#Julie procrastinates by giving people some well deserved love? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hatsukeii · 4 years ago

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One where y/n has been obviously in love with Tsuki since they were kids and not afraid to show it, but he’s always been lowkey mean to her and thinks she’s annoying and then finally years later she decides he’s not a nice guy and let’s him know she’s fine with all that crap and then he realizes he’s falling for her and does something really sweet for her and they fall in love? 😭😭🥺👉🏻👈🏻 ty in advance. Sorry if this is too long or specific, if it is, feel free to ignore

I genuinely hope you didn’t think I would actually ignore this<33

IM SORRY IM A MASTER PROCRASTINATOR ILY ALL AND YOU ALL DESERVE AN APOLOGY FROM ME

Dear diary//Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Cursing

Genre: Angst??? I guess???

Summary: He’s an ass, but you still love him to bits, and it’s killing you.

July 16, 2008

Dear Diary,

I got to play with Tsukki again! He had his dino with him, it was super cute! He told me his front teeth came off last night, and there’s a big hole in his teeth, but it’s okay, because he said it will grow back. I tried to hold his hand while going down the twin slides but he said it was sweaty, so next time I’ll wear gloves!

You flip through the hot pink diary, cringing at your young infatuation. Your diary entries were cringey as fuck, but they always rekindle something within you whenever you read them. You can’t even remember when you stopped writing in the book. Was it when you turned 10? Maybe 12? You don’t have a single clue.

April 30, 2011

Dear Diary,

Tsukki refused to marry me in the playground at break:(( I’ve known him for so long though, aren’t we supposed to get married? I just wanna hold his hand and hug him and give him a biiiiig kiss<33

Chuckling at the memory, you recalled the event from that entry clearly. You were seven years old only, still an immature kid. You still thought that getting married in a middle school playground was a huge milestone in life, almost as crucial as a legal marriage.

May 29, 2016

Dear Diary,

Love how Tsukki didn’t even remember my birthday:,) Must be nice getting made fun of. Half the students in my class felt my second hand embarrassment from when he completely forgot about it. God, why am I even in love with this asshole? I’m gonna have to go to school tomorrow and deal with all my classmates making fun of me for being hopeless. Brb, currently digging a hole for myself:)

Frowning at the memory, you think back to when you were twelve. He was an asshole then, still is an asshole to this day. And yet not an ounce of your unconditional love and support for him has faded. Grabbing a tissue, you wipe the remaining tears from your eyes, ignoring the dried tear stains on your cheek. Your hand slams onto the bedside table, lazily feeling for your phone. Tilting it towards your face, you sigh at the empty lock screen, accepting defeat. Flicking through the rest of the book, you are welcomed by pages and pages of white. “So that’s when I gave up on this diary...” you mutter to yourself as you lift yourself up from your bed. Heading towards your desk, you absentmindedly grab yourself a pen, notebook in hand. Slamming the diary down, you open it up to the next entry page after your last one, gently placing the tip of your pen on the first line. You grab your hair out of frustration, the ink bleeding into the thin paper. “What to do, what to do...?” You mumble, starting to form sentences in your notebook.

July 17, 2020

Dear Diary,

It’s been a while hasn’t it? Holy shit, all my entries were about Tsukki weren’t they? Jesus, of course they were. At least I was able to get it off my chest this afternoon. Telling him that I’ve been in love with him for years, that was fucking terrifying. Telling him that although I know he’s an ass, an animatronic dick complete with ballsack, that won’t stop me from falling harder, it was gut wrenching, but also relieving to a certain degree. I’m still waiting for some form of response, although I’m not sure I’m gonna get one anytime soon. I can’t decide whether telling him was the dumbest or bravest decision I’ve made. Maybe it was both. Just wait until I look back on this entry like a decade later and still cry about it lmao. Tbh he’s a genuinely nice person at heart. I know that all too well. He may be an ass most the time, and he may think I’m annoying, but despite how hard he tries to push me away, I’ll never abandon him. Jesus Christ, I sound like a yandere here, but it’s not that. It’s that I care for him a lot. Maybe even a bit too much. It’s ridiculous how absolute and utter shit a crush can make you feel.

Throwing the pen down, you flop back onto your bed, huffing into the thick blankets. You stay silent, not sure of what to think of the situation. “I’ll just deal with it all tomorrow, I’m tired of this shit.”

On the other side of the incident, Tsukishima is currently going through a mental crisis.

The blond sits at his desk, eyes unwavering, but focusing on nothing. It feels as if he hasn’t blinked in what seemed to be hours. Just hours of staring at his wall that led to nothing. Your confession plays in his head nonstop, like a broken record that refused to run out of battery.

“The thing is I like you. I’m pretty sure I always have. And I know that you’re such an asshole and all that, you won’t treat me as well as people would expect, but it’s fine. I’m fine with all that. All the dumb, stupid, careless insults you’ll throw at me, the side eyes and sneers, telling me to shut up and go away, I’m fine with it. I know you’re a good person, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Well shit what the fuck do you want me to say?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

Maybe he should have let you down slowly.

But as he stares at his wall, the photos of the two of you framed and balanced on his floating shelves, he starts to reconsider his feelings.

The way your expression faltered then as you hastily took your bag and rushed away without a single word, the way you avoided him in the halls, the way you stopped talking to him throughout the day, it drove him crazy. He couldn’t handle the realisation that he hurt you so incredibly badly, so now all he can do is stare at his empty, blank wall. Did he know why he felt that way? No. He didn’t and still doesn’t. He’s Tsukishima fucking Kei, the emotionless, provoking, unlikeable king, yet a mere girl is somehow able to mess with his mind so badly, that all he can do is wallow in regret and confusion? What is this weird feeling? His throat itches, his heart is beating like crazy, sweat starting to gather around his temples. He clamps his two hands together, slamming his forehead onto them and squeezing his eyes shut.

How could I have been so dense?

How was he unable to see that you were absolutely in love with him? Even with the bento boxes, birthday gifts, constant compliments, he still only ever thought you liked him as a friend. However he never did. He likes you more than that. Way more. Yes, he thought, and still thinks you can be annoying at times, especially when you nag at him about not eating enough or being rude, but it was undeniable that there was something else he felt. But his stupid ass shitty ego would never let him admit it. And now that you finally confessed, he freaked out and fucked up. Even then, he didn’t think it would affect him to this extent.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you (Y/N).”

He says that over and over again, desperate to cloud out the disagreeing thoughts in his head that scream otherwise.

“It was a stupid middle school crush, I’m over you.”

The guilt didn’t go away.

In fact, now that he’s said all that, he feels even worse. Oh how much he wants to find you right this second, wrap you in his arms, tell you how incredibly sorry he is, but he can’t. He doesn’t deserve to do that. His heart is begging for him to just get out of the house and run to yours as fast as he could, but his body won’t move. He wants to cry. Scream. Shout. Throw something. Shatter something. But most of all, he wants to get another chance.

Picking up his phone, he hesitates, before typing in your contact, the cleared out, empty chatroom showing up on his screen. Going as fast as his fingers could, he typed out the one sentence he’s been dying to let out.

“It was a middle school crush, but I’m still into you. I always have been.”

Is it just me, or is this bad-

Idk man it seems like all my fics are pretty much the same and I hate it😌

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @justachillgirl @trashcanweeb @just-another-bored-writer @poppirocks @majorfangirl37 @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @itmekisuu @skyeackermans @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @shoutsukii @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @thirstyvolleyballhoe @iwaixiumi @iwaigroomi @inlwlevi

Feel free to comment or pm to be added to taglist!

I’m back to writing lmao I’m bored in two week quarantine rn

Edit: cue me realising I was half asleep and missed something in the request don’t be surprised if I repost this💀💀💀💀

Btw the hq manga just ended time to cry

💕💕💕💕

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

Text

Breakable Heaven (pt. III) - p.l. dubois

Part I II

Here’s part III! One more part after this, then we’re going to be finishing up our time with Laurel and Pierre-Luc. It’s seriously been so so much fun writing this over the past few weeks, and I’m excited to get to keep the story going. Many many thanks to @hockeyboysiguess for being a great sounding board for Breakable Heaven so far, my favorite response of hers to anything I’ve sent has got to be “that’s rude.” So, enjoy! Reblog if you enjoy it, come scream into my inbox, and I still read every tag!

Part III

July 10 (sat)

Laurel was exhausted. Two hours after the wedding, her and her meager bridal party had shown up to her house, piling everything she hadn’t yet brought over to Pierre’s apartment into her SUV and Madeline’s white sedan. She left her old apartment with the keys at the front office and one last wistful look into the place that had once been her own. She’d miss it, she thought, as she and Pierre drove down the Ville-Marie Expressway towards his apartment, her fingers still trying to get used to the feeling of having rings on it. She’d only lived in the space for a year, but it was in that building that she started her dream job, that space that she adopted her dog, that apartment where she met one of her best friends and that place where she got married.

They had spent a few hours half-heartedly unpacking her boxes; Laurel was excited to get settled in, but she was also the world’s worst procrastinator and even at 6 PM, all that she had managed to get done was folding some clothes and adding her book collection to the shelves in the living room. Pierre poked his head into the spare room — her room? — rolling his eyes when he saw her “progress.” “I was going to order in, what do you feel like?”

Laurel hung up a blazer in the closet. “Pizza?” she asked hopefully. “Though I’m really going to have to teach you to cook one of these days. We can’t survive off of take-out and pasta alone.”

“If that’s how you want to be,” he responded good-naturedly. “I’ll have you know that I can cook more than pasta, though.”

“Really?” Laurel asked, raising her eyebrows. “What’s the Chef Dubois specialty?”

“I make a mean salmon,” he replied, before returning to the living room. That was another thing she had to get used to quickly as soon as they started going through the marriage process: Québec didn’t allow for women to take their husbands’ names at marriage. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought too deeply about, but Laurel supposed she’d always assumed that she’d take her husband’s name when she got married. But then again, she always assumed she’d get married under normal circumstances. Her parents aside, Cloquet wasn’t an absurdly conservative town, but it was still certainly something of an anomaly for a married woman to still have her maiden name. Which is what she was now. A married woman. Oh God.

Pizza with white wine may not have been the most conventional choice, but it got the job done, Laurel thought as she lay in bed at half past midnight, the birds outside her door insisting on making her efforts to fall asleep as futile as her efforts to ignore them. She’d already been in bed for an hour; after dinner, her and Pierre watched a few episodes of Black Mirror — also probably not the best choice to do before bed, but oh well — before he wished her a good night’s sleep. She had taken a melatonin and drank a cup of tea before bed, put on a playlist full of rain noises, but nothing seemed to be working. Maybe it was because it was the first night in a new place, or the birds outside, or just the craziness and excitement of the day catching up to her.

Laurel felt like a child again as she padded over to Pierre’s room, like she was five and back in Minnesota, crawling into her parents’ bed after hearing a wolf howl somewhere on the property. But really, she didn’t really care what she had to do if it meant she could get a good night’s rest. She knocked lightly on his door, careful not to wake up the dogs, who had long since fallen asleep in a corner of the living room. “Mmm?” he answered. She turned the doorknob. God, I hope I didn’t wake him up. She didn’t, as it would turn out; Pierre was propped up on his headboard, scrolling through his phone as he moved his eyes from his screen to her figure in the doorway. “You good? Everything okay?”

Laurel shrugged, wiggling her hand. “I don’t know what it is, I tried everything but I’m just not able to get to sleep. I’d try and wait it out, but my sleep cycle will be thrown off for a week if I’m not able to get to bed tonight.”

He moved over from the middle, reaching over to the side of his bed and getting another pillow before throwing back the covers and patting the spot next to him. “C’mere.”

“Are you sure?” Laurel said, furrowing her brow, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was wearing an old t-shirt and panties, leaving very little to the imagination.

He nodded, putting his phone down on the nightstand, smiling softly at her. “Of course. What’s mine is yours, eh?” That was all it took for Laurel to climb into the right side, claiming it as her own, and throw the duvet over her body. She fell asleep almost instantly.

---

Laurel woke up to the unmistakable smell of bacon frying and the other side of the bed devoid of Pierre’s sleeping form. She straightened the bed before walking out, where she was greeted by two plates on the breakfast bar, a pot of coffee brewing, and her husband at the stove.

“I thought you said you couldn’t cook?” Laurel teased, leaning up against the granite countertop.

“Good morning to you too.” Pierre shrugged. “I hardly think being able to fry an egg and not burn toast qualifies as cooking, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Laurel stepped further into the kitchen, lightly dragging her fingers over his back in a silent thank you as she opened the cupboard. “Let me get the coffee, at least,” she said, grabbing two mugs off the shelf and the creamer out of the fridge. “How do you take yours?” Laurel asked, glancing at Pierre from the side as he buttered the toast.

“A little bit of cream, more sugar,” he replied, sliding the plates onto the bar as she handed him his mug. “Perfect,” he said, smiling. A few minutes into breakfast, with Laurel just about to crunch into her second piece of toast, he spoke again. “So, I was thinking…”

She nodded. “I should hope so?”

Pierre laughed, ducking his head. “I was going to post something about the wedding today, online and stuff, but wanted to check with you first.” They had spoken about it once or twice before the wedding, both of them knew that it wasn’t practical nor honest to think that they’d be able to keep the news from everyone over the entire duration of their temporary marriage. And part of the “sell,” part of what she needed to prove, was that their relationship was real. And real would mean posting about each other online, real would mean flying down a few times a month — thank God her schedule gave her a long weekend, and thank God the flight wasn’t too long — for games and galas and real would mean meeting his friends and him meeting her family and Laurel had to stop thinking about it all before her head exploded.

“Go for it,” she said. “I don’t like having to hide from it any more than you do, so it’ll be a relief to let everyone know, give a heads-up to the four people on my Instagram page who actually care about my life.

Pierre poked her arm. “Five, now.” He opened his phone, scrolling through the pictures Madeline had sent from yesterday. She had run a small side business doing photography in university, and insisted on taking their photos as a wedding present. “You deserve something beautiful to look back on,” she had said. The final book wouldn’t be done for a few weeks, but she had sent over the raw shots the night before. “What about this one?” He leaned over to show her. Their foreheads were touching, his arms wrapped around her waist as they stood in the middle of one of Vieux Port’s cobblestone side streets. Laurel’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, her other hand loosely holding her bouquet. If you didn’t know, they looked like a real couple. They looked like they were in love.

“It’s gorgeous,” Laurel murmured softly. “I knew Madeline was talented, but wow. She outdid herself.”

Pierre nodded in agreement. “She did. I know I already told you, but you really did look incredible.” Laurel’s cheeks burned; she raised her mug to her lips, hopeful the oversized ceramic would cover enough of her face that he couldn’t see the effect his words had had on her. Laurel opened her own phone, scrolling through to find the matching photo. A few minutes later, he handed her his phone and she passed hers, giving their captions one last once-over before giving up their secret. Her eyes flitted across the screen.

Yesterday, I had the incredible fortune of marrying @laurel.klerken, the best person I’ve ever had the fortune of loving. I know it might come as a shock, and that we’ve kept our relationship under wraps since realizing after years of being friends that friendship just wasn’t enough any more, but this wasn’t a decision that either of us made lightly. Laurel, you’re an amazing woman, and even though it’s only been a day, an amazing wife. Whether it’s for your patients, your friends, or me, you make everyone around you feel warm, safe, and cared for beyond measure. You have a sharp wit and an even sharper mind, and I have endless admiration for how committed you are for standing up for what’s right, even when it’s not popular and even if it’s gotten you in trouble once or twice. Marriage is a partnership and a journey, and I’ve never been so excited to start a new adventure.

Laurel sniffed, not even noticing the tears pricking her eyes until Pierre handed her a tissue. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You don’t think you’re laying it on a little thick, though?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Not at all.” One tap later, and it was posted. Three minutes later, his phone rang as they were doing the breakfast dishes. Cap ❤️ flashed across the screen. Pierre grimaced. “It’s the captain. I should probably answer this one,” he said, pressing the speaker button as he dried his hands on a spare towel.

“You’re married,” Nick Foligno said, wasting no time. “Is this a fucking joke?” Laurel more than understood his apprehension, but the words still stung.

“Yes I am,” Pierre said slowly, “and no, it’s not a joke. Laurel and I are legally married in the province of Québec.”

She could hear a labored breath from the other line, followed by an airy laugh. “What the hell, man?”

Nick was ultimately happy for them, and after being introduced to Laurel after they switched the call over to FaceTime he apologized for his reaction, but Laurel waved him off. “You’re just looking out for your boy is all. I’d do the same.”

Nick nodded. “Take care of him for us, Laurel. Your address still the same?” He looked over towards Pierre, who hummed his assent. “Janelle and I will send you something. Something useful.”

---

July 28 (wed)

“Something useful” turned out to be a gorgeous set of Wüsthof knives and a stand mixer, the latter of which Laurel was nearly jumping out of her socks with excitement to try. Baking had long since been one of her favorite hobbies and her go-to method of stress relief; while she was grateful for the arm muscles her years of having to hand mix everything had given her, she wasn’t going to miss the extra effort. So Laurel Klerken was taking full advantage of her new toy. She had gone down to the Jean-Talon market in the morning, which was quickly becoming one of her favorite weekly activities. Especially with Pierre around to help her, she was learning to shift her speaking into the Québecois dialect, and her French was good enough to order from the vendors in their language and be understood. In her book, that was a win. The peak of summer meant it was berry season in Montréal, which meant it was time for Laurel to break out her nana’s blueberry oatmeal muffin recipe. And chocolate chip walnut cookies. And a French apple tart. Okay, so maybe she went a little bit overboard, but they had their desserts for the week and it made the kitchen smell so good.

Pierre opened the door just as Laurel was pulling out the last pan of cookies, walking around the corner into the kitchen and raising his eyebrows at the view. She looked over at him. “You going to complain about your wife’s baking when you’re the primary beneficiary?” she asked, challenging him with a playful smile on his face.

Pierre held his hands up in surrender, holding the mail between two fingers. “No.” He picked one of the cookies off of the cooling rack, taking a bite. “Definitely not.”

Laurel nodded towards the mail, walking over to the sink to wash her hands. “What came in the mail?”

“Nothing much,” he said, shrugging. “Just a little letter from IRCC.”

Her eyes lit up. “Immigration finally got back? Did they send my card?”

Pierre nodded, handing her the envelope. It barely took five seconds for her to rip it open. “You, Laurel Elizabeth Klerken, are now officially a permanent resident of Canada. Congrats, babe.”

Laurel squeaked in excitement, dancing around in the kitchen , the holographic detailing on the card catching the glow of the late-afternoon light. She threw her arms around Pierre, giving him a kiss on the cheek that was just barely off to the side of his lips. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said breathlessly.

“Don’t mention it.”

She pulled back, still smiling. “No, ‘don’t mention it’ is for when you bring home dinner without being asked, or take a drunk friend home from the bar. Not for things like this,” she said, wiggling her card. “This is everything to me, P. I get to stay in the city that I love, I get to stay at the job that I love. I get to —” She looked down, eyes widening. “I can finally get a health card!”

Pierre let out a laugh. “Out of everything, you’re most excited about that?” Being a dual citizen who lived in the U.S. for the better part of the year, Pierre understood the absolute chasm of accessibility that separated the American and Canadian health insurance systems better than most, but he still looked at his wife’s choice with incredulity.

“Of course it is,” Laurel said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. She still had insurance purchased through her work, but the fact that now it was so much easier and official and came out of her taxes instead of having to try and navigate the bureaucratic system of forms and checks and private insurance companies made it so much easier. “It’s just nice to finally be a part of a system that acknowledges healthcare as the human right it is. That’s another thing about how it works in the U.S., it’s tied to employment a lot of the time so it’s not always a guarantee.”

She gave a tense smile, leaning back against the counter. “I might seem a little worked up about it, but that’s because I am. Uh,” she paused, eyes flickering up towards the chrome-plated track lighting, “my dad lost his job when I was a kid. He was a foreman at a construction company, but then the recession hit in ‘08 and he was laid off. We lost our insurance. Maggie and I were able to get on MinnesotaCare, which is the state insurance for low-income families, but our parents didn’t get approved. Not enough money to go around, I guess,” she scoffed. “Unemployment wasn’t paying enough and mom’s job isn’t full-time, so she doesn’t get benefits. Apparently they think healthcare is a benefit.” Laurel took another pause. “And then Dad had a stroke. It wasn’t serious, thank God, but the bills...Maggie was almost graduating high school and headed off to college, and money was tight even before the layoffs. We were able to come up with the money, but only because the community really came together, in a way I had never seen before. I still haven’t seen anything like it since. Bake sales, church fundraisers, garage sales.” The tiniest of smiles played on Laurel’s lips as she looked back up at her husband. “Do you know how much pasta Minnesotans can eat at a spaghetti dinner?”

“A lot?”

“A whole hell of a lot,” Laurel confirmed. “But anyways. That’s when it became personal to me, and I think it’s why healthcare and access to quality care is still something that I’m still so passionate about and invested in. It’s why I became a nurse.”

Pierre walked over to her carefully, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “It makes absolute sense, Laurel. I know that probably wasn’t easy for you, so thank you for sharing. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to let me in like that.” Laurel wasn’t a cold person by any means; she was one of the kindest and most giving people Pierre had ever met, even in the few months that they’d known each other. But she was someone that could be guarded at times — for very good reason — and it meant the world to him that she was willing to let him chip away her hardened exterior little by little to see the brilliance that lay within.

She pressed against his side, her head resting on his arm. “You’re my husband. Why wouldn’t I?”

---

Laurel was in the ensuite of her and Pierre’s room, washing her face before going to bed, when she heard her phone vibrate with a text. After that first night, Laurel had made it a habit of sharing a bed; she’d never slept better in her life than the past two and a half weeks, and even though she may have been loath to admit it, waking up to an incredibly attractive man — who was shirtless half of the time — wasn’t something she was about to complain about. “Can you get that for me?” She was expecting a text from her mom, something about confirming her and her dad’s flight times for their visit next week.

“Laurel?” Pierre called cautiously.

She turned towards him, patting her face dry. “What? Did their gate get changed or something?”

He shook his head, walking towards her and holding the phone out like it was a bomb. “It’s Maggie.”

Laurel’s mouth immediately went dry. “M-Maggie?” She took the phone, staring at the screen, open to the text.

“Do you want to talk to her? You don’t have to if you’re not feeling up to it,” Pierre said, searching her face for any semblance of apprehension. As far as he knew, she hadn’t talked to her sister in years, and he didn’t know why that was suddenly about to change.

She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I just...I have no idea what she wants. Why, after three years, is she finally deciding that she wants to be a part of my life again?” She looked down at her phone.

So, I had to hear it through the Cloquet grapevine that you got married?? What’s that about, L? Maggie wrote. Laurel pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. The gossip train in her hometown was second to none; to be honest, she was a little bit surprised it even took her older sister this long to hear about it. She was already enough of an anomaly. Less than a quarter of her city had a college degree, even fewer left the state to do it, so her going to Toronto for university was practically unfathomable — even if it was closer than Texas, where her second-choice school was. So, needless to say, she was a frequent headline in the Cloquet rumor mill. She had heard it all. That she had run off to Canada to escape a high school sweetheart turned sour, that she had cut off all ties with her family, that she had shaved half of her head and dyed her eyebrows bright pink. The last one actually had some truth to it, but it was just the eyebrows and she was a drunk 20-year-old, and at least she didn’t get a tattoo of the Maple Leafs logo on her thigh like her friend Ethan.

But this one wasn’t a rumor, and if nothing else, Maggie deserved to know that much. Not much to say. It’s true, if that’s what you were wondering.

Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to find out third-hand?

Laurel rolled her eyes, sitting down with a huff on the edge of their bed. Not to be harsh, Maggie, but it’s not like you’ve wanted to be that invested in my life since you left home. How was I supposed to know if this was even your number any more? I don’t even know what country you’re in right now.

Her response was almost immediate. I’m working at a hostel in Tokyo. But seriously? I know we haven’t been super close the past few years, but I’m still your sister, and I would have thought you’d tell me about something like this. Getting married is big. You don’t think you’re still a little young? Have you even finished school yet?

I graduated last year, I’ve been working at a hospital in Montréal for over a year, Maggie. And I know it’s a little early, but Pierre-Luc and I are happy. I love him, and he’s a good man and respects the hell out of me. I don’t really need anything else.

It was a few minutes before her next text came through, this time in all caps. YOU MARRIED A FUCKING NHLER? Laurel grew up knowing hockey, obviously; you couldn’t really live in Minnesota and not, and she wasn’t even a half-bad skater herself, but Maggie had always been the more dedicated of the sisters. She’d been the one who was always begging their dad to make the two-hour drive to St. Paul for a Wild game. Even when money was tight, Doug always found a way to scrape up enough for the tickets as her birthday present in January.

Denise from church didn’t tell you?

All she said was that it was some hot French-Canadian guy, and mom said you moved to Quebec, so I thought it could be any number. Fair enough.

Denise seriously called him hot?

Laurel could imagine her sister rolling her eyes all the way in Japan. Okay, fine, she didn’t say hot. But like...am I wrong?

For the first time in a long time, her sister made her laugh. Yeah, okay. He’s hot. I’m very aware that my husband is a class-A babe.

“You think I’m hot?” Pierre said, peeking over her shoulder and wiggling his eyebrows.

Laurel’s cheeks heated. “Yes, okay. I think you’re very attractive. Happy?”

“Very,” he responded. “I’m glad my wife thinks I’m hot. The feeling’s mutual,” he said before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth, leaving her even more flustered than before. She turned back to her conversation with Maggie. My shift is about to start, so I’ve got to go. But I’m happy for you, L. I really am. You’ve done exactly what you want with your life, and I couldn’t be more proud.

Laurel’s finger traced the words on the screen, a small smile on her face as Pierre came back into the room, throwing back the sheets. She plugged her phone into its charger, turning it face-down onto the nightstand. Things weren’t perfect between her and Maggie; far from it. One conversation over text wasn’t going to change that. But maybe, just maybe, there was still something there that was worth saving. After flicking off the lights, the last thing she remembered before falling asleep was the feeling of Pierre snaking his arm around her waist, pulling her to rest her back up against his chest. And Laurel let him.

August 17 (tues

It had been one of the worst days of Laurel’s life, and she wasn’t one for dramatics. Certainly the worst shift of her career. She knew when she chose to work in a pediatric intensive care unit, that it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows. If she wanted sunshine and rainbows, she would have gone with something less taxing. Something like dermatology, or working in a pediatrician’s office, or being a school nurse. God knows she could hand out ice packs and tampons. But no, she had to pick critical care, and critical care with children, one of the most emotionally and mentally taxing areas in the entire healthcare field. She saw the highest highs, the incredible moments when a three-year-old girl with a brain hemorrhage was able to get home, or a twelve-year-old boy finally got a kidney transplant after having been waiting for years. She saw the highest highs, but on days like today, she also saw the lowest lows.

Laurel carried her scrub top in one hand, her backpack slung over one shoulder, and tried desperately to regulate her breathing as she turned her key in the lock, pushing the door open. No matter how many times she had helped her patients breathe, she never seemed to be able to take her own advice.

Pierre stood in the kitchen, making a smoothie, but immediately turned off the blender when he saw her face. “What happened?” he asked, gently taking her bag from her and placing it on the floor.

Laurel collapsed into his arms almost instantly. “T-there was a little girl who c-came in yesterday from a car crash, and it was pretty b-bad, but she made it through the night and everyone thought she’d b-be fine,” she hiccuped, “but then right at the end of m-my shift she started coughing up b-blood and she was crashing, so I tried to do CPR until the t-team got there, but it didn’t work and we…” Laurel trailed off, sobbing, gripping the back of Pierre’s shirt like a lifeline. “We lost her, P. And the doctor on call was tied up with another patient, so I had to notify the family, and God, it was the worst thing I’ve ever had to do. She was only seven.” She looked down at her scrub top. “I have to go throw this in the washing machine before the stain sets.”

Pierre pulled back slightly, gently taking the navy shirt from her, giving a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll do it. You need to rest. Take a shower, or a bath, get into some comfortable clothes. I’ll take care of dinner.”

It was almost forty-five minutes later when Laurel finally emerged from the bathroom, clad in high school sweats and a faded Blue Jackets t-shirt. “I hope you didn’t mind that I took this one,” she said, picking at a loose thread on the bottom hem, “I hadn’t gotten to laundry yet this week.”

“It’s fine, Laur,” Pierre said, plating chicken stir-fry and rice. Cooking together had become one of their things; Pierre certainly wasn’t as hopeless as some people she had met, and he was right that he made an excellent salmon. But they couldn’t eat fish every day of the week, so Laurel broke out one of her few cookbooks and they had been making their way through the recipes together. They had finished breakfast and were making their way through poultry. Hence, chicken stir-fry. “You look better in it anyways.”

They ate in silence, her half-heartedly picking up forkfuls of rice only to put them down again. She smiled weakly at Pierre. “The food’s good, I swear. I just don’t have much of an appetite tonight.”

“I get that,” he said. “How about I put this in away in the fridge and you can get a yogurt or something? You don’t have to have a full meal, but you should eat something. We can watch something after, or you can go to bed if you’re not feeling up to it. Your call.”

“TV sounds nice, do you still have the old Parks & Rec recorded?” Laurel needed something she didn’t need to pay attention to, something that could just be background noise as she tried to sift through the emotions of her day and try to make sense of it all.

He nodded. “Wouldn’t get rid of it before asking, I know how much you love it.”

They were curled up on the couch together a few minutes later, a striped blanket thrown over Laurel’s lap despite the weather outside still lingering in the mid 70s. It wasn’t for warmth, not really; it was for comfort. Pierre’s arm was slung over her back, his thumb absentmindedly moving across her upper arm. She leaned into his touch, hardly paying attention to the show. “Do you want to talk about it?” Pierre murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t have to, but it might help.” He wasn’t an expert by any means, but Pierre obviously knew that people died in hospitals, in intensive care units even more so. Which meant that there was an almost surefire chance that she had had people die on her watch, die on her shift. Had children die on her watch. And that didn’t mean she was a bad nurse or a bad person, but just that sometimes there were illnesses and injuries so severe that even the best medical care in the province couldn’t save them. So why was this one impacting her so intensely? Had she reacted this way before, with Madeline or her coworkers, and he just hadn’t seen it before? Or was there something different about this case, about that girl that made it hit closer to home for some reason?

Laurel took a shaky breath. “I know you’re right, that it’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside. But that’s what I’m used to, you know? I love my job, I do, but you have to compartmentalize sometimes. With this one, it’s just…” She searched for the right words. “It was so immediate, so in front of me, that I didn’t have any time to reach beyond trying to save her life. I didn’t think, I just went based on instinct and training. And she still died.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Laurel,” Pierre said firmly. “You did everything you could, you did everything right.”

“I know that,” she sniffed, “but it’s so hard to believe sometimes. That if I had gotten there a few seconds sooner, or if the crash team had been a little earlier, she might have survived. And I wouldn’t have had to tell a mother and father that their daughter was dead.” Pierre felt terrible, like there was nothing he could do, because there was nothing he could do, not apart from sit and listen. “I think it was different this time because I finally saw myself in their shoes, I obviously don’t have kids, not yet, but I imagined what it was like to have to be on the receiving end of that news, and it tore me apart, P.” Her voice cracked, and his heart broke. “Being the mom to a beautiful child and then all of the sudden having them all of the sudden stripped away? No longer living? I know that life’s not fair, but fuck, I thought I thought it would be a little better than this.”

Her voice went silent, and Pierre took the opportunity to speak. “It’s not fair, and I think part of what makes you so good at what you do is the fact that you recognize that. You’re so dedicated to giving everyone that comes through those doors the best care, because you genuinely believe that they deserve it. And that’s incredible. You don’t get complacent, you’re never satisfied with just doing things adequately and just enough to get by. You give everything 110%, and that’s how I know the kind of incredible person you are.” He paused. “And I think every parent worries about their kid getting sick, or getting hurt. I know mine did, and I’d be willing to bet yours were the same way. Worrying means you care. And you care the most deeply, the most genuinely, out of anyone I’ve ever met. And I know, when the time comes, that you’ll make an amazing mother. Whoever gets to do that with you will be a lucky man.”

“You really think so?”

Pierre slipped his hand into hers. “Positive.”

September 10 (fri)

Laurel’s fingers tapped nervously on the counter as she waited for Pierre to bring the last of his bags from the bedroom. He didn’t usually schlep a ton of things back-and-forth from Montréal to Columbus every time he needed to travel, but his ticket came with two free checked bags and if there was one thing Pierre-Luc Dubois was, it was efficient. It was the middle of September, and that meant training camps. That meant leaving Québec. That meant Ohio. That meant not seeing Pierre for weeks at a time, when the longest they had been apart since July was a two-day trip to Québec City Laurel took with her parents when they visited in August. Over the past two months, they had settled into a routine, and that routine was about to be broken. Grocery shopping, him washing the dishes while she dried, falling asleep together and waking up with legs tangled in the middle of the bed. She knew that he liked his coffee with a little bit of cream and more sugar, that Georgia got fussy if she wasn’t let out in the morning but Paul was more of a night owl, that dessert wasn’t supposed to be on his meal plan every day but that she could always get him to break for a slice of peach pie. He knew that she needed two Advil on the first day of her period because one just wouldn’t cut it, that her favorite Disney princess was Jasmine because of her independence, and that she liked to light lavender candles when she was stressed.

Pierre wheeled a bag out of the doorway. “That the last one?” Laurel asked, passing Phil’s leash to him as she held Georgia’s. He nodded. She spun her keys around on her finger. “Got both of your passports?”

Pierre patted his jacket pocket. “Right here.” It was easier for him; he could skip the wait in both countries. Exit Canada with the Canadian, enter the U.S. with the American.

It was 2 and his flight wasn’t until 4:15, but Laurel didn’t trust the traffic and she didn’t trust the wait times at the airport. “Guess we should get going then.”

“Guess we should.” Laurel grabbed one bag and he got the other, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and wheeling it out the door. It only took twenty minutes to get to the airport. Laurel pulled up next to the curb, double-checking the signs to make sure she wasn’t about to get fined for stopping, and put the car into park. Pierre was the first to open his door, grabbing both the dogs; Laurel followed suit a moment later.

“You’ve got to pop the trunk, babe,” Pierre murmured. He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, right,” she said, pressing the button on her key. It popped open with a telltale click; Pierre hefted out the black bag, she got the silver one. “Do you know how many people are going to have this exact bag? It’s going to be a nightmare at baggage claim, P” Laurel tried to joke. She always coped with humor.

Pierre laughed, this time a real one. “Fair enough. Guess I’ve got a lot riding on my luggage tags,” he said, flicking one of the offending objects around the handle of the bag, the black one. Laurel handed him the other handle, their fingers brushing as he gripped the metal. He put a finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. He could see the apprehension in her eyes. There were a lot of things that Laurel Klerken did well, really well, but lying was never one of them. She was always an open book. “Hey, don’t look so down, Laur,” he said softly. “I know you’ll be missing your personal space heater and Piper will miss her siblings, but you’re coming to visit in two weeks and it’s going to be amazing. I’ll introduce you to the boys and the other wives, you’ll get to catch one of the preseason games, finally see my place in Columbus. It might be weird being alone for a while, but —” He cut himself off. “Scratch that, it will be weird for a while, for both of us, but we’ll get through it. You’re a great person, and not a terrible wife either. People have done long-distance relationships that were longer distances for more time, and they made it through just fine. You’ll be okay, Laur. We’ll be okay.”

Laurel took an unsteady breath, trying her best to put on a brave face. “Not a terrible wife, huh? Well, you’re not half a bad husband either.” As she spoke, she was thinking over his words. How normal they sounded, but how abnormal that was for them. They weren’t a normal couple, all they really were were friends who got married — right? So why was he saying those things, things that made him seem like a real husband talking to his real wife, things that were making her feel that maybe, just maybe, this marriage wasn’t as much of a hoax as the thought it was? And it was only because of that, only because she was either reading way too much into a situation that wasn’t even there or was the premier of reading people’s body language and being able to parse out their unsaid words, that she did what she did next. She threw her arms around her husband, and she kissed him.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #pierre-luc dubois #hockey #hockey smut #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl smut #nhl #nhl imagines #pierre luc dubois

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talkingsong · 5 years ago

Quote

It really do be like that sometimes.

I watched a memes video before this reading I’m sorry

They say astrology is the map of your life- everything that occurs within it can be explained by the stars. Today, July 25th, 2019, I’ve channeled messages for each zodiac sign. To read yours, simply scroll down, find your sun, moon, or rising sign, and read. Even if it isn’t July 25th when you read this, whatever message you see is the message designed especially for you, however the timing ends up working out.

ARIES

Don’t feel guilty for having the things that you have. Gratitude is a debt repaid for the gifts that you’ve received- if you didn’t deserve them, then you wouldn’t have gotten them. I feel like you guys have finally manifested what you want (or part of what you want) and that it has to do with physical items and material things, mostly. Get over your feeling that you getting what you want is unfair to others. Your ego is getting in the way. You’ve been communicating with the universe and it has been communicating with you- there is a current equal give and exchange between you and the universe. Cherish it in a self-less way. Find beauty in the connection rather than the fact that it’s YOU connecting with IT, if that makes sense.

TAURUS

Let go of your dependency on yourself. You will get much further if you allow other people into your plan and partner up to get things done. Rest when you’re alone- but understand that work is when you're with others. Achieve this balance and your bright future is already manifested.

Also, don’t oversmother your projects. Your progress is like taking care of a plant- water it once, leave it in direct sunlight for two hours twice a week. Sunlight is your attention. Water is the emotion and thought and intention that you put into your projects. Don’t drown the plant in either.

GEMINI

C’mon Geminis, you big, lumpy blobs of confusion and inner conflict. Your guides are pushing you to actually communicate with someone. Open up! Tell them what’s wrong! Even if you don’t want them to know or even if it’s hard, you need to in order to move forwards in your life. If someone asks you how you’re feeling, don’t just answer “fine.” If someone asks you what’s wrong, don’t just say “I’m tired.” Your partner or your friends or family have noticed that you aren’t as present as you usually are and you need to give them a reason, please and thank you.

Your guides are also pushing you to do something that they’re saying they’ve been telling you to do for a while now and you’re not doing it. They’re sending a gentle but firm reminder to get your ass in gear and start doing what you’re meant to. Gët gôīńg.

CANCER

This is about romance for some of you. Your guides are saying choose from the heart! Your logic marks the stepping stones for you to take your dreams into reality. So know that things are about to start moving really really fast and the things that you’ve been wanting are coming up quickly, don’t be stuck in that beginners energy. Pick the path you wanna go down, know that you can change it if you want down the line, but pick decisively and head down it! For those of you wondering: Yes, this man is the one that you’re meant to start a relationship with at this time. Have fun you two! Ahh.... use protection, I guess!

LEO

Add more humor into your life, dude. I understand that there’s a shit ton of energy going on here and you're thinking about a lot, but make room for some joking around, yeah? You’re in the process of finding what it is that you truly believe. And you’re starting to find what you want to protect and defend in your life going forward. I see you becoming an activist for something important to you, something that you’ve experienced at some point in your life that effected you strongly. It’s your time to follow a higher path and understand what that whole experience really was about. There’s a quote here that I’ll hope helps you, because I don’t really have much else to say considering this is more of a journey for the individual-

“Basically, we are all responsible for the preservation of our personal joy; but happiness is different. Joy is not circumstantial, happiness is. You can be depressed and still have joy. You can be suicidal and still have joy. We all stop thinking and we all stop talking and we all stop sharing and we all stop creating, because by doing any of these things we quickly find out just how unhappy we are. But that's okay. That's normal. Don't let the fear of unhappiness cripple your pursuit of finding what it is you believe. Since joy is found in belief, we all have to push through unhappiness to find joy. Basically.” ― Tyler Joseph

Hope this helps.

VIRGO

Ayyyyy, Virgos! Y’all are my people. I mean, I’m not a virgo, but like.... We get each other, y’know? Anyways-

I feel like you’re starting to call in more of your tribe. You’re attracting more friends and people into your life that actually love and care about you and build you up, and vice versa. I feel like you’re getting more genuine connection with your own intuition and emotion and spirituality as well. Continue on your path trusting yourself and those around you completely, and success is basically guaranteed.

LIBRA

Don’t overanalyze the options, you have a better choice. You need to confront whatever problem or issue that you’ve been avoiding, because you ignoring it is blocking you and your progress. To turn this around, make sure to stop procrastinating and just make a decision already. 77 might be an important number to you, or angel number 877.

SCORPIO

In the past you’ve been through a lot, especially with friend groups and drama, and because of it you’ve transformed into a more beautiful person. You now have the experience needed to plan your future accordingly because of what happened in the past and what you’ve learned from it. Trust yourself and stay devoted to the future you! Go ahead and get involved in any creative endevours that you’ve been thinking about taking and listen to your advice from your inspiration and your heart. You go, girl.

SAGGITARIUS

I feel like you’ve just completed some cycle or battle of sorts, and are currently in the limbo waiting period for something else to happen. I want you to know that all of the fear and the worry that you feel about the future is not something that you should be focused on. It’s distracting you from the magical opportunities coming your way and you need to redirect your attention to something more positive with the mindset of, “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Let your intuition and faith guide you along your journey to the next stage in your life. I can assure you that more opportunities and more amazing things than you realize are waiting for you on the other side. Keep you head held high, my friend.

CAPRICORN

There’s unfairness in some aspect of your life, and you’re being called to balance out what you feel isn’t right. Let go of things that aren’t serving you- moreover, let go of things where you aren’t serving anyone else, including yourself. You need to start taking new things and new changes into consideration with little regard of a comfort zone. You’ve been recently stuck in your judgements and your old ways of thinking, and it’s time that you break free. No rush, though- your guides are only asking you to gently bring your attention to the unfairness in your life currently, and to take action as you see fit.

AQUARIUS

You’re getting your universal rewards, babyyyyy. As far as internally, you’ve manifested your own happiness in the form of hope, optimism, faith, empowerment, relief, growth, healing, yada yada. Externally you’re recieving job offers and new cars and travel and basically just all that good shit that you’ve been working on manifesting, my friend. This is your reward for being so dedicated and hardworking, especially through sticking with things even when times get tough. Out of all the groups, you guys have an extremely good week, month, year ahead of you. Take care!

PISCES

Okay, so I’m going to start this off by saying that I feel for most if not all of you, this message has something to do with your identity. Specifically for some, gender identity, especially if you’re transitioning to being female. I feel like you’ve had powerful epiphanies about who you are and what you’re to do from having terrible, ten-of-swords type experiences in the past. With the growth that you’re having, you're starting to understand the truth of your situation and changing your perspective on everything that you went through in the past, and I feel like you’re finally starting to feel liberated and powerful enough to take action. There’s such a powerful energy here for you, Pisces, and everything around you is changing. Everything you touch turns to gold. You’re growing wings. I can’t communicate how powerful this growth energy is. I feel that it all sprouted from alone time- taking a night to sit and think of things that you haven’t thought about in a while and address and finally confront the things that you feel threatened by- or, by confronting hidden subconscious feelings that you didn’t even know you had. You’re embracing your femininity, your water side, your intuition and the deeper depths of your body, mind and soul. I’m just hearing, “you know where to go now.”

It’s like you’re in control now of the waves that used to drag you down, and you’re re-crowning yourself as the master of the sea, a title you rightfully deserve.

My point is, you’ve learned so many lessons from this and you’ve been undergoing so many growth-spurts- you get to choose what to do with the power you possess. Choose wisely, Pisces. You can’t make a wrong choice.

Blessings.

#psychic #psychic readings #free #free psychic reading #general #general reading #tarot #tarot reading #free tarot reading #talkingsong #zodiac #zodiac signs #zodiac sign reading #astrolog #astrology #stars #planets #July 25th #2019

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 5 years ago

Text

Decryption_Error: “Fourth of July, Part I”

Summary: As Y/N deals with the stress of transitioning into her new position, she also has to find time to ask Elliot a very important question.

Story Summary, “The Server Room, Part I”, “The Server Room, Part II” “The Long Weekend, Part I”, “The Long Weekend, Part II”, “The Aftermath”, “Undecided”, **“Decided”, “Spooked”

Word Count: 5500

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @hopplessdreamer @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley

If you want added or I’ve missed your request, let me know : )

Warning: SMUT and a lot of it so NO under 18s

The next few workdays were a blur as I transitioned to CISTech’s General Manager. I worked long hours, learning the ins and outs of what Miles did on a daily basis. Like with most jobs, the higher you climbed, the less you actually worked within your field, which was going to be a struggle because I counted on the way analyzing trends kept my mind balanced. I took note after note until Miles banned me from writing anything else down.

“This is all sensitive material, Y/N. You have to be cautious and leaving 500 post-its lying around is a surefire way not to safeguard sensitive information.”

Despite my scowl, Miles held firm, so I stopped taking notes and stuck to paying more attention as I shadowed him.

The transition wasn’t made any easier by the impending Fourth of July weekend. Since theFourth fell on a Thursday, the office was closed on Friday, too. That meant the interviews for my replacement weren’t going to take place for at least another week or two.

And weighing the heaviest on my mind was not my new job or who my replacement would be, but that in the midst of the chaos of my promotion, I was running out of time to invite Elliot to my parents’ house in Greenwich.

What made my procrastination worse was that he was being so patient as I was barely able to see him for more than a minute or two when I passed through the cybersecurity office. Sticking with routine, if I hadn’t texted him by 7:00 pm, he’d text me to ask how I was, to ask if I needed anything, or to ask if I just wanted to talk for a bit. In short, he was being the perfect boyfriend, the very thing he thought he couldn’t possibly be.

The beginnings of relationships are always so fragile, but because Elliot and I were friends first, and because of the trust we had built after I helped him, I knew he and I would make it through this hectic transition.

However, I was not so sure if we would make it through me asking him to meet my family. I knew it was soon, but I was also sure of my feelings for Elliot—I had meant it when I decided I was going to be a constant in his life. He deserved to have someone who cared about him, and he deserved to move forward, to not be haunted by his past or by what he perceived to be his “abnormalities.”

Since it was the Monday before the Fourth, carving out a quiet moment with Elliot became a non-negotiable. I cleared my lunch hour and told my new secretary I was going to be out of the building.

When I appeared at Elliot’s desk, I almost scared him out of his skin. His fingers stumbled over the keys of his computer and he yanked out his earbuds. I had learned long ago that Elliot didn’t actually listen to music at work—he just put in his earbuds so no one would talk to him.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” I said, a smile playing with the corner of my mouth at his wide, surprised expression. “Do you have time for a quick lunch?”

More than a few eyes in the office were watching us with a mild curiosity. Word got out pretty fast about our meeting with HR, but I figured most people weren’t willing to believe Elliot and I were an actual couple. At least until they saw it for themselves.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” Elliot said, closing out his windows and turning off his monitor.

As I watched his fingers move, I couldn’t help but to think back to what his hands felt like on my skin. And when I raked my eyes over his arms and up to his face, I couldn’t help but remember what his stubbled jaw had felt like under my fingertips as I pulled him in for that goodbye kiss—

“Is everything okay?” Elliot asked, his eyes searching my face, trying to figure out what I was thinking.

“Yeah, of course,” I said with an awkward smile as I looked down and adjusted my bag.

When Elliot stood up and slid his phone into the front pocket of his trousers, my eyes followed the movement, and I shook my head and turned around before an actual blush could appear on my face.

My body missed him.

I missed him.

We rode down the elevator in silence, standing just close enough that I could feel the fabric of his muted blue dress shirt glancing over the skin of my arm. Never had I wanted to hit the stop button on the elevator and just kiss someone senseless more than I did in that moment.

Elliot followed me out of the elevator and across the lobby. Again, neither of us spoke as we navigated the busy streets of Wall Street at lunch time, the silence between us just as loud as the bustle of taxis and cars.

“Is this good?” I asked, stopping outside of a mid-size Chinese restaurant we had ordered take-out from a few times.

“Sure.”

After we were seated and the waitress took our drink orders, I started talking in a stream-of-conscious ramble.

“I know this isn’t the ideal place or time or whatever to talk to you about this, but I’m running out of time considering I wasn’t expecting to get a promotion of all fucking things on top of a new relationship and it’s the Monday before the Fourth and I know this is last minute, especially for you, but it really can’t wait any longer.”

Elliot looked down as he muttered, “Okay,” before I started rambling again.

“My parents are having a get together over the Fourth of July, and they would really love it if you’d come. They’re eager to meet you and I’m eager for you to meet them. And by gathering I mean just my family—my mom, dad, sisters, and brother and their significant others. Oh, and my sister’s kids, of course, although I’m not really a very good aunt because I see them like three times a year.”

Elliot just stared at me, so I continued.

“I know it’s . . . a lot, but I wanted to tell you now, well, I wanted to tell you last week but time got away from me and I know you like to think about stuff, but I’m trying to give you some time to think about this because it is really important to me—don’t answer me now. Just think about it. Or ask any questions you have as you think about them. So, yeah. Think about it?”

“Are you ready to order?” the waitress asked, startling both of us from my one-sided conversation.

We ordered, me falling back on my staple of chow mein, and Elliot ordering his go-to, sesame chicken.

As soon as the waitress left, Elliot took a deep breath.

“I thought you were breaking up with me.”

I snorted, an absolutely unsophisticated honking of a laugh, which caused Elliot to half-smile.

“Well, in that case, is my actual reason for asking you to lunch better or worse?”

“Do I have to answer that right now?”

I smiled, relieved that Elliot hadn’t bolted, but saddened he still thought our relationship was so tenuous—the exact opposite of what I thought it was.

Elliot’s hands moved to circle around his glass.

“I miss you,” he said with a low voice, barely even a murmur, as his eyes watched the condensation on the glass.

I slowly reached across the table to lightly touch his finger. He moved it away from the glass and I slid my finger along his, my eyes slipping shut at the contact.

“Tonight. Stay over?”

I opened my eyes to find Elliot looking at me as I asked him to stay, and he gave me that small smile I loved so much.

“Okay.”

* * * * *

In a mimic of our first night together, the instant Elliot shut my apartment door behind him, I was on him, pressing him against the door, molding my body to his. Lunch had passed in fragments of idle conversation because we both knew the other was thinking about this.

When I pulled back from my kiss hello, he was right there, so present, in front of me with his grey eyes looking at me like I held some sort of secret he had been searching the world over for.

“Can we go slow tonight?” Elliot asked, his eyes holding mine as his hands rested lightly on my waist.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” I said gently.

“I want to be good for you,” Elliot clarified.

“Oh—” I said, a little surprised at his directness. “I want to be good for you, too. You’re not the only one who thinks about those things.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Elliot’s muscles relaxed and he tightened his grip on my waist.

“Come on,” I said, my breath ghosting across his lips.

“Wait,” Elliot said, his eyes slipping shut as he moved forward and kissed me.

His lips stayed pressed against mine for a long moment before they began to move. Elliot’s tongue softly swiped between my lips and I opened instantly, welcoming him to deepen the kiss and set the pace he wanted.

The kiss was slow as Elliot explored my mouth, his tongue moving so languidly that my body reacted, a gentle warmth of arousal building slowly within me.

He closed the kiss as softly as it began, and I opened my eyes to watch as he lazily opened his. I smiled softly and took his hand to lead him down the hallway to my room.

When I released him to pull down my comforter and to turn on some music, Elliot stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, shuffling before uncrossing, then crossing his arms again.

“Relax. We’ve already done this,” I said with a chuckle as I scrolled through my playlists.

“Not like this. This is—” Elliot trailed off as he uncrossed his arms again.

I hit play and music began to emit from my speaker, not loud enough to be distracting, but loud enough to disrupt any uncomfortable silence.

“More intimate?” I questioned, fishing for what was really bothering him.

“What if we don’t work?”

I blinked, taken aback.

“We already worked. I mean, I worked just fine and I think you did, too?”

“Not physically. In all the other ways? What if we don’t work?”

I took a deep breath, and said, “This is about this weekend.”

Elliot sort of deflated as he walked to my bed and sat down, his feet just touching the floor because of my high bedframe.

“I’ve never met someone’s parents before.”

“It’s not as intimidating as you’re imagining it to be. Everyone will be there, so it won’t feel like the focus is on you. I want them all to know you, to see how smart you are. To see how kind you are. To see the way you look at me.”

Elliot looked up and gave me just the sort of look I knew my mother would notice.

“Like that,” I chuckled. “Full of affection.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

I snorted.

“God no. It’s just that sometimes, some part of you wears your heart on your sleeve. I like those moments so much. Those moments when you’re really here, really present. Whatever bothers you—depression, or your anxieties—it’s all far away.”

“Because you make me forget,” Elliot said to the floor.

“Forget what?” I asked slowly, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

Elliot ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands for a second.

“Forget what it’s like to be lonely.”

My heart fluttered at the tenderness of his sad words.

“You don’t ever have to feel like that again. I’m not going anywhere. Actually, we technically just signed a contract, remember?” I said, trying to get a little laugh out of him.

Elliot smiled softly, “If only it were that easy to make sure you stayed.”

“Boy. We’ve got loads of emotional baggage to unpack, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Elliot said, his voice barely concealing bitterness.

“All the more reason to meet my family. You can see that no family is ‘normal,’ especially not mine.”

Elliot looked up again, his voice a perfect monotone as he asked, “Are you really sure you want this—you want me so visibly in your life?”

“Elliot. We slept together once, I asked you to be my boyfriend, and then I went straight to HR to disclose. If that wasn’t a telling set of actions, I really don’t know how else to prove to you I’m really fucking sure I want to be with you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Show me.”

His hands gripped the edge of the mattress as he lifted his head to squarely look at me. Elliot was characteristically quiet before finally replying, “Okay—I’ll meet them. I’ll spend the weekend with your family.”

With a sharp intake of breath, I bit my lip in an attempt to hide my grin. This was a big step, and I hadn’t been sure Elliot would take it.

I crossed the room and nudged my way between his legs. He reached up and wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me in so he could hug me, his head pressing into my chest.

I ran my hand through his hair, gently scratching along his scalp and mussing his styled-straight strands. Once Elliot released me from his grip, I took a step back so I could kneel in front of him.

He was watching me with wide eyes as I began to untie his black dress shoe. I pulled it off, then untied the other one. I slowly reached my hands under and up his dark grey trousers, feeling for the edges of his black socks. When I found them, I curled my fingers in and pulled both of them off. His toes flexed as he reached to steady himself on the floor. I ran my fingers over the tops of his feet to see if he was ticklish, but he didn’t react. I smiled because I wasn’t at all surprised that Elliot Alderson wasn’t ticklish.

I ran my hands up the back of his calves and around his knees to slide across the tops of his thighs. I braced myself and stood, my hands sliding to his hips as I leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Is this okay?” I whispered against his lips.

“Yes,” Elliot breathed.

I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants before moving my hands to his dress shirt. Starting from the bottom, I worked my way up, opening each button. Before I slid his shirt off, I stopped to kiss along his jaw, working my way to behind his ear. As I sucked, just a little, Elliot’s hand shot out to grip at my hip.

I pulled back and slid his shirt off, tugging before I realized I hadn’t unbuttoned his cuffs. I made quick work of those buttons, pulled off the dress shirt, and dropped it to the floor.

As I reached for the hem of his black t-shirt, I looked at him, his cheeks tinged with color and his lips parted. Elliot was always so beautiful in moments like this with his edges softened and his eagerness to be loved becoming almost tangible.

He straightened and lifted his arms as I pulled the worn fabric away from his body.

I delighted in the fact that Elliot was now mine to look at for as long as I pleased. We’d come a long way from my stolen glances in the bathroom as I tended his cuts and bruises.

“Uh?” Elliot mumbled quizzically, his hands back to grasping at the edge of the bed.

“I’m allowed to look at you as much as I want,” I said, my eyes half-lidded and with a smirk on my lips.

Elliot blinked up at me, and I smiled before I took pity on him and gave him something to do.

“Scoot back. Relax.”

He complied, and I reached to pull off his trousers, kicking them to the side so I could stand between his now dangling legs. He was perched on his elbows, watching me as I slid my nails up and down his bare thighs, loving the feeling of the thick, curly hair on his legs.

I toyed with the edges of his black boxer-briefs, sliding my fingers underneath the edges, creeping up until the fabric began to bunch.

Elliot’s cock was hard, outlined perfectly beneath his underwear, and I licked my lips before I looked up at him.

“Talk to me this time. Tell me what you like. What you want.”

And I flicked my eyes back to his underwear as I removed my hands from under them and reached to pull the waistband down. Elliot quickly lifted his hips, and I once again let my eyes rake over his body, now totally bared to me.

I didn’t look for long because his hips and his stomach were just too tempting, damn near begging to be tasted.

I bent over him, resting comfortably with my thighs pressing into the edge of the bed, and after sweeping my hair to one side, I licked a long stripe over the indentation of Elliot’s hip bone. I repeated my ministration on the other side of his body, then slowly began to kiss my way across his lower abdomen.

When I reached the dark strip of hair that extended down his stomach, I slowly licked my way up the trail, moving further and further from his cock, which was gorgeously swollen and nearly ready to leak.

Elliot’s fingers scrambled against my waist as he tugged on my shirt.

“Tell me what you want,” I said as I pressed soft kisses around his chest.

“Take off your shirt,” Elliot demanded.

A small grunt of pleasure escaped me at the way his voice rumbled through his chest, his command clear, almost confident.

I straightened and quickly pulled off my blouse. My fingers dipped under my bra straps and I stopped, looking at Elliot with a raised brow.

He nodded his head, and I slid off the straps then reached back to unclasp my bra. I ran my hands over my breasts, more out of the delight of finally being free from my bra than in an attempt to look sexy.

But Elliot definitely found my action alluring because he reached down to wrap a hand over his cock, squeezing just enough so that a drop of precum slid out and onto his thumb.

I could not have held back my moan at seeing him touch himself even if my life had depended on it.

“I—” Elliot’s voice faltered and he bit his lip.

“Tell me. Tell me what you need,” I said quietly as I leaned forward again, knowing what he wanted but needing to hear him say it.

“Your mouth. Please. I want your mouth,” he said as he gave himself one more squeeze before removing his hand and laying back on the bed.

I reached out to grip his hips on either side as I flattened my tongue and licked him from base to tip. Elliot’s body gave a little shudder, and I slid my tongue through his slit, tasting him for the first time. I hummed with pleasure and placed small kisses along his cock as I whispered, “I need to hear you, El. Don’t hold it in.”

And then I took him in my mouth, engulfing his hardness and taking him as deep as I was able.

Elliot groaned out a long, “Fuuuck.”

I removed one hand from his hip and wrapped it around the base of his cock. I worked him with my mouth, slowly, not wanting anything to end too soon and honestly, just enjoying the taste of him. I felt his fingers brush at my hair before lightly settling on my head.

I could feel Elliot’s body building to his release, and I reached down to lightly run my fingers over the smooth, tight skin of his testicles.

He groaned again before he breathed out, “Stop—stop.”

I let him go and pulled back, but Elliot was already moving, pulling me onto the bed with him.

“I want you,” he said, pushing me back and moving between my legs, reaching down to undo the clasp on my trousers, fumbling a bit before it popped open.

I helped him slide me out of my pants and my underwear, and I pointed to my nightstand’s drawer. He reached over and pulled out a condom, opening it and rolling it on. I watched and let my legs fall open in gesture of welcome.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes scanning my face.

“God yes,” I said, pulling him on top of me.

Elliot’s eyes slid closed and he kissed me as he positioned himself and entered me. We both gasped into the kiss and Elliot’s hands found my arms, sliding down to my wrists so he could pull them above my head.

He fucked me like that, slowly and sensually, his body rubbing against mine and creating the most delicious friction as I chased my release.

I was so excited by him, and Elliot was surrounding me, overwhelming me—the taste of him in my mouth, the weight of his body on mine, his eyes watching my face until they slid shut with pleasure, his fingers pressing into my wrists, and his cock driving into me.

It didn’t take long before I was flushed and panting, my head thrown back and my mouth open as I ground into him, my aching clit finally giving way to my hard orgasm that rushed through my body, electrifying my skin and pulling out of my mouth a series of praises to god and to Elliot and maybe even to his cock.

And somewhere inbetween my praises and my moans, Elliot let go, his hips slamming into me before slowing as his orgasm sweept over him, his groans and his mumble of my name against my neck so much more subdued than my earlier outburst, but the deep rumble of his voice with a slight crack as he praised me caused another impossible shiver of pleasure to spiral through me.

Too soon, Elliot untangled himself and sat up to pull the condom off. He tossed it in the trash on the other side of the nightstand and flopped back onto the bed, his chest rising and falling, a slight sheen of sweat glistening between his muscles.

“I was supposed to learn what you liked.”

“I liked that,” I said, smiling and reaching over to trace a finger down the dark trail of hair on his abdomen.

“I’m serious,” Elliot said as he rolled over to face me. “I want to be good for you.”

“Alright—is it my turn now?”

Elliot made a strangled noise of surprise as he struggled to answer, and I laughed out loud.

“I’m teasing,” I said, still laughing. “We aren’t 17.”

And, as if in agreeance with my statement, a yawn escaped, which made Elliot chuckle and hide his face in his pillow. He looked over again, sheepishly.

“I’m not the one yawning,” he said, his voice dripping with snark.

I giggled and opened my mouth in mock-offense.

“No need for the snark, Mr. Alderson.”

“Mmm,” Elliot mumbled as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. I rolled over and settled in next to him, enjoying the feeling of him holding me. I wondered if he could fall asleep like that, but I didn’t find out that night because as soon as my eyes shut, I was dead to the world.

And when I woke up, it was to Elliot pressing light kisses along my bicep, over my shoulder, and against the base of my neck.

“I … like . . . this,” I mumbled, sleep still clinging to my voice.

“Yeah?” he asked as he continued to press featherlight kisses over my skin.

I rolled onto my back to give him better access and Elliot took full advantage, sliding on top of me and settling between my thighs.

He continued to kiss all along my jaw and down my neck, lightly sucking and licking as he made his way to my breasts. He teased my nipples and my body’s response to him was almost shamefully open; my nipples hardened, and my skin prickled with goosebumps. I wanted to rub my thighs together to seek out some contact, but Elliot was in the way, his strong hand holding my hip in place.

“Tell me what you want,” Elliot growled out against my stomach.

His words were an exact echo of mine from last night, and my eyes slipped shut as I reached above my head and squirmed against him.

“Your fingers—touch me, please.”

The weight of Elliot lifted, and I knew he was looking at me, his eyes raking over my wet heat, but I kept my eyes shut tight, wanting to feel everything he was willing to give.

Soon, I felt a tentative finger sliding over my mound and between my lips. My legs fell further apart and I grasped onto the slats of the headboard. Elliot was taking his time, watching my reactions and memorizing them.

He gently slid his finger from my clit to my folds, circling my inner lips before sliding in one long digit, and twisting to seek out the bundle of nerves hidden inside of me.

I hummed with pleasure and unlike Elliot, there was no hesitancy in my request.

“I want your mouth.”

I heard him suck in a shaky breath as the bed moved, and I shivered as Elliot’s hands pushed my thighs even further apart. When his tongue slid between my folds, the moan that escaped my lips was low and filthy.

I knew I was so wet and a part of me felt bad he was going to be covered in the evidence of my arousal, but when I opened my eyes and saw Elliot’s head between my thighs, I damn near came on the spot.

His hair was a mess. His thick fingers were digging into the flesh of my thighs, holding them open, one of them still glistening from being inside of me. And his eyes, dark in the grey light of the morning, were open, locked on mine as he closed his lips over my clit and sucked.

My thighs tried to snap shut but those hands held me open. Elliot relieved some of the pressure and began gently licking at my clit, but it was too late.

I came, hard and fast, my hands gripping the wood of the headboard so tight I was afraid it would snap.

I growled in frustration and wiggled away from Elliot.

“Fuck me,” I said turning over and positioning myself on my hands and knees.

“Y/N,” Elliot moaned, reaching for the nightstand again and rolling on another condom.

There was no pause this time because there was no need to ask if I was ready. There was only the feeling of Elliot sliding his cock into my aching, tight center.

My arms trembled as we fucked, Elliot setting the brutal pace I requested with every “harder” and “faster” muttered.

His hands that were gripping my hips let go to squeeze the flesh of my ass; his groans punctured the air between my moans and my chorus of yesses.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Elliot panted. “I’m going to come.”

“Not yet, not yet,” I begged.

Elliot made a noncommittal noise and pulled at my hips, forcing my arms to buckle so he could push me down into the mattress. He ground against me, and I felt his head rest between my shoulder blades before he pushed up a little on my hip, and that was it—

My second orgasm washed over me in an echo of the one from last night. It was pulsating and slow, warming me and making my heart pound against my chest.

I could feel Elliot’s own heart hammering, and once again, I missed his actual orgasm because I was busy riding my own out.

“So…was that good?” Elliot asked, his voice nothing more than a rasp.

“Shut the fuck up,” I said, breathless and grinning as I wiggled out from under him. “I need a cold shower.”

And maybe even better than all my orgasms combined was the sound of Elliot’s laughter as I made my way to the bathroom.

* * * * *

“Elliot,” I said, rummaging through the black duffle bag on his mattress. “It’s going to be 98 degrees tomorrow. You don’t own a pair of shorts?”

“I don’t like the way they feel.”

“Alright—how about swim trunks?”

“I—don’t swim.”

“Don’t? or Can’t?”

Elliot thought it over for a moment.

“Don’t.”

“Well, that’s a big part of what we do. Swim, kayak, hang out on the beach. You’re going to have to compromise a little.”

“I could just stay here.”

“Don’t you sass me—you told me you’d go.”

“I’m not sassing.”

“Yes, you are,” I said as I tossed another black t-shirt back in his bag and flung myself onto my back, exasperated.

“You’ve gotta work with me a little…just a little.”

“But this is a lot. I don’t think you realize how much this is,” Elliot mumbled, his hands on his hips as he looked around his apartment.

I sat up on my elbows and looked at him. The purple under his eyes was back and it was obvious he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Come here,” I said patting the mattress and sliding into a sitting position, pushing a pillow between my back and the wall.

Elliot frowned, but complied. He sat down on the edge of the bed, too far out of my reach to touch him. It was difficult to be with someone who could be so loving, so open, and then not want you to touch them, but I kept reminding myself that this was new for him and it was new for me. Not every day would be like the night we spent together on Monday.

“I know you’re feeling overwhelmed. Talk to me about it.”

After a minute or so, Elliot began to talk, a quiet murmur in his trademark monotone.

“I have no idea what it’s like to be with a normal family. Mine wasn’t. At least it wasn’t normal with any consistency. All I have, when I do remember, are normal fragments mixed in with all the fucked up shit. I think—I think it was more normal before he died. I remember going to the movies. I used to talk to him all the time, especially when he’d pick me up from school and take me to work with him. After…after he was gone, Darlene was the only sort of normal I had and,” Elliot broke off with a huff of a laugh. “And Darlene isn’t exactly what anyone would describe as normal.”

“Elliot—is that all you see when you look at me? Normal?”

“No,” he said glancing at me. “It’s just hard to look around that sometimes.”

“Maybe this weekend will show you that you’re more normal than you think—we talked about this. Normal is subjective.”

“It is, but I can promise you my childhood is not anyone’s version of normal. I’m not anyone’s version of normal.”

“But you’re my version of perfect,” I said, smiling widely at Elliot, and enjoying the look of shock on his face.

“Don’t—”

“I love being with you, El. Now who can’t take a compliment?”

“I’m not perfect,” Elliot said slowly, as if I were a child.

“Perfect is subjective—”

“No. The literal definition is “free from flaws, without defects.”

“Sure—for the verb. The adjective, however, states that perfect is having all the required desirable elements, in other words, something being as good as it is possible to be. Sounds subjective to me…and sounds like I’m free to say that you, Elliot Alderson, are perfect for me.”

Elliot’s sigh let me know he wasn’t going to protest, and I said, “Come here.”

He tried to hide his small smile but failed as he scooted closer and sat next to me. I turned my body toward him and reached up to slide my hand along his jaw to cup his face. I turned his head toward me and his eyes, so alert in this moment but still dark in the dim lighting of the apartment, focused on me.

We stayed like that for a long moment until I broke our eye contact as I leaned in, my eyes sliding shut when my lips found his. This kiss was slow and sweet, lips on lips, until I felt Elliot’s tongue ghost along my lower lip.

When I pulled back, I rested my forehead against Elliot’s.

“I’m buying you some swim trunks,” I said, causing Elliot to chuckle, his breath a cool huff across my wet lips.

“Fine.”

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #elliot x reader #female reader #elliot alderson fanfic #mr. robot #mr robot fanfiction #rami malek #rami malek character

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the-bounce-back · 5 years ago

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THE CONFIDENCE CHRONICLES IV - CONFIDENCE IN YOUR CRAFT

This is post 4/5 of my “Confidence Chronicles” series, in which I discuss the mindsets, actions and thought processes I’ve applied to build/rebuild my confidence in different aspects of my life. The goal of these 5 posts is for you readers to be able to apply relevant points to your own insecurities in order to combat them, and hopefully aid in building your own confidence over time.

_____________

Oooh, check me out with the post consistency. That’s how you know it’s a new year and decade, baby!

I’d like to start off by saying that I have been excited to write this post in particular for quite a long while now - literally since about July last year. However, my life was a bit of a mess at the time, and I didn’t want to put the previous post on hold, so it had to wait until now.

Maybe this was for the best, though - this post is going to be about confidence in your craft and the projects you put out into the world. Although I was literally planning on writing this post around 7 months ago, I can honestly say that my confidence levels in my own projects have never been higher than right now, so writing about it now makes more sense. See, procrastination helps!

Anyways. To kick this post off, I want to take some time to acknowledge my many talents. Besides my *impeccable* blogging skills, not many people know that I’ve dabbled in acting and drumming in the past, and I am currently also writing a book (more about that in a future post) and getting back into interior design, learning new languages and drawing. These are my current favourite pastimes, and what I say to people whenever I’m asked what my “hobbies” are.

The reason why I’m sharing this is because I want people to understand that unless you are vocal about your passions, how the hell are other people meant to be able to support and appreciate your work? It goes without saying that bigging yourself up and showing off your talents can feel extremely vain if you are a naturally reserved/humble person - but my hope is that this post will teach you how to be more confident in your work.

I am very excited to share this post because I am blessed to have friends of what feels like millions of different talents. Actors, musicians, podcasters, poets, youtubers, models, MUA’s, chefs, hair stylists… the list goes on, and it makes me so proud to see that they are all in their respective creative bags right now - so this post is somewhat dedicated to them as well if they ever have feelings of insecurity in their talents.

I will be talking about what I have found to be the most important factors of being confident in your creativity, not letting criticism (constructive or otherwise) make you want to give up, and getting over the initial fear of putting something you’ve created out into the world, because let’s face it; sharing something you’ve created can be incredibly vulnerable. You are essentially sharing a private aspect of yourself for the world to critically analyse, and it’s normal to find this daunting - however, it’s all about how you handle it.

Based on my own experiences and anonymous examples from my friends, I will try my best to explain how best to develop a deep sense of confidence and pride in your creative endeavours.

1. Ensure that you are doing your craft out of passion.

Regardless of if you are creating content solely for your own enjoyment or to capitalise on it, I definitely think that it is imperative that what you are doing fills you with joy and that you are excited to do the activity. This may sound like a no-brainer, but I feel like I see a lot of people nowadays forcing themselves to pursue certain endeavours due to influences from social media, or are forcing themselves to capitalise off a hobby they used to love, but now hate because of the added pressure of having to create content/products for the target audience.

This is partly why I am apprehensive about ways of monetising this blog - or any of my other creative projects, for that matter. I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t crossed my mind, but my biggest fear is starting to resent an activity I once loved because of external pressure such as deadlines, not having full creative control and having to “tread carefully” with the messages I put out, if that makes sense.

Pursuing a hobby for the sole purpose of others is never going to make you feel that what you’re creating is good. Constantly trying to please the masses as opposed to just doing whatever makes you feel happy is always going to make you feel anxious and scared of the reception, I think. Instead, I’d suggest that you evaluate what is more important to you: approval or enjoyment. If it’s the former, then by all means… keep forcing yourself to pursue hobbies that may or may not give you recognition. Who knows - maybe you’ll blow up and get the sponsorships, money and fans that you want, and I don’t even mean this in a petty or sarcastic way. If that’s what you set out to do, then I’d be very happy for you.

However, I reiterate: pursuing a hobby for anyone other than yourself runs a great risk of becoming a burden in the long run, as well as a risk of losing your self confidence when you don’t get the attention or accolades that you believe that you deserve.

I think I have an issue with the above because it relates back to past posts in which I’ve discussed humans’ desperation to be approved and acknowledged by their peers. It alludes to a deeply rooted insecurity in yourself, your abilities and your belief in said abilities - I only say this because this literally used to be me before deciding to sack everyone off and do whatever the f*ck I wanted.

Personally, my dream scenario would be for people to find a hobby that they are truly passionate about and that they can capitalise off in a way that doesn’t restrict their creative process and that is on their own terms. Because, let’s be honest - receiving money and accolades doing something that you truly love is a major confidence boost… regardless of if the money and recognition motivates you or not. But the bottom line is that your confidence in your creativity should not be rooted in anything else but your own joy.

2. Appoint a/some constructive critic(s).

It goes without saying that true confidence comes from ~*wItHiN*~, but there is nothing wrong with looking to friends and/or family for opinions and support. In fact, I’d even go as far as saying that having someone who understands your vision and wants you to achieve your goals is a must.

This someone is a crucial part of the creative process, because they will ideally motivate (aka bully...exactly like the gif above) you into meeting the deadlines you set for yourself, give you honest feedback and give you a kick up the arse on the days where you don’t really feel like doing anything. They will remind you of the reason why you started your project when you feel like giving up - and having someone like this in your corner that unconditionally believes in you is a massive ego boost.

Something that’s even better than having one person in your corner is having multiple people in your corner. And something that’s even better than having multiple people in your corner, is having multiple people in your corner that are also creative and have their own projects going on. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a group of people with the exact same hobby as you (although this definitely helps too!), but surrounding yourself with people that are also making things happen for themselves gives you a beautiful sense of community. I can only speak for myself, but forming friendships with other creatives has definitely helped me come out of my shell. I still remember when I first “pitched” my blog idea to my friends - thinking that I’d get a lukewarm response (because let’s face it… a lot of people unfortunately don’t enjoy reading anymore) - but the positive feedback and support I got is what gave me the confidence to actually start. And when I was on my hiatus, I’d be harassed for updates on when my next post was coming, and brutally dragged when I didn’t post on the days I had promised. The same goes for their projects as well - it was only recently that we had to bully someone for not releasing their podcast when they said they would.

Another aspect of having a group of critics that believe in you is the motivation you get from seeing them putting their plans into action. Honestly. Seeing my friends’ work ethics and how hard they grind makes me want to be better - not only to keep up, but for myself in general.

The bottom line is that although you don’t need people in your corner to get started, it is definitely a major asset to have. You should be confident that your work is great by your own accord, but getting it confirmed - or receiving feedback for improvements - is just another key to improving your confidence.

3. Do not be afraid of vulnerability (if your craft requires you to do so).

Believe me… I get it. Putting out something you’ve created for the entire planet to see can be incredibly daunting, especially if a lot of emotion has gone into it. It feels like you’re putting a very dainty and vulnerable part of you out on a perilous battlefield, out in the open where nowhere to take cover. This is where a lot of us (myself included) tend to overthink sharing our work, or in some cases chose not to share it at all. If only you guys knew how many draft posts have ended up in the bin because I was worried about being judged (they’re being revived though, fear not!)... it’s mad how much fear and anxiety can hold you back from being great.

This is where it’s important to understand the power of being able to be vulnerable, honest and open through your selected medium. As cringe as it sounds, opening your heart to the world and letting people see your insecurities, unresolved issues and things you’d much rather hide leads to the situations power over you significantly diminishing. And the more you do it, the closer you get to the situation no longer being able to hurt you anymore - because once it’s out in the open, nothing or no one can actually tell you sh*t. Once you get to the point of no longer caring who knows what your internal struggles are, I promise that you feel insanely confident and empowered, because you are no longer living in fear.

Another beautiful aspect of vulnerability in relation to self-confidence is that ever so often, you get to hear that your work has genuinely helped, inspired or motivated someone. I know I said that validation and approval from others isn’t the best reason for pursuing a hobby, but this is different in the sense that you’re doing your thing regardless of if you get positive feedback for it - the recognition is truly just a bonus, but a contributor to increased confidence all the same.

Hopefully, utilising these three methods will make you feel a great deal more confident about your creative projects/side hustles for the following reasons:

You’re doing this project primarily because it brings you joy.

The way I see it, taking time out of your day to do something that makes you genuinely happy is an act of self-care and incredibly empowering, in the sense that we are choosing to not be distracted and led astray by the infinite amount of garbage media that is constantly in our faces due to social media. Being able to make time on a project - whatever it may be - that brings you happiness and engages your right brain is a massive blessing in our age group, as we take on more and more responsibilities that eat up our time and drain us.

A cute metaphor for this could be that your day to day routine is a desert. Going to work/uni, doing work/uni related projects, doing chores around the house and all your other responsibilities is walking around for hours in the sun, making us drained, famished and parched. Our hobbies should be like a much-welcomed oasis, providing us with water, food, shade and somewhere to recharge (joy, inspiration, motivation and a well-deserved break for the brain).

Okay, that was a bit cringe. But you get the point - allowing ourselves to have something in this hard life to enjoy is a confidence boost in itself.

After paying attention to the feedback you get, you’ll become even more skilled at your craft over time.

It’s no conundrum that experience equals expertise, and that constantly improving your creative process in accordance with feedback from someone you know understands your vision will make you more sure of yourself in the long run.

Think about it: if you’re already doing something you genuinely love, and you have a trusted person/trusted people in your life to turn to for genuine opinions, how can you not win?

By “winning”, I mean your work getting progressively better over time, combined with a feeling of security and support from your peers. I mean becoming more emotionally, mentally, spiritually and maybe even financially (if you’re so inclined) stable through doing something you genuinely love. The prize is peace of mind, feeling supported, and full creative control of your work - and I honestly can’t think of anything more satisfying.

You’re taking control of your doubts and insecurities and flipping them into assets.

For me, this is a no brainer. What could possibly be more confidence-boosting than overcoming insecurities and being able to use them to your advantage in your creative endeavours? It’s literally what my entire blog is based upon, and writing about things that have caused me a great deal of pain in the past has ended up being a very therapeutic and cathartic experience, as well as extremely empowering - in the sense that I don’t allow certain situations have control over me anymore. I can now focus on continuing to heal, and help others who may come across my work in the meantime.

Having a personal project that challenges you to face and overcome your insecurities is something that I think everyone should try to have. It might get hard at times and extremely tempting to quit, but once your work is ready for the world to see I promise you that you’ll get a boost in confidence.

By keeping these three points in mind, I can pretty much guarantee that you’ll feel infinitely more confident in your creative projects. Knowing that you’re putting your entire heart into a project that you are sharing with the whole world, knowing that you have supporters that you can trust with honest opinions and feedback and knowing that you’ve stayed true to yourself regardless of if the norm enjoys is an ideal state of mind to be in.

On a final note, I want to reiterate that there is no “wrong” or “right” way to have a hobby and gain confidence from it. This post is just general guidelines that really helped me come out of my shell creatively, and I’d like to think it’d work for others too. However, you know best how comfortable you are with exposing your work and what your existing confidence levels are like, so please proceed accordingly (and don’t blame me if things go tits up because you decided not to take the time to listen to yourself!).

Love,

Liv

#selfhelp #selflove #goals #empowerment

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thatonegirlwhodoesthings · 5 years ago

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End Of Year Review

Last time I was here I was way more of a mess yet I had way too much hope and, thankfully, I was right in having hope. Now, here I am at the end of the year in December and so much has changed but that comes with graduating and transitioning into college. Here is my end of year review in which I express what I learned about the world and about others that has impacted what I know and thought I knew about myself.

I spent half of my July unsure if I was even going to have the opportunity to actually go to college. I worked so hard and was so scared but when July 15th came and I paid my first bill to my school I knew that this was my opportunity. I also knew I needed to work really hard to be able to stay so, on top of this new pride in knowing I was actually, officially going to be going to college, I needed to take on more responsibility and got a second job. July is when I really started working my first job and it was new and exciting. Getting called in on my days off, having something to do and with this came a new sense of pride that I was working towards what I wanted. I became, to some extent, less reliant on my mother. Having two jobs allowed me to prove to myself, and other (but mostly me) that when I want something, I will work for it.

August was eventful. As it was getting closer to move in day, closer to me finally achieving a goal that has been MONTHS in the making, life around me seemed to fall apart a little bit. I was so focused on my goals and did not have the time or energy to dwell on the domestic abuse my mother was facing, forcing us, just months before one big transition in my life, to make another one. My mother and I were forced to leave our home and move in with her friends because it was the only way she could feel safe in the face of her abusive substance abusing boyfriend. While it was not the easiest thing to go through or witness for a second time in my life in a minimal amount of years, staying focus and having something I was working towards and looking forward to was helpful. Halfway through the month, after finishing at both my jobs and learning so much not only about pushing myself but also about the usefulness of saying no, I packed my things and moved 3 hours away to NYC for school. I was 18, not too naive but eager to learn and experience new things. Orientation in itself was an experience. I met so many new people and some ending up having such an impact on my life, even if they no longer exist as a necessary part of it now. They were relevant when I needed them and aided me for the time being.

September was when things started to pick up speed. If you told me in September that what happened would happen, I would tell you you were insane. I lost a friend, who even after only knowing a few weeks, was a person who was there for me, just turns out we were not meant to stay friends and that is okay.More importantly, I became closer with other people I had met and even met somebody knew who holds his own special place in my heart. I also, to my pleasure, had my first sexual experience with a girl while I was drunk and I would never trade that experience for anything. Even if I could not remember her name after and can barely remember it now. This night was actually the first night I really talked to him. Yes, I met him. He, had my heart thumping in September, filled with joy after experiencing this new moment with somebody I had never had before. He caused plenty of useless confusion for me that I know cannot even remember but without it, probably would not be where we are today.

October, my birth month, was nice in its own way. It was when I began getting close with her. Not only with her though, but I also got to know other people I had not known that well. I am forever grateful for these people as they created a community that I feel I could be apart of, while not having to always be apart of. Distance, I learned, is necessary for me. I need space from people in that being around the same ones constantly drives me crazy. This fact, is something I truly got comfortable with around this time. I also, against my free will, got closer with him but that's alright. I had a pleasant birthday and, came out to my longtime friend. She is great and I love her. I, being a little bitch, had to use ridiculous analogies to come out but it is difficult when somebody has known you a certain way for so long. You do not want to alter that image they have of you and possibly ruin the relationship. Her, being the bestest friend ever, was supportive and it unlocked this part of my life that I had been wanting to tell her. I finally had that chance.

October was disappointing still, in some ways, in that I did not do as well as I would have liked on my midterms. I was at school to do well and succeed, to further my education. And here I was, blowing that aspect off. It manifested itself in my less than satisfactory grade on my psych midterm. However devastating that was, it encouraged me to study for my other midterms which, thankfully, I did much better on. It was a reminder that procrastination got me nowhere and I needed to focus. It lead to me taking more thorough notes the second half of the semester and studying more.

While the first half of October leading up to my birthday was eventful in itself, Halloween was its own ballpark. You see, a week before I kissed her for the first time while I was tipsy and then went to him. It, for the first time, brought up a real issue I had to deal with. I like these two people and I do not want to hurt either of them. Halloween, I went to a party with her and, as a drunk dumbass, made out with her. I enjoyed it but it did nothing but confuse me.

November was filled with me going back and forth between him and her. I did not know what or who I wanted and while that part has not changed, I am dealing with the situation in a healthier way, to some extent at least. It was also filled with me getting my first writing job and therefore, my first step in the door to working with authors in the future and possibly writing myself. Furthermore, it taught me, more than anything, the absolute necessity of communication but we are still working on that one. It was also the first time I went home since August and it was interesting to see how nothing really changes when you leave. I feel as if I could leave home for years and come home and be completely unfazed. Everything is a cycle here. It is nice to be somewhere and go places where everything is always new. I don’t think I want to be stuck watching these cycles anymore now that I know how much more interesting life can be. I went to a wedding too and it was so beautiful. It reminded me that even if for a moment, love does exist, no matter what it turns into. It is so tragic how we let bad experiences way more heavily upon us than the good. Anyway, the wedding was great and it made me excited for when I marry my wife. So many people were complaining but I thought it was beautiful anyway. Watching those little moments between the bride and groom, even if nobody was sober, was so impactful. That is what I want from my wife and I want to not be afraid to let myself have it.

In December, I came back to campus a wreck. I spent a week long break barely talking to anybody and ignoring the two people who had the most impact in my life. The worst thing is me getting way too high my first night back and then having to have a serious conversation with her. I think she did not notice, but that night is blurry to me. A positive from that however, thanks to her, we were back on good terms after not speaking for two weeks and it brought us, to my displeasure, closer. That’ll be painful later but for now, all is good. Until I face the reality that there is a small possibility that I'll never see her again but that's neither here nor there and I have no right to be selfish and make that situation about me. I am concerned about her and hope she is okay or as okay as any college student can be. I just want to see her happy honestly. She deserves that at least. He I did not talk to for two weeks as well. Not talking to him until a week after I got back, I got drunk and was like alright I need to see him, after listening to Marvin's Room and crying which is my civil duty as an over-dramatic light skin. I then got more drunk and forced us to talk about our feelings. Now, we are in a better place we have been in awhile.

I left for break in a really good mindset. I feel as if I am in a good spot with the relationships in my life. I am the best mentally I have been in a while and honestly, have little stress. I am going to soak in this place for as long as I can.

So, how would I rate my year overall. As far as learning goes and accomplishments, I would give myself a ⅘ stars. I accomplished so much and have learned so much. I have done so much and experienced so much. I accomplished things that, if you told my bum ass a year ago, I would say no, I did not do that because I would have never tried. Mentally I would give this year a ⅖. I have had some of my lowest lows that I have had in a LONG time. I believe that comes with big changes and new experiences though. It was just me trying to figure things out and, hopefully, in the future I will be able to process and handle similar situations better. I appreciate this year for everything it gave. Everything it taught me. Everyone it brought in and took out of my life. This will be a year I look back at and call life changing and I am so thankful for that.

Thank You 2019.

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lighthouseroleplay · 5 years ago

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ROMAIN AUCLAIR

( 21 , cis male , he/him )

♪♫ currently listening ⧸⧸ victorious by panic at the disco!

a bottle of champagne shattered on the ground, syllables fumbled in a mouth unused to them, fingertips that smell of smoke. a smear of crimson lipstick, white teeth grinning widely, dark leather jackets on broad shoulders. neatly tailored shirts, autumn trees’ burnt orange hue, marble statues, an ever-present disdain for authority. the gleam of fireworks, dark alleys, a loud arrogance.

• montgomery was a hookup, nothing more. or at least that’s what you’d assumed? in a back corner of a party, kissing gently, until you or he disappeared back into it — barely something to register on your own radar. it seemed to have registered, on his, though, and the way he blushed to look at you, avoided you in class and stammered, shyly: it was endearing, and made you curious, made you wonder if to him it was perhaps more than that to him.

• ramirez was your partner in crime, unused to the type of luxury you reveled in, but a willing participant nonetheless. you appreciated their effortless cool, shared their music with your friends back in france, and wanted their success, not for the acclaim it would bring you, as their friend, but in a surprisingly selfless way. they had a passion for music in a way you didn’t understand, but admired: you’d never felt so passionate about anything. music, intellectual pursuits, sports, all had always felt almost useless, a means to an end, never anything you wanted to devote your life to. ramirez knew what they wanted to do, who they wanted to be, and you longed for that kind of certainty.

taken by julie ⧸⧸ younes kahlaoui

PARIS, FRANCE

“vraiment, cette attitude, il tient ça de ta famille.”

“t’es pas sérieux? t’as vue ta mère? elle se prend pour la reine-mère, nous parle comme si on était qu’une bande de chiens. elle est aussi arrogante que ton fils!”

“non. définitivement pas. ce gamin, c’est ton fils.”

the road ahead is flat, uneventful. trees are running, and romain tries to find someone, something, hiding into the trees. his father’s driving, fast and careless. his mother is fixing her makeup again. they’re both trying to convince each other that romain is not their son; that his faults are a result of either DNA, and not a result of their parenting. never would they win an award for being the most present, caring parents. both are successful, father works in the financial world, his mother a up-and-coming fashion designer. they fight, alot. not often about their three older sons. but mostly about the youngest. they often do that when the boy messes up. today, it’s a fist in an annoying girl’s face. she kept telling him that he was stupid. kept laughing at him you have girl lips and pointing at him. his mother always told him that he should never hit girls (but boys are ok, right mother?) but his father always told him that real men stood up when they are intimidated, bullied. so why, oh why, is it bad that he hit angela’s bird-like face? she certainly deserved it. romain is a real man, he stood up.

his mother sighs, romain keeps his attention focused on the road outside. she turns to him, her dark hair encircling her face, accentuating her jaw. his mother, imane auclair, née imane karam, is the epitome of refinement. though, her eyes are never kind. especially not towards her last son. she told him, once, that she hated him. hated how gorgeous he was, as if he stole all of her remaining beauty. romain was seven at that time, and he remembers this as if it just happened. he despises imane. can’t wait to be out of her clutches. “mais pour l’amour de dieu romain, pourquoi t’as frappé cette fille? t’es en manque d’attention, c’est ça?” she barks the words at him, but he focuses on the scenery outside. thinks that if he keeps his attention elsewhere, then her words would glide off him. she scoffs and turns back to rearranging her lipstick.

romain does not understand where his anger comes from; would never quite be brave enough to look deep. it is probably rooted in this twisted thing the auclairs call family.

the trees are running, and romain thinks he spots something dark, dangerous, lingering in the woods.

they send him to Sainte Perpetue’s lycee, in the heart of Paris. he’s fourteen and has been expelled from three different elementary schools. no matter the price his parents offer, not a lot of lycees wants him in their ranks. he’s been into fights, he’s been arrogant, he’s been abusive. he’s a bully and he knows it.

of all the things they do, they send him to a boarding school. he wouldn’t have minded the public educational system, rather than this prissy, snob school. it’s a school known for its disciplinary measures. nuns march the corridors, brothers watch their recess time. it’s a prison, disguised as higher education. they think that he will learn his place in the world.

instead of discipline, romain learns procrastination.

instead of rigueur, romain learns the taste of stolen champagne bottles.

he meets beatrice there, whom is highly mean but highly fun. she teaches him how to put makeup on, lipstick red and messed up on his face. une image de sa mère, pâle parodie, un amour cynique. she does not care much about a lot of things. romain can relate.

he meets martin there, whom he kisses in front of the whole school in cinquième. martin does not speak to him for two whole months after that; romain knew he was not ready to come out. but romain has never been much of a good friend, or patient. but martin is a steady, if not a bit overwhelming, friend.

he despises the uniform, gets detention everytime he forgets his tie. the evergoing stares of the teachers, watching them, making sure they form a line, that they don’t run in corridors, that the uniforms are pressed and cleaned. nothing better for difficult childs, the principal assured his mother. she did not even say goodbye, désolé, mon chéri. j’ai une réunion avec les investisseurs.

it’s not all bad, romain knows. he discovers literature, and poetry, then. gets lost in music. martin makes him listen to new bands, americans, french, even canadians. he joins beatrice in secret parties, they get into bars during the weekends, even though they’re underaged. they drink and smoke, and it eases everything. no more pressure, just the low, warm feeling in his belly, like a beast that has finally calmed down. he kisses martin again, in a dark alley, the night heavy around them, like a blanket protecting them from the outside, the reality of their own situation. martin is pliant, flexible, under his hands. and when romain gets on his knees, martin whispers his name against the silence, and romain loves how it sounds like a prayer.

martin comes up to them with a crumbled sheet, sits next to romain (close, always too close, romain feels claustrophobic) and ignores the dirty looks sent by beatrice, who was busy talking about romain’s mother new collection (she keeps insisting that romain introduces her to his mother). “vous savez pas, je fais partie de l’échange!” he’s shaking the paper so much, which contains a list of name, and romain tries to take a look but can’t. he frowns and goes to fetch it as soon as martin calms down a little, an agile move, like a panther going for the kill. as soon as he reads it, he scoffs. gives back the paper. “quoi, romain? t’as pas été pris? hallelujah pour ces pauvres américains.” beatrice snickers, steals the rest of romain’s vegetables.

romain is pissed. not that he’s definitely passionate about traveling, but everything sounds better than france right now. and he’s got good grades (he’s got excellent grades). and he didn’t get into detention for the last three weeks. he wanted a place in the exchange, mostly to shut up martin. but they decided to choose martin, of all people. sweet, immaculate, pure and well-mannered martin. he looks over at martin, who’s ecstatic, listening to beatrice’s advices on how to get in bed with american boys with a small smile. he feels robbed.

martin is called to the principal’s office a few days later.

martin gets detention for the rest of the year, then. loses his spot in the exchange. that’s what you get when the schools finds pot and alcohol in your room, under your bed. they don’t listen to his defenses, because nothing can go against cold, hard evidence.

and coup de théâtre! romain gets the spot (also gets a black eye from martin’s fist, but no one comments on that).

THE DAY

“Grief is something you carry around inside of you, like a secret second heart, its rhythm known only to you.”

she keeps talking and talking about it. it’s an obsession, one he can’t quite get into. he wishes they could go back to smoking joints by the port without andy going on about the damned lighthouse. he tells her that; romain hasn’t known her for as long as some other students here, but they developed an easy, honest kind of friendship. harsh she is, she often tells him how an asshole he is. and in the same way, he calls her out when she’s being too much. “can you … chill? i mean, you were supposed to show me california, not some dusty, old … books.” he gestures to the book she borrowed (stole) from the archives. she fixes him with a glare, one he’s come to know so well in the last two years. he likes tenebrin, more than he would admit to martin an beatrice. but he felt somewhat calmer here, away from the imposing pressure of his family. he still got detention in tenebrin, though. it seems that teachers did not like his french callouts. or french replies. fair enough, he guesses.

“fine, walk me through it again.” that’s something they both have in common. their curiosity. how much they both can push against tenebrin before tenebrin pushes back? when she asks him, have you ever swam in the ocean and he easily says yes, he can see the jealousy in her eyes. he thinks he understands then.

so he follows where she goes, because he’s curious. though, there’s an anxious feeling that creeps up in the back of his mind as soon as they arrive in the port. a storm is brewing, the waves crashing upon the shoreline. violent, angry. he’s familiar now, with the weather, grey skies painting the scenery, the morning fog and the dark waves. andrea is far in front of him, and he takes a moment to look at the lighthouse. standing strong in the port, he never really gave it too much attention. but now, he thinks, it feels as if its guarding the town from something. he wonders about the tales that andrea filled his mind with, all those months ago, when he first set foot in tenebrin. reaching out without much thinking for his phone, he texts ramirez real quick. a message, void of any fun or jokes. like they’re used to. “andy! wait up!” he runs after her.

he comes back, mouth shut, eyes empty. martin and beatrice shoot him looks, they’re worried. he keeps reaching for his phone, an unsent text to andrea. if he calls her number, he can still hear her voicemail. his cellphone bills explode, long distance fees ignored. the clares hasn’t deactivated it yet. maybe like him, they like to call her. maybe like him, they have unsaid things, heavy on their heart, that they pour in andrea’s voicemail. he didn’t even stay for the burial. unable to meet mrs. clare’s eyes, guilt pressing on his shoulders. pressing, and pushing down. soon he’ll join her. maybe he should have joined her, should have tried to save her. a voice in the back of his mind (why didn’t you help) keeps interrupting his every thoughts. his days are (coward, coward) disrupted, short and too long.

beatrice brings him to the school’s counselor; romain doesn’t see the point. in less than a week, they’ll graduate. he will leave the Sainte Perpetue’s white halls, will bid adieu to the white, austere marble statues adorning the school’s corridors. will shed the school’s uniform like a second skin, and will fly away. the school knows what happened, of course they do. they probably think it’s his fault. but they say nothing to him, and the counselor only hands him pamphlets to help him deal with his fucking grief.

romain laughs in his face, something twisted and ugly. remembers; that’s what you get when you let people in.

le deuil.

his brother says something, accuses the dead. time holds still, all of them waiting for the other shoe to drop. her mother silently scoffs at manu, sends him a glare. manu shrugs. romain understands, in this very moment, that they don’t really get what happened. they think it’s his fault (they don’t say it, but he knows. oh yes, he knows that this guilt, eating and gnawing at his heart, is nothing but deserved).

romain hits manu, his mother screams and brunch is, once again, ruined because of him. his brother said well she just had to put a lifevest or something. his knuckles are red, tainted by his anger, by blood that’s not his. gabe grabs him and shoves him away. he wants to tear them apart, he wants to see them in her place, fighting against the waves.

WELCOME BACK, WILD CHILD

Sometimes it makes no sense at all

If I stumble, will I fall?

If I fall, I'll tuck and roll

Close my eyes and let the love-light guide me home

Let the love-light guide me home

martin looks at him, smoke hanging from his lips. romain would like to immortalize this look, he thinks. the moon plays with shadows on the other man’s pale skin, an halo around his head. a marble statues in a long corridors of mistakes and lies. a fixture in his life, unmoving. present. “romain, you know you’re an asshole, yeah?”

waves crashing upon the shoreline. violent, angry

romain nods, moves slowly, like a cat ready to hunt. kneels before martin, the wooden floor hard underneath him. “yeah, i guess.” his long fingers takes the cigarette, brings it to his own lips. inhales, exhales. martin leans, breathes the smoke for a moment. crashes in romain a second later, hand in his hair. they kiss for awhile, practically unmoving. romain realizes that he missed him, somewhere between the end of the high school and his moving away to london. it resurfaces now, as he came back to france. romain’s father suffered a fall from horseback, a tragic, ugly thing. his death does not come that much of a surprise, or does not bring grief.

after what happened, three years ago, romain knows grief well enough. does not need it anymore. his father’s death is a sad affair, brought him back to la mère patrie. he’s been studying photography, back in london. working with some of his mother’s contacts (a debt he knows he could never repay). heard through beatrice that martin was sick. some kind of unpronounceable cancer. if romain had been a poet, he might have convinced himself that he was cursed to love ghosts.

the waves are --

“you’re leaving. again.”

romain nods, again. he hates how martin always sees through him, but revels in this easiness. the dreams came and stayed. romain told himself at first that he perhaps associated martin to everything that happened in tenebrin. that would be the reason why he kept having those horrible dreams.

-- crashing.

“are you coming back?” martin’s fingers follows the hard lines of romain’s jaw, cheekbones, lips. romain closes his eyes for a moment, focuses on the feeling. he’s not sure what will happen back in tenebrin. he has a bad feeling about this.

“i don’t know.”

have you ever swam in the ocean

(well she just had to put a life vest or something)

“what a fucking asshole.”

romain chuckles, looks up at martin’s perfect face. if he’d been less than an horrible man, perhaps he would have told him that he’d call him. that he’d miss him. romain does not know about those things; his head is filled with waves, crashing and violent.

he sets foot in tenebrin port once again, his jacket heavy on his shoulders. he walks, slowly, through the silent streets. it’s too early, and ramirez won’t answer his texts. he got practically nothing with him, beside a small hand bag. he remembers some of the stores, colourful against the usual monotony of the port. fishermen told him, once when he travelled in newfoundland, that the people used to paint their houses with bright colours so that the sailors could see the coast, and recognize their homes. why would tenebrin do the same, when their sea was nothing but murderous?

romain walks, and walks. and ends up here. their bench. he sits, looks down at the tips of his fingers, pink with cold. looks back up, at the sea : “alors, on fait quoi maintenant?”.

#auclair: skel #skel: all #auclair #skel: closed

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friendlyneighborhoodborg · 6 years ago

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Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 4: Rainbow| “Color by Numbers”

And I’m barely on time for Day 4 of @wearemiraculous‘ challenge. I don’t have time to edit it tonight, school and procrastination mean I’m posting this late at night, and I have some more homework I want to get done before tomorrow.

Again, the prompt interpretation was very loose here. “Rainbow,” I interpreted to mean as... well, I think we all know what the rainbow’s supposed to mean.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.

(~2700 flipping words.)

Edit: Something’s wonky with the url, so here’s a link to the chapter on AO3.

Subsequent Edit: It might work now, but I’m keeping the link up just in case.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

“Alright,” Nathaniel surveyed. “I don’t have a lot of homework tonight. I can do the line-art up to page 3 while you’re settling the specific dialogue.”

Marc looked at the sketchbook. Nathaniel had filled in about five full pages with incredibly detailed pencil sketches, including multilayered shading, during the hour they had been sitting here. On top of this, he’d created many new reference sketches for the two villains – Princess Fragrance with an updated costume, and the newly-created Ghostlight – as well as some new action poses for Reverser (Marc decided to keep the name after all). It looked like something out of an actual, professional superhero comic, and he had the gall to sit here and claim he could only ink half of it.

This boy was going to be the flipping death of him.

“You’re really good,” he said before he could stop himself. “I mean… you’re going to be famous one day.”

“Hah.” He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “No, I’m not there yet. Maybe you, though, one day.”

“N-no.” Marc retreated into himself. “I’ve just been writing what you told me. It’s your story.”

“It’s a crap story.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a great story, and it’s yours. You’ve got great art, awesome designs, and the only weak thing here is my writing.”

“You see,” Nathaniel said, sitting back up. “That’s where you’re wrong on everything.”

“You could’ve had the story without me,” Marc stated. It wasn’t even an argument or an opinion in his eyes- it was just fact that Nathaniel was a better creator. “Just saying, you should have found someone better.”

“Well, look at this.” Marc’s journal was snatched out of his hands, despite his protests. Nath pointed out the section Marc had already shown. “This is emotional stuff, you hear? Reverser gets de-akumatized, he runs away when he doesn’t change back and Mighty-Illustrator finds him.” He skimmed down the paragraph. “All these parallels you drew between them, being the only ones to stay powered up even uncorrupted, all this, this depth you gave them that I never even thought they could have.” He slammed down the journal and stared him down. “This scene would be meaningless without your dialogue.”

“It’s just words.” Marc’s voice was weaker now. “That’s all I’m good at. And it was your story. You set everything up, I just filled in the blanks.”

“All you’re good at?” Nathaniel released the journal from its captivity. “Sure, fine, okay. Words are all you’re good at. And words were all Shakespeare was good at. It was all Dumas was good for. Everything Tolkien was good for.” He pointed at it. “This is just… you’re incredible, okay? Seriously. And trust me, once they see it, everyone’s gonna agree. Then you’ll get the appreciation you deserve.” He started placing his sketchbook, pens, and pencils into his bag. “Now take a rest, man, you deserve it. I’ll keep you posted.”

It was one of Nathaniel’s many attributes. He was so adamant that people he admired had a worth that exceeded his own, Marc had to wonder how he didn’t realize his own abilities. No, drawing was just a thing he liked to do, never mind that he was so good at it. Nathaniel seemed more interested in Marc’s contribution to the project, something Marc hadn’t expected from his first impressions. Now his friend was trying to moderate his wellbeing?

Marc found himself unable to say no.

Here he was, a trashy gay mess of a thing. If Nathaniel kept up with his talent and humility and his whole coolest-person-on-the-planet deal, Marc would never shake his crush at this rate.

Elsewhere in the room, Rose walked into the art room and made her way towards Juleka, who was tuning her guitar. “Sorry Julie,” she apologized. “I looked all over the classroom, and I couldn’t find your mirror anywhere.”

“Really?” Juleka smirked, guitar on her knee, flashing the chain that was on her wrist. “What a surprise.”

“Oh!” Rose looked at the accessory in surprise. “You found it!”

“It was in the locker room. I went down while you were across the hall.” From behind her bass, she withdrew a small black box with a pink ribbon. “I grabbed this, too.”

Rose’s eyes widened at the unexpected object. “Julie, what is this?”

“An early surprise.” The goth unstrapped the guitar to stand up and hand the present over. “I know our six-month anniversary isn’t till Saturday, but…” A wide smile spread across her features. “Well, I couldn’t wait. I had to see your face when you opened it.”

Rose looked at it in surprise. “For me?” She hesitantly picked it up from the gloved hand. “Julie, you shouldn’t have.”

“Oh, I kinda did.” Juleka waved a hand dismissively. “Considering you’re always getting me things, I had to return the favor somehow.”

“No, you didn’t,” she argued, loosening the bow on top. “You’re more than enough already. I always feel like I’m in your debt.” She almost dropped the box once she opened it and saw inside. “Oh. My. God.”

Marc stopped packing up to look across at the two.

Rose gingerly fingered the sterling chain, hypnotized by the charm. Marc couldn’t see it from his vantage point, but it was a small heart, the size of a coin, with spiked silver-colored bat wings coming off of it. The heart was set in a chrome border, cast resin of swirling dark pink. “Did you make this yourself?

“Luka helped with the metalwork. It’s not real silver, it’s tin, but… well, there isn’t really a difference. You outshine both the same.”

Rose stifled a laugh, unable to stop herself from tearing up in euphoria. She rushed Juleka and enveloped her in a hug. “I love it! I’ll wear it every day!” She quickly clasped it around her neck. “I love you so much!” Rose forcefully pulled her face down (the downside of dating someone a head taller than her) and crashed into it.

Marc stared at them, wondering what it’d be like to hold Nathaniel like that and kiss him like that. And for just a second, watching their young love, he let himself dream that his crush wasn’t such a bad thing.

“Oh, come on,” Alix groaned, breaking the spell. “Teacher! They’re at it again!”

The girls separated, blushing when they realized they had an audience.

The art teacher sighed. “Alix…” He got up from his seat. “Girls,” he reminded, “you did say you had a lot of work to do. I can only keep the room open for another half-hour.”

Rose sighed. “Yes, Mr.—”

“Hey, Marc,” Nathaniel nudged him out of his observation. “You okay? You should get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” he assured, waving a hand towards the pair. “Just, uh… researching our subjects, I guess.”

“Oh yeah. Rose and Juleka.” Nath nodded. “They’re interesting, alright. Part of the reason I agreed to do them for the comic. That reminds me, we should really start thinking about how we’re introducing Juleka’s new villain.”

“Their dynamic is really weird. Juleka’s normally really quiet. But when she’s talking to Rose, it’s so much easier for her to talk.”

“You noticed that too, huh?”

“They’re…” Marc bit his lip. “They’re really happy, aren’t they?”

“If not, they sure fooled me.”

“Then… And they get to be themselves.”

Nathan looked at them. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Good for them.”

Rose and Juleka wrapped up, and Rose walked over to the Graphiti Gurl (as she requested it be spelled). “That wasn’t very nice, Alix.”

“I’m sorry,” Alix grunted, doodling in her homework. “I’m not in the mood today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Nevertheless, she persisted. “But you could have said nicely if we were bothering you.”

“Probably.” She looked up. “I wasn’t in the mood for that either.” They looked at each other for a moment. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m an ass, it’s in my genetics.”

“Right next to the ace gene?” Juleka asked.

“Oh,” Alix grinned, “you bet your bass it is.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just not terribly into everyone’s hyperromantic bullshit today.” She closed her workbook. “No offense in particular to the lovely gay couple in here.”

Marc suddenly found himself speaking. “It’s not as if their love is a hindrance to your life.”

“It is a little in my case.” She turned to Marc. “But it’s not cause they’re gay, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’d be just as moody if a straight couple did what they just did. I’m just not a lovely person. It always seems so fake, the way they people those things, and it gives me a weird sense of… squick.” She shuddered. “I’m aromantic, if you didn’t know.”

“Sorry?”

“I don’t fall in love. Aromantic/Asexual, I don’t even get crushes.”

“Huh.” Marc sat down closer to her. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Not many people do. It’s the more obscure end of the sexuality spectrum.” She gestured all around them. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but almost everyone in this room is queer.”

“R-really?”

“Yep.” Alix cracked her knuckles and stared him down. “That better not be a problem, Shakespeare.”

“No, I… I just thought there was supposed to be some… ten-percent statistic or something.”

This elicited a laugh from the punk. “Marc, Marc, my dear Marc,” she put her feet up on another chair. “We are Parisian. We are the ten-percent statistic.”

Marc was overwhelmed with yet another emotion he couldn’t name. “So,” he stalled. “You’re all… gay?”

“Queer,” Rose corrected. “That’s the blanket term. You already know Juleka and I are dating, right?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Well, I’m bisexual.” She put a hand on the taller shoulder and leaned into her. “And she’s a lesbian.”

“I noticed.” Marc did a double-take. “Wait, hang on, did you say everyone?”

“Well, everyone but you, maybe. Even the art teacher’s out.”

“So, what about…” He turned to his writing partner.

Nathaniel realized everyone was looking at him. “Um… I don’t…” he buried his nose into Marc’s writing journal, masterfully evading whatever question they were going to ask before they asked it.

“Forget it,” Alix said. “He’s gone statue again. I can never get anything out of him like this.” “Hey, anyone see where the art teacher went?”

“It’s 16:30.” “He must have left. Guess we can leave now.”

“Alright.” Alix scooped everything into her bag. “Later, losers. Nate?”

Nath left with her. Marc walked out as well, Rose and Juleka at his heels.

‘Everyone in here is different,’ he mused. ‘Like me. Could I…’

“Hey Shakespeare,” Nath stopped him. “Your bag.”

‘Shoot.’

Marc ran up to catch the closing door. “See you tomorrow, he called, retreating back inside.

‘Maybe one day.’

“Rose,” beckoned Juleka, at the base of the metal stairs. “You coming?”

Rose bit her lip nervously. “Behind you, my love.” She turned back towards the room. “I’ll catch up.”

He stuffed everything into his sack, and he was about to leave when…

“Rose?” he asked, looking at the girl in the doorway with confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we need to talk.”

“… about the comic?”

“About you.” She stepped forward. “You’re acting really weird.”

“Uhhh…… this is how I normally act.”

“And it’s really weird. You flipped out about Juleka yesterday, and today you were kinda staring at us, and you were interested in our dating preferences.” She gave him a sharp poke in the ribs. “You don’t have a crush on my girlfriend, do you?”

“N-no,” Marc yelped. “I-I don’t.”

“Then why are you stuttering?”

“B-because you’re… really close up, it’s actually kind of uncomfortable.”

“Oh, sorry.” She backed away. “Let’s see, then… it’s something about a crush, though isn’t it? I’m really good at telling when someone has a crush.”

“I-I don’t want to—”

“Come on, I won’t judge—”

“Please, Rose, can you just drop it!?”

Rose quieted, shocked at Marc’s rise in volume. He instantly regretted his tone.

“I’m sorry.” He panicked. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He stood there, letting the atmosphere soak up the noise. Then, with his voice so low he might as well have stayed silent, he mumbled. “I like boys.”

“Oh.” Rose smiled sympathetically. “I… That can’t have been easy for you. I promise, it doesn’t make a lick of difference.”

She held out her hand. “Friends?”

Marc stared at it.

For the first time in his life, there was someone who was queer, and who knew he was gay, and who… wanted to be his friend.

Here, in front of him, was someone who might know what was wrong with him.

“Is it… normal?”

Rose smiled. “Yes.”

“Not that.” He summoned his courage. “Is it normal for… for gay men to… not feel like men sometimes?”

That was it. The leap of faith. Either he was normal, there was something in his life that could even be considered normal, and he might be able to live with that.

Rose wasn’t smiling anymore though. Her eyes had gone wide, and she was looking at Marc with dismay.

“I… I don’t think so.”

Marc shattered.

“Why do… why do you ask?”

“Because I’m fucked up.” He fell back onto the box, clutching his arms and hunching over. His hollow eyes started dripping black mascara, spilling over from an over-filled heart. “Because I’m not normal, and I like boys instead of girls, and sometimes…”

Rose didn’t answer, or bid him continue, or say anything that could help him determine how she’d react.

He sniffed. “Sometimes… I think I’d feel better if…” He was just waiting now, any moment, Rose was going to turn and walk away in disgust. “It’s-It’s fucking crazy, but…”

Rose put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey…” she whispered. “You can let it out.”

With one final push, and the reassurance he needed, he forced himself to.

“Sometimes I want to be a girl!”

Rose hugged him. Marc weakly returned the embrace, burying his face into her shoulder.

“There, there,” she consoled, a voice genuinely caring about his trouble. “So is that why you freaked out when… oh. Reflekta zapped you, didn’t she?”

Marc sobbed a little. Rose held him tighter.

The pain was getting too big to ignore now.

He shifted in his seat and Rose let go. “But just, like,” he blubbered. “I’m fine, a lot of the time. Being me, being a boy. It’s just sometimes… not all the time, but sometimes I wish my chest was bigger and I didn’t have a—” He looked up, blushing.

Rose got the picture. “Oh, buddy… Is that it?” She took a deep breath. “Well, I can’t say I know much about dysphoria, but I guess—”

“Does it even count as dysphoria? If I don’t feel it all the time?” He grabbed at his hair, the stress overcoming him. “And that’s not even all of it… sometimes I just feel wrong. No matter how much makeup I put on, how feminine I look, it’s always wrong, like nothing I can do will make me look right. And sometimes, the more I use, the less it works. And it feels like I’m missing some crucial detail, but I don’t know what, and it just leaves me feeling… empty.” He covered his face with his hands. “I feel like that now.”

“I’ve done some reading online,” Rose said. “Dysphoria hits in different ways sometimes. If you’re a girl…” She trailed off, surveying him. “If you’re actually a girl, you shouldn’t force yourself to be a boy. That could really be bad for you, with the coginate… distance – shoot, I heard Max say it once. When you try to accept two different things at the same time?”

“Doublethink?”

“Sounds right. Maybe.”

Marc chuckled ruefully. “So you think I’ve tricked myself into being a boy?”

“Maybe. Whatever it is, I’ll help you.” She caressed his shoulder again, offering her comforting touch. “You can be yourself, Marc, no one can take that from you.”

“Trust me.”

You know what, any editing of this work after I post these will come after the week is already finished. I am not giving myself more to do. But these are done for now, until I think of any better rewordings.

(How I wrote this: I typed out a few cool moments ahead of time, got distracted, and connected them all on the day it was due.)

Comments much appreciated, as always, I want to know if there’s anything I should change in future chapters.

#Marc Appreciation Week #nathmarc #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #alix kubdel #rose lavillant #julerose #juleka couffaine #in no particular order #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug

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internutter · 6 years ago

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A Year in Review, Part 1

Y’all are doing posts of pride this year, and that’s pretty awesome. What I thought I’d do is also highlight the pretty awesome stuff I found because I’m proud of the peeps who did that much, this year.

[I’m gonna link to vids in here because embedding them causes random problems, wtf Tumblr?]

January:

@lexicals went the extra mile and made this vid.

A moment for me to rant, here. I have tried making animatics and the work is fucking INTENSE. People who do these things deserve every praise.

February:

@gladejade drew this thing and it gives me life. The sass. The unofficial-papa-Taako being so proud of his beautiful magic boy. The expression much like a cat who found the canary in the cream. This deserves to be hung in a gallery somewhere because I said so. So ner.

March:

Home, remixed by amella and animated by KUWACHA (ZERO), here.

What the fuck planet do these people come from and can I catch their talent if I rub up against them? I need to know their secrets. Like, fucking hell, this was awesome.

April:

@incendavery fucking nails 90% of my entire mood.

Love and hugs to you. I’ve been there. I hope you wriggle your way out of it. It’s not a fun party, but I’m certain we can escape with a big enough distraction.

May:

@trainwreckgenerator cemented the headcannon for me that Lucretia always looks ten million percent DONE with life whenever THB are up to their shenanigans with this comic.

April:

@sillyandquiteawkward drew a lovely, steamy sketch of The Spine and I mislaid the lineart/finished pic? Get back to me, I fucking LOVE steamy pictures of my fave robot band.

May:

@iamthehelperdog gave me a good excuse for Kravitz to be a Dad. I shall tag you when the fic finally comes forth. Thanks for that batch of plot kittens. You’re inspirational.

June:

@r00ib0s gave me a MIGHTY NEED for terrible Elf larvae. I am blaming you for all subsequent Tiny Terrible Twins fanfics I write from this moment onwards. Bless.

July:

@halpdevon provided flesh to the thousand headcannons that the Starblaster had one tiny bathroom between seven people. Then @soledadcatalina provided an excellent description for the visually impaired.

Much love to both of you. You rock.

August:

@sporkart did a vid to My Way that is damn near heartbreaking. The volumes of effort in this are astounding. Also props for ‘soft shell’ Taako. Ten thousand thumbs’ up.

September:

@dukestewart made a Steven Universe animated GIF that looks like it could well be an actual part of the show. Loan me some of your sorcery. I have a firstborn child, going cheap.

October:

@madelinehmcgrane was just off the freaking wall with vampire horse and the werewolf rustlers. It’s ideas like this that make the world turn.

November:

@k-eke fucking nailed the procrastination creative process with this gif. You’re probably heaped with praise on the daily, but you deserve twice as much.

December:

Last and by no means least, @dualityandsuch for creating so. Very. Many. Fantastic artworks like this one. This is just one amongst maybe a hundred that they’ve sent me and -holy shit- they work real fast. Faster, almost, than I can type.

May we egg each other on for a long time yet.

Thanks for putting up with my little rant here. Part 2 will be the things I am proud of. Link heavy.

#2018 #year in review #I'm proud of you all

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mystomachfeelsawful · 4 years ago

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5:47

doing this early this year because I’m procrastinating.

2020 was good to me. I know that sounds really shitty to say, but it really was. I completed two drafts of new plays, acquired some steady teaching work, had my first professional production, started a fund that helped some artists in my hometown, got an HST number from just doing pure theatre work and felt really artistically fulfilled. Strangely enough, a lot of my good fortune started happening once the pandemic started, which is currently baffling to me.

1 - In January, I entered a mediation with a bunch of old classmates and another individual. I can’t legally say what happened in the mediation, but I can say that it had a really profound effect on me. I think I entered the mediation ready to destroy this person and ruin them. But I think somewhere in that, I realized that that wasn’t helpful. It’s always weird thinking back to that time in my life (when I started this tumblr actually!) about how sad I was and how lost I felt and how this person and a few other people really made me feel dreadful. Aside from maybe 2 people in my class, I don’t really connect to anyone from that cohort. But hearing and experiencing closure and learning how to forgive someone face to face, who made me feel like I was worthless felt really impactful. I think I want to enter this decade as a more patient person, especially as I start to engage more with teaching work. That period from 10 years ago taught me about the theatremaker I don’t want to be. So, it’s my responsibility to make space to be the opposite of that - to forgive people when they screw up as opposed to hold it against them and be weird.

2 - I adjudicated the U of T drama festival this year! It took me back to Sears days where I’d do a thing and then wait for feedback from a pro. I found the entire experience super inspiring and I took it pretty seriously. Having come from a really terrible theatre school experience right out of high school, as an educator, it’s really important that I don’t play softball with my students, but also don’t destroy them. I really hope my words gave them confidence as well as things to build upon. I kind of want to be the educator I didn’t have when I originally came to Toronto 10 years ago and only encountered quite recently. There’s also a kind of refreshing lack of cynicism when it comes to student-led/non pro work (more on this later) that I think I’ve been missing in my practise.

3 - I let a group of friends down on a project where I put people in harm’s way. I didn’t stand up for them when bad things happened. As someone who prides himself on making rooms safe, being on the outside of that situation was disturbing and unacceptable. The experience also taught me something I’ve been learning through my whole “career”. It doesn’t matter how prestiguous the institution is. If you don’t feel safe, if you don’t feel comfortable, if you feel isolated and alone, get out. Career advancement shouldn’t destroy you. Aside from the project itself, the environment of being in a mostly white, aggressively conservative town is something I never want to do again -no matter the money or how it’ll move you forward. It’s something I want to put into my personal contract to myself. Unflinchingly.

4 - Similarly, I think I need to incorporate this mentality into the projects/people I work with. I’m down to be challenged, but if someone makes me feel terrible about myself/I get a vibe that they don’t really believe in my work, I need to not engage with them. Sometimes I get starstruck, or I try to please or impress people because I fear of what they’ll think of me in the larger community. I think if I have that fear, maybe that relationship isn’t one I want to explore. I want to work with collaborators who get excited about the same shit I’m excited by, who push me to be better, but who want to run with me as opposed to at their pace.

5 - From March to July 2020, I was trapped in Hamilton, Ontario for over 100 days (thank you, Spring Awakening + COVID). For all of my yammering about how much I loved my hometown in my last post, I was fucking miserable. I have very few friends who currently live in the city, living with two very risk adverse people (as they should be) and feeling like I was trapped in a city that I have complex feelings about was really terrible. I hadn’t been trapped in Hamilton against my will since I got kicked out of Ryerson. From March to May, I was probably the saddest I’d been in a while. I started going to bed at stupid times because I didn’t want to be awake for most of the day. I played a lot of video games, cooked a lot, but creatively I kind of hit a snag. I don’t want to live in Hamilton. I want to create stuff there, but I know I don’t belong in the city. The place has such a weird energy and reminds me of my past failures. It sucks the energy out of me and brings me back to a time where I felt like I had no control over my career and was destined to become a hobbyist in the arts.

6 - During this time, I was sort of kind of busy. I finally made a website, I made a fancy video for a general audition (which actually landed me employment/a relationship with the company!). But most importantly, I think I finally got what Nina was saying. I do have no direction in my career because I’m not applying for things. I’m not reaching out to companies and answering their calls. I haven’t really freelanced. Spring Awakening at HTI, while great for what it was (before we got shut down), was actually an incredibly safe choice. if I really want to do this seriously, why am I not trying to get into pro rooms? Going from festivals to spring was a weird move, but maybe it needed to happen because it made me realize that this isn’t me taking control of my career, this is me taking a step backwards into something I know I can do. When everything re-opens, I do have some gigs lined up, but I want to be aggressive in reaching out to ADs and companies as a director. I never want to be in a situation where I’m trapped in Hamilton with piles of unproduced plays again. I want to get out there and hunt for producing opportunities. Being trapped made me realize that I’d kind of always been trapped and just floating by.

7 - June was kind of a saving grace. Somewhere in the mire of the pandemic, York University came a calling and wanted to commission a new play for their 2020/2021 season. I initially found this really daunting - the plays I’d been working on in the past few years had taken years to write and had led nowhere. My writing lately had been pretty sloppy and well....bad. I said yes, though, because I figured it’d keep me busy. This project kind of made my whole year. Having a dramaturg who wanted to jive with me and build on my ideas was something I hadn’t been engaged with in a long time. Having a team be really excited about the work I was putting out was also kind of thrilling and a novel experience (the last solo written play I’d put up was over 4 years ago). Getting paid a real wage as a playwright for production was something I’d never experienced before. I’m dangerously proud of HAGS, as it made me realize that I can actually write plays and get them put up. That yes, it’s important to take your time, but I can actually be produced and produced on someone else’s terms and timeline.

8 - June also led to the birth of the Garden Project, an initiative created to not only challenge the benign racism of Hamilton’s regional theatre, but also to actually get people in the city paid. Alongside a team of 6 producers, we raised $18000 dollars in a VERY short amount of time. We also gave that money out almost immediately, which was great. If Aquarius won’t do something, we will. We were also called racists for doing the project, which was hilarious. Never change, Hamilton.

9 - Myself, Senjuti and Claire took on Aquarius over what seemed like an endless summer of back and forth emails. I don’t know if anything will change, but we were able to hold a theatre publicly accountable and pressure them into not hiring another man who gaslights his accusers. I will also admit that my participation in this crusade is highly influenced by the fact that this will not effect my career in the slightest. I don’t work professionally in the city. They can’t hurt me.

10 - Arriving back in Toronto as I finished the Ministry of Mundane Mysteries was probably one of the most touching things that happened to me this year. Standing on the balcony during the summer and hearing Hadestown blast over a phone speaker to me was like coming home in a real way. I belong in this city. This is where I want to make work.

11 - Alongside a production draft of HAGS, I finished a full draft of PING! Loads of issues and work to do, but it feels like a step in a more personal direction. Most importantly, I actually did the thing. After giving up on a project I’ve been working on for 4 years, PING feels like a new direction for me, one grounded in my own experiences, interests and fears.

12 - I started running! This deserves it’s own post because it’s to hold myself accountable. I still hate sweating, but doing physical exercise is something I want to keep going post pandemic.

13 - I’m, um, directing Shakespeare maybe next year. We’ll see how that goes.

14 - I guess my final thoughts for 2021 are to keep pushing myself to apply for things I don’t think I’m ready for (NOT ADing), to stop waiting for things to happen to me and to take the same charge of my career post pandemic that I did pre-pandemic. Aside from the nightmare of the pandemic, 2020 was a rejuvenating year that made me realize that I’m still capable of doing this on all fronts. Whether that be new play creation, working as an educator with One Song Glory, York University, Hart House and UTM, directing stuff or just learning how to be accountable for things and supporting young, exciting artists, I want to be the theatremaker I looked up to 10 years ago. One I didn’t have at Ryerson. And I feel I’m doing that.

VIDEO GAMES (I PLAYED A LOT. In order.)

1 - Last of Us Part 2 - I will defend this game to the end of time. This game made me a better person and really taught me about empathy, forgiveness, but most importantly that you can don’t have to like someone to forgive them. I feel a lot of gamers missed the point with this one, or didn’t want to engage with Abby for their own reasons, which is fine. But a character doesn’t have to be likeable to be well written. The game is structured so you don’t consider her perspective until you hate her guts, which is kind of how life works. In this essay I will....

2 - Hades - Hades is the most fun I’ve made in a game in a really, really, really long time. Addictive gameplay, an ever evolving story and incredible re-playability makes it something I keep going back to for 4 hour bursts (the time really flies by!). Hades is a game where I thought about it when I wasn’t playing it. Radical.

3 - Night in the Woods - Is one of the best written games I’ve ever played. Super nuanced, really well written, I had to stop playing to be like, damn, this is good. The music also slaps.

4 - Crash Bandicoot 4 - is old school platforming done right. Really hard levels. twitch controls. Gorgeous design. Loads of collectables.

5 - Wide Ocean Big Jacket - is a 2 hour adventure game that’s cute, sweet, really well written, and a great game to play with buds.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: Animal Crossing: New Horizons, Moonlighter, The Witcher 3, Cyberpunk 2077 (IS FINE. Everyone is mad.), Control, Yakuza 0 (just started. Really dig it!), Detroit: Become Human

DISAPPOINTMENTS: Wandersong (I didn’t like the art. I know this is super weird, but the art style didn’t click for me and made me disengage from the game), Spider-man (the gameplay was dull for me and Peter doesn’t really grow or change), Banner Saga (I just can’t get into the gameplay or the UI).

PLAYS (not in order)

1 - Oil

2 - 4inxchange

3 - kitne saare laloo yahan pey hain

4 - Ministry of Mundane Mysteries

5 - Heroes of the Fourth Turning

HM - Deer Woman, Karen Hines’ nightmare Windsor Play

TV SHOWS/MOVIES (not in order)

1 - Haikyuu

2 - Queen’s Gambit

3 - Survivor Season 40

4 - Run with the Wind

5 - The Platform

HM’s: Encore! Never Have I Ever, High School Musical 2, Fast and Furious 6, Bad Boys as a franchise

Disappointments: The entire Twilight Saga, Triple X as a franchise, High School Musical 1+2

Hoping for a vaccine in April, but like, lol.

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my-job-is-to-fangirl · 5 years ago

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This is such a random post, but I watch a lot of youtube and it’s the best distraction/ way to pass time. I watch a variety of channels, and I’m subscribed to over 80 channels, and have about 1900 videos in my watch later list soooo :))) enjoy. No particular order but I’m doing 20 channels because 2020 (which needs to end right now). I’m going to link my favourite video of theirs as well, so you’ll have something to start with if you’re interested.

fashion and lifestyle

1. bestdressed

I already talked about her in my light content to consume while in quarantine post, but I’ll do it again. She is hands down my favourite youtuber. I had this phase where I was watching clothing hauls nonstop for some reason, and then I found Ashley’s channel. I couldn’t stop watching her videos. They’re fun, they have actual content, and she talks about stuff like how youtubers make money, and she gives the whole truth. Her fashion videos are so inspiring, I love her style, I love how she pairs things that you normally wouldn’t and her favourite word (say it with me, kids) juxtaposition of pieces that would ‘normally’ not be paired together.

She puts in so much effort into filming her videos, and even more into editing them. She doesn’t just do fashion videos, she does apartment makeovers, real talks, everything, but overall a fashion channel. I’ve seen her channel suddenly blow up and I think she had 500k or 600k subscribers when I started, and now she has 3.1 million :’) I want to raid her wardrobe for her thrifted pieces. Anyway, here’s my video pick(s) for her channel-

how to look cute when you’re out of f*cks

the ultimate guide to closet essentials

2. Yoora Jung

I wait for her videos more than any other channel, she just has the most relatable content because her days comprise of (other than her work, which is a lot) scrolling through instagram, watching youtube, snacking, rolling around in bed and procrastinating- I love her. Also her editing is on another level, all her intros are unique and fun. She can literally sit in a chair and talk about grapes for 40 minutes and I’d still watch. Also when she speaks in Korean, its the cutest thing ever.

I followed Jungkook’s workout routine for a week // getting fit with yoora season 1 ep 1

Waking up at 5 AM for a week in college (she works really hard as you can see. I’d never have the motivation to get up at 5)

3. ohnonina

neeeeeeen < 3 Watching her videos makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Not to mention she gives a virtual hug at the end of every video :’) She does GRWM’s, k-pop, fashion, art, day in the life, studying and bullet journal videos. Everytime she hits a new 100k+ number of subscribers, she does a cooking with nina, those might be my favourite ones because she always does a korean dish. Also not really studying with nina I LOVE THOSE.

study korean with me but i actually study intensely | not really studying with nina 14

i made tteokbokki 떡볶이 (korean spicy rice cakes) | cooking with nina

4. ur mom ashley

She does fashion videos, but other content as well. She does thrift hauls, dressing out of her comfort zone type videos, and a lot of content with her siblings and boyfriend. Honestly, it’s a crackhead time when they’re around, especially her younger brother. She also makes what I eat in a day videos and I genuinely haven’t seen any other vegan person at least try to eat foods other than avocado and kale. She makes some nice recipes and eats good portions like a normal person, I really appreciate that.

what i eat in a week as a college student (vegan!!)

REVAMPING MY WARDROBE for 2020 (Princess Polly Haul)

5. Nava Rose

Firstly, I’d like to point out how much I love listening to her talk, I don’t know what it is but I love it. She has some great DIY videos, it is a DIY/ fashion haul/ hacks channel so ya. She does a lot of revamping/upcycling videos where she transforms men’s oversized clothes and makes them cute. I was very inspired by her and I did some myself! She has an amazing sense of style I wish I had some of her clothes.

50 WAYS TO STYLE DENIM | easy everyday outfit ideas!

6. Nuria Ma

She’s eighteen, lives alone some of the time and is possibly one of the hardest working people I’ve seen, juggling school and youtube. When I started watching her I think she just turned 17 and I was going mad wondering how someone could be so organized and put together at 17. She makes her own food- three meals every day, works out, studies for hours, does youtube, and what not. She’s genuinely amazing, also look how pretty she is.

KOREAN FASHION HAUL | Yesstyle

7. Erna Limdaugh

I found her channel only a few months ago, her videos are so calming and soothing to watch. She does a lot of day in the life type vlogs with her friends, morning/night routines and unboxings. She lives in Seoul that’s how I found her when I was looking for Korea content. Her fashion sense is amazing, and her cat, Yuri, is adorable *_*

A DAY IN MY LIFE – WHAT I EAT IN A DAY Life in Seoul | Erna Limdaugh

8. Jenn Im

I don’t watch her makeup and beauty videos because I don’t know much about makeup, but her vlogs, fashion, and book videos are great. I feel like she’s a wise older sister that I don’t have =p I especially love her cooking videos where she makes Korean dishes that her mom used to make. She has her own clothing line too, she does some promo videos and stuff, they’re cool.

What I Eat in a Day Easy Korean Recipes

9. Michelle Choi 최 혜림 (the seoul search)

She deserves so many more followers. Productive q u e e n. My friend and I are always discussing how the hell she can be so productive. She studies, does freelance design work, does assignments, cooks, does youtube, cleans, what is she?? Her videos make me want to be productive but instead I sit and watch more of them =)

(daily vlog) Finals Season: lots of coffee, cooking, + workspace tour!

food

10. Nino’s Home

Really yummy looking food, the babiest cat in a myriad of sweaters, and the funniest captions ever. No jokes, he’s truly hilarious. He has some really interesting recipes too, I think he takes from all over Asia, there’s a great variety of sweet and savoury.

Fried Milk Melt in Your Mouth

11. Maangchi

I legitimately call her maangchi aunty that’s how much I love her. Look how cute she is!!!!!! She has the happiest videos, they can brighten your mood in no time. Although many of her videos include meat, I still watch them so I can perhaps sub the meat for something else. She has a different headband/ head gear in every video, watch for that! I have tried three of four of her vegetarian recipes and I love them. I’ll link my favourite one, it’s become a staple at my house.

Vegetable Pancake (Yachaejeon: 야채전)

12. Pick Up Limes

Her videos are aesthetic, her recipes are easy, her voice can calm everything. It’s a vegan channel. I’m not vegan, I’m vegetarian so I can use her recipes by substituting whatever I want.

Cozy drinks to warm you up

13. Wil Yeung – Cook with Confidence

Also a vegan channel. I love his simple cooking and his style of narration. He doesn’t overdo it with the voiceover, he just says ‘medium sized pan’, ‘2 cups water’, ‘stir’. I’ve tried his gochujang and chili oil videos, they’re so good. I had to make do with what I had but still really good.

HOW TO MAKE CHILI OIL ***EASY 5 MIN RECIPE*** CHINESE HOT SAUCE

14. Zoe 조에

Her videos are so pretty to watch!! She works at her mom’s cafe so the videos are vlogs of that. They have beautiful desserts and drinks too. There’s always a montage where she shows their canning machine it’s mesmerizing xD

prettiest dessert cafe vlog on earth | Cinematography, Zoe, Blessroll (this was the first video that I watched)

Art

15. AmandaRachLee

Bullet journal videos, daily vlogs, productive days, organizing, doodling videos. I started bullet journaling in July 2018 and I follow her themes even now. I think I might have skipped two or three themes because I didn’t like them but bullet journaling is a huge part of my routine and I don’t know what I did before that. Also it makes me feel better about my stationery addiction when I watch her videos. She’s worse than me so I feel good. I love her stationery hauls.

Korea Stationery Haul! (HUGE Giveaway!)

16. cup of jasmien

The one and only art student I am subscribed to. She is SO talented, her paintings are great, but I appreciate her pen and ink pieces the most. Her videos are usually paint with me’s, a week/day of art school or travel vlogs.

before art school went online haha…

17. milkcloud

milk and cloud are two sisters xD They have painting videos, vlogs, lots of unboxings. Very nice to play in the background while doing something. Also they play k-pop piano covers for their videos.

finding joy in little things / a vlog

Books

18. BookswithEmilyFox

I watched a lot of book youtubers and she is the most honest one out there. If she hates a book she will say h a t e not put it lightly by saying it was okay. I read some of the books she recommended and I actually loved them, so I put her here because I can trust her reviews.

JANUARY BOOK HAUL 2020 + HUGE BOOKOUTLET UNBOXING! || Books with Emily Fox

Random

19. Banana Milk

This is so random but has provided me with several hours (minutes) of entertainment. She makes NCT crack videos they’re brilliant I swear. Please wait for the end of the video for the outro it’s the best part. Linked my favourite video.

Literally just NCT ruining twilight for two minutes

20. Buzzfeed Unsolved Network

Do I even have to talk about them?? I can binge their videos for hours, especially the supernatural ones. They’re freaking scary but I will watch them all. They go to real haunted places with their cool equipment (and holy water). I’ll link two of the ones that creeped me out the most.

Return To The Horrifying Winchester Mansion

3 Horrifying Cases Of Ghosts And Demons

my favourite youtube channels (20) This is such a random post, but I watch a lot of youtube and it's the best distraction/ way to pass time.

#blog #blogger #blogging #love #writing #youtube

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j0sgomez-blog · 6 years ago

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By Michael Lanza

So you didn’t plan far enough in advance to reserve a permit for backpacking this summer in Yosemite, Grand Teton, Glacier, or another popular national park, eh? So, now what? Where will you take a big outdoor adventure this year? Here are five backpacking trips that even slackers still have time to plan and execute this year. Three of them are in top-tier national parks for backpacking, and the other two are multi-day hikes with national park-caliber mountain scenery.

But don’t sit on your hands any longer. Read through this list now and start the gears turning to make one of these trips happen this year. You’ll be glad you did.

I’d love to read what you think of this list of trips; leave a comment at the bottom of this story.

Jeff Wilhelm backpacking the Timberline Trail around Oregon’s Mount Hood.

Circumambulate Mount Hood

If you’re looking to up the ante in terms of challenge while drinking a big glass of scenery just about every step of the way, backpack around Mount Hood. The 41-mile Timberline Trail around the 11,239-foot volcano presents serious creek crossings, fields of wildflowers in mid-summer, waterfalls in abundance, and blow-you-away views of Hood around every bend. The Timberline Trail typically sheds most of its snow cover by late July or early August—when wildflowers are in riot—and its season can last well into September and sometimes into October.

See my story “Full of Surprises: Backpacking Mount Hood’s Timberline Trail.”

Mount Hood’s Timberline Trail is one of “America’s Top 10 Best Backpacking Trips.”

My daughter, Alex, hiking the High Sierra Trail, Sequoia National Park.

Explore the High Sierra in Sequoia National Park

With some of the highest mountains in the contiguous United States and scores of beautiful backcountry lakes—not to mention consistently sunny days in summer—California’s southern High Sierra unequivocally belongs on any list of top backpacking destinations in America. On a six-day, 40-mile loop hike from the Mineral King area of Sequoia National Park, my family hiked through a quiet, backcountry grove of giant Sequoias, and over 10,000-foot and 11,000-foot passes at the foot of 12,000-foot, granite peaks, and camped at two lakes that earned spots on my list of 25 favorite backcountry campsites. I still consider it one of the most photogenic places I’ve ever hiked. And while permit quotas for popular trailheads like the High Sierra Trail get booked months in advance, there are still many summer dates available for starting at Timber Gap.

See my story “Heavy Lifting: Backpacking Sequoia National Park,” about my family’s backpacking trip there and all of my stories about Sequoia National Park and California national parks at The Big Outside.

Hi, I’m Michael Lanza, creator of The Big Outside, which has made several top outdoors blog lists. Click here to sign up for my FREE email newsletter. Join The Big Outside to get full access to all of my blog’s stories. Click here to learn how I can help you plan your next trip. Please follow my adventures on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Youtube.

Mark Fenton backpacking in Titcomb Basin in the Wind River Range.

See the Best of the Wind River Range

Besides the High Sierra, there may be no mountain range in the country with as many lovely alpine lakes and tarns as Wyoming’s Wind River Range—you will lose count of the lakes you hike past. But unlike much of the High Sierra, in the Winds, you just may see fewer people than lakes, and backcountry permits are not an issue. On a roughly 41-mile loop from Elkhart Park, two friends and I spent a night in Titcomb Basin, an alpine valley at over 10,000 feet below a granite wall of 13,000-foot peaks. Our route crossed three 12,000-foot passes, one via an adventurous, off-trail route over 12,240-foot Knapsack Col that led into a mystical hanging valley. Start exploring the Winds and you may never want to stop.

See my stories “Best of the Wind River Range: Backpacking to Titcomb Basin” and “A Walk in the Winds: A One-Day, 27-Mile Traverse of Wyoming’s Wind River Range,” and all of my stories about the Winds at The Big Outside.

Want to read any story linked here? Get full access to ALL stories at The Big Outside, plus a FREE e-guide. Join now!

Jeff Wilhelm on the Deer Creek Trail in the Grand Canyon.

Hike Into the Grand Canyon

I’ve hiked into the Big Ditch enough times—including recently spending four days on the Thunder River-Deer Creek Loop off the North Rim (which you will read about at The Big Outside soon)—to understand two fundamental backpacker truths about it: First, no other place compares to it, period—there’s only one Grand Canyon; and second, every trip there deserves five stars, each so scenic and special that it’s hard to imagine ever getting enough of this place. Of course, many other backpackers share that view, so competition for backcountry permits is stiff, especially for the popular Bright Angel and South and North Kaibab trails. Now is the time to plan a backpacking trip for October, a prime month for hiking in the Grand Canyon. Mark your calendar for June 1 to apply for a permit for October.

Find your next adventure in your Inbox. Sign up for my FREE email newsletter now.

See my story “Backpacking the Grand Canyon’ Thunder River-Deer Creek Loop,” and all of my numerous stories about the Grand Canyon, including my stories about dayhiking rim to rim, a four-day, family backpacking trip from Grandview Point to the South Kaibab Trail, a three-day hike from the New Hance Trailhead to Grandview Point, and backpacking the remote and rugged Royal Arch Loop.

And watch for my upcoming feature story about my most recent backpacking trip in the Grand Canyon, a 74-mile hike from the South Kaibab Trail to the Tanner Trail.

Plan your next great backpacking trip in the Grand Canyon or other parks using my expert e-guides.

A view from the Appalachian Trail in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Backpack in the Great Smokies

On a multi-day hike in the Great Smokies, you can drink heartily from the mug of the Southern Appalachian Mountains experience, going from bracing swims in low-elevation streams that tumble through one cascade after another, to classic views of an ocean of blue ridges. The Great Smokies have 1,600 species of flowering plants, including 100 native tree species, with over 300 species of native vascular plants considered rare. Good news for procrastinators: GSMNP only accepts permit reservations up to 30 days in advance of the first night of your trip. Put one on your calendar for early summer, when streams and waterfalls are full, or in mid-autumn, when fall foliage reaches peak color.

See my feature story “In the Garden of Eden: Backpacking the Great Smoky Mountains,” about my solo, 34-mile backpacking trip through Great Smoky Mountains National Park, hiking a loop on the North Carolina side that took me from lower elevations near Fontana Lake up to a stretch of the Appalachian Trail over 6,643-foot Clingmans Dome and the park’s highest bald, 5,920-foot Andrews Bald. See also all of my stories about the Great Smokies at The Big Outside.

Tell me what you think.

I spent a lot of time writing this story, so if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a share using one of the buttons at right, and leave a comment or question at the bottom of this story. I’d really appreciate it.

See all of my stories about national park trips and family adventures at The Big Outside.

Feeling inspired by this story? Join now for full access to ALL stories and get a free e-guide!

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winter-daffodils · 8 years ago

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{ 2016 : lookback }

If I could sum up my 2016 with five words it’ll probably be: stressful but a lovely adventure. It may not be a good one for the rest of the world with all the unfortunate events here and there, but looking at the bright side, we made it! We’ve survived 2016 and a brand new year has unfolded bringing hopeful tomorrows and brighter beginnings.

School may have taken majority of my time and SLEEP, and it has caused a huge chunk of stress (basically 70% of my stress is from school) but my 2016 journey has been a good one because of school and it wouldn’t be as exciting and eventful if it wasn’t because of it and the people (aka my main bitches) that came with it. My family also played a big role as I venture on this adventure, they have been a great support system and my constant source of strength.

youtube

Let me apologize for the super sabaw vlog. I did my best guys, believe me! Notice that I did three wardrobe changes which means I shot this in three different days, talk about lazy. I hope you enjoyed the vlog, my lovely readers. Tell me what you think about it.

Dear Ate Jelsha, Thank you for allowing me in your COT-Singing family. I had a hard time believing it myself but you have pushed me pass my doubts and you have made my dream come true. Thank you for remaining patient, especially when I can’t hit the notes properly. But beyond all that, what I am most grateful for is the friendship and the sisterhood you have offered me. Sure, you seem intimidating at times but what some people don’t see is the warm Ate Jelsha I grew to love more and more each day. You deserve the kind of love you give us. Someday Ate Jelsha, someday.

Dear Brian, Thank you for the opportunity to bring such wonderful character to life. It was a real honor to portray Mariline. I may not say this often but I admire your works and your passion in creating so many stories that are too good for words. I know I don’t agree with you always and we would bicker all the time but this is because you are a brother to me and this is how I show affection to my brothers, hahaha! You have another masterpiece waiting to come into life, thank you for trusting us once again. I will always root for your success. Keep the fire burning.

To NoBaTeLong, My girls, you are four of the many reasons why I feel so blessed. You are true blessings and I don’t really know how life would be if I don’t have you guys. For the past year we’ve shared so many memories together and I can’t wait to experience and create more happy memories together this 2017. Each memory gets even more precious when the memory is shared with you. I look forward to more lunch dates, fun vlogs, and misadventure with you girls. I am pretty sure 2017 will be a pretty grueling year, especially that we only have one semester left until our Practice Teaching, but no matter what happens I am confident that we’ll see it through because there’s nothing our friendship couldn’t do. 1, 2, 3, boys!

Dear Ma’am Jesser, Thank you for the most exciting classes. You are one of my life pegs and I could give a million reasons as to why you should be everyone’s life peg, too. I would never forget the classes we had. Yes, it sometimes requires me to squeeze the very little juice left in my brain but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It was a real joy learning and discovering so many things with you Ma’am Jesser. I am so happy I was able to have you as my professor for my two major subjects before everything got messy. I consider myself beyond lucky. The gods must be in my favor. I have always loved Mythology (and Literature in general), but because of you Ma’am, I loved it even more! Thank you for the adventures Ma’am Jesser, may it be outside the school or inside the classroom.

To AbeKathDoth, Thank you for the kind of friendship that knows no time and place. We may be miles away from each other but you’ve remained the truest friends to me. I am indebted to you girls after spending most your June and July here at our house to help me prepare. You have been really patient and diligent and I don’t know how to thank you girls. Our house truly misses your presence and the loud laughters we used to share. For now, despite being miles away, let’s all work hard and reach for our dreams together.

To my Cactus children, Truly, you kids have been my vitamins and my source of encouragement. I was having second thoughts about joining at first. I was afraid I might feel out of place around you guys because you know each other quite well and get along just fine, while the only familiar face to me is my mom. But with your kind hearts, you kids have approached me that day and made me feel like I belong. We grew closer and I became fond of you kids that I eventually accepted the role of your mom. You guys are the cutest. You have made our trip to Korea a 100x better.

Dear Ate Jessica, I’ve always wanted an older sister and I’m glad I found it in you. When I first saw you inside our classroom, I felt a little bit intimidated. I was hesitant on approaching you, but thankfully, I did. You must’ve felt really alone back then. You are someone I could always lean on, Ate Jessica, and I am grateful for that. Thank you for cheering me up when I am down and giving me advice when I need one. I really don’t deserve the kind of love you are giving me, but still, thank you Ate Jessica for making me feel really loved. I’ll miss you, Ate Jessica.

To my best gay friend that I love so dearly, I have always told you this one but I will tell it to you once again to remind you and to give you a fresh start as 2017 begins: You deserve the kind of love you give others and you deserve to be happy the way you make others happy. If I could only give you the kind of love that would complete you, I would. If I could only make you happy the way you make us happy, I would. If I could take away the pain, even the slightest of it, I would. Someday, the right person for you will come and everything will make sense -- the pain, the heartbreaks and the tears. But for now, focus on loving yourself first, okay? I will always be here to listen to you.

To the English Meyjers, The journey towards success may be a tough one but seeing you all guys with me made it all worthwhile. Our Sherlock Holmes Production made us closer and I am glad it did. We have successfully worked under so much pressure and stress and I couldn’t be any prouder to be a member of the team. I am confident that the future is bright because we have amazing English teachers in the future.

To my beloved the legendary BSE31, Look at how far we have come, BSE31. Who would’ve thought that the naive freshmen way way back would make such history in the College of Education. Just a little more push and we’ll have our own legacy. However, despite all these recognitions, I want us to be remembered as the section that has become a family. We still have a long way left to go but if there is one thing I am sure of, that is I will always be a proud member of the BSE31, not just because of the awards we’ve received but because we have made the classroom, a home.

To the unbelievable Nomo fam, You guys are the most amazing company anybody could ever ask for. We could be stranded in an island together but I would still have fun because I have you there with me. I have spent the most epic and incredible nights with you, and I wouldn’t mind spending more; and I wouldn’t mind taking care of you guys whenever you get wasted or drunk. You have made 2016 a wild ride. Cheers to 2017, Nomo fam!

To the love of my life, You have made my 2016 an amazing year. You made me look forward to my every days for you made each day brighter. You arrival has brought me to a roller coaster ride. It may have ups and downs but I have no intention of going down the ride as long as you are there with me. You have completely changed my life and you have taught me what is it really to love and to be loved. Let’s welcome 2017 with hopeful hearts and spend more New Years together, shall we? I love you, Hanz. I’ll always will.

Stop procrastinating and never settle for mediocrity.

Always go for whatever makes you happy and content.

Don’t be so hard on your self if you fail.

Seize your 18th year and make it count.

Be more positive and stop overthinking.

Write notes, please.

Be more patient and control your temper.

Be wiser in spending and managing your time.

Save money.

When things become unbearable, take some time off and breathe.

Don’t rush and just enjoy the moment.

Never forget to make people feel that you appreciate them and that you are grateful to have them.

Never forget that God is always in control.

1. Everything and everyone needs time -- time to bloom, time to think, and time to reflect. Everything will fall into place in its own perfect timing, we just need to be patient and believe that everything is going make sense one day.

2. Life doesn’t have to make sense in an instant. Stop being so hard on yourself to become remarkable just because everyone around you is. stop putting yourself down just because everyone’s achievements isn’t good as yours. Take life one step at a time, enjoy the little things and one day, you’ll find yourself in the place you’ve always wanted.

3. Comparing your relationship with other relationship would not bring you and your partner any good. Your relationship is unique, beautiful and golden in its own way.

4. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion but no opinion is entitled to make you feel like shit. Never let the goddamn society’s standards define you and change you because nobody gets a say about how you weigh or your view of life, except yourself.

5. Every day is a brand new chance to be better and to start once again. There’s no point in dwelling on your failures and shortcomings, instead, it’ll be better to just work harder to improve yourself and be better.

I can’t wait to see and experience what 2017 has in store for me. Surely, it won’t be easy but 2016 has proven that every challenge I face, it would be rewarding and fulfilling in the end. There are so many things to be thankful about for this year, and this is because of the Lord’s grand plans for me. I’ve seen its wonders right before my very eyes and this has strengthen my faith even more. I am grateful to the Lord for all the people who stayed (and even the ones who left) and all the experience -- triumphs and failures included. 2016 has been a great year because of it and whatever is in the road ahead of me this 2017, I am sure that the Lord will fill me strength and so much grace that 2017 will be another thrilling and wonderful journey to remember.

#2017 #new year #vlog #resolutions #letters

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floraexplorer · 7 years ago

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The Ten Most Adventurous Travel Challenges I’ve Ever Faced (And One I Haven’t…Yet)

A little announcement: I’m speaking at a festival!

This coming weekend I’ll be heading to the heart of Oxfordshire, England, where hundreds of people will be wandering around Wilderness Festival. And at some point, some of them are hopefully going to gather round a campfire to listen to me talk about travelling.

For a full forty five minutes.

Sunday, 2pm: IT’S ME!

Giving this talk is a pretty big deal for me.

Although running this site has led me to a number of unexpected job titles, I’ve never been able to call myself a ‘speaker’ before. It’s a new road — one I’m both nervous and very excited about.

So what’s the topic I’m attempting to fill forty five minutes of chatter with?

“Up A Creek Without a Paddle: Travel Tales & Fails From a Solo Female Traveller”

At first, I figured I should be planning a talk which made me sound like a hardened traveller — but once I realised I was on a programme alongside ‘real’ adventurous women (like cycling through dense Indian jungle or motorbiking across Iran), I decided it would be better (and probably funnier) to tell some stories about the bizarre travel experiences I’ve had around the world.

More importantly, to address the fact that things can – and often do – go wrong!

Like being forced to walk/hitch rides for 100km when striking fishermen close the border…

But what’s been interesting is that in the process of writing an outline for this talk, I also began to think about all the ways travel has changed me. Travel ‘fails’ don’t necessarily mean something negative, either. As I jotted down various events to talk about, I started noticing a pattern.

The bigger, scarier, more adventurous and more ‘out of my comfort zone’ an experience had been, the more memorable and life-changing it was.

How adventurously do you live your life?

Being ‘adventurous’ can be defined completely differently from one person to the next.

Some of us want to do every physical challenge possible, but are terrified of travelling alone. I used to hate roller coasters with a passion but was supremely smug about my ability to watch any horror movie while my friends screamed and ran out of the room.

We all have strengths and weaknesses. It’s worth recognising the benefits of both.

The other day, a writer I follow on Twitter asked her followers a question.

What’s something you feel good about having done? (Small/big/long past or recent/for someone else/others/yourself).

— Hayley Webster (@bookshaped) July 29, 2017

To be able to compliment ourselves – hell, just to treat ourselves more nicely – is something everyone should feel comfortable with doing. We deserve a bit of love, particularly when we’re going through something which makes us feel vulnerable and small and unsure.

I’m in that kind of place at the moment. I need bolstering; I need energy, and positivity, and I need reminding that I’ve been strong in a multitude of different ways in the past.

So what makes the following stories particularly adventurous?

Well, it’s not just physical or daredevil activities which require bravery. Often it’s the smaller parts of life which really challenge us — mentally and emotionally, as well as physically.

And more than that, each of these stories have helped to shape me. They’re moments I’m extremely proud of, and it’s worth a lot to actively recognise that.

1. Walking the Camino route halfway across Spain

When I decided to walk the Camino, I readily assumed I’d be able to get myself geared up in time. What I didn’t account for was my love of procrastination – something which marred the entire project before it had even started.

For months I told people I was walking the Camino, but I still refused to start training, to book my flight to Spain or to actually research how I’d cope as a pilgrim.

Case in point: my lack of research in blisters

Thankfully when I finally bit the bullet and caught a thirty hour bus from London to Leon (don’t follow my example), my Camino proved better than I could have hoped – but it unnerved me to realise how close I’d come to quitting the whole idea.

Four hundred kilometres later, I’d learned so much about the kindness of strangers and the value of community – and I also discovered my body is a lot stronger than I’d thought.

Enough so that I should have trusted in myself much more from the start.

2. A ‘Polar Plunge’ in sub-zero Arctic seawater

On board an expedition ship in the middle of the Norwegian Arctic, a group of octogenarians and I were asked whether we wanted to jump into the ocean outside. All but four of us said a resounding, “NO”.

Of course, part of the job description as a travel writer is to actually ‘experience’ what the world has to offer – but I was secretly terrified of throwing myself at the mercy of the Arctic Ocean.

What if my heart stopped because of the cold? What if I drowned?

As it turned out, the exhilaration and adrenaline from racing into the icy sea was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. Moreover, I knew I’d achieved something I hadn’t expected to even attempt, let alone enjoy – and it opened up a world of possibilities.

The photos were pretty spectacular, too.

3. Skydiving over the Kenyan coastline

I’d just arrived in Kenya (literally that morning) when a group of the volunteers I’d just met mentioned they were off to skydive at Mombasa beach. I was eighteen and nervous about making new friends with this big group of Aussies, Americans and fellow Brits, all of whom had been volunteering in Kenya for at least a month together.

So I guess you could say I skydived for the first time because I wanted to be accepted. I wanted them to think I was cool.

A blurry photo that still means so much!

While this obviously isn’t the best reason to challenge yourself, it’s nevertheless been something which has always stuck in my mind.

Since that first skydive, every other adventure sport, adrenaline-rushing experience I’ve had has been on my OWN terms – be it paragliding in Ecuador, caving in Bolivia, scuba diving or white water rafting in Australia. Every time I’ve considered the idea of backing out, and every time I’ve decided it’s worth doing.

I even skydived for a second time a few years later.

4. Drinking ayahuasca in the Brazilian jungle

Before taking part in an ayahuasca ceremony, I had no idea what to expect. And to this day, I’m not sure whether the experiences I had could ever be replicated.

What I do know is that the ceremony occurred at the exact right time in my life.

Then again, the actual ayahuasca experience as it was happening was pretty brutal. Vomiting and hallucinations, a complete deconstruction of what it meant to be ‘myself’, and the strangest and most surreal night I’ve ever had.

Ayahuasca is a scary experience, and not one to be taken lightly. In fact, if I’d fully known what was in store I think I might have thought twice about drinking. But because of the positive after-effects it led me to a second spiritual ceremony with San Pedro a few weeks later, and it served to open up my mind to the idea that a positive mental outlook can actually affect your life.

Among other things.

5. Perpetually boarding planes despite my flying phobia

Surprisingly enough, I don’t do well in planes.

It’s a fear that’s only got worse with time: the older I get, the more I worry that turbulence is going to cause my death.

It’s also a very common fear, I know: and because travel is an intrinsic part of my profession, I’ll have to keep swallowing the fear as best I can.

This same attitude goes for a lot of common fears and phobias, which many people won’t outwardly admit to in their daily life. Instead, they’ll catch buses which teeter on the edge of steep cliff drops; wiggle their way through narrow spaces in underground caves without fuss; and feel that same dreaded sense of doom when someone’s dragged past them at airport security.

We can’t avoid our fears arising. What we can do is accept their existence and try to live fully in spite of them.

As a result, every time I get off a flight I inwardly congratulate myself because I know that the more irrational part of my fear hasn’t won out.

6. Spending 18 months becoming fluent in Spanish

When I arrived in South America, I could barely speak a word of Spanish. Six months in, I was still pretty rubbish at the language – but over that year, I slowly realised how big an impact fluency would have on my life.

Not just when travelling, but in general.

I’ve always hoped I could one day be bilingual, but throughout school I didn’t really put the required effort in. Once I understood that total immersion was the way I’d learn best, however, everything changed.

Suddenly I was passionate about the Spanish language, to the extent that I challenged myself not to leave South America until I could say I was fluent in Spanish.

Eighteen months later, I was as close as I possibly could be – and I loved it.

7. Getting naked and blue with three thousand people

I’ve been lucky to not struggle too much with body confidence in my life, but I was still a bit terrified about stripping naked in a park at 3am in Hull city centre and covering myself in blue body paint.

Our perceptions of nakedness – both our own and other people’s – have always fascinated me, so when I saw the call-out for participants in Spencer Tunick’s #SeaOfHull photoshoot, I knew I wanted to be involved.

Yet there’s a mental challenge which comes with voluntarily putting yourself in such a vulnerable situation.

We were lucky. Amongst three thousand naked bodies, not one person was insulting to another, and as far as I know every participant walked away feeling stronger, freer and more confident about themselves.

8. Cutting all my hair off in an Indian bathroom

After a month of travelling in India’s soporific, suffocating heat in 2012, I made a decision to cut off my hair.

This wasn’t taken lightly: my hair had been shoulder-length or longer for the majority of my life, and I wasn’t sure how it was going to behave when suddenly cut to just beneath my ears. But I’d had enough of it – so one night in a homestay, an Australian friend borrowed a pair of scissors from the kitchen and began snipping.

It was absolutely liberating. I felt like I was taking control.

Only later did I realise how much I hated having short hair. It stuck out like a triangle and no amount of styling attempts would make it look acceptable in my eyes.

The funny thing, though? Eventually I just had to deal with it. My perception of myself was infinitely less forgiving than other people’s opinions of me, and because there was nothing I could do to fix my hair in the middle of the Indian mountains, after a while I didn’t care as much.

By the time I got my nose pierced on a whim in Dharamshala, I’d understood that spontaneously changing my appearance was OK. It wasn’t automatically a disaster.

9. Admitting the importance of my mental health

The desire and ability to travel by yourself is clearly admired by a lot of people. What’s problematic about that is feeling like you’re less able to stop as a result.

After years of solo travel and the accompanying loneliness which often goes with it, I made a decision. When I’d finished my London-based masters degree, I didn’t head off into the world alone again. Instead, I stayed in the city I was born in, and addressed the anxiety which had been growing stronger for months.

I admitted to myself that, for once, my mental health was more important than my love of travel.

Recognising my needs for their fundamental importance is something I’m hugely proud of. It’s not easy to do – and it’s also not easy to speak about publicly, when years of social conditioning has made anything mental-health-related seem like a taboo subject.

Happily enough, the more I talk about mental health, the more I feel connected to other people. It seems like expressing your vulnerabilities can often lead to something much more positive.

10. Being publicly vulnerable by writing about myself online

When I think about it, this site is also something which has been hugely adventurous in its own way.

I’ve written about my issues with self-confidence and self-deprecation before, but the more I’ve dwelled on it the more I’ve understood that sometimes you just have to try pulling yourself out of it by any means necessary.

I know a lot of bloggers who actively choose to keep their private life private, and don’t talk about their personal feelings online. I’ve found this isn’t what works for me: in fact, it’s almost the opposite.

To be going through something life-changing and devastating as the imminent loss of another parent has made me all the more in need of support from my virtual community. Sharing that here has alleviated so much stress and made me feel loved and cared for.

Of course, this level of openness doesn’t work for everyone. But I do know that this six year process of writing about myself in a public online space has led me to places I never thought I’d go. Because of my growing confidence in my words, I entered a National Geographic contest I never thought I’d win – except then I did.

A year later, I travelled to the Arctic Circle because of it.

If that’s not an obvious reward for challenging yourself and being adventurous, I don’t know what is.

11. Still to come: speaking about my travels at a festival

Despite chatting away on Instagram Stories on a regular basis, I’m still not that familiar with public speaking – so my talk at Wilderness Festival this weekend is no doubt going to be another challenge.

Luckily, I’m more than eager to rise to it.

I figure that if I held a snake the last time I was at Wilderness, I can probably manage to hold an audience together…?!

If you’re heading to Wilderness Festival then please keep an eye out for me! I’ll be down by the Filson campfire at 2pm on Sunday – but I’m also hopefully filming the talk in case people want to watch it later (YouTube, anyone?!)

The takeaway: adventure can (and does) change your life

These challenging travel situations have taught me a lot. Mainly that I could have backed out of every single one, but I didn’t – and as a result, I know how much I’ve grown.

They’ve also made me more invested in continuing to challenge myself. There are too many adventures left to tackle: from driving the Mongol Rally (I need a licence first), to running a marathon (my recent foray into jogging at the local park is a good start!) to learning Mandarin, Arabic and French.

Ultimately, I’m rather proud that prepping for this talk has reminded me to be excited about the challenges to come. If these past experiences are anything to go by, it’ll make my life that much more interesting as a result.

Do you remind yourself of your adventurous achievements enough? What’s the most adventurous challenge you’ve faced when travelling?

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