjoy cloud watching. i have attended a bonfire. i pay close attention to colours. i find mystery in the ocean. i enjoy hiking on nature paths. autumn is my favourite season.

MISCELLANEOUS i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle. i am the mom friend. i live by a certain quote. i like the smell of sharpies. i am (was) involved in extracurricular activities. i enjoy mexican food. i can drive a stick-shift. i believe in true love. i make up scenarios to fall asleep. i sing in the shower. i wish i lived in a video game. i have a canopy above my bed. i am multiracial. i am a redhead. i own at least three dogs.

Tagging: It’s been so long since I was active on tumblr that I kinda feel at a loss at who to tag, so this is basically my awkward way to reach out to some mutuals who I still see on my dash and adore even though I never speak to you because communication and I *are not* on speaking terms

@ohloverbcy @hiimcanadia @just-emerly @dirigibleplumbing @hailey813 @funky-lil-cowgirl-yeehaw @protectcombeferre @shakespeareanqueer (there’s no pressure to do this btw! I’m just stumbling back into this website with a flickering torch)

[shophotlavablog]

Inspo: Lizzy Alvarado

Lizzy went from an internship at Steakworld to a career woman at depop. One of my favorite Lizzy stories is that she used the tips from a post I made on tumblr about” how to land an internship” ON me and got the job.  Now She is the the marketing manager at Depop and constantly making waves. She is always inspo for Hot Lava design and aesthetic so I wanted to highlight this hustler to inspire everyone to seize the moment and make it happen for yourself.

Q: What have you been working on lately?

With my job everything has turned digital, which has been a crash course on how to do an event in digital format. So, I’ve been doing a lot of [Instagram] lives with different artists and trying to bring the energy that I used to do with my work IRL to digital, so it’s kind of been a challenge, but it’s been fun.

At home, kind of just nesting it up. I feel like every few weeks I realize how long we’re going to be in quarantine—so I, like, redo my house a different way, so I think it’s kind of nice because since quarantine started I’ve really settled into my house. I have a lot of house plants and cats, so I’m kind of like trying to keep everything alive.

Q: What are some things you’ve been doing to prioritize “me time”?

I think by making myself a challenge. Right now, me and my best friend are doing this workout challenge, where we FaceTime each other and do the workout at the same time. It’s been my mental and physical entertainment, and gives me something I have to be held accountable for, like trying to workout and having a goal.

Recently, I took a week off. Even though were working from home I don’t think it’s the same as when you’re working; you always have to take a little break and reset and a lot of my coworkers and myself have not given ourselves that, because we’re working at home, when are we going to take that time and just sit? But recently I took a whole week off and I didn’t answer one Zoom meeting or do anything. For me, that reset my whole mindset and gave me time to just think about the reality of the position we’re all in, and my reality, like what I need to do instead of living in limbo of half doing things because I’m waiting for us to be out of quarantine his life for now just telling yourself that you need to adjust at least until like January or something for now and just set my dates back, pushing things back as things happen.

I feel like I’ve been working later and more sporadically when I’m working from home because you can just check your messages or your computer whenever, and you can get up and see the dishes are piling up and spent two hours cleaning your kitchen, and then you have to make up for it, and then you’re working until nine or something, so it’s definitely a balance figuring it all out.

Q: Can you give us a small walk through on how you started out in your career, and what younger you would need to hear to get where you are?

I started off by doing a PR internship in NY that was focused on beauty products. It was there that I learned a few hard truths like the "top 10 best products for glowing skin" mentioned in vogue was actually just a list of products that various PR agencies were able to pay off editors to add. It just didn't sit right to me and I didnt end up staying at the agency after my internship, but it did spark something in me about promoting products that I did like and that aligned with my values: sustainability, female owned brands, etc.

One great thing about my time in NY is that's where I happened to meet my boyfriend on one fateful night out at Max Fish which is usually the opposite of the place you meet your soulmate lol. Anyways fast forward a few months and  I ended up moving to LA for said boyfriend and had to completely start over. I had no connections in LA, no friends, and at that point was still too early in my career for my resume to stick out of a pile. The start was rough and I had to get PT jobs to make money while I figured out what the fuck I was going to do in this new place where people usually move to with very specfic big dreams.

Now to the good part, the part where HOT LAVA started it all for me. Rachael loves this story and I didn't actually admit it to her until several months after working for her. Basically I had been reading her advice column Steaktalk for a long time and she had a post about how to get a job. Literally she broke down how to set up your resume, cover letter, and mentioned ways to set yourself apart from the rest. Well I used it to apply for an internship with her and it worked! Once I had that experience in LA under my belt I was able to transition into a brand manager for The Cobra Shop which was right next door to the HL office and eventually I started working for Depop as a Marketing Manager which is where I am today.

Q: Tell me your most embarrassing moment in your current career/ relationship/ creative endeavor:

That’s a tough one. I feel like when you’re first starting out, everything feels embarrassing. I remember the first time I came to Hot Lava—I didn’t do anything I can think was embarrassing, but like, being embarrassed of my existence of just not knowing how to interact with people. Because when you just see everything online, when you finally meet people in person, sometimes it can be really overwhelming. It’s kind of funny to just be embarrassed for being yourself sometimes, but I feel like you grow out of it.

Q: Do you think about where you’d like to be in 5 years or even 1 year, or are you more of the “in the moment type”?

I am more of a person who is in the moment. I do think of where I want to be in five years but I don’t hang onto that title too much, because I think if I think, “In five years I want to be a CEO,” and right now I’m just a marketing manager, in my head I’m like, “What am I doing? I’m just out here everyday not doing that.”

I feel like I live in the moment as far as knowing that, if you are in the moment, it’s going to pay off in the future. If I do work on whatever I’m supposed to be doing at the time, or whenever I’m given the opportunity to do that, then yeah, it will pay off in the end.

I don’t think my career really started to move until I was able to accept being in the moment. For me, when I think about my jobs and how I got to being hostess in New York, to being a dog walker and now to becoming a marketing manager, I don’t think I was able to do that until I was able to say that I just need to live in the moment and get that job to make money right now.

I knew I thought I could do something great but I wasn’t able to do anything great until I was able to sit myself down and handle the basics like, get a job—not “the” job, but a job, and just do OK at that, get your money right, and get to the right place. And slowly I was able to start looking for internships and then I was able to get one. Then it just grew from there.

I feel like if I was living with my head in the clouds, thinking about the future, I wouldn’t have been able to do that because I wouldn’t have accepted just getting a basic job for now.

Q: What causes you stress and how do you ease those stresses?  

Prioritizing my work/home life tasks stress me out, especially working from home RN if you have a deadline but also a pile of dishes to do it's hard to ignore that when you aren't able to leave the house and ignore the home life stuff. I try to read self help books, make lists, ect. The biggest help is self talk and just reminding myself that the world won't just because your todo list isn't complete.

Q: Name one hobby:

I really like going out and riding my bike, so finding places are safe right now has kind of been the thing. I don’t go mountain biking or anything, I like riding my bike in a nice/safe area. I also don’t want to be in the city, so I’ve been looking for national parks nearby and local areas where you can do a 14 mile bike ride or something. I used to live in New York and I would ride my bike everyday, so I used to ride 25 miles a day, but now it’s like 12 miles I’ll make a whole day out of it.

I also really like music, but it’s sort of like a personal thing. I write songs and work on stuff, but I’ve never thought of it as something I’d do in reality. But, I’ve been doing that a lot more since we’ve been in quarantine.

Q: One thing you always tell your best friend:

I mean I tell her everything. I literally have become attached to Facetime with her daily since quarantine started. It's kind of a nice thing because she lives all the way in Texas so being stuck inside has brought us closer. I used to call her every couple of days and give her the highlight reel of my week but now it's like every 3 hours and life is so boring stuck inside that no detail is spared.

Q: If you wrote a book what would the title be and why?

Scared for No Reason: Why Doubting Yourself is Your Downfall.

I feel like there are already many books about this subject but I haven't found one I really connected to specifically. One of my biggest realizations in life is how much fear has stopped me from doing things I am actually really passionate about or interested in. I am still on the road to ultimate confidence (giving myself a deadline of reaching age 30 for this), but a lot of things changed in my life when I pushed past the fear and doubt that is a big part of my inner voice. A few examples are applying for internships that have led to my career (thanks Hot Lava), talking to my boyfriend who I have now been with for 5 years, walking up to a brand's creative director and telling them I can produce content for them and making that my side gig. The point is none of this would have happened if I was listening to that fear voice in my head saying I'm not good enough, pretty enough, or qualified enough.

Q: What's your favorite Hot Lava piece and why?

My fav Hot Lava piece recently would have to be the bike shorts or zebra dress just from a design perspective. I think the team really hit the nail on the head and created trending pieces in a unique Hot Lava style. My all time fav piece and first piece I ever bought is the surf top! I purchased the first one HL ever produced the night it launched in 2014 or 15? Its white and has an eye! But I love the cut the most. I have it in black and lime green too. It's just the perfect top, a contrast of modesty with the high neck but also sexy with the tightness.

What's on Lizzy's Playlist:

[s-ultry]

i’m speaking to your boss - joe mazzello imagine

[ CEO!Joe ]

A/N: heyo my fellow bad bitchesss, so yeah here’s one i’ve been desperate on writing and completing. + its my bday so like why not bless yall with this fucking dADDY. hope you guys enjoy! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

WARNINGS: JUST YOU BEING A TOTAL BADDIE! + teasing lol why not.

SUMMARY: Your boss has been nonstop bothering you about your work methods, and your late (but in reality early) arrivals. Joe noticed your stress and decided to talk to your boss, your boss not knowing you’re actually married. ;)

It was yet another morning of torture, you had just arrived to your desk when you heard your boss scream your name from her office. Her voice was loud, as your desk was a hallway away from her luxurious office. 

You scrambled to her office with her morning ginger and espresso shots, which was a very weird mixture right at the break of day. Being an assistant wasn’t very easy, especially Mrs. Cordelia. Your dream was to be a fashion magazine art director, for your name to be known for your hard work and creativity.

But, you were stuck with an assistant job.

“Y/N?!?! Where have you been! I have been waiting all day!” The blond haired lady frantically screamed at you as she was typing on her smartphone. 

“Mrs. Cordelia I-,” you tried to explain, but she cut you off. “No, Y/N. Save it! I am too nice to you by letting you come in at 10! Be here tomorrow at 9:30! I have a visitor and I want to make the best impression, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mrs. Cordelia.”

“And buy some new work clothes, the black button up makes you look fatter, which is impossible cause the colour black makes you skinnier,” she sternly judged glancing at your normal work outfit.

“I’ll get right on it, madam.” You internally huffed closing her office door behind you. 

After what felt like a light year, you were finally done with work and decided to head to the mall to get some new clothes for Mrs. Cruella De Vil. You bought new shirts, which were white and made of silk with a matching black pencil skirt.

You drove to your shared house with your husband, Joe. After the success with his recent movies with his 3 best friends, Joe built an empire and is now the CEO of a fashion company. 

Of course, he offered you a job. But, you wanted to earn your spot rather than get it out of pity. You finally drove up to your driveway and thanked the universe for getting away from the epitome of the devil, you couldn’t wait to change out of your clothes and cuddle with Joe.

Your shared home wasn’t too big, but it was the perfect size. You had a small library connected to the office, an underground gym, and two floors. It was perfect for a family, which you were hoping to consider soon.

You removed and placed your heels by Joe’s loafers, running up the stairs you rushed to your room and kept the bags on your grey couch that was in front of your king sized bed. 

You promptly entered your walk in closet and changed into an oversized knit sweater with matching knee high socks. Those pants were unbearable, so you decided to let your legs breathe without wearing anything.

You headed to Joe’s office where you can hear his fingers tapping quickly on the designated letters, you lightly knocked letting yourself in. He looked up and saw the tired look on your face, without any words, he ushered you to sit with him. Well, on him.

“What’s wrong, my love,” your husband weakly smiled combing his fingers through your hair. Joe then pulled you closer to him, with your legs draping across his thighs. 

“Mrs. Cordelia,” you huffed as you snuggled into his neck. His scent intoxicating you, you whined as his hands smothered your body with love and affection.

“It’s okay, kitten. She’ll be better,” he whispered into your ear as his hand trailed closer and closer to your inner thigh. Your whimpered as his hand past by his most prized possession, making its way to your neck. 

Joe gently grasped your throat forcing your gaze to meet his, you knew that he was going to say something that’ll make you orgasm on the spot. The way his eyes were hooded with lust and dominance, he was a CEO after all.

“No one overworks you, sugar. Only I do,” he growled. Your breathing got heavy, you loved it when he teased. But, you were an absolute mess above and under him. 

He then gently grabbed you closer, placing his plump lips against yours. Yes, it’s year 2 of your marriage, but damn you always had explosives in your stomach when he placed his lips against yours.

“Go sleep, my love. You’ll be needing your energy for another day with her,” Joe sincerely announced carrying you to your shared room. 

“It’s only 10!” You squealed as he tickled your sides when you were gently put onto your bed. The brunette then tucked you in lovingly, placing a kiss onto your forehead.

“Goodnight, babygirl,” his words ran down his lips with warmth, making your heart flutter as he turned off the lights. Your sleepiness then made its attack as your eyes closed quickly making you fall into a dreamless slumber.

It’s the next morning, and you wake up groaning into your pillow. It was 7, and Mrs. Cordelia demanded you to bring coffee for her and her visitor, apparently they booked for an early meeting.

Glancing to your side, you realised that your lover was not snoring lightly like he always does. But, a note was there instead.

Had to go to an early meeting, see you when I get home. I love you.

- Joe

You read the words a loud, you smiled in content because he knew how much you worried about his departures. Especially when he got to work from home, which was most of the time. 

You then walked into your bathroom getting ready for yet another gruesome day, basically everyday. You decided to elegantly curl your hair, seeing that you have the time in the world. 

You mainly focused on your eyes with makeup, just winged eyeliner and a light brown eyeshadow shade. With your face, you always went for a glowy look, but not too obvious. 

You were done with getting ready, and now it was time to get changed. You were going to go for the set that you recently purchased, but thought about a black turtleneck with the black pencil skirt paired with red heels. A chic yet not too vibrant look.

You ran downstairs when you came to the realisation that it was 5 minutes to 9, and the coffee shop was far from the office. You saw that your husband made a to go bag, and you couldn’t be more blessed with this man. 

You hurdled to your car, racing out you made your way to the coffee shop to get your boss and her guest two macchiatos. You speeded your way through the cars and into the parking garage, you ran to the elevator and prayed that you weren’t even a minute late.

9:29 AM

You basically fell over your desk with the coffee cups in both of your hands, you also got scones because you knew she’d scream at you if you didn’t get her guest “something to eat”.

Your alarm buzzed as the time struck 9:30 AM, you sighed in relief as you made your way through the cold hall towards a cold blooded snake. 

You faintly knocked on the door, hearing her reply for you to enter, you made your way to her large meeting table and placed the order down. Looking down, you didn’t realise the visitor until he coughed loudly.

You glimpsed at the man with the black suit, his white dress shirt unbuttoned to buttons down revealing skin. His brown hair fluffly tossed around. his cufflinks shining as the sun hit it, and his extremely large hands. 

Hands that you were oh so familiar with. There he sat, your husband in all his glory as he glanced back at you. Your cheeks were greeted with a deep red tint as you stood by Mrs. Cordelia.

“Oh, Mr. Mazzello, I forgot to introduce you to my assistant,” the blond announced staring daggers into you to introduce yourself.

“Hi, Mr. Mazzello. I’m Ms. Y/F/N,” you smirked shaking his hand. Joe knew the exact game you were playing, using your maiden name instead of your shared one. And, you definitely knew you were going to get punished for this, but who cares, right?

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Y/F/N,” the CEO weakly smiled at you. “Oh, you’re so kind. Joe,” your boss laughed touching your husband’s arm, stroking it gently.

This is when you were furious, no one could touch your husband. Well, Ben can cause they’re stuck together like glue, but other than him. No one. 

Your heart escalated, Joe knew exactly what you were going to do, and he didn’t mind watching a show. 

“Y/N, get me next week’s issue so I show Mr. Mazzello a sneak peak,” she fakely smiled at you demanding you to get her the files. The desk wasn’t that far from the meeting table, so you could hear their conversation.

“Mrs. Cordelia, I’m flattered. But, I have a wife,” your husband spoke sophisticatedly. 

“I don’t see your wife around,” Mrs. Cordelia seductively teased. This is when you sharply turned, you growled as you saw your boss’ hand riding up Joe’s thigh. 

You then strutted to the meeting table, throwing the files onto the table you slapped her hand off of your property.  

“How rude, Y/N! Hitting your own boss in front of her guest! Would you want me to fire you,” she shouted grasping her hand as though she was hurt.

“Why are you touching him, he has a wife!”

“Why do you care so much, huh? She’s not around! I bet she’ll love talking to me about her creative, sexy, and smart husband,” Mrs. Cordelia smirked standing up to reach your height.

“I don’t think she will,” you hissed crossing your arms so you wouldn’t throw a punch at her jaw.

“And why is that?” Your boss cackled as she stepped closer to you.

“Because,” you smirked evilly as you pushed her hair back gently. Your lips made their way up to her ear, the silence spoke louder than the both of you.

“You’re talking to the wife,” you whispered with venom laced around your words, and a smirk plastered Joe’s lips as he saw you dominate someone else who’s twice your size.

“Sit down, Cordelia,” you spat making her sit down. She wasn’t scared at all, which made your blood boil even more.

“Listen up, bitch. I get that my husband is creative, sexy, and smart. But, the last time I checked, I have the rock on my finger. You’re too fucking blind to notice my last name is Mazzello, and not Y/F/N,” you then moved to tower her fragile little body that you broke with just your eyes.

“Plus, you were touching MY property. Oh! I totally forgot! You have a husband right? What if I told you that you made a move on his ally, ruining his company and making ours strive higher.”

“Y/N, I can fire you. Well, you’re already fired for threatening your boss,” she smugly replied crossing her legs.

“That’s a threat to you? I feel sorry for your enemies, that’s a threat? Let me tell you a threat. Lay a finger on my man again, and trust me the only thing that’ll be going down that throat of yours is your last paycheck,” you growled as you felt a hand wrap around your waist.

“And, Cordelia. I talked with your bosses, as of now, I bought the whole company. Don’t you dare insult my wife, ever, you understand,” his voice now deep and dominant.

You couldn’t help but squeeze your legs together, your arousal to his voice created a knot in your whole body.

“Leave my office, and don’t think about your stuff. We’ll have someone send it for you, with your paycheck wrapped around a tiny dildo, maybe that’ll make you cum faster,” you barked as Joe’s grip grew tighter onto your waist.

“Behave, little girl,” your husband huskily growled in your ear as your former boss left the room in tears. She deserved it, after years of torture, you finally got your revenge. 

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then, I’ll have you over my lap with your perky ass up in the air for me. You’ll get spanked so hard that you won’t be able to walk into your new office that I just got for you, or wear that tight little skirt that you’re wearing right now,” he placed both of his hands on your waist and slapped your ass lightly.

You whined as you glanced up at him with your innocent eyes, you pecked his lips and fluttered your eyelashes.

“Take me home, and fuck me.”

“What’s the magic word, baby.”

“Please, Joe,” you whimpered as his breath fanned over your clothed neck.

“Your wish is my command, doll. But, you’re getting punished for being a bad girl,” he whispered in your ear as you made your way out of the office.

And that was when you couldn’t wait to go home.